Misusing jargon and
confusing complex words
he became Dabber of idious
right before my face
his voice and online
presence
made him more exceptable to my
belottlings.
Saying I spoke such when I didn't
was fair game in such exchanges as I collected his words
to make him spectacle among his friends.
then might the words be spoken
to ruin what had been said as
queit and strong a type
of presence that ladies loved
and woman adorned.
When he began to speak I found
him vulerable to beleifs and superstitions.
Having music in the background often made it worst
as he then was a charcter
for folk to make a specticle of.
I missed my chello
you look like an talented fella
can I use your
horn
I want you to hear this song
I missed placed the flute
Do you like his suit
the strangs on that chello
are strumming though
The people in music-area
want to compare ya
say it's find
when this was so unkind
Tempo adagio: all ya had to do
was sayt so, could made the beat
more rhythmic by waving
my music stick
I missed placed my Chello
please no a'cappella I wanna
hear some strings
let the music man make
the horns sing
Stresses in the line
where the bass and trembles
meet
Need ah problemsolver
to come and help me
I missed placed my chello
can I use your double bass
to make a pretty song
put ah smile on your face
From
Sono Una Puttana
Ingannero
Quest'uomo
( Human have alway had the Power to create life)
Her part was to be lip synced
with a live orchestra
the music had to be perfect
or the camera would
catch the
offset of audio.
The fella who was producing
the show losted his chello
somewhere B'Tween the
sound area and the theater
making him someone had
moved it.
Raised up gooseflesh dipped in metal,
a shiver runs right down my spine;
Every emotion they enshrine,
somehow the scream helps me settle;
Please hit that double bass pedal,
I’ll throw you a devil horn sign;
Raised up gooseflesh;
They view me as the jezebel,
a black fishnet flavored outline;
With a head bang everything’s fine,
healing factor with no equal;
Raised up gooseflesh.
In a damp, bluesy club in the middle of the reeds
Two amphibious musicians gathered in the weeds
Stringed instruments of driftwood and canary grass
Played with webbed fingers and a dash of southern sass
Two of them will face off to see who would headline
Swamp juice and flies aplenty and the music is divine
Marsh creatures waiting, having a drink on mossy log
While they watched the marsh house band, Bulrush Bog
Tadpoles grooving in the water, afraid of the limelight
Since they are literally spineless, some likely stage fright
Beavers gnawing on wood, carving out a double bass
Muskrats drumming cattails at Animal’s Muppet pace
The music now quiets with the sun as the light goes dim
Fireflies set the mood, drinks filled, lake foam to the brim
Two finalists take stage, Marsh music battle is to start
Yet… they sounded the same, you couldn’t tell them apart
So how do you decide which musical act will take the win
When it’s a toad with a fiddle versus a frog with a violin?
January 23, 2023
The Fiddler and the Frog Contest
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Embracing eyes upon sight
Swirling as a whirlwind
Clasping lips together as one
Hearts in sync as a double bass
A Symphony of Violins
Quivering tones of Love
As Bass Woodwinds
With Sounds of Angels harps
Reaching deep into the soul
Beethoven whispering tunes
In this Theater
of Love
FIT AS A FIDDLE
I used to be fit as a fiddle
When I was in my prime.
I could run the London Marathon
In a perfectly reasonable time.
I would play five sets of tennis,
Then dance throughout the night
And still be at the local gym
Before it was even light.
My body was slim and wiry;
They called me a fitness freak.
And all the prettiest girls in town,
Admired my fine physique.
But all of that was long ago,
These days I’m uninspired.
Just watching the London Marathon,
Leaves me feeling tired.
Yes, I used to fit as a fiddle,
Slim and full of grace.
But now, alas, my figure
Resembles a double-bass
5th August 2022
Simile Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Hilo Poet
You numb my eyes
From tippity-top
To eight count plies
Rhythmic grooves
Crossing hard waxed floors
Bouncing orange orbs denied
Double bass pounding, pounding
In my ears
Heart
Pride
Moving like soft water
Untethered sass
Yesterday’s child
Today a Dancer
Numbing eyes
Your moods are like sounding boards.
You can sound serious or sad like a cello or double bass,
you can sound aggressive or violent like a bass drum,
heavy and repetitive like a marching drum;
but also cheerful and lively like a piano or a tambourine.
It all depends on the wood you are made of,
of the frame and the capacity to vibrate
and the "soul" that supports the weight of the tensioned strings.
Allegro
Crystal decanter, wine in a glass.
Tabletop woodwinds court candlestick brass.
Fine sterling service, stems in a vase.
High-tone enamel meets low double bass.
Pale yellow roses, peaches and grapes.
Clarinet colors tint saxophone shapes.
Citrus in concert, lemon and lime.
Echoes of summer in three-quarter time.
Adagio
There are brazen implications
In these muted, pulsing horns.
The strings are thick and creamy.
The bass line’s strewn with thorns.
Scherzo
Nail-tap percussion, tremolo drill.
Twelve o’clock whistle sounds cranky and shrill.
Shipping yard sunlight, loading dock shade.
Forklift holds pallet in mid-serenade.
Mustard-stained napkin, Styrofoam cup.
Strains of a power saw being tuned up,
Baritone belt sander wailing away.
White glove allegro turned grease monkey gray.
Rondo
Without darkness, there could be no light.
The sun would rise unnoticed.
Without silence, there could be no song
From either bird or locust.
Without winter, there could be no spring.
No flowers for your lover.
Without music, there could be no art.
They flatter one another.
APPASSIONATO
He made overtures to her,
With the time-honoured chat-up line,
“We could make sweet music together;
I want to make you mine.”
She conducted herself quite cautiously;
Remained composed and calm.
A duet might be pleasant;
And he certainly had charm.
But she didn’t want to rush things,
The tempo should be slow.
He wished to proceed allegro,
She favoured adagio.
She played second oboe,
While he was a double bass.
They came from different cultures,
A thing she found hard to embrace.
And so she resisted his overtures,
They really weren’t well-matched.
She had an affaire with a flautist instead;
A thing with no strings attached.
2nd July 2019
Music Theme Contest
Sponsor - Geraldine Taylor
The cello and I
we sustain
in each other
while we play
the melody
The violin caresses
my shoulder while
we execute the work
musical,
the double bass
squeezes
my chest
when together
we are in ensemble ...
With the tambourine, my fingers
and my hands do
frenetic
juggles...
the drums helps me
to beat up my
evils ... and to frighten
my fears...
The harmonica consciously
kiss me, kiss
while we are
on stage...
But it's the fender guitar
that plays me inside
in solo riffs that
inflates my soul
and makes me squirm
on wishes ...
evaporating my suffering,
all while
we fly high
feeling alive in music !
2 Dollar's of Whiskey Bourbon
My sweet Jubilee,
To toast
My throat is drier
Than Country Music Heartache
And tired double bass
In downtown New Orleans's
Backwater Blues
Scratching Cotton field tune's
Backed by Harmonicas and Flutes
Rag Time,
Swing Time
Jazz Time
Line Dancing
Play that Banjo Boy
Like its the 4th of July
Slide your slow hands down
Southern Soul
Put the needle on the Gramophone
Take me Home
Take me back
I yearn to hear the record scratch
1 last time
Before I walk the Green Mile
Dead Man Walking
Glissandos
with a twist of tangy lime
arpeggios
in starched cuffs and gleaming buttons
sparkle from the ivories
of a Baldwin baby grand
leaving the root notes
for the double bass to play
It's honey
in be-bop
pure rich amber honey
with a cinnamon stick
and a drop of syncopation
blending in soft beats
of a hi-hat
gentle brushes on a tom
A second round
of drinks arrives
as conversations hush
and candles flicker
Our new favorite diner
with smooth live jazz
on Wednesdays
Should I get back
To the randomized drum attack
Or what would you let
Me survive and drum
Upon a double bass drum dream
Elegant frequent interludes
Ebony and ivory harmonised
The maestro raises his hands
A single note from a violin
Reverberates the soul within
Piano keys dance the storm
Conductor's baton waves the way
The orchestra now as one
Vibrations pounding in my heart
Sweet cellos and harps sing
Two dueling clarinets take front stage
Silhouetted angels fill the mind
As the beating of timpanis start
A fluttering flute swiftly flies
With dulcet melodies swirling about
A double bass begins the final coda
Then blissfully, I open my eyes
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