We are pleased to present our next Poet To Notice: Connie Johnson

Connie Johnson is based in Los Angeles, California. We are so thrilled to share her jazz poetry. As a poetry fan it’s fun to read Johnson’s poems; as a jazz fan it’s transcendent, reaffirming and informative to read her poems. For example, in the informative category, Lonnie Johnson is new to me; I know who I will be listening to next! Jazz poetry is your friend with a bigger record collection than you who is willing to share with you the dopest titles. Her debut poetry collection Everything is Distant Now (Blue Horse Press) is available now!

Because He Smiled Like Satchmo

Lillie fell for his Jazz:  Louisiana man in a ritual 

Of awakening.  Don’t let the smile fool you! He is comfort 

And what is cumbersome. A trumpet blare! of lilies, an elegy 

For all sins thought and committed. In a waterfall of sound 

And fire, he bared his teeth and she saw spirits playing: 

Spirituals, Ragtime, Swing. The Blues! Like a Cotton Club 

Girl on his arm who passed the paper bag test, all was lovely. 

All was copacetic!   O backbone complexity of shrieks, 

Blues and Bebop; it bespeaks fiery sound, the smoky lure 

Of all that is New Orleans, Louisiana. His striding improvs 

And Bebop left her breathless.

—–

You Are the Cat on So Many Tin Roofs

And what kind of jazz do they favor in Tennessee? 

Stop and ponder as we sip on Tom Collins, a sloe gin fizz 

And pink squirrels. This is what they call the sophisticated life! 

We descend from Orpheus; we keep things lively. I am every 

Phonograph record in your collection: I am Lonnie Johnson 

Moaning the Jet Black Blues. Blues shoot from my fingertips, 

But I’m still feeling Okeh! I’m Roosevelt Sykes, though on 

Many a Saturday night they call me the Honeydripper. 

Oh baby, pick up on what I’m delivering 

As I send you the Mailbox Blues!

—–

Esther

I always thought you looked a little bit 

Like Esther Phillips / blues-defined 

The differing of introspection 

The innuendo of your voice 

Implying things / your blues risqué 

Lyrics autobiographical 

A Galveston blend

Of White Port Wine 

And lemon juice

In a slinky dress 

The color of 

Bordeaux

Transported!

In a note for note Charlie Parker 

Reimaging / were you born 

To sing the blues? 

Alcohol and heroin 

All the way down to hell 

And back again  

Must I break protocol 

To remind you that home

 Is where the hatred is?