Clefs Poems | Examples

Decibel- who wrote the ah-ooh-ah's

puzzled what to say
things aint going the way
the strings are supossed to be here
the strings should be here
there they are ,there they are
it needs something else
how you'd like being by yourself
there it is

hmmmmmm
ooh
ooh
the way it needs to be
got me feeling thangs
maybe it's the strangs
I like the way the basy groove is
that's the way it's gotta be
"le corna cornee" (kiss-kiss) marvelous
like it when they do that there

put it on
take it off
make it hard
it's way to soft
put itin
grind it down
you got get down
you gotta get down
it's the groove to make you move
it's that doubt that makes you shout
get in line
there's a doo-wee-doo thang
going on right here
ooh
I just wanna say
before you have it your way
I like it this way
you did all this for me
-------------------------------------------
dah- bow we bow why
stanza behind the clefs
you are
you are
whoomp;whoomp;whoomp
dah- yo doo we ah ooh ah
say that we ah-ooh ah
dah-say we
ah-ooh-ah
ooh ah-!
ooh-ah!
Whoomp;whoomp;whoomp;whoomp!

Black Narcissus

Staring at her reflection in
ocular mirrors, learning my
last blessings, creeping past
poltergeists during marauder
inspections while I transcribe
her flesh on caesura, pleading
with the Pleiades for soprano
notes to stay on his alto clefs,
hanging gardens in her image

Obambulate mistress, with
Black Narcissus as my witness
Extravagant solivagant born
from river spirits, lascivious
nymphs want to hear their
voice echo in mountain cliffs
carried by arid winds to the
place the gods’ garments
ripped, convicting her Prince

What Makes My Soul Roar

NOT BASELESS IS 

Not baseless is the ocean’s roar, the build up to that bass before 
it all comes crashing into shore, foaming it draws back for more
I’m sure that there are high notes too, perhaps too high for our purview
but to the sound of rock and roll, I find that sea has taken soul

By Aaron Davis 

Not voiceless is the ocean's roar, crescendo notes rise off the floor  
it all comes waving on the shore, rising up to meet me at the door   
I'm sure that there are treble clefs and flats but heh! what I adore,  
is when Maestro strikes a pose, it makes my soul, begin to roar. 

By Mystic Rose

The Fudge

abecedarian poem
The fudge! The fudge!
 A mnemonic device
some good acronyms to
 remember for the clefs
Early: Gregarious:Blissfull Days Fatuous
Equivocate Garrulous Bouis Dampen Fervor
Egotistical Gaffe Balafon De-esser Fortissimo
abstract or impersonal information Vandoren
spoke the reed-member.
The fudge: the fudge 'The fudge!
Lady what are you talking about:
I hunger; in deeds I do!
egg;grits;bacon;Daikon: Fudge!
The fudge! the Fudge The Fudge!
Exotic:Gracful:Boxum:Devotion: Flirtatious
These are some acronyms!
Eating Green Bok choy Discorages Farts
eating feta bought Dence farts
 Electronic Drums: Ground :Bees: disperse: Fiddlers
Eager: Gizzers:Bizzentine's:Dungeoneers:Fancy
Eager:Glammers:Bet:Down:Folly
Either:Gerund,Beat;Dark-match: first
Every:Grappler:Brings:Dirty-finsh:
Edakka.Gandingan,Bassoon:didgeridoo:Flageolet!

Sleep When Im Awake

Sometimes the dreams are better than being awake, yet even when im sleep, from you I never get a break.
At least in my dreams I could believe it's true knowing damn well this isn't you and whats before my eyes is fake.
yet every details precise as my mind our futures gliding through and when I wake its like someone hit the brakes...
She leaves not talking rake, just to realize I was only being teased and whats next is a sharp pain in my chest as if that of a stake.
She seems to know me best I profess but that parts the most detrimental mistake.
 in turn I like every other woman less as my mind you caress, to you id hand it over but she left so now with her its my mind that she takes.
The only thing I cling to are treble clefs and probably will till my dying breathe, sometimes dreams are better than being awake...

Vivacissimo

Vivacissimo


guitar
sitting unplayed, unlearned
beside its counterparts:
piano, saxophone, koto,
soon to be joined by a banjo

a silent quintet
untouched, unheard

why do I not put my hand to them
why do they sit in this orchestral mausoleum

is it because there is no music
within me,
no euphony bursting from inside
that must find expression
in the movements of my fingers

is it that I fear
untamed chords and notes
will come of the tumult
of my mind,
cacophonous sharps and flats
that refuse lyrical composition

and what if
the clefs line up and Aeodean
beauty and grace emerge instead,
flying from me in a frenzied vivacissimo

how much more frightening
is beauty than silence

Atlantic Cogitations

The Atlantic and her hissing,
Puncturing beyond ears to listen,
Her roar awakens creativity,
Her mind opens all activity
She births knowledge

The Atlantic and her known song,
Cascades ledgers and clefs;
She rises deeply with her surge,
With echoes unending as she hit shores
Her tuneful melody welcomes gaiety

The Atlantic and her ravishing view,
Revealing truth beyond sight
Her edges are borderless
Her curve is endless
She is life in its entirety

Grace and Solitude

Hovering hemispheres habitual harmonics, symmetrical solitudes in their Sonics,
Mastering melodies with mnemonics, amidst approbation of acoustical avionics…
Stellar symphonies sailing Celestial Seas, applauding Angels aerially appease,
Birds belting songs on tranquil trees, botanical gardens blooming in the breeze;

Superstrings romantically resonate, virtuous vibrations valiant as they create,
Overtures upon oblivions do ornate, spheres of distortions align and allocate…
Orchestral opus overruns the trance, magical melodic maneuvers enhance,
Treble and bass clefs prepare to dance, elocution of their eternal expanse;

The Earth hums within rotation, subsonic frequencies of ethereal elation,
The masses are minstrels of celebration, titillating tunes of temptation…
Solitude's surrender thru strident skies, music awakens deep dormant eyes,
The wings of a butterfly take us to new highs, ambient assonance to arise.






April.23.2020
Grace and Solitude 
Sponsored by~John Hamilton

Placed 3'rd...Thank You

A View of the Vineyard

The chartreuse pearls hung on the pregnant vine
as whispered jade of leaves in autumn breeze.
The necklaces of trellis did entwine
like clefs of absinthe notes in verdant keys.

3/5/18

Original poem:  Grape Harvest
10/20/17

Rithium Divisa 2 Contest
Sponsor:  Gregory R Barden

Transcending Talent

Music touches the human soul;
conveying emotions through sound.
Vibes penetrate the subconscious,
fueling fragmented feelings.

As bodies sway to its tempo,
music touches the human soul.
And we dance, experiencing
a high only it can provide.

As subtle as a tranquil sea;
or a wave, loud and expressive.
Music touches the human soul;
transcending talent and technique.

Sharps and flats add a rhythmic voice;
to this universal language.
And arranged by cords, clefs, and keys,
music touches the human soul.

Her Musical Butterflies of Love

Butterflies of quavers and trebles and clefs, 
Flutter all over her breast,
Creating a gentle, melodious hum, 
Whenever she’s completely undressed,

Filling the room with a shade of her soul, 
Becoming a beautiful dance,
A dance that sways and floats and wafts, 
Seducing me in a love trance,

As her finger nails shine, painted in black, 
Wash her lips in dark red,
And the words to her music talk to my heart, 
Pulling me onto her bed,

Where we continue to tango in a Latin of lust, 
Dancing every single desire,
Throughout the dark night, in a passion of love, 
Our passionate love burning fire.

Grape Harvest

The chartreuse pearls hung on the pregnant vine
as whispered jade of leaves in autumn breeze.
The necklaces of trellis did entwine
like clefs of absinthe notes in verdant keys.

Limes envied grapes reflecting fervent sun,
bright clusters for musicians then to splay
in shamrock fields with fables to be spun
of emeralds and pears in harvest play.

Cerulean spread 'cross effulgent sky
when came the time for plucking of the harp.
Lithe fingers did each picker then apply
and place with grace refrains upon the tarp.

In peridot the countryside rejoiced
while to reprise fruition gave a voice.

Black and White

Word count
Quite clear
Black  white
Eight eight
Two hands
key play
Grand scale.

Staff, Clefs
Pitch, trills,
Sharp, flat
Tone up
Tone down
Hum, sing,
song bird.

Key board
Black, white,
No gray,
No shades
New heights,
Loud, soft,
Light, dark.

Love, life,
Birth, death,
Start, end,
Play on .

Eternal Spring Collaboration

The longest shadows start and end the day
like thoughts that creep from embryo to grave
so here within the midday sun we pray
to not be where the shadows misbehave.

But even in the bliss of summer highs,
bold thunder clouds roll in to snap and sneer.
When daunting lightning fractures purple skies,
its striking beauty slays instinctive fear.

A child has dreams of what life may become,
as elders wish they'd captured all those dreams,
but in the midst of life we all succumb
to fate and its bizarre unwritten schemes.

Yet in the face of unexpected pain,
we have the strength to confiscate the quill,
to change the tune of fate's unsung refrain.
Then, from our daring hearts, the ink will spill.

It drips on clefs that show us what to sing:
a world of notes that paint eternal spring.


This is a heroic sonnet that I wrote with Craig Cornish, one of my favourite gents here on PS!
I wrote verses 2&4 and line 2 of the couplet
Craig wrote verses 1&3 and the first line of the couplet

The Happy Sound of Yamaha

His piano is not played often
as yesterday was, and when it does, the happy sound of Yamaha
lets him enter a fascinating world made up of time clefs, of notes
and chords that imagination 
creates on instant thought...
while he contemplates Nature!


If his body is old, his spirit is young
and it can go on until those weary fingers
won't or can't play anymore;
and doesn't desire palpitate in his anxious heart...
leading it where it wants to go as an eagle soaring
past the hills of a radiant sunrise?


On February the sixth, another year will be added
to the calendar of that man engulfed by loneliness,
but he despairs not when he plays his piano
that soothes his pain, comforting him with hope,
allowing his senses to invigorate as morning 
greets the happy sound of Yamaha!

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