Friday, June 24, 2016
Coming up is PANORAMA 2016––our hardworking editor Rosalyn Ostler is asking for submission for this upcoming publication from current UTSPS members. Deadlines are June 30-July 31, 2016. So that's coming up fast. You can submit up to four poems including those who have been published or won prizes. Details at http://utahpoets.com/publications/2016/Panoram2016SubmissionGuidelines.html
Wednesday, June 8, 2016
Frank De Caria grew up a city boy in Ogden, Utah, living on Ogden Avenue and attending Ogden High School. Seeing an opportunity, he took a creative writing class his senior year instead of regular English where learning to diagram sentences and doing endless grammar exercises did not appeal to him. Thus began his love of writing, publishing his first poem in the high school literary magazine. He attended Weber State and Utah State, winning poetry awards and publishing in college magazines. Attending college on a music scholarship, he graduated with a degree in English and Art. After meeting Clarence Socwell at the Bookateria he began attending Blue Quill writers group and Ben Lomond Poets. He won the UTSPS book award in 1981 on his third try with his book, Song Within the Sounds. He is now a retired public school teacher and technical writer and is currently a freelance writer/photographer. He serves in UTSPS as our Laureate Book Sales chairman.
Soul-Splash of Jazz
By Frank M. DeCaria
Taking the stage in the easy caramel hours
of this forever twilight room,a symbiotic jazz quartet begins to improviseand reinvent the turning wheels of sound:Slightly to the back, in semidarkness,two expert hands thump and stutterwooden sticks across drum and cymbals,heart-beating the living air.On the left side, prancing beside each other,two handfuls of fingers measure and re-measurenever-wasted clusters of piano keys,finding perfect cords and blue notes.To the right, two more roving handscaress and fondle the long thin neckand perfect flat belly of a deep-voicedwoman-shaped string bass.And there in front, hard pressed lipsand the gentle fingertips of two more handsmake love to a soprano saxophone,until it coos and moans out perfect melodies.On and on, song by song, jazz menand their diverse instrumentsswirl harmonies into the vibrating air and earsof dancers and non-dancers alike,until a sleepy long-held finale of blue notesdrips slowly down the early morning walls,offering everyone at every tableone last elongated soul-splash of jazz.