As Night Falls

 
On the amusement park, 

The carousel’s magical charm 

Comes to life

With the menagerie of animals

The mythical and  familiar

The ride goes up -it goes down

round and round -- thrills and chills 

Riding on brightly painted ponies  

Reaching  for the brass ring

While lovers steal kisses  

in the gondolas  

Away from prying eyes

 Fin

As night falls
on the amusement park,
the carousel’s magical charm
comes to life
with the menagerie of animals 
the mythical and  familiar
the ride goes up -it goes down
round and round -- thrills and chills
riding on brightly painted ponies 
reaching  for the brass ring,
while lovers steal kisses 
in the gondolas 
away from prying eyes.

Fin

Sunday 160

photos tumblr --- carousels  courtesy of National Carousel Association
Noyce Gallopers Owner Tom Noyce-pigs and horses
Made by Savages of Kings Lynn, Anderson carved animals,1890s
Ecomusee Carousel, brightly colored horses & gondola,  2nd gondola Brooklyn New York

Time is but a Paper Doll

The artist was busy painting

Pretty pouting lips on a paper doll, 

Casting pleasing shadows 

on the wall

 

She is but a paper doll

It won’t talk, or even walk,

Why then do you believe,

She will dance for you?

Time is but a paper doll

Where there is no time at all

With swirling white hands

Chasing their mates

 Visions softly floating

Neath the flickering candle

Catches her silhouette

Pretty pouting lips on a paper doll

Casting pleasing shadows 

on the wall.

Fin 

One Stop Poetry -Wednesday Dreams

 Imperfect Prose - if eden murmurs

The artist was busy painting
Pretty pouting lips on a paper doll,
Casting pleasing shadows on the wall
She is but a paper doll
It won’t talk, or even walk,
Why then do you believe,
She will dance for you?
Time is but a paper doll
Where there is no time at all
With swirling white hands
Chasing their mates
Visions softly floating
Neath the flickering candle
Catches her silhouette
Pretty pouting lips on a paper doll
Casting pleasing shadows on the wall
Fin

 photo credits tumblr

Good Morning My Love!

Lovers don't finally meet somewhere.
They're in each other all along." Rumi

Sometimes in the 

very early hours

When the morning 

light is just perfect

 

The air crisp and cold

I sit within the day 

 

 

And ride the wind 

that stirs the strings
of my soul.

 

fin

Sunday 160 

 

Sometimes in the 
very early hours
when the morning
light is just perfect
the air crisp and cold,

I sit within the day
and ride the wind
that stirs 

the strings of my soul.

Fin

photo credits 1,4& 5 tunblr,  2:  Mt St Helens Willamette River,  3, Mt St Helens, Portland Oregon Skyline

"Style is the Man" Le style est l'homme meme

“Style is the man”
It is true…
A precocious poet
Public and private,
Unique verve and eloquent 
Classicism tempered by
A grasp of modernist
And the vicissitudes of fashion.

With his
Rebellious kinky hair,
Antennae like
Protruding ears
Always in motion
A jittery jaguar
A lyric movement
A dynamic rhythmic body,
Forever pacing - proclaims
"Let’s get our dreams unstuck"
 

With a wave of the muse's magic wand,
Whilst a self conscious artist
The pen draws
Books are written,
Plays are acted.
Through the
“Blood of the Poet”
Films are made.

A friend of Picasso,

A collaborator with Satie,
Stravinsky,
                    Diaghilev,
                                  Coco Chanel

And a group of composers
known as Les Six.

Through turbulent times
Rocked by scandal,
Reoccurring  broken dreams
lost loves
                             Triumph 

and                                                   

Tragedy

In the company of
Ecstasy to opium,
Some jealous,
Call him robber,
Call him liar,
"Yes, but of course,
                They are right
                                     For the wrong reasons,

Ces, cons-la’!"

There is this void
in which we send
our poems,
our art,
our reviews
“I’d take the fire”,
said
The
French
 poet,
writer,
 artist,
 and
 film maker
life is theater
theater is life.
Jean Maurice Eugene Clement Cocteau!

July 05, 1889- October 11, 1963

fin d'une époque

Jean Cocteau.com

The intriguing intersection of lives: The artist Jean Cocteau died of a heart attack at age 74 at his chateau in Milly-la-Foret, France after hearing the news of the death of another friend, the singer Edith Piaf.  Cocteau, chivalrous at the last, obeyed the rule of ladies first. "Ah, la Piaf est morte," he said on the morning of October 11 1963. "Je peux mourir aussi." [Ah, Piaf's dead. I can die too."] And then he promptly died of a heart attack. Or so legend has it.

Edith Piaf and Jean Cocteau , 1938

The quotes were from Jean Cocteau.  A literature monthly posed the question to several writers:  If your house was burning down and you could take away one thing,what would it be?"  Replied Cocteau, "I'd take the fire."  and I believe as others that he did.

photo credits: scanned images: 1st image by Man Ray 1926, Cocteau drew his hand holding his own image.
 2nd image by Paul Thevenaz of Jean Cocteau, 1917. 3rd image by Jean Hugo of Jean Cocteau and his muse. 4th image Poster from film "Blood of the Poet'.
5th image, a letter from Picasso to Cocteau-with a penned cartoon of Olga Picasso, Cocteau, and the Cubist Master.
6th image Coco Chanel , she was closely involved with Jean Cocteau for over forty years. Coco designed her first theater costumes for Jean, provided him with places to live, supported his attempts to give up opium and helped bury his deceased lovers.
7th image via the Book Opium and the drawing by Cocteau  to depict the agonies of addiction.
8th image Cocteau smoking opium. , 1938,.
9th image The hard core surrealist who were Cocteau's implacable tormentors throughout the 1920's left to right, Tristan Tzara, Andre' Breton, Salvador Dali, Max Ernst, & Man Ray. rear: Paul Eluard, Jean Hans Arp., Yves Tanguy, and Rene' Crevel.
10th image of Jean Cocteau in his last years,  and last11th  image Edith Piaf and Jean Cocteau by Serge Lido , 1938.

poem without  images,

Le style est l'homme meme

“Style is the man”
It is true…
A precocious poet
Public and private,
Unique verve and eloquent
Classicism tempered by
A grasp of modernist
And the vicissitudes of fashion
With his
Rebellious kinky hair,
Antennae like
Protruding ears
Always in motion
A jittery jaguar
A lyric movement
A dynamic rhythmic body,
Forever pacing - proclaims
"Let’s get our dreams unstuck"
With a wave of the muse's magic wand,
Whilst a self conscious artist
The pen draws
Books are written,
Plays are acted.
Through the
“Blood of the Poet”
Films are made.
A friend of Picasso,
A collaborator with Satie,
Stravinsky, Diaghilev
Coco Chanel
And a group of composers
known as Les Six.

Through turbulent times
Rocked by scandal,
Reoccurring broken dreams
lost loves
In the company of
Ecstasy to opium,
Some jealous,
Call him robber,
Call him liar,
Yes, but of course,
They are right
For the wrong reasons,
Ces, cons-la’!

There is this void
in which we send
our poems,
our art,
our reviews
“I’d take the fire”,
said
The
French
 poet,
writer,
 artist,
 and
 film maker
life is theater
theater is life
Jean Maurice Eugene Clement Cocteau!

fin d'une époque

Joie de Vivre "La vie est belle,. . .

". . .voila le quadrille,"

 'Life is beautiful, here comes the cancan." 
Toulouse-Lautrec

 Le Moulin Rouge, Le Moulin Rouge
On opening night, October 6, 1889
Where all Paree’ long to be.

Under the windmill red light sails
As they begin to turn 
Le Moulin Rouge Le Moulin Rouge.

 Skirts flying, legs kicking,
Offenbach music playing
Where all Paree’ long to be. 
 
Cancan girls gorgeous and tall
Les chahuteuses-  Louise, Jane, Nicole & Nina
Le Moulin Rouge, Le Moulin Rouge.

 A happy world of boisterous rhythm,
patrons singing:"ooh-la-la, ooh-la-la',ooh-la-la"
Where all Paree’ long to be.

Oui, Louise, la Goulue will go down in history
As the undisputed French cancan queen
Le Moulin Rouge, Le Moulin Rouge
Where all Paree’ long to be.

  
Fin

Joie de Vivre

Le Moulin Rouge, Le Moulin Rouge
On opening night, October 6, 1889
Where all Paree’ long to be

Under the windmill red light sails
As they begin to turn 
Le Moulin Rouge Le Moulin Rouge

Skirts flying, legs kicking,
Offenbach music playing
Where all Paree’ long to be.

Cancan girls gorgeous and tall
Les chahuteuses-  Louise, Jane, Nicole & Nina
Le Moulin Rouge, Le Moulin Rouge

A happy world of boisterous rhythm, patrons singing
"ooh-la-la, ooh-la-la', ooh-la-la, oooh-la-la,
Where all Paree’ long to be

Oui, Louise, la Goulue will go down in history
As the undisputed French cancan queen
Le Moulin Rouge, Le Moulin Rouge
Where all Paree’ long to be.
by joanny
a villanelle style poem

Fin

photo credits: via tumblr Diorcancan, courtesy of toulouseLautrecFd.Moulin Rouge cancandancers, Moulin Rouge Juliet Prowse,1959, showgirl

Before My Time - But in My Blood -

 I woke up one mornin’ and heard this tapping    

rhythmic sound to a crazy beat.

My momma was watching this television show

Had-da  HADDA  Had-da  HADDA ho!

Ms  Hadda Brooks show

She instinctively found pleasure

at the tumultuous stepping
Now a dancer obsessed with the acoustic beat

Momma's body was
Moving and grooving                     
Swinging and swaying         
Stomping with lightening
Fast flying feet

A dancer dancing to different times, 
with an imaginary partner
that had long ago been agreed upon
between Composer, choreographer

the dancer is transfixed 

 by the metronome beat. 

Every generation has their songs,
mine is rock and roll,
till I heard the Rhythm and Blues
Before my time – but in my blood
That Boogie Woogie eight in a bar beat.
Oh Lord, I got the Boogie Woogie Rhythm & Blues  

Thrilled by the heart pounding stepping
Made me forget about
Saturday night live 

clubbing with Coldplay
and do the jukebox 78
Jitter-bug shuffle.

I take leave of the thirties
type jive step  

and
dance without a partner
stepping crazy patterns
with 

my hipster dancing feet. 

For it is the one sound
that is fusion
between the races, 
and across generations

Before my time – but in my blood
That Boogie Woogie - eight in a bar beat.
Oh Lord, I got the Boogie Woogie
Rhythm & Blues  

 photo via magpie tales by Willow

Fin

for

Magpie Tales # 48 hosted by Willow

and

  One Stop Poetry

Before my time, but in my blood,
That Boogie Woogie eight in a bar beat.

I got up one mornin’ and heard this tapping   
rhythmic sound to a crazy beat.
My momma was watching this television show
Had-da  HADDA  Had-da  HADDA ho
Ms Hadda Brookes Show!

She instinctively found pleasure
at the tumultuous stepping
Now a dancer obsessed 
with the acoustic beat 
Momma's body was
Moving and grooving                    
Swinging and swaying        
Stomping with lightening
Fast flying feet.
                    
A dancer dancing to different times,
with an imaginary partner
that had long ago been agreed upon
between Composer, choreographer 
the dancer is transfixed
by the metronome beat.

Every generation has their songs,
mine is rock and roll,
till I heard the Rhythm and Blues
Before my time – but in my blood
That Boogie Woogie eight in a bar beat.
Oh Lord, I got the Boogie Woogie Rhythm & Blues

Thrilled by the heart pounding stepping
Made me forget about
Saturday night live
clubbing with Coldplay
and do the jukebox 78
Jitter bug shuffle.

I take leave of the thirties
type jive step  
and
dance without a partner
stepping crazy patterns
with my hipster 
dancing feet. 

For it is the one sound
that is fusion
between the races,
and across generations.

Before my time – but in my blood
That Boogie Woogie eight in a bar beat.
Oh Lord, I got the Boogie Woogie
Rhythm & Blues

Fin

 photo credits: via  tumblr images 3 & 7-- #2 & 8 Hadda Brooks http://www.virginrecords.com/hadda/wikipedia commons  5 & 6 google
 
Postscript 
Born Hadda Hopgood on October 2, 1916, in Los Angeles, CA; died on November 21, 2002, Los Angeles, CA; married Earl "Shug" Morrison, 1941 (died 1942).
Education: Attended Northwestern University, Chicago, IL; attended Chapman College, CA.

Career

Singer and pianist, 1945-71, 1987-2002; television show host, 1951-1960s; actress, 1947-2000.

Life's Work

During the post-World War II years, Hadda Brooks burst on the scene as the "Queen of the Boogie," releasing hot piano numbers that burned up jukeboxes across the country. Soon she picked up a microphone and let loose her smoky bedroom voice on chart-topping ballads that had couples swooning on dance floors nationwide. She sang for Humphrey Bogart, the Queen of England, and the Pope. Her talents landed her on both the big and small screens and sent her soaring around the world on tour. She was hot, but by 1971 she'd had enough and retired into semi-obscurity. However, someone remembered her soul-infused singing and by the 1990s she had reemerged from retirement to enjoy another round of celebrity. She became a darling of the club circuit, seducing packed audiences with her piano virtuosity and vocal passion. At the age of 79, she signed with Virgin records and released two albums. She appeared opposite Jack Nicholson on the big screen and counted some of Hollywood's hottest talents among her close friends. Hers was a talent that transcended generations. As her official website noted, "She continued to delight her fans up until her death, at age 86, with the same impassioned brassiness as she did in her recordings and performances from the 1940s to the 2000s.... From Analog to Digital.... From 78 Records to MP3's."

Read more: http://www.answers.com/topic/hadda-brooks#ixzz1AjAUzdL1