Clarinets Poems

Carousel Ride

the clock strikes dusk 
the sun fades away
a thousand golden lights blinks 
to set the scene on fire

crowds carouse
for the merry-go-round
that bright crown of the carnival night

under that picturesque parasol
children clamber up the golden saddles
atop alabaster rides 
galloping through infinity

then drums snare with cymbals 
while clarinets and woodwinds shriek
in jubilant symphony

laughter jingle 
as the circle twirls
and the colourful world dissolve 
to a colourless blur

In Defense of Saxophones in Rock

I've got the lecture notes ready
I've got the examples 

Just blow what I'm telling you to blow
I am responsible for the resurgence of the sales of saxophones 

I unlock the doors of my car
By raising my right palm

You saw the crescent
I saw sod all 

You need a guitar player
Bass and the whole caboodle

But don't stop there
Get yourself some 

Man clarinets
And ear trumpets

In fact
Sack the band and 

Just have a sax on stage
And horn away

Nostril reeds and
Ostentatious bellowing 

I'll be your mouthpiece
I'll pretend to be from L.A.

Cringetown bottom burp

The Fourth Grade Concert

The fourth grade band was playing
But my eyes were there alone
Not for flutes or clarinets or drums,
Just Henry on trombone.

All the music was familiar
From the practicing he’d done,
So I knew just what was coming 
Once the concert had begun.

He looked confident and happy
Sitting up there on the stage 
As I realized, in his childhood,
He has turned another page.

What a thrill to watch him growing
And I know if I’m around,
That wherever music takes him,
That’s the place where I’ll be found.

Don'T Lie To Poets

You can’t lie
To a sweet lyre bird,
You can’t lie
At a small primrose,


Nor to a young Clarisse,
No one will lie,
Or a lying cat,
You can’t lie to me,

You can’t lie to me,
To a white rose,
You can’t lie
To a big yellow elephant,

Men lie too often,
We have to protect ourselves from it,
Flowers, cats, elephants
Understand this well.

We don’t lie to primroses,
We don’t lie to cypresses,
You don’t lie to vipers
Let’s hear what they tell us,

Don’t lie to poets,
On violins, on clarinets,
Don’t lie to daffodils,
Don’t lie to lovers,
Tomorrow they’ll thank us.

Poem In C

clever clouds
chase
cunning clarinets

curious cats
collect
cacophonous cicadas

colorful candles
captivate
cavalier crowds

-----

cavalier crowds
captivate
colorful candles

cacophonous cicadas
collect
curious cats

cunning clarinets
chase
clever clouds

Guesser

ibanez, ibanez, ibanez to make her dance
french horns to tones of a bassey groove
the bassoons move the volumed effords
coupled with the flutes: the clarinets often are envious
we rather not fuss
we are smart enough to compromise
cornets and trumets the sounds of muted streams
you know what I mean, ya'll know what I mean
smooth groovey sounds, make us wanna move our thangs
aint knowthing wrong with whats
going on
I like it when the bassey grooves
are coupled with the strings.
Ibanez to make her dance
got me in a mood
sweet simple sounds
fesh like showered perfumes
aint no way we messing up on
this groovey tune
ibanez to make her dance
played softly in the tune
grainger Sterling Squeir Phatt groovey tunes.

Band

In band you make music not noise
Sometimes you have to be quite poise
The clarinets may squeak 
which will make others freak 
but in band you make music not noise

Twas It a Written

THE FIRST INVOICE
HAD A PURCHASE FOR
12 TRUMPETS
5 TUBAS
10 FRENCH HORNS
7 CLARINETS
10 BASSOONS
8 OBOES
5 FLUTES
4 SNARE DRUMS
2 BASS DRUMS
2 KETTLEDRUMS
15 VIOLENS
5 CHELLO'S
2 TRIANGLES
1 XYLOPHONE
2 BASS GUITARS
2 ACOUSTIC GUITARS

IN THE NOTE AREA WAS A QUOTE
IT SAID
 A HUSBAND MIGHT SIT AND HEAR THE WORDS OF A SINGLE MAN
AND IN HIS WORDS MIGHT SPEAK THRU A CONCERN
OF HIS OWN REFLECTION.
BUT HE ONLY KNOW'S THE SUCCESS OF BEING ACCEPTED IN
PROPOSAL: HE LACKS THE ABILITY TO SPEAK FROM DISPAIR
MIGHT SHE SAY NO, HIS WORDS MEAN KNOWTHING.
IF SHE SAY'S YES HIS WORDS ARE PROVERB AND WORTHY OF SPPEAKING OF.
WHICH LACKS CONCERN IS THE POSITION OF BEING
RIGHT
THAT HE THAT ASK MIGHT BE CONSIDERED WRONG
IF SHE HAS ANOTHER.

My Taste In Music

Clarinets, bassoons, oboes, ugh.
Flutes, oh, yes, Native American flute music please.
Violas. Don’t be prissy!
Cellos. Ha. Ha. Who wants to carry one to school?
First and second violins. Too stringy. Twangy. Hurt my ears.
Trombones and tubas. Oh, yes, please.
Now for my all- time favorites besides the guitar.
Drums
Cymbals.
Bam.
Crash.
Boom
Bam
Give me percussion or do not give me any music at all.

Such and Such a Place

WE KNEAD SUCH & SUCH:
TO COME DOWN HERE
AND SERANDE THESE
DRIFTING LOVERS
MAYBE THE SWEET SOUNDS
OF MUSIC
MIGHT INSPIRE THEM
TO IRON OUT THERE
 DIFFERANCES

BASSOONS
OBOE
FLUTES
DRUMS
GUITERS
KETTLERS
CONGO'S
CLARINETS
VIOLENS
CHELLOS
PIANO
SWEET RANGES OF BACKGROUND SINGERS

SUCH AND SUCH A PLACE
AT SUCH AND SUCH
A TIME
TWO WILLINGFUL LOVERS
WHO LOVE ONE ANOTHER
OOH OOH, OOH
SUCH AND SUCH A PLACE
AND SUCH AND SUCH A TIME
SUCH AND SUCH A PLACE
AND SUCH AND SUCH A TIME!

Encore

Encore

Cold metal touches my lips
Breathe
Fingers extend
Breathe 
Chatter from the audience
Fills my ears
Breathe
Lights from above 
Blind me
Breathe
Baton
Moves up 
Breathe
Up 
Down
Breathe
Tempo
Dit-Dit-Dit
Breathe
Drums sneer at me
Breathe
An explosion 
Of sound 
Fills the ears
Breathe
A harmony
A symphony
Breathe
Tubas 
Low and booming
Breathe
Trombones and Trumpets
Extending each
Note with ethereal beauty
Breathe
Clarinets 
Blessing the note
With delicacy
Breathe
Flutes
An island of paradise
Enters with the grace 
Of a dove
Breathe
Swooning 
At the pitched
Mountain of sound
Breathe
Waves 
Hit the audience
With the delicacy of a mother
Breathe
Enveloping them 
With the evolving mood
Ominous 
To Joyous
Crescendo
Breathe 
Clapping booms
In my ears 
Stamping of feet
Deafening 
Yet craved
Yet beloved
Baton rises
Once more
Once again
Symphony 
Overwhelms 
All thoughts
All emotion
Breathe

Scarlet Breezes By John Lars Zwerenz

SCARLET BREEZES

Scarlet breezes swirl through the square, 
Beckoning us to come
In bright, elysian fare.
A cello and a drum, 
Clarinets and trumpets
Arise and stir and glitter in the fountain, 
Around your sable ringlets, 
In the cloister on the mountain.

There are diamond drops of rain
In your long and raven, perfumed mane.
Let us wander to the amorous refrain
Of violins by the ivory colonnade. 
And there in the somnolent, redolent shade
I shall take your tender, fair, white hands, 
Where only rapturous love commands, 
As we rove among the blooms, 
In the garden by the ocean, 
Reveling in deep emotion
Beneath our gilded palace, 
And its grand, palatial rooms.

And I shall kiss your lovely face, 
In a state of imperial, gracious grace, 
To the chime of harps and wedding strains
Which will emanate from daisies, dahlias and the breeze, 
From the chapels by the rustic lanes, 
Beneath the golden linden trees. 

JOHN LARS ZWERENZ

To Harmonize Within This Dream

To harmonize within this dream

A brazen dance of cornered screams
Along a wafting, winding lane
Where melodies in concert themes
Are more than any can explain

I wander by this sad request
In minor chords and broken strings
As clarinets don’t pass the test
Among so many other things

When from the shadows comes a tune
On paisley painted violin
Now echoes from a crescent moon
Where cellos find a chance to win

My feet they move a city mile
Across the square where banners fly
And I cannot contain my smile 
While rusted church bells sanctify

The streets of rice once thrown in doubt
Form petals on the cobbled ground
Where children run and parents shout
Attempts at drowning out the sound

But I, now charmed and held at bay
Sing loudly over hill and stream
As here my voice shall find its way 
To harmonize within this dream

Just a bit of nonsense

Before the Concert

A cacophony of sounds, all jumbled together
   Random notes, dissonance everywhere

Violin bows saw the air lazily, effortlessly
   Then furiously, chins pressed hard to instruments

Flautists' lips wistfully poised above the holes
   In a flash, diving deep into spritely melodies
 
Trombonists' brass bars sliding outward, then back inward
   Deep tones scale upward, peak, descend again 

Trumpeters' cheeks bulge outward, double-chins aflame
   Beet-red faces, fingers marching, horns tootling

Cymbals clang and clash!  Drums beat and boom!
   Clarinets clamor... A cello... An oboe... The conductor's in slow-mo.

All this, prelude to a performance quite grand
   To the concert forthcoming -- Strike up the band!

Musical Lament

Echoes of a sad lament

Played upon a clarinet

Creating images of strangers on a shore

Images of days of ancient yore.

As I hear the haunting melody

It's echoes resonate in me

Each note seems to echo life

The refrain brings tears to my eyes

And as the tune floats and glides along

Like a spiritual rhythm

I feel the solitude, the bliss

I feel the touch of a farewell kiss

And as the clarinets lament haunts my mind

I get lost in space and time

And I give thanks that I am alive

As the tune echoes universal rhyme

And I know creation causes my energy to thrive

As I look towards the light

This music will always haunt my life.

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