Richard e Hill - a Writer's Journal

Esperanza Spalding, Echoes of Sarah Vaughn

Selected opinions from a seeking mind

Poem du Jour

Where is Love?

Is it on furrowed brow when you wipe away a curious frown?

View from half-closed eyes as lips quiver before anticipated kiss?

Encased in anxious arms sought and missed?

Heard in the laughter of a private joke untimely spoke?

It is wherever you are, were, or going to be

Just you . . . . Just me . . . .


Richard e Hill Baja CA MX 2011©  


Esperanza Spalding, Echoes of Sarah Vaughn

Echoes of Sarah Vaughn, Esperanza Spalding wins the Grammy for New Artist of the Year. Great news for Jazz aficionados such as yours truly as a rising star with a great voice has been duly recognized.

Check this link (and other associated You Tube related links) and enjoy real talent ---- .

 As the movie “The King’s Speech” moves towards anticipated honors and profits after hype with spin doctoring. The entertainment industry “did the right thing” ---- never mind, if you miss the Spike Lee referenced pun.

History ‘s blanket of rewrite hovered again with regards to King George VI who succeeded his brother the over-romanticized King Edward VIII --- the bon vivant who allegedly chose love instead of the crown when he abdicated  after 325 days on the throne to marry the divorcee. Although the movie may be inspirational to stutterers ---- a condition my late father overcame ---- King George’s and the House of Windsor’s support of Adolf Hitler’s rising Nazi regime is noteworthy. Pardon me if I missed it; if it was. (I wonder if Georgie said “H-H-H-Heil Hitler”.)

My apologies to the Cyber-ites as many felt both the New Year and Valentine poems were a bit noir. My poetry is largely extemporaneous; that’s the way it might have been when the poems were composed. There is a “warmer” offering in the Poem du Jour



Q & A (a summation of a frequent query):


Why do you write on so many topics? Are you showing off your brains?

I don’t believe I am a philomath.

An impromptu between sets conversation with the late Jazz piano great Oscar Peterson depicted Big P and his good friend classical pianist, Vladimir Horowitz practiced every day.

To paraphrase an apropos excerpt: “Musicians play and writers write” ---- at the time of this brief chat I did not have an inclination towards pursuing creative writing as a viable endeavor. 


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