Guitar Poems

Do you remember an Inn,
Miranda?
Do you remember an Inn?
And the tedding and the spreading
...

I was hoping to be happy by seventeen.
School was a sharp check mark in the roll book,
An obnoxious tuba playing at noon because our team
Was going to win at night. The teachers were
...

Well, my daddy left home when I was three,
and he didn't leave much to Ma and me,
just this old guitar and a bottle of booze.
...

She has laughed as softly as if she sighed,
She has counted six, and over,
Of a purse well filled, and a heart well tried -
Oh, each a worthy lover!
...

When I close a book
I open life.
I hear
faltering cries
...

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
...

Last night I went to bed at eleven
And dreamed I went to Poetry Heaven.
Keeper of the Gate was not Saint Peter
But Robert Frost - - hey, what could be sweeter?
...

Pelican blues, jay walking on velvet souls
Somber and detach, mayhem
Pickering the night of pre dawn
The choir of your anger, screaming
...

March days return with their covert light,
and huge fish swim through the sky,
vague earthly vapours progress in secret,
things slip to silence one by one.
...

When I die
I don't care what happens to my body
throw ashes in the air, scatter 'em in East River
bury an urn in Elizabeth New Jersey, B'nai Israel Cemetery
...

Once a great guitar contortionist
alluded to the Axis
He provided peculiar clues
to a mystery that still hadn't been solved
...

Young and tender – like a green coconut with sweet juices
Soft skin – as soft as an infant
Red blushes face – as red as the ‘Red Sun’
Sweet voice – like a hungry Dolphin echo
...

A car is a car
If it can ride you nearby or far

A car is a car
...

I work all day,
Said Simple John,
Myself a house to buy.
I work all day,
...

It seems someone has cast a dark net
And the town has become a trout caught in that net;
It seems no morning has ever approached here, -
The town has sub-merged in an over-flowing darkness.
...

I fell out of love: that’s our story’s dull ending,
as flat as life is, as dull as the grave.
Excuse me-I’ll break off the string of this love song
and smash the guitar. We have nothing to save.
...

I woo'd a woman once,
But she was sharper than an eastern wind.
Tennyson
...

1/
Genius is not a generous thing
In return it charges more interest than any amount of royalties can cover
And it resents fame
...

He's just
Any old man
In any old bar
With a guitar
...

Every morning in the deep woods of the concrete jungle
With my near and dear ones I sing a coarse musical,
Humans raise from their good night sleep with a frown of unpalatable
They call me ‘Crow’ and express their acerbity with a scowl,
...

Cradle
A baby is a precious thing,
A guitar cannot sit up on its own,
Just like a baby you have to cradle a guitar in your arm,
...

Don't buy your boy a gun
Buy him instead a guitar,
Then creative will be your son
In life he'll have a better chance of going far.
...

A lone guitar plays at midnight,
giving out a million sweet tunes,
Soft notes, rising like the sun at dawn,
From behind the blue mountains,
...

I am artist jrain.., , , ,
my friends know me as an erotic artist,
I​ ​love guitar,
I am passion about my guitar.
...

Day #9: Grand Canyon to Williams Arizona (p.m.)

The East Entrance to the Canyon had always been my least favorite way to enter the Park. I usually arrived by the elevated and back canyon road from Flagstaff known as Arizona Rt.# 64. Alpine and rural, it was more than a mile up in the clouds. Today though, I had no other choice and would enter the park from the lowest depths of a barren landscape. It was dusty and hot (106') when I passed the old Cameron Trading Post just before the Park's entrance. I turned onto the park road and looked high up into the distance before me. The greatest sight visible anywhere on earth, and the standard bearer of all God's creation, was just beyond my reach — but it wouldn't be for long!
...

But your guitar,
You standing in a pose and posture
Making you an icon.
A guitarist,
...

CROSSROAD
(MISSISSIPI,1938)
Play me some chords, my man, play me some chords!
Tell my friend, Willie Brown, / Lawd, I'm standin‘ at d' Crossroad, babe, /
...

As a gift I got a guitar.
So I started to learn to play,
Dreaming I'd be a movie star.
But this guitar had a weird way
...

The other day I wrote a poem after being surprised to meet……
as I began my morning walk…a guitar stain in the street.

Well, it appears looking that a stain in the street is similar to looking at the clouds…
...

Take you the guitar and sing you,
Hare Rama, hare Krishna,
Hare Rama, hare Krishna,
Rama-Rama, Krishna-Krishna,
...