@stuartk
In regards to poetry being upfront with its meaning, I think that is not poetry. It's an essay or something else. Poetry, like jazz, must light a spark between listener (& reader) who must give something of themselves. But it's not that hard. You just need to think a bit and then the spark ignites.
I'm going to repost the Villa Lobos poem and then comment upon it, and you should feel that spark as a musician.
illa Lobos
in shady corners
along walls
where mud meets mud
& old men in tatters
sleep cool
in the dusty air
a lover tiptoes
from the softness
of lips
to the cold
precision of strings
I begin with an everyday lazy scene of old men dressed in taters sleeping in the shade. That's where art comes from, the streets. I say it more clearly in my Coltrane poem.
Could there be a larger contrast between these old men and a lover tiptoeing from soft lips. This is where music comes from too. From flesh and passion. But, it must somehow be magically translated into an art form--in this case music--by the cold precision of strings. Isn't that what music is for you? A lot of sweat and callus on your fingers translating the passion of a lover and the secret the lover carries down the dusty street past the old men to the instrument that translates it for other humans.
I'm going to repost the Coltrane poem later. Because I was disappointed that nobody commented on it. It's not super-duper obvious, but it doesn't take a lot of thought for it to become apparent. If I tried to sum it up in a one-line theme, well then it wouldn't require the music and language of poetry to bring it alive.
