Josh Humphrey’s poetry has appeared in other publications, including Lullwater Review, Paterson Literary Review, Rutherford Red Wheelbarrow, Talking River Review, Lips, Journal of New Jersey Poets, US1 Worksheets, Epicenter, Soundings East and Oberon. Most recently, he had his first online publication in the Innisfree Poetry Journal. Currently, he works as a Library Director in his hometown of Kearny, New Jersey, a job that inspires much writing.
You can read his poem Ellington in the July 2023 issue.
Would you like to tell us a little bit more about your poem? For instance, how or why you wrote it, or perhaps provide some extra context?
First off, I am a great lover of all kinds of music, and classic Jazz is right up there with my favorite genres to listen to. I have always been fascinated with Duke Ellington. To me, he embodies someone who exists on a higher plane, like a God amongst us with all this knowledge. One of his early breaks was to be the house band leader at the famed Cotton Club, which ironically only catered to a white audience. So, many of his early recordings were composed to back up African American dance numbers for a privileged, white audience only, yet these are some of the finest Jazz compositions ever written.
Why was the poetic form the best fit for this particular piece of work?
Duke Ellington was the master of packing his ideas into time constraints and fitting his sound onto one side of a 78 recording. This is what I like about poetry, as well. I think that editing myself down to a single, powerful idea is the best, most accessible writing I can do.
Do you have a collection of poetry or even a single poem that acts as a touchstone?
For this poem, I really had in mind one particular piece by Duke Ellington. It is an early Cotton Club era song called ‘Concerto for Cootie’. It was composed for Cootie Williams, master of the hot growl trumpet style, a cornerstone of the band’s sound. While ‘Concerto for Cootie’ starts off in this signature style, Ellington has a surprise in store. Midway through the track, he allows Cootie to play clear and open for a stretch. If you give a listen, you will hear one of the most beautiful stretches of sound ever recorded, just aching and reaching so hard for a higher place. This is really what I was after with my poem, this position of being firmly on the ground, a master of humanity the way a devil would be, while at the same time capable of this rarified height like a God. Give it a listen. It comes right around the 1:56 mark: Concerto for Cootie (1999 Remastered) – YouTube
If you didn’t write poetry, how do you think you might access the same fulfillments that poetry offers in your life?
I can’t imagine not writing poetry, but I do wish I had the patience and aptitude to play an instrument. I’ve never been able to get past the sounding terrible part in order to eventually, possibly play well.
How do you revise your work?
I am constantly revising my work. This poem is a prime example of that. I wrote it many years ago, but dug it up again recently to add some changes. I really love the idea of revising in the sense that a writer is almost having a conversation with the person that he was when he first began a piece. I think there is a lot of strength that comes from the spark of an idea added to the maturity and calm of revision.
What are you working on now?
I always seem to be working a number of poems at once and, as I said, revising a little each day. At the moment I am trying to write a poem about my recent and first trip to London, as well as one about a baby that my parents nearly had when I was 10 years old or so. I have been imagining what my life would be like if they did give me another sibling.
How or where or with what does a poem begin?
My poems always begin with the spark of an idea. With this one, for instance, I could see this picture in my head as I listened to Ellington’s music. I sometimes work with ekphrastic poetry too, writing words for a piece of art. Sometimes, I find inspiration in history. Sometimes, I work with prompts to unlock something I never thought about before.
Are there other art forms that inspire or inform your poetry?
See above 🙂
How do you make space for poetry in your daily routine?
This is not an easy task. I work full-time as a Library Director and I have two children who I take to different schools every morning. Lately, I have become much more of a morning person, waking up around 6 AM to read and write. I find the early hours to be perfect for connecting to some things that get drowned out by the day-to-day craziness.
What are you reading or watching or listening to lately that intrigues or inspires you?
I am always listening to music. Just picked up the newest Bob Dylan record, which is very interesting in that he is reworking many of his earlier songs with completely different instrumentation–a master of revision for sure. I am also a big reader. Right now I am in the midst of Sense and Sensibility, an Austen I’ve never read before. I find the way she phrases things to be very interesting as well.
Have you ever received advice (or has there been something you’ve learned on your own) about writing or revising poems that has made you a better poet? What was it?
My original college poetry teacher, Carole Stone, always said to make sure you pay attention to your last line above all else. This is your dismount and it’s the most powerful thing you’ve got. I still write with that rule in mind.
Do you belong to a writer’s group? If not, where do you find poetry community and feedback?
During the pandemic, I started attending virtual writing sessions with the Montclair Write Group, a very warm and supportive group of writers. I still check in with them on Saturday mornings when I need some connection.
In terms of poetic style or craft, is there a big question you are trying to find an answer for?
I guess that, above all, I am fascinated with people and what makes us who we are. Don’t think I will find the answer, as it seems to be different for everyone, but I love exploring it through my own experience, through historical figures, through characters.