Archive for the ‘Old Pueblo’ Tag

Live Jazz In The Old Pueblo   Leave a comment

Old Pueblo  9724 - 2010-08-01-art-72.jpgLive Jazz In The Old Pueblo — Photo-Artistry by kenne

The Weary Blues

— Langston Hughes

Droning a drowsy syncopated tune,
Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon,
     I heard a Negro play.
Down on Lenox Avenue the other night
By the pale dull pallor of an old gas light
     He did a lazy sway . . .
     He did a lazy sway . . .
To the tune o’ those Weary Blues.
With his ebony hands on each ivory key
He made that poor piano moan with melody.
     O Blues!
Swaying to and fro on his rickety stool
He played that sad raggy tune like a musical fool.
     Sweet Blues!
Coming from a black man’s soul.
     O Blues!
In a deep song voice with a melancholy tone
I heard that Negro sing, that old piano moan—
     “Ain’t got nobody in all this world,
       Ain’t got nobody but ma self.
       I’s gwine to quit ma frownin’
       And put ma troubles on the shelf.”

Thump, thump, thump, went his foot on the floor.
He played a few chords then he sang some more—
     “I got the Weary Blues
       And I can’t be satisfied.
       Got the Weary Blues
       And can’t be satisfied—
       I ain’t happy no mo’
       And I wish that I had died.”
And far into the night he crooned that tune.
The stars went out and so did the moon.
The singer stopped playing and went to bed
While the Weary Blues echoed through his head.
He slept like a rock or a man that’s dead.

 

Come Blow Your Horn   4 comments

Old Pueblo“Come Blow Your Horn” — Image by kenne

Jazz in the Old Pueblo
where music fills the air
on summer evenings, 
where the dry air is cool
after 
a hot day in the desert.

*****

“All right, everybody, shut up!
And listen!

— Dave Van Ronk

Old Pueblo Cactus & Windows   Leave a comment

Tucson Folk Festival 2013Old Pueblo Cactus & Windows — Image by kenne

Boriqua

I’m a Hispanic because that’s what I’m branded…
I’m not a race I’m but a culture…
I’m but a mixture conquered by vultures…
I’m these urban streets that flow within me…
I’m from an island that I rarely see…
I’m born and bred a natural survivor…
I’m not a color for that’s a divider…
I’m but a being spirit real strong…
I’m but a mixture African, Indian, White…
I’m but a person blessed with true sight …
I’m but a warrior prepared for a fight…
I’m but a culture my race is all mixed…
Spaniards on a quest that came over on ships…
I’m but of mixed slaughtered beautiful races…
Embedded with this language from foreign places …
I Speak a language that came from blood shed…
The Indian and African in me will never be dead…
I’m a loud voice a candle that burns…
I’m but a sponge that absorbs as I learn…
I’m but a culture a bunch of lost tribes…
I am what I am till the day I die…

— Carmen Castro

Spring Folk Festival In The Old Pueblo   Leave a comment

tucson-folk-festival-2011-04-30-collage-ii-blog IITucson Folk Festival — Image by kenne

Spring folk festival

Americana music

In the Old Pueblo.

— kenne

Old Pueblo Christmas   Leave a comment

 

Old Pueblo Christmas_art blogOld Pueblo Christmas — Computer Art by kenne

Enhancing the color
of Sonoran Desert scenes

is not necessary,
but something I can’t resist —
not that it’s better,
it’s just mine!

— kenne

MERRY CHRISTMAS —

PEACE AND LOVE TO ALL!

Jazz At The Old Pueblo   3 comments

Old Pueblo

Jazz at the Old Pueblo — Image by kenne

“Do you hear a sound?

That sound isn’t promising anything

or proving anything

or explaining

or excusing anything

or meaning anything

or, pardon me for speaking rankly—

selling or buying anything.

Truth doesn’t sell or buy: truth sings.

I hear singing.”

— E. E. Cummings

Tucson’s All Souls Procession   2 comments

All Souls ProcessionAll Souls Procession — Computer Painting by kenne

At dark yesterday, Tucson celebrated its 25th All Souls Procession, with over 100,000 people participating or watching along the procession route. Dressed in customs, painted faces, and carrying pictures,  it’s a night to mourn, remember and celebrate lost loved ones walking the miles-long procession. This annual event has become one of the most important, inclusive, and authentic public ceremonies in North America.

All Souls Procession

Thousands merge in the Old Pueblo
Some to stand on the curb,
Others to walk in the procession.

They gathered at Toole and Congress –
Painted faces, masks, costumes, floats
And banners honoring the dead.

Positioning near the start,
Street and flashing lights
Replacing the daylight.

Darkness setting the stage
For the night walkers to rise
Moving to a steady drum beat.

Whimsical maidens carry urns of the dead
Collecting names of loved ones to be
Ceremonially burned at procession’s end.

A Whitman sound in the dark,
Beat! Beat! Drums!
Mind, not the walkers.

They move slowly in the procession,
Holding old stained photographs,
Beat! Beat! Drums!

. . . And play the fife lowly.

kenne

(Click here for All Souls Procession images.)

 

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