JAZZWAGS

I
A jazz piccolo
Wreaks havoc with Stockholm’s cool
As it shreds away

 

II
And now a singer
Steps up to chortle ‘Misty’
Oh the irony

‘Don’t know left from right’
Or your … from your ………
‘My hat from my glooooove…’

An aptly named scat
A drowning sound, and tense sway
Where do they teach this?

She’s hogging the stage!
Wants to do another song!
Cry Me A River!

 

III
And now Summertime
Some first draft lyrics appear
‘… the cupboard is high’

 

IV
A rotund mezzo
learns from dots, not the record
Clue?: ‘fish are yumping’

 

V
The armergeddon
Of jam sessions is gestured
With angry Jazz hands

I – Ghost Guest Contribution

If I was a girl
I’d fap myself to death
For Eb over E

II

WAGs the world over
Await your magnum opus
With legs akimbo

III

I thought it was love…
But now I know I was just
The first girl that paid

IV

My! What a large horn!
All the better to bore you,
Darling Valentine.

V

It Don’t Mean A Thing
Each day is Valentine’s Day
How Insensitive

VI

Being a Jazzer’s
Nice work if you can get it
… If… you can get it

VII

You’re not meant to take
Stella By Starlight
So damn literally

VIII

I happened to rhyme
Flutterby with butterfly
He called me a geek!

IX

You say we don’t date,
But I always invite you
To gigs on Facebook

I
Jazz Thanks Haiku

Thank you to my fans
Both of you totally rock
Thank you to the band

Thank you also, Ted
Whose inheritance money
Have kept the band ‘live

To all my teachers
And you, tonight’s audience
Of grim passers by

And last but not least
For just always being there
My love …

my friend Dave

 

II
WAGs at a gig

Wag boob touches Rhodes
the crowd mistake it for jazz
The front row applauds

Dancing at The Con
WAGs shake it like Beyonce
The boys find the ‘one’

 

III

Wailing and squawking
That’s what they mean when they quote
That album Pet Sounds

I
When the midwife came
He’d no idea what to do
Went and bought a reed

 

II
Even in labour
As I was screaming, he quipped:
“Yeah, that’s concert ‘G'”

 

III
Let him talk ’bout jazz
Forget the epidural
That numbs pain just fine

 

IV
Should count my blessings
He knew more about the drugs
Than even I did

 

V
List’ning to him play
The baby gave its first kick
“Mummy, make it stop”

 

VI
Contractions increase
I, in pain, panting; his advice?
“Push! Like it’s top ‘C'”

 

VII
Aah, yes, baby names:
Bird, Dizzy, Monk, Velvet Fog.
No. They sound lovely.

I
Just ‘Here Comes the Bride’
Please! I don’t want modern jazz
On my wedding day

Just the usual band!
‘Come on Eileen’ and ABBA
Not your mates jamming

 

II
I can say “I do!”
No I don’t need the drummer
To give me four in

 

III
Surprise! There’s no ring.
He says I’ll have to make do
With a hula hoop.

 

IV
The church bells ring out,
The congregation silent.
Groom whistles a line.

 

V
How did he propose?
He said he’d marry me for
A lift to Ronnie’s.

 

VI
Groom talks to auntie.
Soon her eyes shut and she snores,
Yet the jazz chat flows.

 

VII
Bride and groom on cake
Bride standing with folded
Groom plays saxophone

 

VIII
He had a great time
Bored the guests with the jazz chat
And then joined the band

* VI, VII & VIII contributions

I
Now, time for the jam
Singer standing, chart in hand
Oh God, please say no

II
Sporting a champ’s gaze
Don’t look so proud of yourself
You just chirp a bit

 

III 
Jazz Singer Haiku Suite
Shall I come in now?
Or shall I come in later?
How do they all know?

What do I do now?
The others are soloing,
But I’m at the front!

Shall I try a scat?
I’m centre of attention,
Swaying awkwardly.

 

IV
Can’t look at the crowd.
Can’t look at the band either.
I’ve fucked all of them.

V
Technique, history,
Theory, scales, musicianship,
All a mystery.

VI*
Epiphany strikes
I sound, on all types of Jazz
Like a drowning boy

VII*
A subtle sax fill
Confuses and angers me
I’m always in tune!

VIII*
I’ve booked the best band,
Someone’s done my charts for me,
Now, which dress to wear?

 

IX
Must never let show
I harbor secret hatred
Of other women…

Smile, be nice, polite.
They’ll never know what it’s like
To be centre stage.

I

This is the new band?
Do you know if they’ve started?
Or just warming up?

II

Where’s the melody?
You know! The bit where they sing!
Is this one just noise?

III

Think I get it now!
Each conversation’s bout jazz,
Each date is a gig.

IV

Still at the same gig;
Just realised I’ve not picked
My nose for a while.

V

Never been so bored.
If only that moth would come
And entertain me.

VI

The kids are starving!
You know, you’d make much more cash
If you just signed on.

VII

First it was Simcock,
Now the pillow talk’s about
Makes of sax cases.

VIII

How high the ocean!
More like “How high’s my husband…
And when drunk he moons”

IX

A third date beckons…
A day of Wine and Roses?
Or another gig?

X

For my birthday he
Played me Lady is a Tramp,
Should I be flattered?

I

No gigs; no Christmas.
My Present is Tea for Two
On bass clarinet

II

On and on ‘bout jazzzzzzzzzzz
He thinks I’m fascinated!
Can’t he see my face?

III

I think he sounds great,
But what do I know ‘bout jazz?
Only got two ears.

IV

Both naked in bed;
Simcock this and Simcock that…
‘Least one of us came.

V

Whose girlfriend are you?
What kind of jazz do you like?
Same answer for both.

VI

Romantic dinner;
Conversation turns to jazz.
Oh look! There’s a moth!

VII

The kids whine, “Where’s dad?”
“’d Be So Nice To Come Home To”!!
Yeah!!? Well You Needn’t!

VIII

“Wish I could see you…”
“But tonight’s gig’s not great, love…”
“…Didn’t mean the gig…”

IX

That was our first date:
He joined the band for a shred,
I learned the menu.