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The Sunday Poem is published weekly, and strives to include the poet reading their work.
Emmett Wheatfall reads his poem at its conclusion.
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Miss Janice Scroggins and Her 88 Keys
Some of them black
Some of them white
88 keys are from left to right
Oh, what joy
Oh, what delight
88 keys are gonna get played tonight
You see, the club is full
And every seat is filled
Does anyone know how the legend feels
The lights are low
And the spirits bright
Only God knows what genius has in store tonight
Alright, alright
It’s time to get real
Ladies and gentlemen
How do you feel?
Welcome to the stage
And welcome with me
Ms. Janice Scroggins and her 88 keys
Silky smooth and light as a feather
She opens with Oscar Peterson
Who’s listening from heaven
His dissonance and timing keep her head bopping
Just short of death she ain’t stopping
88 keys – they know this
Hell, they say “man!”
we ain’t gonna stop this”
Suddenly new inspiration comes
All 88 keys know this is going to be fun
You see, Scott Joplin has tickled her fancy
Intricate his timing – delicate his mastery
Jazz purists are left in a spell
88 keys stay hot on the trail
Her playing is tight – it tingle’s the ear
Hey! Someone shouts
“She’s paying tribute to yester-year”
Play on
Play on the crowd yells
Yet Ms. Scroggins wants to quell
With fascination
Her own interpretation of “Imagine”
John Lennon’s magnum opus
His anthem – the lyrical revelation that must become us
Then it was as if the whole club just shook
Even the drummer and bassist stopped to look
Ms. Scroggins has summoned the late great Mr. Sam Cooke
Why?
Because he knows her pain and then some
His message is her message
“A Change Is Gonna Come”
All night long she raptured with song
Her theory ingenious
Her phrasing—88 keys strong
Then the end came
As did the music the same
88 keys fell silent
No one moved – no one took to the night
Even though her mind and body was spent
To acknowledge the crowd’s ovation
She stood and bent
But the crowd would not relent
So again, she bowed and bent
Again and again, she bowed and bent
And like all the greats before her
Into the night she went
88 keys
Some of them black
Some of them white
88 keys are from left to right
Oh, what joy
Oh, what delight
88 keys got played tonight
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Listen to Emmett Wheatfall read his poem, accompanied by Janice Scroggins on the piano
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To characterize Janice Scroggins as an exceptional talent would be an understatement of epic proportion. Janice was a musical genius and my dear friend. We collaborated on more than one occasion, and she honored me by sharing her immense talent. Unlike in August Wilson’s brilliant play The Piano Lesson, where the piano was a source of consternation, for Janice Scroggins the piano was a portal to melody and rhythm without limitation.
Rest harmonically my dear friend.
-Emmett Wheatfall
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Emmett Wheatfall lives in Portland, Oregon. He is a published poet and performs lyrical poetry to music. He has three books of poetry published by Fernwood Press. They are As Clean as a Bone (2018) which is an Eric Hoffer Award finalist and Our Scarlet Blue Wounds (2019). His new poetry book With Extreme Prejudice, Lest We Forget is now available. For more biographical information visit https://www.poet-
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Listen to the 2013 recording of Janice Scroggins playing “What a Friend”
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Click here to view previous editions of The Sunday Poem
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Click here for information about how to submit your poetry
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I was not familiar with Janice Scroggins but loved her playing and Mr. Wheatfall’s poem. Thank you!