It’s a quarter past three on a Sunday morning. Darkness sits heavy as a blanket. It’s waiting for first light to seep through night and gently lift it. Strains of Billie Holiday curl into a hug of raspberry tea steam from my favourite mug. The cats have been fed and husband is tucked up in bed. In my solitude she haunts me. Just Billie and me, sipping tea, chewing toast and poetry. Kim M. Russell, 13th June 2023
This week at the dVerse Poets Pub our host for Poetics is Lisa with musical muses and musical inspiration. She reminds us of how music can “tell a story wordlessly, which allows the listener to feel without the impingement of the boxes of words” and also wonders “how many have been inspired to write poetry because of music?” She has given us some examples of poems by Rudy Francisco, Langston Hughes, Bill Holm and Amy Lowell, to inspire us to choose a musical artist, song, or genre of music and write a poem.
I have resurrected, reworked and given a new title to an old poem from October 2019.
Your post felt just like a cozy place. ❤
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Billie and Joni are my cosy places, Susan. 😉
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Beautiful piece Kim! 👌👌❤️❤️👏👏 Especially the last few lines! 😁
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Thanks so much, Ken!
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Perfect for a sleepless night. (K)
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Any time of the day really , Kerfe!
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Most excellent, Kim, especially listening to Billie’s song while reading. Love the wordplay in, “Strains of Billie Holiday curl into a hug of raspberry tea steam from my favourite mug.” and that last line emanates with energy.
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Thank you so much, Lisa. I could listen to Billie and Joni all day.
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You’re very welcome, Kim ❤
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This poem took me in and wrapped me up in your moment.
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Cheers Kim!
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A wonderful wake up; tea poetry and music.
Much💚love
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Thanks Gillena, and much love!
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Billie Holiday always sounds so lonely to me. Her voice oozes tragedy. I need to be feeling strong to listen to her.
I like that ‘chewing toast and poetry’ it has a sense of something tough and raw that doesn’t go down without a struggle.
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She was lonely. Most of the men (and women) she got involved with treated her badly. Her whole life was a struggle.
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You have created a great set of images in your poem. I can see you sitting there with your tea!
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Thank you, Dwight. I drink cranberry and raspberry tea every morning.
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One of my favorite songs. And such a lovely portrait of a moment of solitude.
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Thank you, Maria. Billie is an old favourite I will never tire of.
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Blues that comfort the ache perched between exuberance and destruction — that’s Billie for sure. A lot of haunting here in this insomniac’s late reflection. (Tea is so much easier on those thoughts than whiskey.)
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Thanks Brendan. Fruit tea for me every time, whiskey is not my thing.
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Love this Kim. I was there with you and Billie. A perfect cozy respite.
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Thank you, Dawn,
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A pleasure
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Such a voice! We’ll sometimes play Billie’s music to fall asleep to.
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