Spitfire – a little Saturday fun

I rarely post videos. When I do, they’re musically driven.
I adore Helen Humes, spitfire R&B diva’s version of, “Drive Me Daddy,” a ‘let’s-go-let-it-go,’ song.
Through this song, Miss Hume’s captures a fearless, life-affirming style!
I can’t help but smile, smirk and sing along.
Happy Weekend!
😘

DRIVE ME DADDY – MISS HELEN HUMES

THOUGHTS OUT TO TEXAS THIS MORNING

you sexy things

seven am
returning from a school drop
two older gals
walking, striding, smiling
sun
yea, it’s shining
not as brightly as these two powder-fresh sprites
their white Sketchers impossibly polished
like their well-seasoned eyes
almost see facial twinkling from my car
I’ve lowered speed
decelerating
crawling my Ford tires
slow the rushing axles

beaming at these living cherubs
while I sing along with Sirius ’70’s

wouldn’t you know
you sexy thing
starts playing
too freakin’ perfect

exuberant I’ve grown while observing these fine ladies
damn, still buckled in
I wanna get out and dance
run, sprint
stride step with these great smiling ladies

I picture them shakin’
moving their tried and true derriéres like they were 25
and in their minds, they still are
easy to deduce by their meandering glitter trail

I bet these 2 beauties were live wires
the kind that stretched and sprang back
knocking all them young lads for a loop
and a tongue tie

with their bedazzling smiles
and fine fighting features
you go girls!
you sexy things!

 even more perfect ’cause I love hot chocolate especially after wine;)

it’s never perfect

out of body
experienced
feet in the clouds
head below the rest
not moving forward
but losing no ground
heart and soul
right now
a keyboard duet
for an invisible piano
will be studious again
at rock bottom
where the colored paper plays
the pencils swirl
and the brushes sweep into dance
the melody heard
by intruments
not requiring perfect circumstances
they know life
is never perfect
even at its most musical
guitar man

muse trident

long before tears conspired
to pour the four oceans
the ancient Greeks acknowledged

a lone muse could not satiate
a human’s desire

and ten divisible by two
too dull in its perfection

in cerebral court
it was decided
to incite
tridents of meditation
three groups of three
to wage ongoing battle

in homage to originality

perhaps
we humans need to believe
inspiration does not dwell within
and creative stimulation
is
something to unleash
outside ourselves

muses
nine
still may be
too few
blue horsesyellowed horses
inspired by avant-garde artist – Franz Marc’s, gorgeous colored horses, all of them

I’d Be that Tramp

through entertainment’s prism of 1960
one raging wish have I
to live a single glorious night
swaddled in Rat Pack company
blinded by devilish eyes and wily smiles

as black fedoras set like ascending jet planes
from center stage
swagger and melodies floating effortlessly
I’d inhale those gents’ intoxicating charisma
letting each velvet voice weave through my silk threads

beyond my mind
yes, this lady would be that tramp
not dishing the dirt
but tucking this beguiling dream
where she buries her most romantic schemes and sweetest treasures

and if it wouldn’t be asking too much of the fickle fantasy gods
this lady also pines for Mario Lanza
circa 1950
thank you
that will be all…;)
fedora10 minute sketch composed several hours ago, I’m a bit lazy today – ’cause this sketch needs more than 10 minutes…oh well, it is fantasy

Bluesman

Soul decanter
fluid fingering
pouring
velvet rhythms
transported
to another smokey bar
for us
cool blue nectar
will continue to flow
that is
the eternal gift
a passionate soul leaves behind

Guitarbot/Prisma

guitar guy picked with pencil months back while listening to Sinatra and Ella

I miss playing monsters with you

He was a beautiful man.
He was my mom’s brother.
He visited every year. We kids counted down the days for months.
He sang, Puff the Magic Dragon, and made us believe we could fly.
He brought us matching shirts from Mexico.
He was the only person in the world who could convince six children to wear them.
He was intelligent and creative.
He wrote a book about St. Vincent de Paul.
He played monsters with us.
He carried us on his back every year, until our shoulders surpassed his in size.
He visited us one summer then returned to San Francisco.
We didn’t know it was his last visit.
He died from complications associated with AIDS.
He was a beautiful man.
He was our beloved Uncle Robert.
uncle robUncle Robert is modeling the jacket I painted for him. Being the hip uncle, he wanted to strike a cool pose for his photo op.

AIDS has caused more than 36 million deaths.
Today, 35.3 million people are living with HIV.
AIDS was first recognized in the US in 1981.
Uncle Robert died in 1985.
He was 45 years old.