Mingus, Mingus, Mingus
Mingus howling, his bass rumbling in their faces,
Yeah! Yeah, oh yeah! The insistent wailing, barking growl.
Their chains beaten loose by the savage blues, racing.
The piano Christmas made to make Charlie’s pulsing praises
Screamed of saints, sins, and women—making preachers scowl.
And Mingus howling, his bass rumbling in their faces.
The food frying at noon, the sun shining happy on their faces—
They pray Gabriel play his weathered brassy horn to howl,
Their chains beaten loose by the savage blues, racing.
Don’t play in the threadbare winter without a partner for dancing,
This music is company, this music a night sentinel while cats yowl.
Charles Mingus is howling, his bass rumbling in their faces.
They strike up his music to keep watch over their embraces,
Hopping a saxophone plays ahhhhh, a bright golden vowel,
Their chains beaten loose by the savage blues, racing.
The dancers tear away, a flurry of silk, the black chantilly
Deep in the memories of night and saxophone growl,
And Charles Mingus howling, his bass rumbling in their faces,
Their chains beaten loose by the savage blues, racing.
17 thoughts on "Mingus, Mingus, Mingus"
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A villanelle and it’s an enchanting one! Hats off to you. I have only written one villanelle in my life and I found it pretty difficult (but also satisfying.) Interesting to see how using a tight form such as this actually makes your wild imagination more accessible and understandable. This is a good poem. Standing ovation!
this one’s been in the woodshed for nearly two years. the villanelle is a beast. thank you kindly for your comments. 🖤🖤🖤😎
Music poems .. always get my attention … jazz poems? even more so. Mingus? I was there with you.
“Yeah! Yeah, oh yeah!”
Kevin
winner winner chicken dinner if you guess the album brother! 🖤
So nicely done – the music of the poem drives us forward. Usually villanelles seem forced to me but this one is not. I recognize it first as a poem, second as music and eventually realize the pattern. Fantastic.
Here is my favorite part
making preachers scowl.
And Mingus howling,
I prefer the villanelle to every received form I’ve tried. Sestinas are like making friends with a six footed blue footed booby who changes his shoes whilst reminding you what he wore in the stanza before. Sonnets done to Shakespeare’s form? ACK OOP!
Thank you for your kind comment A. 🖤🖤🖤🖤
This poem is jazz. I enjoyed it.
Mingus is the man, my favorite bandleader next to Miles. I am cooking an idea up for David Bowie. 🖤🖤🖤
Terrific. Who knew that jazz, the freest musical form, and the villanelle, one of the most restrictive poetic forms, could have so much consonance? Answer: Manny Grimaldi!
Thank you. You’re giving me ideas about what to do next! 🖤
I agree with Kevin. I love that you took the freeness of jazz (and who doesn’t love Mingus?) and harnessed it in a form made of many rules. Creates a wonderful tension there.
Mingus is all tension and release isn’t he? This was fun. Thank you Sylvia. 🖤
Mingus mellow fantastic—my, my, I sigh
a poem!
Stolen directly from Donovan’s great little jazz song called “Sunny Goodge Street.” Check it out.
sounds like mr. mellow yellow