painting by Dusty Jonakin.
Black and Blues
“I never had the blues--no, the blues
always had me.”--Brownie McGhee.
You know they say
that a black snake moans
when it hears a mess
of thumping, banging blues.
Purists, piously munching pieces
of pigeon pot pie, would argue
that a snake can only hiss--
but I would be remiss
not to strongly disagree,
for when that silver slide bar zings
along those six cat gut strings,
I tell you
that old black snake moans,
like a gambler shaking his bones,
like ice cream without its cones,
like a scream the bitch actually owns,
like punks without their phones,
like a blade a thug will hone--
it just coils there all alone,
bobs its head back
and damned sure moans;
joined by a hound dog howling,
and a tomcat screeching,
and a church mouse praying,
and a harnessed horse haranguing!
Hell’s fire,
you know it’s true--
banging blues always
does that to you.
Glenn Buttkus
Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub
12 comments:
I love the music in this and I could hear the guitar in this... love the thought of a snake doing so much more than a hiss. This must have been fun to write.
Hell's fire, I do know it's true. I love how you just grab me and take me into the music. The pious munching pigeon pie who just don't get it. It feels like you wrote this with so much soul!
This is wonderfully musical!
I'm convinced it does with this line: "damned sure moans"
The superfluous effects of music can make any do the unexpected and unprecedented.. That Blake snake most probably moans.
I love that ripcord-tight last stanza, especially!
This is genius, Glenn, and I feel just like that black snake - moaning with pleasure.
It has got to be pretty good banging blues to make a black snake moan!!
You know I just love this Glenn! ha - and the black cats moan to the blues and perhaps some moves ;)
This is down and dirty, demands late night whiskey and a side order of rhythm.
This one oozes the blues, Glenn! While I was reading it, all I could hear in my head was Ry Cooder. You've created a medley of onomatopoeia and alliteration. I love:
'...when that silver slide bar zings
along those six cat gut strings'
and there's a touch of Bob Dylan in:
'that old black snake moans,
like a gambler shaking his bones,
like ice cream without its cones,
like a scream the bitch actually owns,
like punks without their phones...'
“Banging blues always does that to you.” 😊
Love the jazzy blues sounds evoked here - and the images. This reminds me of my favorite poem of all time by Carl Sandburg Jazz Man ... the trombone is in it and a wonderful line “sling your knuckles...”. Do google it if you’ve not read it. Your poem really evokes his feel😊🎼🎷
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