Jim Dragoni, Jazz and Blues Guitarist

Moonglow

(a spirit dream)

I once lived with you in a spiritual myst
an ethereal world where the sun set red on evening clouds
and sparkling planets whispered in Moonglow

Silent Snow, soft to the touch, dusted the lake that we walked upon

And our words were not words at all, but thoughts,
like crystalline bells that ebbed and swelled
in the mystical light,
on a radiant night
of summer dreams in the wind

a gentle wind, where soft dreams glow
in musical shades of sunlit yellow

In a spiritual myst, and ethereal dreams
I traveled with you over wind and sea to a silver light world called eternity
where love and its opposite had no meaning

And we felt no pain, just white light streaming
thru a crystal glass our spirits passed
and traveled thru time, to and fro
like beams of light
from radiant Moonglow

And we said goodbye til we meet again
out in the a world of ethereal dreams
eternal streams of timeless light
radiant night
ethereal myst
in the Moonglow

Twenty One

What would you give to have this day fifty years hence?
Lady…urban sophisticate, unaware of who the world sees—
Grace, dignity, movement like the gentle ripples on the lake,
White lilies, ferns and willow trees!

The road ahead, windy and unsure calls you to an uncertain destination.

Walking with faltering step, avoiding the well worn path you find your own way.

Rejoice fair one! Destiny and fate—yours to create!

One chance in fifty billion years, you cut the multifaceted jewel that in time will be the splendor of you

Follow your dreams and on the way have your moments of bliss, exhilaration, love, sorrow and joy.

Over the mountain tops and valleys of your life,
toward the radiant Sun you'll fly

And when finally the journey ends, you’ll perhaps say what the Buddhists say…’ I lived when it was time for me to live and died when it was time to die’.

Take Back the Night

Take back the night
From the underground vermin
Take it from the darkness into the light

Save what’s ours
It’s what our ancestors gave us
How can we sit and not put up a fight?

They’re stealing our land
Stealing our children’s futures
Stealing our water, earth and even stealing our sky

I’d rather fight than sit and feel like dying
Rather risk losing all that’s mine
That’s what they’re taking
When they say they’re saving
There’s no more time to sit and wonder why

Haven’t you had enough?
You’ve been scammed and chumped and lied to
Cowed by the power in their hands

It’s time to see and know
And take some action
Do you hear me, don’t you understand?

Let them eat cake after we put them in their cells
Little green cakes, made from the fur of vermin
Out of our White House and straight to hell

Guantanamo Bay, Alcatraz, San Quentin…we’ll find a good place for em!

Iraq

20,000,000 of Russia's finest men killed by Stalin in concentration camps

the gene pool made thin, and no one could threaten him

AIDS began under Reagan’s watch—how many poor died around the world since then? The CIA admitted in congressional hearings that it experimented with a virus that could destroy the immune system--I suppose their little green monkey got out of its cage unnoticed and a little too soon?

Now the Bush Family brings us Iraq, Father Bush with his Saudi connections and now little Junior Bush with his brain of a predatory carnivore and a wretched cancerous tumour for a soul

See the pattern?

How many of our poor and working class will we lose--and of course Iraqis, now they don't really matter anyway do they?

The poor are never safe under tyrants

Hell no, my son won’t go and neither will I--he will not die for this lie

I’ll give up my citizenship first and this government and its spineless leaders can all go to Hell

END THE WAR IN IRAQ NOW/IMPEACH BUSH AND CHENEY

Mountain of the Sleeping Bear

Clickety clack, screech and bump go the rails of screaming steel

Lumbering, pushing and groaning-- pulling a thousand tons of man made passenger train through the Mountain of the Sleeping Bear—we stare through the windows in awe

A hawk flies toward the peak—six thousand feet--approaching a granite recess in the greenery—lush greenery, born of heat and dripping humidity like one would never dream in the West

The multi timbral harmonic three voice train whistle sings across the Gorge--we have arrived on this earth at the top of the food chain we declare! No trace of humility there

The announcement has been made and in this small stretch of paradise, our trail is pristine

So long ago the Leni Lenape lived here, peacefully hunting and farming the land

The stars were shining above and the valley echoed their soft songs of balance and harmony

Send me back to then, I’ll quietly walk the trail where the future rail will appear

Spontaneous connection…

Sudden and sure, clear signals, echoes from a future enigma

Heartland inflection, pure and sweet like corn in the fields rolling in the breeze.

The voice gives it away—sweetness and directness, rolled up together in a cool concoction that melts in the summer night.

Dramatic flowers and a cool summer dress, tall drinks and laughter—how to make it last into the darkness of winter?

The summer moon lights the way, I sip from the glass very delicately…

In Memory of Anthony G Bateman

Kindness and intelligence, blended with an educated mind
Lover of children, all children, as well as yours and mine

You were the protector of the innocent and the guilty too
the ones that couldn’t stand on their own came to you
And you never refused

Always a hearty hello, never a negative word from your lips
You always found the best in everyone

Your Irish wit was stellar
You knew the classics, philosophy, law,
and the historical nuances of your neighborhood and City

Your children were your world
Your pride was fierce as a lion

When those soon to be Ivy League boys threw that ball and your beautiful daughters graduated from school, you shone like a glorious sun-your life was complete

When the years began running you down
You never lost hope for the rest of us

When my times were hard, you remembered my song
And sang it loud in my ear
Til I awoke again to my own possibilities

Healer and Protector
Friend, Poet, Philosopher, Scholar, I’ll never forget you

'Sic transit gloria mundi’ (thus passes the glory of this world)

Jim Dragoni is a composer and guitarist. His performance areas include blues, traditional jazz, and original music. His music has received airplay in Europe as well as in the United States. He has been recognized for years on the East Coast as an artist, teacher, performer, producer and musical technologist.

Lincoln Center, Mellon Jazz Festival, Cape May Jazz Festival, Odette's, Havana, Academy of Music, Painted Bride Art Center, The Art Alliance, River Blues Festival, West Chester University, WHYY.FM, WRTI.FM, Widener University, Odettes...to name a few.

"Exciting performance...it was a gas!" Jenneth Webster, Program Director, Lincoln Center; reference to performance on 8-20-93

"...his playing is simply brilliant..." Dr. Herb Wong, international jazz critic and record company executive

"Sometimes it rocks, sometimes it swings, sometimes it is pure sweet poetry" Steve Lopez of the Philadelphia Inquirer

"Jim's ensemble playing and original compositions are superb..." Gerry Givnish, the Painted Bride Arts Center

"Music flows from Dragoni's instrument as smoothly as maple syrup..." Ed Wismer, Cape May Star and Wave

"...soulful rhythm with strong guitar riffs and an intense solo from Jim Dragoni" Steve Randazzo, Germantown Courier, reference to recording "Worlds" on Gazelle Records

"Check out his technique, the effortless speed...has thoroughly mastered his instrument...it would seem there's not much more for him learn about his craft" Jack Lloyd, in feature article, the Philadelphia Inquirer.

Jim Dragoni

Guitarist and Composer, Poet