Day 22 ... NaPoWriMo / Poem-a-Day 2019

Maureen Thorson’s NaPoWriMo prompt: “Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that engages with another art form — it might be about a friend of yours who paints or sculpts, your high school struggles with learning to play the French horn, or a wonderful painting, film, or piece of music you’ve experienced — anything is in bounds here, so long as it uses the poem to express something about another form of art.” Robert Lee Brewer’s Poem-a-Day prompt: “For today’s prompt, write a correspondence poem. Maybe write a poem that would fit on a postcard or in a letter. Or write a poem about correspondence school. Or jump into newer forms of correspondence like e-mail or text messaging. Of course, not all correspondence is connected to communicating; sometimes one thing corresponds to another by being similar.” Mashing up the prompts today in alternating quatrains, with ten-syllable lines, decasyllabic. I’m kind of proud of the two-syllable rhyme of “Manzarek, and” with “rhythm section” in the third stanza. Enjoy! Letter to Bob Boynton, Music Prodigy Dear Bob: I find myself hearkening back sometimes to those old days when you and I were playing in garage bands, way way back in high school. You were the drummer and I was the guitarist. Remember that time when we tape recorded a practice song? It was The Doors’ “Light My Fire.” A damn fine recording, that was. Rickrock channeling Morrison, John doing Manzarek, and me wielding Krieger’s solo note for note, with you and Steve, best damn rhythm section. But, you know, Bob, we never really did justice to your skills, not only were you an excellent drummer, you also played the flute and, I think, the saxophone too. Guitar, bass — you were a quintuple threat! Whatever happened to that demo tape, do you know? We were really kicking ass that day. But you, old friend, you were excep- tional: rolling fills and cymbal crashes, keeping time with your strong foot on the kick, crisp attack on high hat and snare, a prince on the drum throne. Each time we played, you shook the stage like a damn earthquake. Thank you. —Vince —Draft by Vince Gotera    [Do not copy or quote . . . thanks.] Here’s a grainy photo of Bob and me on stage in 1968. This was in the band Peace of Mind, performing in the Golden Gate Park bandshell in San Francisco. The band in the poem was The Doomsday Refreshment Committee. Friends, won’t you comment, please? Love to know what you’re thinking. To comment, look for a red line below that starts Posted by, then click once on the word comments in that line. If you don’t find the word “comments” in that line, then look for a blue link below that says Post a comment and click it once. Thanks! Ingat, everyone.  ヅ

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