Taking the train to the Marsden Jazz Festival

Take The M-Train

With rhythm rippling over the River Cole,

Venues across the village

will hum and chime to sounds within.

So, listen. No, listen. Lis-un.

Drums beating in the air, crash, click, snare, snare,

Trumpets screaming passion, awake, aware.

Trombonist mouthing notes, sharing belly fire

like moonshine, intoxication.  

Vibraphone taps in the Riverhead,

Guitars dangling Django, strumming ipp-ipp-ipp.

Vocalists belt out standards from the Bandstand,

Music humanized through harmonization.

In the Mechanics Hall, newbies and die-hards travel,

Soundscapes landscaping thoughts.

Mimicking the valley, stumbling up, tumble down,

Melody and traveller as one.

Then a hush, just enough for a fleeting bleat.

What happened?

Those drums skipped four-six to five-eight,

That horn blew hair straight,

Their keys switched key spectacularly.

Afterwards, appreciative applause a-plenty.

Notes: This was my submission for the Poster Poems organised by Marsden the Poetry Village during the Marsden Jazz Festival (launch event). The twenty five Poster Poems will be at locations across the village, allowing visitors to wander in words in music during the festival (and for a few weeks afterwards).

My poem wasn't selected, though next year...