Saturday Night Porch Sax

such a nice way to paint the mood. I especially like the last two lines, very well written, very poetic. wish I could have been there... respectfully, your proprietress

I too love the saxophone. It is especially good at expressing 'sad happiness', as your poem neatly suggests. Best wishes, Robert.

example of a few loose tendrils constructing a minimalist's picture. Glimpses, peeks, sidelong glances, they relax like the sax Also a very good example of but few words saying much. I think, incidentally, that many if not most writers, esp. neophytes (rookies/tenderfeet/those who try too hard), splash stacks of words in the reader's face when to subtract makes better, makes gentler, makes stronger. Thanx, Chuck PS: Further incidentally, my Webster's spells saxaphone as saxophone. Just thought you'd like to know. It does seem that saxa comes closer to how it's commonly pronounced.

Saddened happiness--soothing chills--I love oxymoron. I can feel the emotion in the way you used those words--just like listening to the bluesy blowing saxophone. You strike me as a bluesy guy. Is that true? Do you play? Yours D.

and the rest. The second stanza to me is a tight expression of form and practice- the chalk and the image. Wonderful write, no crit. cheers, Jess "They that give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety" Benjamin Franklin.

What is the sax without Jazz and what is Jazz without the sax. You have captured the mood exuded by Jazz in a nut shell. Guess you are are ardent listener of Jazz. From one Jazz entuhusiast to another ... Leonard

Smooth musical piece here Moon, I truly enjoyed the magic of the Sax~ _____________________________ To write a touching poem, you must gently stir the soul, if it brings forth tears or smiles, then the story was beautifully told. ________Janice Pearce_________

Richard I love all music but the sound of the saxaphone is so smooth - mellow even haunting, sexy. I play a little drums piano guitar clarinet and violin. I have been drawn to the saxaphone recently again. The haunting melody just flows like and endless river. I can imagine sitting on the porch on a lazy afternoon or in the evening. when the sun goes down and sit there and play to the moon above. Where the sound is carried on the cool night air. What an echo. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm Happy days Electric blue

still lovin' it... Kata

yay me!!! five stars!!!

myself. Every time I see your title here, my mind thinks it sees Saturday Night Porch Sex (instead of Sax). How embarrassing for me. How ashamed I am. And to think you intended no such a thing. Regards, Chuck

I really like the idea and presentation of this poem. As to the above comment, Olya says everything is about sex. I dispute, but not too much. The poem has more really nice lines than the last one. Here some of my favourite lines are: sweet colored chalk swirling fragrant mixes broken pieces fitting… I think that you are also moving nicely past short descriptions into the jungle noises of pain. Look forward to another iteration. bjp