Late November,
and lonely resonance of harmattan
salutes this solitude.
A weaverbird's contralto, in one
gale-sweep, lays bare the lower balustrade
of a maisonette,
and the romance of the last seasons
shoots the long throat of the clarinet...
O'classicals, on wings
ye come;
leaf cusps and petal ears —
classicals, swearing oaths of
mellifluous assembly...
Calm rhythms hasten to the
ears of Beethoven —
summon him for a serenade,
lest the dark shelter of a
decrepit day strips this solitude.
Anodyne hisses among
this hidden threshold,
curing and healing the weakness of
Clepoatra's hair, dampened with
the venom of haters of vanity.
Classicals,
rid us now of this grief of mundane
dances...
Even in death, Stravinsky hails solitude
on notes of the keys.
From the clarinet,
the bimetallism of barter —
the platitude of life and death
(symbiosis of percussions)
epitaph to the aftermath of
inveterate tradition —
now and forever...
And the clarinet looms.
Categories:
clarinet, life, music, seasons,
Form: Free verse
If in all innocence
broccoli brings out flatulence
not to dwell but how many unfortunate smells
will it impart from a single floret
and in the end when it rends
does it sound like a bassoon or clarinet?
And what about the brussel sprout?
No doubt it will create heady fallout
and if on the quiet you ever diet or fast
as you are and repeat all you eat
this gas too at last shall pass.
Also the humble cucumber
which on you may do a number
what light wind
breaks through yonder soft butt?
Smile if while seated at the dinner table
as you may be able to blame the mutt.
Categories:
clarinet, humorous, wind,
Form: Rhyme
Today is Clarinet Day;
Well, at least that’s what I heard.
I played it once but it was not
The choice I’d have preferred.
In school, fifth graders were assigned
An instrument for band.
The girls all wanted flutes,
Which you can surely understand.
Though some were lucky, I was not
Among the chosen few
And so I played the clarinet,
Not much that I could do.
I never got the hang of it
And quit in junior high,
But joined the chorus, since my voice
Would, with the tunes, comply.
I hope all clarinetists
Can perform a bit today.
May their inner Benny Goodmans
Chase all naysayers away!
Categories:
clarinet, music,
Form: Rhyme
Hours after hours of practice
Making sounds that are polished pearls
Connected by a thin string made up of
Accelerando, arpeggios, and articulation
O, what wonderful colours you have!
Measures after measures of music
Playing with deep emotions that flow
Sometimes, the stream in the green meadow on a sunny day
Other time, the ruthless ocean during a thunderstorm
O, what diverse sentiments you convey!
Days after days as time passes
Never failing to sooth the heart and the soul
Inspiring in a way that builds and constructs
Confidence, courage, pride, and esteem
O, what comfort you provide!
Rehearsals after rehearsals with the full orchestra
Stepping onto the stage of the world famous Carnegie Hall
Performing in front of a full house audience, the cadenza
In Offenbach’s Orpheus in the Underwood Overture
O, what memorable experiences you bring!
Categories:
clarinet, appreciation, music,
Form: Ode
A Cute Clarinet
I was playing my pretty fiddle
And seems like somewhere in the middle
Of some song which I was playing
Everything started swinging and swaying.
Played part of Fifth Beethoven did write
When all my playing went out of sight
And somehow I broke my bent bow;
Then from Symphony home had to go.
My fiddle turned out to be a violin
And next time when I played it again
A new bow I now was busily using
Being careful with it and not abusing.
By Grand Ole Opera was being invited
You knew it when I became so excited
But again my bow became busted
Now I seemed to be totally disgusted.
After attending another jam session
I then decided to make a confession
My glue on false teeth finally did set
So I started playing a cute clarinet.
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
www.poetrysoup.com
Remember that April is poetry month.
Categories:
clarinet, funny, music, , cute,
Form: Couplet
There’s a J-Bird in my hand
Feels just like a gun
So comfortable
I might kill someone
Feathers come to dust
I walk sideways
Down the hall
Monkey brown
And baby *****green
Nothing sane about me
Take your time
Before you speak
I’m on my way to jail
Blue Jays and colored grass
Is all I have left
Speckled eggs
And rabbit holes
Will have to hold you
Till the band comes home
A carnival dream
And a canary hat
My banjo on my knee
Look under the bed
And read the book
It tells the story
Of a man who’s dead
Never loved a single thing
But his death and clarinet dreams.
Categories:
clarinet, confusion, death, depression,
Form: Free verse
Once knew a young filly named Lizette
She's really the reason I'm in debt
Spent all my money
Thought it was funny
But I loved how she played my clarinet
© Jack Ellison 2013
Categories:
clarinet, humorous,
Form: Limerick
Up and down my fingers fly,
connecting and leaving in the blink of an eye,
sparkling silver keys pumping up and down,
at shcool my fingers are treated with renown,
My silver rings flash in the brightly harsh light,
and I blank out enverything else from my sight,
focusing on the music in front of me,
whipping from the low A to a double octave C,
completing a measure and waiting a beat,
by then I'm red and sweating from the obscene heat,
mentally I sigh when I hit the decrescendo just fine,
I barely remember repeating measures six to twenty-nine,
and then with a sweeping bow,
I stride off the stage, and vaguely wonder "What now?"
Categories:
clarinet, adventure, art, music, silver,
Form: Rhyme