The tables set back from the glare
seat men who come to lose the night
in whisky under muted lights,
in jazz, in blues, in cheap affairs.
No talking here, no friends, no food,
just whisky poured out by the dram,
and saxophone, piano, drum -
The perfect place to sit and brood.
The sultry singer shows her range
and tells about her latest sin,
while drinks are served by faceless girls
who take your cash – and keep your change.
Pam Griffin When she isn’t chained to her computer, Pam likes baking, exploring old towns and people watching.
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9 Responses to “JAZZ NIGHT • by Pam Griffin”
Comments
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June 17th, 2011 at 12:19 am
I liked this. Very vivid imagery.
June 17th, 2011 at 9:54 am
I like the story-telling aspect combined with the rhyme. The scene set is vivid and interesting. I think it needs some final perception – a coda or punch line or some final line leading the mind to continue or deepen the thought or sum up the theme to round out the whole. It’s almost a fragment, but I like it very much.
June 17th, 2011 at 12:26 pm
Nice evocation of a certain kind of place. It’s jazz night, yes, but a barren one, no joy, no hope. Well done!
June 17th, 2011 at 12:27 pm
I loved this one–The feel is real, and the last line is a clincher. Well done.
June 18th, 2011 at 4:23 am
I like the rythym and the words but get the feeling this could be part of a much longer poem.It’s good though.
Well done on getting published. Keep on keeping on.
June 18th, 2011 at 12:17 pm
Great poem. Very atmospheric.
June 20th, 2011 at 11:25 am
This is great. Gosh how do you know about the despair and atmosphere of a Jazz night. I almost feel like putting on a jazz cd and pouring a whiskey. Well done
June 20th, 2011 at 11:28 am
hey ‘I didn’t say anything about awaiting moderation and it is now19.30pm on 20th june. Still great though.
June 21st, 2011 at 2:36 am
Love it! Took me right back to a little downstairs jazz place I visited years ago in Paris. Only thing missing is the blue cloud of cigarette smoke (obviously a post smoking ban poem :])