Home Planet News

a journal of literature & art

The Literary Review

Issue 10           Page 1

DOES IT MATTER?

aaaaaa
does it matter if the song
 playing in my head is “All Blues”?


what if you’ve never heard that song
never even heard of it
or if you did you have confused its title with “So What”?


is it important to know both songs
appear on Kind of Blue, a 1959 release
recorded by Miles Davis and the sextet
including John Coltrane, Cannonball Adderley, and Bill Evans?


you can’t hear the song playing in my head
not by reading this poem that’s for sure
so it happens the song I hear is jazz
does that matter?


jazz, a type of music, classification
what do you call this type of poetry,
why is that important?

© Jadina Lilien: The White Dress

THE BARKING DOG

dogs bark

most of ‘em anyway

for some it’s a strength,

Jimmy named his bar after a dog like that

The Barking Dog

 

didn’t last long

and shorter every year

The Barking Dog, on the corner of an alley

and a busy one-way street

in a neighborhood people run away to

 

narrow brick building

first floor, next to a second-hand store

a coffee shop across the busy one-way street

where I sit behind a window

thinking these thoughts

transcribing them into a notebook,

describing Jimmy as a talented entrepreneur

a guy who made his dream come true

 

the bar had a stage, at the far end from the door

entertainment Tuesday nights and weekends,

some nights when the crowd was thin

he’d produce a guitar and join in

 

I’m not the one who found him but

I had been in earlier that very day

they say he looked like he was smiling,

the place was everything for Jim

his whole life, The Barking Dog

APPRECIATION

I don’t stand up for poetry
I don’t leap to my feet
after a live poetry feature,
slapping my palms together
in wild applause then raising
my hands at the roof and shouting
I don’t wolf-whistle but if I did
I would not wolf-whistle for poetry
I might clap silently if the poetry
be virtual on Zoom, those clapping
hands visible in my video box
even if I didn’t love the poems
when I do, when I really do
love the poems I might just sit
grinning like an idiot
or moon, a lovestruck fool
knocked out by another one-two
combination of precise sound
and deep truth
right in the kisser!
I would never pull a ring off any finger,
rush the stage and place the ring up there
although I might wait quite a while
at a back door, hoping the poet will appear

Chuck Joy

TOO SOON

a strike lights the match

illuminating the darkness

 

a child can discern dim shapes

its elders come to treasure

every detail, in the trembling

already-fading glow too soon

extinguished

FIVE TAKES    (after Joe Roarty)

cockpit, passenger jet

clouds under us,

work crews

where the wings will be,

we’re building this jet

while flying inside it

 

it can happen

it can happen

it can happen

it can happen

it can happen

 

a man meets his mother

downtown for coffee

two cups, his black

the poem is in the coffee

 

television weatherperson

projects lines onto the screen:

LAKE EFFECT BLIZZARD

BIG SNOW TONIGHT TOMORROW

MAKE PEACE WITH YOUR GOD

 

six months later, a large yard

a tall boy, hovering entranced

over a valley in the grass,

placing little men precisely so,

red men on the far side of the valley

blue men approaching in a line

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