a jazzin’ kind of night

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© Anmol Arora

free-handed percussions — nightly detours
into amatory affairs — touch and wiggle —

the ambient smell of stale booze, fresh-smokes
on their breaths, a chandelier dripping with light,
bursting and blooming into the eyes,

sax and guitar, reverberating desires, up and loud —
the head nods that leave no room for improvisation.

the fingers find their way to the sequestered spots,
recognizing the rising heat in the night-time breeze,

my nips attentive to words grazed against my neck
along the sternocleidomastoids (the tumescence and
detumescence palpable in a cloth traveled melody) —

the blues rise in a leaf-like cadence, my heart palpitates
to the response of my thighs (shuttered, caving all within) —

freehanded percussions, nightly detours that settle
all that rises, as the lights expand in a cross-rhythm,
chaotic, high-rising, groping, grabbing, pulling, spilling,

tinkling down my spine.

 

© Anmol Arora 2018

For With Real Toads’ Notebook Poetry: I do not know if my writing is even comprehensible — I do write in my notebook at times but mostly it’s when there is a rush of a particular thought or experience and I have to jot it down — so my pen glides all over the page in its need to capture all of it in a jiffy before it extinguishes to nothing — I have taken my time in penning this one down after typing it primarily with a few non-intrusive edits. Ha! As for the poem, I have used the precise terms for a particular reason which delves into the biological aspect, to distance it from desire or want. Hope it doesn’t hinder the experience.
Also linking it with the Poetry Pantry at PU.

***
I have been working on a new Insta handle for about 2 months now, for literary and creative posts: @anmol.ha.
For contact, you can reach out to me through my multiple profiles, enlisted here.

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41 thoughts on “a jazzin’ kind of night

  1. You have such neat handwriting, Anmol, and you’ve captured the ambience of a ‘jazzin’ kind of night’ in such lines as:
    ‘the ambient smell of stale booze, fresh-smokes
    on their breaths…’;
    ‘sax and guitar, reverberating desires, up and loud —
    the head nods that leave no room for improvisation’;
    and the repetition of ‘freehanded percussions’.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Gorgeous poem, thrilling music! My own spine now has shivers going up and down it.

    My handwriting is atrocious, always has been. But somehow the thought of a notebook poem is intriguing; might do one too. (Would probably have missed the prompt if you hav\n’t also shared with the Pantry, so thanks.)

    Liked by 1 person

  3. You’ve put me right into the middle of this experience, Anmol. I can hear the music in your words. Wonderful metaphors. This is one of my favorite poems of yours really. I agree you have neat handwriting. Seems handwriting is a lost art here…not stressed at all.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Kerry says:

    Anmol, you have beautiful handwriting! So artistic. This is a deeply layered and textured poem, with the senses given an overload of imagery.

    I will admit that on first reading I thought your line was ‘Sex and guitar’… but sax works just as well

    😉

    Thank you for sharing your notebook page.

    Liked by 3 people

    • Pat: willow88switches says:

      I read it the same too …. so either we all have “dirty minds” … LOL – or it just infuses itself so well for the natural exchange and ambiance here 😉

      Liked by 1 person

      • Ha! I thought I had the dirty mind with all the signals and sights of tumescence. XD

        Well, such an atmosphere has a palpable sexual energy in it, felt and enjoyed in its own sheltered experience. I certainly enjoyed my evening at the jazz club! I am rather glad that it could be a part of the verse. 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

        • Pat: willow88switches says:

          snorting with absolute delight! LOL – actually, maybe we’re all just closet hedonists 😂

          actually, such atmospheres usually are chalk full of all kinds of tensions and energies, including the sexual and perhaps, even instinctual, primal ones, – so why not explore it through verse? it’s part of life in all its fantabulous colours … 😉

          Liked by 1 person

  5. gillena cox says:

    Oh i could never write like that. Your penmanship is excellent. And so are your words
    Particularly luv this:
    ” a chandelier dripping with light,”
    Happy Sunday Anmol

    Much love…

    Liked by 1 person

  6. sanaarizvi says:

    I somehow always knew and visualized your handwriting to be wonderfully artistic! ❤ This poem sends shivers down my spine .. the images are vivid and puts one right in the middle of the painted scene!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Ah! That is very kind of you to say. I have a scrawny handwriting when it has to be done hurriedly. I took more time in penning this down to make it more neat and clear. Ha!
      I am glad that you found it vivid. Thanks, Sanaa! ❤

      Like

  7. First, you penmanship is beautiful as is your poem. I love the musical notes and the sound of a sax is the heart of the blues.

    love this part

    the blues rise in a leaf-like cadence, my heart palpitates
    to the response of my thighs (shuttered, caving all within) —

    Liked by 2 people

  8. OMG the language in this piece!! I absolutely love it. I have no intention of looking up those words I don’t know because I love how they feel unknown and rhythmic. Really great. Live music really feels like this… intimate and profound and full of desire. Gosh I love this. Love the photo of your written poem on your notebook page too, it is just perfect, though your handwriting is way more restrained than the scene it describes. 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

    • That is so very kind of you to say, Marian. Thank you! ❤
      Live music indeed has all those kinds of intimacies and profundities that make for an intrinsic part of its experience.
      I am glad that you liked the photo too — I wrote it with restraint after all. Ha! XD 😉

      Liked by 1 person

    • Pat: willow88switches says:

      I agree with Bjorn – Blues really lends itself to that “groove thang” … it’s like an instinctual let loose primal barefoot shake down …. so the way you’ve woven it all together is most apropos HA. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  9. Hearing and feeling music…this is a glorious and sensual poem. I love the sax and guitar and the way your nipples reacted. Your handwriting is so clear and readable. Mine looks like a drunken rat staggering through ink. this is mos def one for the books Anmol. Loved it.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Ha! I chortled at the drunken rat reference. I am sure that it is totally comprehensible. We don’t need written text anymore, not really. It is only from a nostalgic eye that we look up to them now.

      Thank you for your kind words, Toni! ❤

      Like

  10. You said it all with that sternocleidomastoidal! That is the tensile of jazz nights, for sure — “chaotic, high-rising, groping, grabbing, pulling, spilling, / tinkling down my spine.” I memorized the name in that muscle when I was in third grade because it was the longest one one I could find; I’m not sure I’ve ever seen it in a poem before, but then you never quite know what’s gonna come out the sax.

    Liked by 2 people

  11. Very cool. Some lovely linger-worthy lines in this – cascading to an awesome (and really, rather brilliant) close. A stunning coming together of visceral sensuality and music – which, of course, is at the heart of jazz.

    Liked by 1 person

  12. Pat: willow88switches says:

    I think you’ve pulled off so much of the essences and layers, the grit for the groove of jazz and blues …. it’s a body;s reaction – from the actual musicality of those playing, to those listening in hypnotic sway ….

    Liked by 1 person

  13. Margaret Elizabeth Bednar says:

    Very exciting and intimate a poem… I love the way it describes the music but also leads the mind to other things… Magnificently done! And your hand writing is artistic and expressive.

    Like

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