Best Gig Poems
Dizzy cat
Staggers and spins out of reach...
Birdie laughs mocking
Categories:
gig, animals
Form:
Haiku
Les Dewett was a gigilo
Who loved to do it really slow
Though he was well hung
The tip of his tongue
Won their praises for Best of Show
Categories:
gig, lust,
Form:
Limerick
Today is the day of a big fall festival, about twenty miles from here. I have been juried in, and have purchased all the equipment, set up a white tent, and put out my paintings, a few hours ahead, and stayed around for days of waiting. It took a lot of energy, and time, and I did not enjoy it, which is why I only did it twice. Two different shows, both the same year, about four years ago. I sold about eighty-five paintings, and they did not come anywhere near covering the cost of the tent, display pieces, and they did not give me back one ounce of time that I lost. I considered almost every second of tent time “lost time”, unless someone loved my work, which happened only three times in five days of waiting.
This art gig is therapy for me, pure and simple. The best part is, that it keeps me out of stores, buying new stuff – a bunch of junk I get tired of in two or three days, shiny things that will be dumped into a bonfire when I do not use them any longer. I lie. The best part of painting is the pleasure that it gives me. It is the most relaxing hobby I have ever gifted myself. I have mediated, and painting is like that only better, because I get to add color and glitter, and I love seeing my creativity unfold in surprising ways. Since I already own a couple of hundred canvases and the paints, and I just ordered a hundred and fifty new brushes, I might as well do this cheap hobby that I love, right?
I am not tempted to go to the fall festival. I feel the vendor’s pain, but I always try to buy something from each one, so I will not hurt their feelings, and if I keep it up, I will be working until I am ninety.
Categories:
gig, art,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Another Tale Of Musical Madness...
It was in the early seventies...
My friend and rhythm guitar man,
Mark Trotiner, worked in a well
known musician store in NYC...
Another one of those so rare
"light up the room types"-
He played great rhythm guitar,
Couldn't play a lick of lead,
Sang proudly with an awful voice,
Was the arch-typical Hippie of the 70's,
Knew all about music and bands,
Was friend to Frank Zappa,
Blues Project men, had met Jimmy Page
and countless others, the first
of the Greenwich Village Super Hippies
All the bands knew him...
He could charm your socks off...
Swore till the day he dies,
He inspired Mark Knaufler"s
"Money For Nothing"..
And I'd long learned how
to catch a bullshooter in crap...
Listen to his story....
Wait a good amount of time,
Ask him again about it...
See what has changed...
Repeat this process about
Three times,
You're sure to expose the lie,
I did this to him repeatedly
Over the course of years,
And he passed every test...
(that story itself worthy of
a great work...someday soon...)
However, he was the core figure
In the Grateful Dead Cover Band
I was in...with his guitar player friend,
Mark "Bone" Diaz- 6 foot three,
80 pounds, curly red hair tied back...
Greatest musician I ever played with...
And another anxious singer
with no voice...
Well Mark was always meeting
musicians of various levels...
And so charming, so unassuming
he appeared to be...
He had that aura, like cousin Bill
In all my life, those two still..
Stand out with this gift...
Oh, give me a spoonful of that gift...
And what a boost in my life it would lift
Anyway, (and this happened twice...)
Hope I don't get mixed up...
It's like tossin' them ol' dice...
This band, named "Koala"
Early 70's recording band...
Invited us down, based on Mark's word,
To open a set for them..
At their Bond Street Loft...
We wound up there twice...
Were told to bring naught
but our guitars...
Their equiptment world class...
Now I'll compact these 2 stories
To make my point...
We didn't know what we had
stepped into...
Should'a never entered the joint...
First gig, just like the "Big Day Gig",
All other musicians crapped out
on us at the last minute...
And I wound up doing this job
With Billy, Mark T., a drummer,
and me..
Categories:
gig, adventure, devotion, music, natural
Form:
Bio
We're nearing the end of another year
But this one feels different than before
As we mourn our heroines and hero's
Hearts of family and friends are sore
There's Eddy, Pete and Peter Green
They're guitarists in their own way
Lost to the Great Gig in the Sky
Amidst those twenty twenty days
Barbara Martin, Reddy and Tonka
Whom have played to many a crowd
Caressing our ears with their talents
Whether guitaring, or voiced out-loud
Heavens Gate where the Gig is staged
Where Neal and Lee continue their beats
Enjoy life until you're here, engaged!
It's where everyone will have a seat
Categories:
gig, deep, giving, guitar, heaven,
Form:
Rhyme
If you fortune a tangent,
You’ll get a stash,
A rill of crescents pageant,
Old and holding the gash.
Perception not able,
The dynamo dies in the land,
Normal cable to stable,
The bearings of negates and hand.
Piercings whisper through the ears,
Wheat quakes to sliver rum,
Dermis exhalted the overdraft years,
The pollination riffed the drum.
Chrysanthemum sung to oak,
To know the structure is of the silk,
Bacchus architectured folk,
When muscle, mind ruptured n’ did silt.
Categories:
gig, absence, abuse, addiction,
Form:
Quatrain
JOSHUA TREE GIG
My love isn't dead; but it's dying;
I searched for truth and I thought it was you.
When I understood you were lying,
I loved you more, for what good it would do.
My love is the fire of sunrising,
road to L.A. through the Joshua Tree.
My songs are not all that surprising,
each word is you, but they're coming from me.
My love is a hand that is shaking;
locking of eyes so I can't even see.
Your love is my greatest mistaking,
my love is dying, but dead cannot be.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
Categories:
gig, absence, addiction, loneliness, surreal,
Form:
Lyric
Heavens Gate the crowd to be
Blues-ed and Rocked
Lures me
Forgotten cream
Of our Music past
Down on Earth
It will always last
Hendrix, Kossoff guitarists so
Bon Scott, leader we all know
Phil Lynott bassist past
Cozy Powell their memories last
What these guys have left behind
Future players they will find
Its our right what we must do
Portray their sounds to me and you
What they have done
Is the reason why
They now are
The Great Gig in the Sky.
Categories:
gig, inspirational, music, people
Form:
Rhyme
Waiting for a birthing pool
to throw up a dream chaser
nestled in chains.
The grip was easing out
on sun, stung by moon.
Asteroids start hitting again.
The runaway tiger had
turned cannibal, to practice
a new escapology.
A spiral of smoke
rises after the hunt.
You throw the glances back.
Someone will put a knife
in the tulips. Take home
the colours of death.
The celebration starts today.
Children of a bubble have
come out on the road.
Satish Verma
A medieval stone figure of a naked female with the legs apart wide and the hands emphasizing the genitals, found in Britain & Ireland.
Categories:
gig, art,
Form:
ABC
bright colored feathers
dancing romancing red cheer
wig a gig heart big
Categories:
gig, anti bullying, appreciation,
Form:
Haiku
The gig is up, his fine wife said
I know you've been cheating on me
My feelings may not matter to you
but I shall not a laughingstock be
So here are your things, all of your stuff
You're never to come here again
For if you do, the new pit-bull in back
will escort you to his private dungeon
Categories:
dog, farewell, giggle, relationship,
Form:
Light Verse
She went looking for a scare
But what was she gonna wear
A pink tank top
From the discount shop
Was she going to be coming from class?
Frustrated since grades may not pass
Maybe it was the need to be a beauty
From the lone photographer doing their duty
There could be the character worried about the musical score
Forgetting to lock the front door
It says she has too much smarts in the head
This Achilles’ heal could render her dead
All this knowledge
Came from studying books in college
Making her out of touch
During the academic learning watch
Message or mayhem
A question from the one working the pen
A debate that matters
Understood when climbing the model movie making ladder
Playing God or Devil
After being promoted to the next level
Having added responsibilities
Being paid off with more visibility
Lines to recite
Performing choreographed moves during the climatic fight
Is it really the better deal?
To be the shark’s meal
Or the evil’s revenge
Holding the deadly syringe
These are decisions
When contemplating a b role position
Do you want it all up front?
Being the prey in the hunt
Doing what they want
Including risky stunts
Physical attraction
Opening scenes luring attraction
Important factors
For the female working actors
Destined a place on the streaming shelf
A bragging credible image defined as good health
Just important as the big budgeted wealth
When it is written in the script
Her characters basically ends up headed to the crypt
Categories:
gig, beauty, betrayal, cute love,
Form:
Rhyme
There once was a character named Eli
Who really loved the fourth of July
He thought he was a stud
His fireworks were a dud
So he got a new gig and moved to Thai
7-5-19
Alexis Y
* Happy Belated Fourth Of July
Categories:
gig, july,
Form:
Limerick
I first heard of you
In the hot heat of ’88
I was in love
My world full of bliss.
But the love
Died on the vine
And I was lost
And alone but I had
The songs of the
Beehive to protect me.
I’ve been to your city
With my friends
I’ve walked your earth
And yes, it’s my home,
My only home.
I’ve been the lover,
The barbarian
And the moon
All in my short life
On this earth.
I thought the Beehive
Had died
But in ’91
And finally ’96 you finally
Came alive again.
I thank Tracy
And Melissa for
The best music
In the world
And that timeless gig in ’91.
from Her Name is Hope – Life Force
Categories:
gig, life, music, nostalgia,
Form:
Verse
I binge watch t shows
If I like the characters
They become family
I have sat in my recliner for hours
Clicking next episode over and over
This is a new hobby for me
Relaxing in a whole new way
I have no idea how this can be my new life
But retirement is a different gig
I like it
Categories:
gig, retirement,
Form:
Free verse