Posts tagged ‘trumpet’

November 3, 2014

The plague

by jhon baker

I’ve been down with a plague of sorts – Bronchitis and the flu, fun stuff.

The death of my brother and a continued concentration on music – the poetry has suffered greatly.

Now I’ve been reminded that I haven’t posted in a while and I am better for the reminder as I need this reminder to live on my doorstep and ring the bell occasionally. Perhaps something new will happen that isn’t heart wrenching or energy draining. Perhaps I shall eat all the leftover Halloween candy and find this lost energy and slip into the manic side of my personality defects. In the meantime I’ve lubricated my old trumpet to have as a backup for a show I’m suppose to be playing the next two weekends should my Yamaha horn fail me or fall on the steps I am to climb. I’ve already missed opening weekend which made the director scramble for a last minute replacement that played air trumpet to a midi – file recording of my part. I’m sure live it would sound better or worse – I haven’t practiced it with the accompaniment – only solo and am sure that I’ve jazzed it up beyond what is called for. But how badly can one screw up – “Singing in the Rain” – surely not as bad as one can screw up something with more than six notes. I suppose there is an F# in there but it is not being played for this particular application of rain singing.

 

in a moment we become only photographs

visions in fading memories

 

 

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September 24, 2014

There is generally nothing interesting on Facebook

by jhon baker

I’ve spent the last several minutes or half hour scrolling on FB to no avail. The most interesting thing is my cup of coffee and this cigarette that I should not be smoking. I am over medicated but still crazy and dedicated. Several of my guitars need the attention of a luthier and I am out of ideas.

(What I initially wrote here is too personal for a personal public blog.)

I have no new poems to offer. Haven’t written one in about six months but I have not been idle. Or I have been idle, whiling my time away on trumpet and guitar. There is only one discipline I can concentrate on at a time. Fine Art, Music or poetry – I don’t know why I cannot intermingle them but, alas, I cannot. I feel as though I can no longer call myself “poet” as I no longer call myself a painter – these things require the action of the brush or pen (or IBM selectric III as it tends to be) and I am Hors de Combat.

I think that’s right.

In a general state of needing new shoes.

and another cigarette. I’ve quit it three times this year and am always drug back down by weakness of one moment and then the roller coaster of addiction. I can’t stand the way it smells or tastes and this time I find myself brushing my teeth several times a day just to get rid of the mouth feel. The next time may be it. I like myself better when I don’t smoke and I like that I don’t get headaches as often either.

A shout out for Leonard Cohen’s new album “Popular Problems” – he kills it.

I’ve started on the e cigarettes – I like them but for the weight that I am not used to holding in between my fingers. I don’t count this as quitting or staying quit. but yesterday I did the dishes and gathered the garbage making my son clean out the cat boxes and take the can to the curb with the help of my wife of many fine years. Last night I contemplated (while not being able to sleep, again) going down to my writing room and banging out a letter or a poem if one would present itself but I reclined on the couch with a cat that hates me and thought my way through the map of a fretboard. And right now I am waiting for a water company to come and tell me whats wrong with my renters house water system. I’ve a feeling that this is going to cost a lot.

My son tells me the best way to rid myself of writers block (which I don’t think I have) is to go to the coffee shop and people listen and watch. This is not something I would opt to do. Not that I am unwilling to look like a wanna be writer with his laptop open typing away – that part doesn’t bother me. It’s the sitting there, spending money on coffee when it is already paid for and cheaper at home. It is the people part really. I don’t like them much. Or it isn’t that I don’t like people but just like it better when they’re not around.

He says it is the noise that does it. To not sit in a quietude. But I don’t – I write to Jazz and the classical station. I go into my mental spaces and try out combinations of words until it hits. then I go.

that is my process.

And, normally, I don’t like capitals when I can avoid them.

six hundred and eleven words .

right then anyway.

January 2, 2014

January Second

by jhon baker

I miss being a regular smoker but the cost is simply too high – in dollars and lungs.

I didn’t post yesterday – the first first I’ve missed in a few years.

I had nothing to add to last years first – reference that if you like.

In trying to put together a coherent collection of poems for a possible book I’ve found it harder than anticipated.

In polishing the language of a non-native speaker in book form I’ve found that harder than anticipated as well.

I should be busy but I am not.

Playing trumpet takes little time per day but a lot of energy.

Constant and chronic pain takes the most energy.

as does fighting the mental crash I see coming.

The coffee is cooling too quickly and I find myself refilling more often for heat.

I have flowers dying on the kitchen table – in yellow hues turning brown – in whites turning yellow.

 

 

December 31, 2013

New Years Eve

by jhon baker

I do not make resolutions specifically for this date – I make them when I need to have made them. I made my last new years resolution many years ago stating that I would never again make another new years resolution and so far I haven’t. In the past several months I’ve made a few decisions that I am carrying through with into the new year but this is not the same thing. I’ve taken up playing the trumpet and am sticking with it with lessons and everything and I’ve quit smoking to be a better trumpet player (more lung capacity; better breath).

I like to beat dead horses.

There are many things I don’t need – a specified day to start something new is one of those things I don’t need.

But onto another subject.

I haven’t written in months and last night wrote a few lines of poetry – for my wife, always for my wife…

 

I love you

and that may be all

shared coffee over old television shows

and newer series watched in minute marathons

 

It needs more and I will write more for it but for now it is there waiting and I take the medications carefully every night and every morning. I build catapults with my son and watch him build with Legos.

and I sing the song of my people.

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