Monday and I’m back at The Red Lion, Isleworth for my Jazz
Club, although distracted.
This is Henry Lowther on trumpet – using a ‘mute’ to stifle
the sound and I do like a trumpet played that way.
Henry also played ‘T.L.’, a tribute to a musician which, with
its strong and haunting melody, I love. I've got that– on one of his CDs I won in the
club raffle once.
Two musicians I hadn’t heard before were Peter Hurt on sax
and Robin Aspland on keys. I certainly know Dave Green on Bass and Trevor
Tomkins on drums.
I must admit I was distracted – I was talking to Sue (one of
my Monday jazzfriends) about Haiku – a very precise and ritualised form of Japanese
poetry, which she happens to be rather good at.
The rules say a Haiku can only have 17 syllables and those
have to be divided into lines consisting of 5, 7 and 5 syllables. That’s picky.
Perhaps the most famous (although it has one too many syllables)
is Ian Fleming's;
You only live twice
Once in your dreams and once when
you look death in the face.
I’m not a fan of Fleming but I do like that.
We decided that in the martial art of Haiku she has probably got
a blue or a brown belt; proficient but not yet at the Black belt stage where
she can kill just by carelessly mishandling a stanza. I only have a white belt myself,
with a couple of those yellow stripes. Ah well.
Of course we had a go – exchanging poems written on old
envelopes.
Here is Sue’s;
Trevor wields those sticks
Like a thing possessed,
like a professor professed.
Which is rather good – Trevor Tomkins teaches music at the
Guildhall School of Music.
Here’s my effort;
The Trumpet is mute
But the saxophone is loud
In my Jazz heaven.
It’s springtime and in parks all over Japan, people are
assembling to watch the Cherry Blossoms, pure and white. The Japanese may seem
to chase perfection….but they are searching for that blemish on the perfect face.
The beautiful blossom is not enough; they are waiting for
that special, still moment when the first few bleached white petals fall, driven by
the very slightest of breezes to ripple down on a diagonal from the branch.
Just like in Haiku, the poem is not enough.
Neil Harris
(a don’t stop till you drop production)
Home:
helpmesortoutstpeters.blogspot.com
Contact:
neilwithpromisestokeep@gmail.com
