Tag Archives: music

POEM WITH NO NAME

By

I know

your name

but I will

not tell…

I saw

your picture…

but there’s no more

time

to wait

or to dream

or to take

some drastic

action…

and i

am ok with that.

after all

it’s been decades;

ions in a lover’s years,

with many

detours

and

and choices

in which we

we were never mutually

involved.

yet you

look peaceful

with a light

that must come

from faith

or joy

or gracious

resignation;

or something else

that i may not

understand;

and in that

I may be

your

twin,

separated

at that painful birth

and with you

now

living,

but

drawing

closer

to

that

final

chapter

of the book(s)

that

we

have

written.

Linda Tauhid

©️2/20/24

Maestro Les McCann

By

the maestro

left so quietly

that i almost

missed it.

i am sure there must

have been a seismic shift

or some other

universal phenomenon

to recognize his going

or to celebrate

in the world

he will now

be inhabiting.

if not,

the shift

in my heart

should be enough

for now.

“Trying to make it real

compared to what…”

as the greats leave

one cannot mourn

because what they left behind

is self-sustaining,

above

mortality,

timeless.

so we let them rest

and play their music

and sing their songs

to keep ourselves

believing

and

to soothe

our

souls.

Linda Tauhid

©️2/4/24

Psychedelic Memoir

By

i sat

in that stairwell

nursing

some small

disappointment

that i had conjured

up

to be major.

a missed connection—

a star-crossed

dream of youth,

a minor hurt

that would be outshined

later

by

the real thing.

it was

the time

of openings

as well as closings.

soul covered dances

Aretha howling

bleeding into

the mystical sound

of a recorder,

the voices of

Grace Slick.

and

Marty Balin

surrealistic,

but no cover,

no pillow,

and no place

to rest;

just movement

and change

candles

in Chianti bottles

and Black boys

that wanted sex

i would

deny.

i am weary

and waxing

nostalgic

but,

is there

something

better

in this time

of forgetfulness

and mis-

fortune.

yet a new loneliness

tempered

by

time,

emptiness,

and

choice

has

surrounded

me.

Linda Tauhid

©️11/19/23

“Like”

By

i like you best

when you are sitting

at your Baby Grand,

in Ghana, no less,

playing

into

the silence,

disturbing

the air

with the beauty

that your soul

can see,

feel,

and express.

I like you best

when you are mesmerized

by

your purpose

as it articulates

itself

through

spirit

and talent…

when the wonderful

life

that you

have built

shines

across

the miracle

of cyberspace

and

touches

hearts

and

minds.

Linda Tauhid

©️10/13/23

Home

By

we had to walk up

two flights

of stairs

to reach

the place

that we called

Home.

it was safe

and we had all

that we needed

and my mom

was

the centerpiece,

the force field

of our existence.

she worked,

she cooked,

she cleaned

and dressed us

for weekdays

and Sundays.

in the later years

when I was in college

i could always bring

a friend home

for a night time

Sunday meal

when they were

tired of eating

dorm food.

and Sunday nights

the day’s meal

would be sitting

covered on

the stove.

and I would serve up a plate

for a friend.

my mom would be sleeping

by then;

she was clearly aging

and tired.

and i thought

not much

about my advantages

and blessings.

but

Ma

is years gone

as are two

of my siblings;

and i think of them often

and hope they

are in

the best place;

the place

that

they

deserve,

‘Home’.

©️Linda Tauhid

7/16/23

https://youtu.be/Ug-10cLg9w8

Saying farewell to Eric

By
Eric Jackson, Jazz DJ

I just thought of Eric and decided to Google him. His death notice came up promptly. Although it was a great shock, this is happening quite often to me among my contemporaries and not so unexpectedly sometimes.

Anyone who follows me may know that I am an avid jazz and music fan. I often do music and artist reviews spontaneously. Music has been a formative institution of my life since I used to crawl on the floor as a toddler and fondle my dad’s 78 RPM collection. This love has continued throughout my lifetime.

In my later high school and early college years I started listening at the behest of my older brother Harold (late), to the many complex jazz rhythms and their composers of the day. I became a fan by proxy and course it all seemed so cool until I actually “ fell in love” with the music—a ‘love’ that lingers to this day.

I used to listen to Eric’s show on WBUR radio (Boston University) as a single woman in my early 20’s. It was a time full of loneliness and change and the music of the timed help me to weather both of these realities.

I was always in tune with the music and became a pretty avid collector of vinyl albums. My sensibilities, which had been badly abused by the harsh realities of my development were soothed in the aura of the music of the time.

Years later after a stint in Rhode Island, which had great college jazz radio, and a stint in Chicago, which had great live jazz, I returned to the Boston area. Eric had never stopped playing and promoting music in all those years. I used to see him and his wife at a local mosque that we attended. I was happy to find his show and continue listening to him throughout the mayhem of the late 70’s to mid 80’s.

I moved to the San Fransisco Bay Area in the mid eighties and again began to focus on live jazz since the offerings were so diverse. San Jose State University did, however have a great jazz show that I followed.

Sometime since my move to Houston in the early aughts, I found Eric on Facebook and followed him. I let him know that I was a long-time fan and we began to chat on occasion and exchange notes. In Boston Eric was known as the “Dean of Boston Jazz”, so I never forgot my place in the hierarchy during our exchanges.

At some point I found it too difficult to go back through all of that time and space in my own history to listen to Eric’s show, Eric in the Evening on WGBH radio, Boston. Thus, it has been awhile.

I offer condolences to Eric’s family and listeners. He was truly a master of his craft (DJ) an an undisputed jazz historian who was also generous and kind: from Allah do we come and to Him is our return.

Eric as a young man with noted artist, elder, and street performer Brother Blue (Dr. Hugh Morgan Hill, late)

Linda Tauhid, MS

Linda Tauhid’s Journal

Rainy Days (and Sundays…)

By

help me

make sense

of things…

I am clearly lost.

I thought that

one and one

equaled two;

and that the sky

laughed and cried

for us

all.

but it seems that

I am seeing

too many

rainy days

and not

enough

flowers

are blooming

from the effort.

people:

we disappoint

too often

with a wide range

of actions

both large

and

small.

Linda Tauhid

©️10/23/22

https://youtu.be/qiq2SnT2HKg

Natalie Cole

By

4/6/50-12/31/15

where

you

are

now

the angels

listen

to you

sing

and know

that

you are

of

them.

where you

reside

all live—

for death

has

passed.

I know

that

i

am near heaven

yet

so far,

but i

take flight

see

His light

feel

His might

through

your

voice—

in

your

song.

Linda Tauhid

©️9/25/22

Gil Scott Heron

By

he wrote 

and sang

poetic verse

that helped us navigate

through our

college years

and beyond…

we needed to hear

The Word

at every turn

walking down

that road

of evolution

to revolution;

finding

our way

and staking a claim

on sanity–

as it were;

by the time i got to see him

he was skin and bones

performing

at the west coast

venues

that i

used to frequent.

but even

the fragments of

this man

had power

as well

as madness.

and ours

is not to judge

but to stay 

focused

on challenges past,

challenges

present,

and challenges

ahead.

Linda Tauhid

©9/8/22