Jukebox Junction USA Published by Lilly Press Editor: Judith A
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River Poets Journal Jukebox Junction USA Published by Lilly Press Editor: Judith A. Lawrence River Poets Journal Co-Editor: Joseph Reich Special Edition All future rights to material Jukebox Junction USA published in the River Poets Journal are retained by the individual Authors/Artists and Photographers. A Poetic History To How Music Moved You November - 2009 Special Edition CONTENTS: Page # Poets & Writers Barbara Crooker 3 Robert Cooperman 3 Bruce Majors 4 Charles Rammelkamp 4 Davide Frame 5 Lyn Lyshin 5 Kenneth Pobo 6 Natalie Villalon 6 Nils Peterson 7 Roger Craik 8 John Riley 8 Peggy Landsman 9 Anthony M. Majahad 10 Dianna Robin Dennis 10 Debby Forte 11 Barbara Eknoian 12 Elaraine Lockie 12 Judith A. Lawrence 13 Delbert R. Gardner 14 Gretchen Fletcher 15 Jacob M. Carpenter 16 Richard Roe 17 & 25 Laura E. Holloway 17 Beatrice M. Hogg 18 Beth Browne 18 Vera Long 19 Joseph Reich 20-21 Carole Longo Harris 22 Louis Gallo 23-24 Neal Whitman 26 Julia Ponder 26 Editorials As I’ve mentioned before, one of the best things I just wanted to sincerely and earnestly say how about being an editor of a literary journal is the many wonderful and thoughtful submissions Judith writers you meet along the way, whether locally, and I received over the past few months for our across the USA, or internationally through mail or theme issue, "Jukebox Junction," which likewise email correspondence. just made our task that much more challenging in having to choose and boil down and triage it all into Joseph Reich and I were enjoying occasional email one thematic and salient collection; appearing to chats on all kinds of things, from poetry, prose, music touch on musical periods and influences all the way and art, to food, Philadelphia, NY, sharing some back from the Twenties to the present day, and favorite bands, singers, songs and groups we were encompassing a whole wide range of eclectic enthralled of and then one night in an email musical forms and genres. Joseph mentioned, “wouldn’t it be great to have a themed issue of poems that were inspired by music We were also pleased to have received a variety or favorite songs?” of submissions from so many different regions of the country, from small town to rural to suburban to the The idea really intrigued me as music plays such a big city, as well as internationally. large part in our lives. If I taped all the CD’s, records and cassettes back to back in my home I For all of those who didn't make it, I just wanted would have enough music to play continually all year to say how honored and grateful we were to have and then some. received your submissions, as well as your willingness to share with us what appeared to be I often question why I have this impulse to buy yet some real profound and sentimental and nostalgic another album when I know that I may not get around memories, and do hope the experience was as to playing it for some time, but the thought that it’s cathartic for you as it was for us. there, accessible for when I’m in the mood, allowing the luxury of the occasional laid back day or night, I believe what Judith and I have put together pulling out that old chestnut, sliding the disc into my here is a real insightful and intriguing, engaging and player knowing it will take me away, weave images absorbing collection as evidenced by "Jukebox and magic into the fabric of my life, and every once in Junction," and now please feel free to dig in at your a while even inspire a poem. own leisure, and mosey on down memory lane to the melody of your choosing, and wherever that path may The Jukebox Junction USA Special Edition has happen to lead you! been a labor of love. The difficult part of pulling this collection together was that there were so many Joseph Reich wonderful submissions it was difficult for both Co-Editor Joseph and I to make the final selections. Jukebox Junction, USA In our selections, the poet’s names were removed from their submissions, and each poem was assigned a number in place of for unbiased selection. I hope that you enjoy this wonderful collection and that the lyrics, music and poems bring back some meaningful memories and inspiration for you as well. Judith A. Lawrence Editor/Publisher 2 Name of Songs: Thunder Road, Independence Day, Name of Song: Dark Star 4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy) Hungry Heart Artist: Grateful Dead Name of Album: Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Name of Album: Live/Dead, 1969 Band Live/1975-1985 Setting: The Fillmore East, NYC Name of Artist: Bruce Springsteen Love Interest: Not Nearly as Important as the Music Verse: Dark star crashes, Pouring its light into ashes. Me 'n Bruce Springsteen Take My Baby off to College The Night the Dead First Played “Dark Star” at the Old Fillmore East We hit the turnpike early, O Thunder Road, every inch of the car packed: sweatshirts, prom Dark Star: a black hole. gowns, teddy bears, such heavy baggage. She's both But to us at the old Fillmore coming and going, this shy violet of a child, that night, “Dark Star” meant the teenager too hostile to be in the same room, the music of the spheres: breathe the same air. Now she dozes beside me as the car spools up the miles, and I slip in a favorite Pythagoras might’ve been up tape, raise the volume. Her skin, edible, a downy near the stage, twirling peach, her long hair unwinding. My foot taps the to the beat the drums laid down accelerator with the beat; the Big Man, Clarence hypnotic as a snake charmer, Clemons, pours his soul out his sax, yearning, the guitars and keyboards weaving, throbbing, as the turnpike pulls us west, like the dance of DNA molecules, bisecting Pennsylvania, tunneling through the the universe forming that night. mountains: Blue, Allegheny, Kittatinny, Tuscarora, this big-muscled, broad-backed hunk of a state. Garcia’s guitar a pterodactyl soaring on thermals, diving We drive deeper into the heart of anthracite, for prey just under the surface, the wind blows through the dark night of her hair. then stroking skyward again A harmonica wails and whines, brings me back to my higher and higher, almost more tie-dyed college years; sex looms like a Ferris wheel, than music was capable of. carnival lights in the water, but we've reached our exit, here she is, it's independence day, ready or not, And all the while we swayed Pittsburgh, city of smoke and grit, polished chrome like a field of wind-weaving barley and glass, soot streaked buildings, pocket on this night of pulsing handkerchief neighborhoods, abandoned planets, comets, and stars. steelworks, the Monongahela River. I deliver her again, heavier this time. When we left the concert hall, We set up the room, she turns cocky and sulky, dawn was turning East Village breaks into sobs when I leave. buildings the color of doves. On the return trip, I play the same tapes over and “What the hell was that?” over. The miles roll by, I'm driven by the beat, one friend asked. everybody's got a hungry heart, nearly there: “I don’t know,” I answered, Lenhartsville, Krumsville, Kutztown, “but I never wanted it to stop.” green rolling hills dotted with cows, Pittsburgh's iron and steel filling the horizon ©Robert Cooperman in the rearview mirror. ©Barbara Crooker 3 Name of Song: Purple Haze Name of Song: In the Middle of Nowhere Name of Album: Are You Experienced Artist: Dusty Springfield Artist: Jimi Hendrix Year: 1965 Year: 1967 Setting: Middle of Michigan Setting: Tennessee Technological University Hometown: Albion, Michigan College Student, Loose lifestyle Season: Fall, cool evenings Love Interest: The Sixties Verse: Baby won't you tell me/What am I to do?/I'm in Hometown: Dayton, Tennessee, Small Town, USA the middle of nowhere/Getting nowhere with you. Season: Quiet waves, Summer Verse: Purple haze all in my eyes, Hooking the Gut uhh/Don't know if it's day or night/ You got me blowin, blowin my mind/ In the middle of Michigan, Is it tomorrow, or just the end of time? just past the middle of the century, CKLW, the AM station out of Windsor, Flying Like Angels provided the background music to the movie of our lives. We made John’s Place an icon, Across the river from Detroit, Pabst Blue Ribbon like sacred wine, they played all the current hits a watering hole for the lost. to the teenagers in the cars Somehow we always got back to school. in the small towns in the middle of nowhere, Minds blew at the edge of knowledge, a non-stop stream of hit songs psychedelic dynamo, free love time, as we circled through the town, leaning toward darkness or light six or seven of us high school boys ––freedom was hard. packed in a single car, singing along to Motown, Jose Garcia wore ringlets of love the Jefferson Airplane, in army green, stepped on a land mine, the Dave Clark Five, came home in a box. Beatles, Animals, Rolling Stones. Didn’t make it back to school. We orbited the planet that was our town, our universe – We thought the smoke-filled days, liquid nights hooking the gut, in the local phrase – would never end––now it seems like, Victory Park, the college campus, what’s the song? Purple Haze… past fast food joints and ice cream stands, smoking cigarettes and talking But we were cool in that purple mist about the girls with whom driving the dark side of the road, we were getting nowhere.