Poetry Zine, Richmond, VA
edgy, gutsy, turgid writing for the naughty aughties
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JIMMY WARNER DESIGN,
I cleaned, burnished and mounted
my first reed when I was young,
a new world on Christmas morn
woodwinds and saxes all brightly
hung, send off to a realm too deep
and scary for youth to comprehend.
Commonsense ought to tell you not
to go, but I didn't have any. Music
makes its own bold logic, a stir of
emotion, physically beyond thought.
Why impose reason on what flows
from depths of a soul's need for soul.
Discipline leads you into self torture
and all the ways there are to do that,
starting with smoke, drink and dress
rehearsal for hip self-loathing, to the
desperate search for membership
in the universal night club of despair.
I took my first steps on Christmas
walking into woodwind revelation
humming to the vibe of every heart
that wanted more than the honey
of every hollow and true as art, the
ebb and flow of muddy water blue.
They tried to stop me when I was
not the cute clarinetist anymore,
when the uniform changed from
brass band to rocker, parking my
axe beneath the first bed that I was
invited to, no return from nirvana.
I'm a happy sax in Christmas wood
still lost but loving the new haunts
but like any wood I branched out, art,
poetry, photos on the web, whatever
comes over me, finding my way to the
deepest pleasures a soul could want.
Jimmy Warner Design, 2011
6 E Broad St.
1 thru 26
Kyoti's Rocky Mountain Reader
See photos of
2000 - 2008