A La Boom Boom (knot a poem)

When the doves sing in the willow trees

Or when they croon with

One

Another

As each day

Becomes dusk

Do you think they tweet about love?

I have my doubts…yet

Their sounds are sweet to the ear

And Lord knows you don’t have to try

To hear

A

God damn thing

That is whispered, murmured or mumbled

In your zip code

See if you can hear this…

My love for you is not a song

That for a spell

Is

Sweet,

Then in a moment,

Gone

My love does not

Spill all over you

Like a vanity fair

With compliments,

Promises and

Flower petals.

I will not write

stanza after stanza

About your eyeballs

Or the sound of your voice

I won’t become fanatical with the length of your legs

Nor will I stir up hysteria with lines

About the contour of your hips,

The delicate breath,

The end of winter

Or the last time we danced.

I will not place upon the page

That which has been said

By all the other

Monkeys

Concerning love and its many traps

I will only say this,

I see your spirit

And

It is a flawless

Diamond

The magic between you and I

Is that our spirits dwell together

And they have known one another

Forever…

D

On the deep grammar of the White House Correspondents Association Dinner 

Friends, White House Correspondents, countrymen lend me your ear…pass me a beer and a small plate of fear. The rotten part of me loves the hypocrisy of folks running around the District of Columbia with “Press” badges on. If it wasn’t for all the social lubricants in the rooms and after parties the entire experience may as well be Chaplin flick with ragtime jazz playing in the background. The White House “Elite” rubbing elbows in a silent movie where everyone is smiling and not one soul dares to flick the “mute buttons” off their collective lapels as the whole show would go from Barnum and Bailey to Bobby and Whitney (which in my humble opinion is/was the only real reality show).

It is very difficult to behave as a journalist at the White House Correspondents Association Dinner when your mouth has been sewn shut, your arms have been chopped off and you need an IV in your neck to get anything into your body that resembles a “spirit”.
D.A. Medina

Smokey Robinson at Green Hall article

Smokey Robinson stirs up a Quiet Storm at Green Music Hall

75 year old pioneer of Motown is still the ‘Genius of Love’

“No one can sing, quite like Smokey, Smokey Robinson” penned by the pop-funk band “The Tom-Tom Club” for their 1981 hit ‘Genius of Love’ remains a valid ode to the Hall of Fame inductee.

On September 4, 2015, William ‘Smokey’ Robinson performed before a sold out crowd at the newly constructed Green Music Center on the campus of Sonoma State University in Petaluma, California.

The founding father of the “Detroit Sound” stepped on stage garbed in a green metallic suit kicked off the sold out show with the 1961 hit “Tears of a Clown”.

Robinson, wearing that solid gold grin, crooned his way through the opening tune written by Stevie Wonder and made famous by Smokey and his Miracles.

Singers of Robinson’s popularity are in a rare group of entertainers; a majority of their jobs on stage are accomplished by the audience. The sold out crowd of 4,261, composed primarily of those in the Woodstock demographic, were singing every lyric in motley harmony.

Smokey and his band upped the tempo with another hit “Going to a Go-Go”; the baby boomers joined in the fun dancing all over the grassy dancefloor, “The white man’s overbite” replacing “The Monkey” and “The Mashed Potato” respectively.

Robinson slowed things down with yet another Motown chart topper “Ooh baby baby” which he delivered in a tempo that resembled a Sony Walkman low on AA batteries.

Fellow Motown label mate Martha Reeves told Rolling Stone Magazine in their 100 greatest singers of all time issue, “With his tone and delivery, you could easily fall in love with Smokey”

Some of the female spectators seemed like they would have given Reeves statement an “Amen” as they hooted like a flock of drunken owls.

The only “Vegas” moment in the 95 minute performance came when Smokey’s background dancers pulled out umbrellas under the stars of a muggy summer night, put on raincoats whilst Robinson sang “Quiet Storm” as the dancers wiggled all over the stage. Wisconsin has never witnessed more cheese production.

Besides the silly Las Vegas moment, the performance was chocked with outstanding singing and phrasing from the most inimitable voice in pop music.

34 years after the Tom-Tom Club hit, Smokey Robinson proved in he is in fact ‘The Genius of Love”.

 

D.A. Medina