Wednesday, July 31, 2013

The Queen by John Zwerenz / Author Bio


THE QUEEN

 

I roved among the fields and furrows.

I was tan in the sun of the golden day.

At the end of my trail, at the edge of the meadows,

I found a blue pond, enclosed with hay.

 

Tall, yellow reeds wavered and swayed,

And perfumed the wafting, summer breeze

Which sailed like honey through the linden trees,

Blessing the courtyard there where I stayed.

 

Suddenly a queen ascended from the rosy bowers,

In a garment made of carmine and glistening white.

Her mane was raven, slender, long and bright,

And her eyes were of a song which poured wine upon the flowers.

 

Her gaze was one of a statues’: deep, dark and grave.

Her lips were of Elysian woods, soft, red and glossy with scent.

I knelt before her, beneath the fronds, green and redolent.

She stood in silence; through her tresses did lave

Blue, caressing gales, which came from the ocean.

We knew naught but ardor and its every emotion,

And the pond was struck with a gust from above.

She took my hand in hers, and accepted my love;

And as if in a dream,

We passed through a curtain, an ethereal light,

By a silver dream,

Beneath the ascending, starry moon,

White,

Full, round and pale,

Which eclipsed the trees, the courts, the lagoon,

Leaving us to the breezy sea,

As we departed from this weary vale-

To a rapturous height of ecstasy.


~ John Lars Zwerenz

                                          PHOTO OF JOHN ZWERENZ: COURTESY OF MICHELLE BRENT 

John Lars Zwerenz (1969-) is an American poet.  He was born and raised in Queens, a suburb of New York City.  Zwerenz is known for his romantic, impressionistic and mystical verse.   His schools include Saint Francis Preparatory High School, and Christ the King High School, both located in Queens, New York.  As a high school student, Zwerenz was known as a kind of drifter, and at this time he discovered the works of Rimbaud, Verlaine, Keats and Byron.   He later attended Queens College of The City University of New York where he earned a Bachelor's Degree in English Letters in 1992.  At the age of 24 Zwerenz left his graduate studies to pursue poetry, travel and adventure. His few attempts at conservative employment were complete failures, due to his bohemian lifestyle and his fondness for alcohol. Zwerenz traveled extensively throughout the United States, and has published 7 books: six books of verse, and one novella.  He wrote most of what he later published on the road in such places as Indiana, California, London and Paris.  All of Zwerenz's books were published at his own expense. He frequently lived in states of abject poverty, and often depended on financial assistance from strangers.    According to his schoolmates and teachers, Zwerenz was fraught with extremities in drama and change and exhibited erratic behavior ever since he was a teenager.  In 2001 he was arrested for trespassing after crossing into Canada without proper credentials.  In 2003 he was hospitalized in Paris, France for symptoms of manic-depressive illness, and his alcohol consumption, for many years prodigious, increased at about this time.  His relationships with women have always been intense and stormy, although he claims to "idolize" women in most of his verse. He is a self-proclaimed Roman Catholic, yet his political views have not been expressed in any public fashion. His verse has been criticized as both "antiquated," and praised as "the best since the death of Robert Frost." Aside from being a writer of poetry and fiction, Zwerenz is also a classical composer, and a rock performer. 

  He currently lives in The United States and works as a journalist in New York City.  He is 44 years of age.

R. Pocelli


     


     




Monday, July 29, 2013

John Lars Zwerenz (1969-) is an American poet.  He was born and raised in Queens, a suburb of New York City.  Zwerenz is known for his romantic and impressionistic verse.  Although still single, he has been engaged three times. His schools include Saint Francis Preparatory High School, and Christ the King High School, both located in Queens, New York. He later attended Queens College of The City University of New York where he earned a Bachelor's Degree in English Letters in 1992.  At the age of 24 Zwerenz left his graduate studies to pursue poetry, travel and adventure.  He has traveled extensively throughout the United States, and has published 7 books: six books of verse, and one novella.   His private life has frequently been fraught with extremities in drama and change.   In 2003 he was hospitalized in Paris, France for symptoms of manic-depressive illness.  His fondness for alcohol was for many years prodigious, and his relationships with women have always been intense and stormy.  Zwerenz currently works as a Journalist in New York City, and is 44 years of age.
Rebecca Porcelli

Friday, July 26, 2013

THE COURTYARD


I am drunk with waves, I am drunk with wine.

I have returned from Spain with gold and gems.

I have found my princess donning diadems,

In the courtyard where the stones meet vine.

 

She wanders as a gypsy in the vast, marble square,

Where slender fountains rise in the cool, spring air.

Her home is up high, behind the terrace of the tower,

Where she sings of fair love to the trees above the bower.

~ John Lars Zwerenz








THE CASTLE


THE CASTLE

 

By bank, stream or river I rove,

With wine in hand upon the fields,

I, drunk with a garden, the fragrances it yields,

Still sing of eternal, infinite love.

 

There is in my jacket a small, blue book

Of lines which I wrought romantically.

Thou art paradise, my lady, with your dark, sable look.

Your gaze is of stars, and of true poetry.

 

I have searched for you incessantly,

In meadows, through woods, in canyons, in caves,

Over harbors and seas, over sailors’ graves,

Until I found you on the balcony.

 

High up, on the terrace of the castle’s tower,

I found you in your long, white dress,

Awaiting my rhyme and the love I profess,

In the still of this majestic hour.

 ~ John Lars Zwerenz





 

Thursday, July 25, 2013

TONIGHT



TONIGHT

 

I shall kiss your lips until your heart is all but wine,

Drunk with rapture, with the taste of kissing mine.

I shall tenderly clasp your raven head,

And I shall love you with fire in the flowerbed.

Our emotions shall be naught but ecstasy, desire.

Ah! Such passion is without attire!

Let your sensuous back recline in the dew,

Into the grass, the blooms of red and blue;

Then I shall enter your spirit’s holy cove,

Where music reigns and angels rove!


~ John Lars Zwerenz    

  

 

 

 


 

SNOW



SNOW

 

December is ending, Christmas is here…

For the old and young, for the boys and girls.

The pine tree, clad with silver balls,

Gleams as music fills the halls.

(Outside the snow swirls

Around the frothy, old pier.)

 

You gaze out the white-encased window,

With your long, black, delicious hair

Braided in an alabaster bow,

As your beauteous body scents with roses

The soft perfume it gently discloses

Throughout the parlor, in the wintry air.

~ John Lars Zwerenz

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

The Countryside / Beneath the Stars / The Queen


THE COUNTRYSIDE

 

We had breakfast in the countryside:

Eggs, bacon and white champagne.

We picked cherries on the dappled lane,

And we walked on the sand, by the turquoise tide.

 

The palm trees scented the soft, summer air

With the fragrant potions of mignonette.

We kissed on the beach, as the sun did set,

Among the fountains, in the marble square.


BENEATH THE STARS

 

I traveled out beneath the stars,

To find some peace beside the lane.

I slept in the glow of a campfire’s bars,

And awoke to the dawn and a fine, light rain.

 

There is in my pocket a notebook I keep.

I wield it when I may,

And write of the many visions I reap,

In the cloudy, rainy, dawning day.


 THE QUEEN

 

I roved among the fields and furrows.

I was tan in the sun of the golden day.

At the end of my trail, at the edge of the meadows,

I found a blue pond, enclosed with hay.

 

Tall, yellow reeds wavered and swayed,

And fragranced the wafting, summer breeze,

Sailing like honey through the linden trees,

Blessing the courtyard there where I stayed.

 

Suddenly a queen ascended from the rosy bowers,

In a garment of carmine and glistening white.

Her mane was raven, slender, long and bright,

And her eyes were of a song which poured wine upon the flowers.

 

Her gaze was one of a statues’: deep, dark and grave.

Her lips were of Elysian woods, soft, red and glossy with scent.

I knelt before her, beneath the fronds, green and redolent.

She stood in silence; through her tresses did lave

Blue, caressing gales, which came from the ocean.

We knew naught but ardor and its every emotion,

And the pond was struck with a gust from above.

She took my hand in hers, and accepted my love;

And as if in a dream,

We passed through a curtain, an ethereal light,

By a silver dream,

Beneath the ascending, starry moon,

White,

Full, round and pale,

Which eclipsed the trees, the courts, the lagoon,

Leaving us to the breezy sea,

As we departed from this weary vale-

To a rapturous height of ecstasy...

~ John Lars Zwerenz