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Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Poetry In Motion



Sometimes you find ukulele players in the strangest ways. Walking through a shopping district in Atlanta, we encountered a couple of gentlemen offering free poems. After passing them by, the thought occurred that it might be fun to see if they could write a poem about a ukulele--thinking this might be a challenge.  So we turned back and asked for one. 

Who knew the poet was also a ukulele player? After composing our poem, he pulled out his ukulele and played us a tune. We told him about the Yesterukes.  He was equally surprised to come across another ukulele player--especially one who is part of a 20-piece band!

Here is his poem...

Jumping flea, hop off me
onto nylon strings under
waving palms.  A song comes
over waves as sunshine plays
between the bright wood, koa
and rose, tiny bubbles or
tim.  Flying strum or slim
notes, mele or hapa hoale,
sweet small music always 
at hand, bare feet and 
sand.  I love thee, ukulele,
reminder and mind of place.

We Yesterukes often think of ourselves as the only ukulele players around, and at many locations, we truly are. But it's even nicer to think of ourselves as part of a ukulele community that exists around the globe.



Poetry In Motion, by Johnny Tillotson, 1961





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