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Words are the way I drive.

Choreopoems, vocalogues, memoir, vignettes, poetry, songs, spoken word... In this site, there's some of all of it.

A microphone in hand at age two. Staten Island native. Grew up on islands. Lived in NYC, Wisconsin, Key West, and on Alligator Point peninsula. A South Pacific, Caribbean, Yucatan traveler.

Spent time as a NY cab driver; donut girl; sea turtle patroller; singing ice cream-waitress; creative writing professor; dolphin and whale-shark swimmer; wildlife rescuer; salon host. Devotee of the Dog Star.

Publishing and performing for over thirty-five years. Giving readings and performances throughout the lands.

Inspired by Heart and Soul Beloveds. Chelsea Boondocks. Off-the-wall, eccentric, eclectic, off-the-beaten-path dreamers, do-ers, and delvers. Neo-Beat compadres. Exquisite vibrations. Tugboats. Books. Books, Books. Rock `n roll rhythm and The Blues. High school and college English teachers. Word worshippers. Wild geography. Sound and color. Four-legged angels. The Sacred. And all things Water. It all adds up to

the heart of poetry

gong sisters donna gong color donna gong black and white

Poetry

The Man in the Mangroves Counts to Sleep

To hear the stereo version of the opera, The Man in the Mangroves Counts to Sleep,

go to:  http://www.jamminpower.org/MAN.html

 

The whiskey quart dims the light.

The blue tarp stretches over me

for another infinite night of lying back in headphones

and old paperback crimes.

Between my dozens of cigarette boxes and clear bottles,

and some other dirt bag's and his old lady's,

I'm hidden in a valley of trash.

Would take me only three shopping cart trips

through the parking lot to clean mine out.

But the jumble is familiar as home.

 

My long-talking and quick-drinking boat friend

who uses the trees as a dinghy dock

(over a year and I don't know his name),

brought by the cleanest girl tonight.

 

I could tell she was spotless inside and fat-rich out.

Like an angel from my old mathematician days,

when everything fit together.

 

Straight-backed and poker-faced,

she's skimming this night swamp for what?

She wants to observe through glass,

scratches at the thought of lice,

wants to be this world's stranger.

But sits on the edge of my permanent blanket anyway ‐

what I can extend ‐

and asks me real questions.

Like my name.

 

I almost forget how to answer in structures.

 

I call her

Lady.

No woman has had me in years.

 

In another life, I was a Christmas baby on the Pacific coast.

Grew up to figure on chalkboards and ride formulas to the sky.

 

Newton, Koeppler knew the secret of angles spreading to curves.

I got close to the Pythagorean magic.

But it was too painful a ride.

 

For years I wanted to skew the numbers so nothing added up,

like the family's and country's creed.

No accident there. Numbers are forgiving.

 

Or did my fine shoes walk me out into one choice

after another,

getting muddier, dustier, wafer-thin.

Getting me here.

 

Day comes and goes quieter under these trees that root

through water to sand, learning how to live without ground.

Now I understand how it makes perfect numerical sense.

Like the music of the spheres.

 

I've slept on hot highways, under trees in storms,

on icy storefront steps,

north east west south and all permutations of this country

and this mangrove swamp right now

is what it all equals up to.

A warm sure place. A finite place. The only place.

 

Key West's finest usually shake the bushes on Friday mornings

when we know to disappear.

Got two easy jobs to keep me in bottles and cans.

More money than I can spend. The V.A. for my coughs.

And drinking slow and constant makes my bed soft.

 

My sharp blue eyes still startle in the morning

when I look in Kenny Roger's men's room mirror

and wash away the mangrove night.

My elliptical face will not relinquish its handsomeness,

even though it's hazed and climbing the lift downward.

Every dusk, I watch the dark descent until I'm part of it.

 

The black water bordering me matches the sky.

I ride the boat and can't get up no matter who whistles

or calls Hey Buddy or wants to steal my time

for something other than the journey to the place

where it all blanks out.

 

When I surrender to the numbness of numbers.

 

Enter the city of denial, where everything's a negative,

and I sleep with small fear of waking in the big mooned night.

 

Light will you still sum me up?

How far will you go before you're unwilling

to stop me from slipping to the other side of zero?


This poem appears in Donna's book,

Under the Influence of Paradise — Voices of Key West.



Under the Influence of Paradise

Under the Influence of Paradise — Voices of Key West.

This congregation of imagined Key West characters, from pirates and a Houseboat Row dweller to Cuban refugees and a Queens Cement Pourer, is available for purchase on my personal Artist Shop.

Purchase Book



My Stories

“Easter Night and the Seagull” appears in Donna's forthcoming e-book collection of memoir-essays, Cathedral of Dolphins.

Biographical and historical details have changed since this essay was first written in April 2002. For instance, pay phones still ruled twenty years back, and the Alligator Point KOA only exists in memory. However, the FWMA and wild lands and spirit live on.

(This piece appeared in an early issue of Tallahassee's Apalachee Review. The Florida Wild Mammal Association can still very much use donations.)

 

easter night and the sea gull

 


My forthcoming e-book collection of memoir-essays, Cathedral of Dolphins,
will be available for purchase on my personal Artist Shop.

Artist Shop

 


Tunes


She's Taking Him to Mallorca

“She's Taking Him to Mallorca”

Donna Decker – Lyrics and vocals
Charlie Wilkinson – Music and electric bass, background vocals
Dean Newman – Lead guitar

Produced by Donna Decker
Recorded at Winterstone Studio, Tallahassee 2017
Mixed and mastered by Pete Winter
BMI Registered. Copyright




I give you “Yes!” – an anthem for our time.

It’s been described as “aboriginal jazz.”

Note: This piece is best heard on ear buds, a closed headset, or a good sound system.
The frequencies of the percussion instruments are subtle.

“Yes!” was written after hearing lines in a dream after my beloved mixed bull terrier, Lilly Belle, died.
It was originally entitled “Dream House” and “The House as Gift.”

I am grateful for the vibrational artists who joyfully shared and played with me on making “Yes!”
an intuitive, spontaneous, and loving sound-piece of spirit.

Donna Decker – Lyrics; Vocals; Animal Sounds; Arrangement

Artemis Dove – Native American Flute (in F); Rainstick; Dolphin Bowl;
Small Singing Bowl; Hoop-frame Drum; Vocal Animal Sounds

Jasbir Kaur Khalsa – jiji – Paiste Gong with mallets

Linda Livdeep McCue – Raphael – 32” Paiste Gong with mallet and flume; Shruti Box;
Large Yak Bell with mallet; Tibetan Healing Bowls; Koshi Air Chimes; Bells; Rattle

Lydia Riedell – Standing Chimes; 18” Crystal Singing Bowl; 10 Himalayan Singing Bowls; Thunder Drum;
Rain Stick; Koshi Chimes; Yak and Dragon Bells; Wind, Wuhan, and Venus Gongs; Rattle

Vicki Westmoreland – 24” Elk Frame Drum; 16” Ocean Drum; 10” Hand-held Gong;
Tibetan Singing Bowl; Six-Note Chime; Koshi Chimes; Rattles

Repetition of Chorus – All Performers

Produced by Donna Decker
Recorded at Winterstone Studio, Tallahassee 2017
Mixed and mastered by Pete Winter
BMI Registered. Copyright




“Junkyard Love Blues”

Donna Decker – lyrics, vocals
James Andrew (Andy) Moorer – saxophone, music, arrangement
Sir Charles Atkins – keyboards, vocals, music, arrangement
Deb Berlinger – drums, percussion
Brian Durham – upright bass, vocals
Danny Goddard – electric guitar
Kelly Goddard – acoustic guitar, vocals

Produced by Donna Decker
Recorded at Winterstone Studio, Tallahassee 2011
Mixed and mastered by Pete Winter
BMI Registered. Copyright




“Road”

Donna Decker – lyrics, vocals, music, arrangement
Kevan McCann – electric bass, music, arrangement

Produced by Donna Decker
Recorded at Winterstone Studio, Tallahassee 2018
Mixed and mastered by Pete Winter
BMI Registered. Copyright




“Wings Cover Me”

Donna Decker – lyrics, arrangement
Jasbir Kaur Khalsa – playing Paiste gong, jiji
Linda Livdeep McCue – playing flume and Paiste gong, Raphael

Produced by Donna Decker
Recorded at Winterstone Studio, Tallahassee 2017
Mixed and mastered by Pete Winter
BMI Registered. Copyright



She's Taking Him to Mallorca, is one of the songs that will appear on my new album Welcome Home, DD!, which will be available for purchase on my personal Artist Shop.

Artist Shop




Vocalogues or Audio Monologues


i have your petty secret

"Bilingual: Speakin' Outta Both the North and South Sides of My Mouth"

Donna Decker - Prose

Andy Moorer - Music and banjo

BMI Registered


I have yor petty secret

I Have Your Petty Secret

Donna Decker with musicians Gabe Butterfield, Frank Lindamood & Andy Moorer is available for free on my personal Artist Shop.

 

Free Download





Performance



My new chapbook The Yoga Poems which includes Hot Yoga is now available for purchase on my personal Artist Shop.

Purchase Now

 

Coyitito and the Stars book trailer is excerpted from H. Decker's novel, Coyitito and the Stars. More information can be found at www.coyititoandthestars.com.




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