Poems About Guitars Published by Members Recently Online
#guitars
cabcool
Poem Published
29th Sep 2024 4:52am
29th Sep 2024 4:52am
mr guitar man
Notes and chords have become my second language and,
more often than not, that vocabulary expresses what I feel
when language fails me.”—Larry Burkett
his strings have more to say
than his pursed lips ever did
i sit and watch him play,
for the talent that he hid:
superiorer in silence than in sound.
his fingers are his tongue,
and his strings the orator,
whose words are fiercely strung
like a guileless praedator, ...
more often than not, that vocabulary expresses what I feel
when language fails me.”—Larry Burkett
his strings have more to say
than his pursed lips ever did
i sit and watch him play,
for the talent that he hid:
superiorer in silence than in sound.
his fingers are his tongue,
and his strings the orator,
whose words are fiercely strung
like a guileless praedator, ...
#emotional
#emotions
#guitars
#music
#strength
85 reads
2 Comments
cabcool
Poem Published
29th Sep 2024 4:52am
29th Sep 2024 4:52am
mr guitar man
Notes and chords have become my second language and,
more often than not, that vocabulary expresses what I feel
when language fails me.”—Larry Burkett
his strings have more to say
than his pursed lips ever did
i sit and watch him play,
for the talent that he hid:
superiorer in silence than in sound.
his fingers are his tongue,
and his strings the orator,
whose words are fiercely strung
like a guileless praedator, ...
more often than not, that vocabulary expresses what I feel
when language fails me.”—Larry Burkett
his strings have more to say
than his pursed lips ever did
i sit and watch him play,
for the talent that he hid:
superiorer in silence than in sound.
his fingers are his tongue,
and his strings the orator,
whose words are fiercely strung
like a guileless praedator, ...
#emotional
#emotions
#guitars
#music
#strength
85 reads
2 Comments
cabcool
Poem Published
29th Sep 2024 4:52am
29th Sep 2024 4:52am
mr guitar man
Notes and chords have become my second language and,
more often than not, that vocabulary expresses what I feel
when language fails me.”—Larry Burkett
his strings have more to say
than his pursed lips ever did
i sit and watch him play,
for the talent that he hid:
superiorer in silence than in sound.
his fingers are his tongue,
and his strings the orator,
whose words are fiercely strung
like a guileless praedator, ...
more often than not, that vocabulary expresses what I feel
when language fails me.”—Larry Burkett
his strings have more to say
than his pursed lips ever did
i sit and watch him play,
for the talent that he hid:
superiorer in silence than in sound.
his fingers are his tongue,
and his strings the orator,
whose words are fiercely strung
like a guileless praedator, ...
#emotional
#emotions
#guitars
#music
#strength
85 reads
2 Comments
cabcool
Poem Published
29th Sep 2024 4:52am
29th Sep 2024 4:52am
mr guitar man
Notes and chords have become my second language and,
more often than not, that vocabulary expresses what I feel
when language fails me.”—Larry Burkett
his strings have more to say
than his pursed lips ever did
i sit and watch him play,
for the talent that he hid:
superiorer in silence than in sound.
his fingers are his tongue,
and his strings the orator,
whose words are fiercely strung
like a guileless praedator, ...
more often than not, that vocabulary expresses what I feel
when language fails me.”—Larry Burkett
his strings have more to say
than his pursed lips ever did
i sit and watch him play,
for the talent that he hid:
superiorer in silence than in sound.
his fingers are his tongue,
and his strings the orator,
whose words are fiercely strung
like a guileless praedator, ...
#emotional
#emotions
#guitars
#music
#strength
85 reads
2 Comments
cabcool
Poem Published
29th Sep 2024 4:52am
29th Sep 2024 4:52am
mr guitar man
Notes and chords have become my second language and,
more often than not, that vocabulary expresses what I feel
when language fails me.”—Larry Burkett
his strings have more to say
than his pursed lips ever did
i sit and watch him play,
for the talent that he hid:
superiorer in silence than in sound.
his fingers are his tongue,
and his strings the orator,
whose words are fiercely strung
like a guileless praedator, ...
more often than not, that vocabulary expresses what I feel
when language fails me.”—Larry Burkett
his strings have more to say
than his pursed lips ever did
i sit and watch him play,
for the talent that he hid:
superiorer in silence than in sound.
his fingers are his tongue,
and his strings the orator,
whose words are fiercely strung
like a guileless praedator, ...
#emotional
#emotions
#guitars
#music
#strength
85 reads
2 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
8th Jan 2022 11:18am
8th Jan 2022 11:18am
unwritten page
Unwritten page
A blank page on the word processor I ought to leave it this way
just look at it and dream what I could have written.
If I delete the words written, it will be a blank page again.
No history on a crumpled-up sheet of paper in a wastebasket.
For now, it is too late, but I might erase the page written
if I so choose.
All poems are if written with passion, great poems
if not by the readers but by the poet, who boarded the wrong bus
as my wife did in Johannesburg many years ago
great was her consternation when stopping an...
A blank page on the word processor I ought to leave it this way
just look at it and dream what I could have written.
If I delete the words written, it will be a blank page again.
No history on a crumpled-up sheet of paper in a wastebasket.
For now, it is too late, but I might erase the page written
if I so choose.
All poems are if written with passion, great poems
if not by the readers but by the poet, who boarded the wrong bus
as my wife did in Johannesburg many years ago
great was her consternation when stopping an...
#music
#meditation
#passion
#reading
#guitars
472 reads
0 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
8th Jan 2022 11:18am
8th Jan 2022 11:18am
unwritten page
Unwritten page
A blank page on the word processor I ought to leave it this way
just look at it and dream what I could have written.
If I delete the words written, it will be a blank page again.
No history on a crumpled-up sheet of paper in a wastebasket.
For now, it is too late, but I might erase the page written
if I so choose.
All poems are if written with passion, great poems
if not by the readers but by the poet, who boarded the wrong bus
as my wife did in Johannesburg many years ago
great was her consternation when stopping an...
A blank page on the word processor I ought to leave it this way
just look at it and dream what I could have written.
If I delete the words written, it will be a blank page again.
No history on a crumpled-up sheet of paper in a wastebasket.
For now, it is too late, but I might erase the page written
if I so choose.
All poems are if written with passion, great poems
if not by the readers but by the poet, who boarded the wrong bus
as my wife did in Johannesburg many years ago
great was her consternation when stopping an...
#music
#meditation
#passion
#reading
#guitars
472 reads
0 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
8th Jan 2022 11:18am
8th Jan 2022 11:18am
unwritten page
Unwritten page
A blank page on the word processor I ought to leave it this way
just look at it and dream what I could have written.
If I delete the words written, it will be a blank page again.
No history on a crumpled-up sheet of paper in a wastebasket.
For now, it is too late, but I might erase the page written
if I so choose.
All poems are if written with passion, great poems
if not by the readers but by the poet, who boarded the wrong bus
as my wife did in Johannesburg many years ago
great was her consternation when stopping an...
A blank page on the word processor I ought to leave it this way
just look at it and dream what I could have written.
If I delete the words written, it will be a blank page again.
No history on a crumpled-up sheet of paper in a wastebasket.
For now, it is too late, but I might erase the page written
if I so choose.
All poems are if written with passion, great poems
if not by the readers but by the poet, who boarded the wrong bus
as my wife did in Johannesburg many years ago
great was her consternation when stopping an...
#music
#meditation
#passion
#reading
#guitars
472 reads
0 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
8th Jan 2022 11:18am
8th Jan 2022 11:18am
unwritten page
Unwritten page
A blank page on the word processor I ought to leave it this way
just look at it and dream what I could have written.
If I delete the words written, it will be a blank page again.
No history on a crumpled-up sheet of paper in a wastebasket.
For now, it is too late, but I might erase the page written
if I so choose.
All poems are if written with passion, great poems
if not by the readers but by the poet, who boarded the wrong bus
as my wife did in Johannesburg many years ago
great was her consternation when stopping an...
A blank page on the word processor I ought to leave it this way
just look at it and dream what I could have written.
If I delete the words written, it will be a blank page again.
No history on a crumpled-up sheet of paper in a wastebasket.
For now, it is too late, but I might erase the page written
if I so choose.
All poems are if written with passion, great poems
if not by the readers but by the poet, who boarded the wrong bus
as my wife did in Johannesburg many years ago
great was her consternation when stopping an...
#music
#meditation
#passion
#reading
#guitars
472 reads
0 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
8th Jan 2022 11:18am
8th Jan 2022 11:18am
unwritten page
Unwritten page
A blank page on the word processor I ought to leave it this way
just look at it and dream what I could have written.
If I delete the words written, it will be a blank page again.
No history on a crumpled-up sheet of paper in a wastebasket.
For now, it is too late, but I might erase the page written
if I so choose.
All poems are if written with passion, great poems
if not by the readers but by the poet, who boarded the wrong bus
as my wife did in Johannesburg many years ago
great was her consternation when stopping an...
A blank page on the word processor I ought to leave it this way
just look at it and dream what I could have written.
If I delete the words written, it will be a blank page again.
No history on a crumpled-up sheet of paper in a wastebasket.
For now, it is too late, but I might erase the page written
if I so choose.
All poems are if written with passion, great poems
if not by the readers but by the poet, who boarded the wrong bus
as my wife did in Johannesburg many years ago
great was her consternation when stopping an...
#music
#meditation
#passion
#reading
#guitars
472 reads
0 Comments
Duende
Poem Published
3rd Dec 2024 2:00pm
3rd Dec 2024 2:00pm
Guitar Cries
a lonesome night
their guitar cries
cut through my
heart tear me
apart take me
where i need to
be in the core
in that horrible
place where the
demons reside
uncomfortably
they fill the air
taint my space
voices & noises
coming in waves
make me numb
slay me inside
God i am tired
can't even write
i close my eyes
hide in their cries
surrender my body
into the abyss of night
their guitar cries
cut through my
heart tear me
apart take me
where i need to
be in the core
in that horrible
place where the
demons reside
uncomfortably
they fill the air
taint my space
voices & noises
coming in waves
make me numb
slay me inside
God i am tired
can't even write
i close my eyes
hide in their cries
surrender my body
into the abyss of night
#guitars
#night
178 reads
Duende
Poem Published
3rd Dec 2024 2:00pm
3rd Dec 2024 2:00pm
Guitar Cries
a lonesome night
their guitar cries
cut through my
heart tear me
apart take me
where i need to
be in the core
in that horrible
place where the
demons reside
uncomfortably
they fill the air
taint my space
voices & noises
coming in waves
make me numb
slay me inside
God i am tired
can't even write
i close my eyes
hide in their cries
surrender my body
into the abyss of night
their guitar cries
cut through my
heart tear me
apart take me
where i need to
be in the core
in that horrible
place where the
demons reside
uncomfortably
they fill the air
taint my space
voices & noises
coming in waves
make me numb
slay me inside
God i am tired
can't even write
i close my eyes
hide in their cries
surrender my body
into the abyss of night
#guitars
#night
178 reads
DU Poetry : Poems About Guitars Published by Members Recently Online
