Videos
If you want to perform the piece, the score is available at https://www.graphitepublishing.com/
Written collaboratively by Jocelyn Hagen and SPEARFISHER for Motionpoems (http://motionpoems.org/) with Jo Anne Miller and the NDSU Chorus.
Filming by Danica McDonald
Recorded by Doug Geston
Conducted by Jo Ann Miller
Mixed/Produced by SPEARFISHER (http://sprfshr.com/)
Text by Nikia Cheney (http://www.nikiachaney.com/)
Written by Jocelyn Hagen (http://www.jocelynhagen.com/) and SPEARFISHER
TEXT
hummingbird
A numbing
made of many
wings. A kissing
so fast they look
like blurs. A plump passive
drop of fur
with all the swirl and anxiety
of a city's veins
hovering past its
puff head to create
an irritating song in this drain
like voice and humility.
An awareness of good;
a need to make to
control each cloud
of jewels, the child's
mispronunciation,
the cold in the back
corner, her own
foolish dreams. She keeps
a bubble
around herself
and it is
not bad the layers
because a wall can be made
of static vibration, not
not stopped, but settled
assumed where the paths
are walkable despite
the odd looks
of a black girl as stranger
or rebarb to guard
the body against
the gunshot the frown-look
the need to press small
where it can to
gold the air,
dot each beat with
falsetto: feathers
dry winking wings
and her hope for love maybe
right there the frantic motion
propelling her
to keep murmuring
for more.
~Nikia Chaney
Written collaboratively by Jocelyn Hagen and SPEARFISHER for Motionpoems (http://motionpoems.org/) with Jo Anne Miller and the NDSU Chorus.
Filming by Danica McDonald
Recorded by Doug Geston
Conducted by Jo Ann Miller
Mixed/Produced by SPEARFISHER (http://sprfshr.com/)
Text by Nikia Cheney (http://www.nikiachaney.com/)
Written by Jocelyn Hagen (http://www.jocelynhagen.com/) and SPEARFISHER
TEXT
hummingbird
A numbing
made of many
wings. A kissing
so fast they look
like blurs. A plump passive
drop of fur
with all the swirl and anxiety
of a city's veins
hovering past its
puff head to create
an irritating song in this drain
like voice and humility.
An awareness of good;
a need to make to
control each cloud
of jewels, the child's
mispronunciation,
the cold in the back
corner, her own
foolish dreams. She keeps
a bubble
around herself
and it is
not bad the layers
because a wall can be made
of static vibration, not
not stopped, but settled
assumed where the paths
are walkable despite
the odd looks
of a black girl as stranger
or rebarb to guard
the body against
the gunshot the frown-look
the need to press small
where it can to
gold the air,
dot each beat with
falsetto: feathers
dry winking wings
and her hope for love maybe
right there the frantic motion
propelling her
to keep murmuring
for more.
~Nikia Chaney
