[Dixielandjazz] Musical Haikus

[Fred Spencer]

Emanuel, James. Jazz from the Haiku King. Detroit, Broadside Press, 1999.
xv, 122, illus.

English is the basic language used in this amusing book but "Jazz in Six 
Tongues" reveals translations in French,German, Italian, Polish, Spanish, 
and Russian. According to the "Introduction", "The haiku form is indeed very 
strict, five-seven-five syllables, usually written in three lines." It was 
originally a Japanese poetic variation, but has become universally popular.
Almost half the book is haikus about jazz stars, among whom are Louis 
Armstrong, John Coltrane, Duke Ellington, Dizzy Gillespie, Thelonious Monk, 
Jelly Roll Morton, and Charlie Parker. Some esoteric topics such as 
"Jazzactions, Jazznews, Jazz Chopsticks, and Got The Blues (Haiklu and 
More)", with "Notes on Translators" and "About the Author", complete this 
unusual volume. (Reproduction of the text is strictly forbidden, hence no
haikus quoted)..

Another abbreviated verse form is the "Clerihew". Named after its inventor, 
Edmund Clerihew Bentley(1875-1956), an erudite English author, it is 
"usually biographical in nature and consists of two rhyming couplets. There 
are no restrictions concerning the length of the lines." These examples came 
to me after some thought:
Sammy Kaye
Had a band that could "Sway;"
But Goodman-style "Swing"
Wasn't his thing.

When Satchmo played
"Sweethearts on Parade".
"You copied it,"said Carmen;
But friendly Guy said "Charmin'."

A collection of this form of "jazzy" verse awaits an author. Steve?
Cheers. Fred.
----- Original Message ----- 
From: "Steve Barbone" <barbonestreet at earthlink.net>
To: <drjz at bealenet.com>
Cc: "Dixieland Jazz Mailing List" <dixielandjazz at ml.islandnet.com>
Sent: Friday, April 13, 2007 3:18 PM
Subject: [Dixielandjazz] Musical Haikus


> List-Message-Recipient: drjz at bealenet.com
> Music Haikus
>
>
> Squeaking and squawking
>
> All eyes roll to the heavens
>
> The clarinet speaks
>
>
> The jam session starts
>
> Someone calls "Giant Steps"
>
> Cold fear grips my brain
>
>
> Here's the chick singer
>
> Stepping to the microphone
>
> Pitch, time, all gone now
>
>
> Gig is going great
>
> Some one requests "In the Mood"
>
> I look at my watch
>
>
> Gorgeous chick tells me
>
> "You sound just like Kenny G"
>
> My ego shatters
>
>
> Three-eight, eleven-eight
>
> Damn you, Andrew Lloyd Webber
>
> Five-eight, seven-eight
>
>
> The woodwind doubler
>
> Practicing the sop sax
>
> Frustration defined
>
>
> Pit orchestra gig
>
> Days and nights become as one
>
> I have no life
>
>
> Bad intonation
>
> Banjo sharp, reeds are flat
>
> Brass, too loud again
>
>
> An oxymoron:
>
> "He plays the accordion
>
> With delicacy"
>
>
> "I can't find my note"
>
> Bemoans the chick singer
>
> "Quit now," we all pray
>
>
> Money's everything
>
> Playing any gig that comes
>
> Whores ... we're all whores
>
>
> That plate of hors d'oeuvres
>
> Cost more than we're getting paid
>
> Think we underbid?
>
>
> God bless Trust Fund gigs
>
> Only have to eat Ramen
>
> A few more weeks
>
>
>
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