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Poems About: GUITAR

In this page, poems on / about “guitar” are listed.

  • 349.
    Why are kids so noisy!

    Why are kids so noisy
    when we are trying to think

    The strumming of Guitars read more »

    Tracey TEE
  • 350.
    The Guitar-La Guitarra

    The weeping of the guitar
    begins.
    The goblets of dawn
    are smashed. read more »

    Federico García Lorca
  • 351.
    The Song of the Borderguard

    The man with his lion under the shed of wars
    sheds his belief as if he shed tears.
    The sound of words waits -
    a barbarian host at the borderline of sense. read more »

    Robert Duncan
  • 352.
    The Old Guitar

    Neglected now is the old guitar
    And moldering into decay;
    Fretted with many a rift and scar
    That the dull dust hides away, read more »

    James Whitcomb Riley
  • 353.
    A Rockband's First Concert

    cheering, screaming, the crowd goes wild
    we hope they all dont get riled
    walking to the stage our welcome is warm
    but our songs are loud and will kick up a storm read more »

    shaun znideric
  • 354.
    THE FLAMENCO DANCE (Complex Poetic Form)

    In a juerga there's nothing around
    But voices, flamenco guitars,
    Dancing bodies in moonlight,
    Vibrant gypsy dresses, read more »

    Marieta Maglas
  • 355.
    Billy Was A Picker

    Billy was a picker on Saturday nights.
    He’d lose himself in the neon lights.
    He’d travel places he’d never been.
    Even leave his body now and again. read more »

    Gerry Leopard
  • 356.
    Mirror Dreams

    You see you through me every day,
    You see you through me every day,
    Or at least you think you do. read more »

    Stuart Doggett
  • 357.
    The Stage

    The stage is dark
    And from far off, it is vague and most likely void.
    However you stride into the void
    And once in this world of darkness, you make a discovery read more »

    Marles Sonakaid
  • 358.
    The Hidden Heart

    AS I rode out of Lochinvar
    About me all the scene was fair;
    The skies, with not a cloud to mar,
    Were filled with fresh and dewy air, read more »

    Roderic Quinn
  • 359.
    Purpose of the seed

    read more »

    Hamid Arzesh
  • 360.
    My Wife's Only Rival

    I've stood bathed in the limelight,
    Standing listening to the screams.
    My guitar and I soared to the heights,
    Yes I have lived my dreams. read more »

    Juan Olivarez
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