Best Guitarists Poems
Every one of my five brothers
and I strive to create harmony.
Our lives are lived in parallel
yet at times we work alone.
Other times we play well together -
unity and coexistence is our goal.
A chord can bring us together
into a rich and soulful harmony.
We often seek concord in parallel
so no one is left alone;
expressive music is our end goal,
a desire shared by six brothers.
Django Reinhardt, who often played alone,
had mastery over all us brothers,
as do Los Romeros playing together,
creating a family of classical harmony.
Andrés Segovia with his ambitious goal,
worked with composer Rodrigo in parallel.
Great rock guitarists with their goal
of playing fantastic music in parallel:
Lennon, McCartney, and Harrison playing together;
the Eagles soaring in amazing harmony;
Clapton; Jimmy Page; the Allman Brothers;
or Hendrix playing incendiary solos alone.
Bring your friends, sisters and brothers
to a concert - don't come alone!
You'll meet people who have parallel
interests to your own. Dance together
as music plays. Our common goal
should be brotherhood and world harmony!
Each string of a guitar, alone
can make a melody. But harmony
exists only by functioning in parallel,
cooperatively. Let this be our goal:
for human beings to work together,
recognizing that we are all brothers.
My brothers and I aren't alone.
In parallel lives, our main goal
is to work together, making harmony.
[Sestina]
// A sestina is a non-rhyming poem consisting of six six-line stanzas and a three-line envoy. The last word of each line in stanza 1 is repeated in all of the following stanzas. The envoy contains all six repeating words. To emphasize the theme of "Six Relatives", I have also made each line exactly 6 words. Additionally, I began stanzas 1-6 with the letters of the six guitar strings: E, A, D, G, B, E. One final note: the "ambitious goal" of Andrés Segovia and Joaquín Rodrigo was to make the guitar a respected instrument in the classical repertoire. They succeeded!//
Written 16 Nov 2020
Spanish guitarists...
Highest evolution, OR
Proof of the divine?
The concept of a top ten, is a wonderful choice
For Joe Flach's contest, your words become your voice
Typically for me, music comes first
Below are my ten, please read and rejoice
In alphabetical order, these ten you may have heard
If you know the tunes, please sing along to the words
If I ever win the lottery, I shall book the Carnegie Hall
And invite all the Soupers to sing and have a ball
AC/DC, from the album "Let There Be Rock"
"Whole Lotta Rosie" with whom Bon Scott defrocked
Black Sabbath, from the album of the same name
Black Sabbath being the track, tolling bells in the falling rain
Deep Purple, with "Made in Japan" from the year 1972
"Smoke on the Water" resonates, Montreaux through and through
Ferry, Bryan, a Geordie, "Another Time, Another Place"
"Smoke Gets In Your Eyes" his voice in wonderful grace
Mellencamp, John Cougar, awesome with "The Golden Jubilee"
"Hot Dogs And Hamburgers" taking an Indian girls liberty
Pink Floyd, with their always inspirational "The Dark Side Of the Moon"
"Time" simply out of this world, eventually where we all go soon
Queen, Rock's Royalty, Queen II is the album for me
"Father to Son" to my father, I have grown up to be like he
Rush, the Canadian three piece, "Moving Pictures" from Toronto they are
"Red Barchetta" of Italian design, a gorgeous sleek sports car
Thin Lizzy, with their 1978 "Live and Dangerous" tour
"Emerald" with Gorham and Robertson, twin guitarists so pure
UFO - with their classic "Strangers in the Night"
"Love To Love" what a ballad, the Rock bands just get them so right
Ethan was determined to be the best,
to put to shame all other guitarists,
to rock the world in tight, leather pants,
touring like a God across the land.
So at thirteen years he learned three chords,
didn’t think he’d really need any more,
then went to play at the school talent show,
his ‘performance’ brought harsh laughter’s blow,
ghe first time he saw people so cruel,
his first taste of that bitter, failure fuel.
But Ethan was no so easily shaken,
and with hard rock he was quite taken,
so he learned the fifths, mastered drop-D,
and practiced the scales ’till it looked easy.
At sixteen he formed a band with friends,
played house parties with the best of them,
then one day a Battle-of-Bands came ’round,
to see who was the very best in town,
but by the cover bands Ethan was schooled,
another hard short that failure fuel.
Still Ethan was not the type to quit,
changed his line-up, new singer and bassist,
after graduation he bought an old van,
he started touring, and building up fans,
his band started being known in night-clubs,
he even stayed clear of the booze and drugs.
So focused were they that a new label
signed then up and paid to make a single,
but it went no higher than number sixty-two,
his best song was nothing but failure fuel...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Doing is knowing,
The sound of music permeates my being,
My flesh longs to dance with the Ravens that speak of freedom,
Maya spoke of the caged bird,
But I say to all birds Fly! to the rhythm of rainbows in sunlit rain,
But I say to all birds Fly! Fly to the strength that comes from your pain,
But I say to all birds Fly! For your beauty transcends that of even the sun,
But I say to all birds Fly! For all battles you fight are already won,
You are wondrous , you are better than sliced bread on Sunday morning with butter after a night spent making love to someone you love,
You are the sound of children singing “this little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine,”
You are the sound of music,
You are the family Vontrap,
And the Nazis can’t reach you as you sing, dance, and laugh,
Consider Stevie Wonder as he sees through eyes of crescendo and melody,
You are life abundant and life abundant awaits you,
Here the sound of music in your very veins,
Here God singing you a new song,
Of revolution, revival, renaissance, and rebirth,
Here God telling you that you are special on this earth,
Sing, dance, to the rhythm of wind chimes that caress you on Mountain tops of weekend ski trips,
It’s all yours,
For all who are thirsty, a holy moment of miraculous too good to be true reckoning awaits you,
Here the sound of your own beautiful breath as you cry tears of joyful appreciation,
Here the thunder scream your praises,
For you are whole and you will be whole,
For you are free and you will be free,
For you are loved and you will be loved,
Shining among the other gleaming notes in God’s glorious symphony,
Rejoice, for you are the sound of gifted guitarists strumming beatles songs in perfect peace,
You are the balance that calls forth the moon at night,
You are the mystery that causes the stars to shine,
You are the spirit that speaks to the creation and causes squirrels to dance with fervor,
And Jesus has you forever,
In the mystery of your glorious story,
Rejoice for you are baptized into the symphony of Beethoven’s Ode to Joy,
And you will live forever!!
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
At dawn stood a maiden quite fair
Crown adorned with Apollo's hair
Bright sunshine
Golden rays paint black silhouettes
While guitarists caress their frets
At sunset
She's trapped herself in these towers
Heart wading in yellow flowers
Sunshowers
Dance across cerulean blue
These orbs oft obscuring the view
Dark sunspots
Bath in potassium rich waves
Shriveling shells that lotion saves
Sour sunlight
----------------------
Lately I've been trying out different forms of poetry.
This is called a Compound Word Verse. You can find out more about it by visiting
Shadow Poetry's site, I'm not sure what PS's policy is on links.
I sit, from Canal to 209 and back
watching the doors open and close.
I see glimpses of Times Square's neon lights, West 4th's man-made green, Columbus Circle's arrows to the park
as the doors open and close.
I hear music, Mexican guitarists, a cappella, a breakdancer's stereo
entering and exiting through the doors. Open and close.
I hear plans for the night, for the next day, for the next week, for later
and the doors open and close.
And I sit, from Canal to 209 and back,
in the city and not,
On a seat that does not question my empty pockets
as my eyes open and close.
A rock and blues guitarist and lyricist and singer,
Whose harmonic music and songs, in environs, linger;
One of the hundred guitarists of all times and seasons,
Clapton's musical art surpasses all human reasons...!
'Yardbirds', 'John Mayall & the Bluesbreakers', and then by himself,
He, like a sage, searched for the real music in itself;
"Layla", "Tears in Heaven", "Change the World", and "My Father's Eyes"
His fame, like heavy rain clouds ready to rain, reached the highs...!
Awardee of eighteen Grammy Awards; (Brits and CBE too),
Like a swan separates water from milk, rhythms he went through;
A three-time inductee to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame,
His art, like free birds, flew beyond every detention frame...!
Any broken string of his guitar, he replaced on stage,
On the broken string or on the guitar he had no rage;
A wounded healer of alcohol and drug addiction,
His guitar, like a doctor, healed him of his self-friction...!
"Sunshine of Your Love", "White Room", "Crossroads", and the great "Goodbye,
Did his music fail to make his fans feel a lullaby?
Researching, as a true scientist, throughout his lifetime,
Eric Patrick Clapton, no doubt, shifted the paradigm...!!!
19 May 2023
Joe Bonamassa and Influencers Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
He was born on a cotton plantation in Itta Bena, Mississippi.
Among rhythm and blues guitarists, he was the best there could be.
Riley B. King came into the world in 1925.
Entertaining as an R & B guitarist, his career would thrive.
While working at a radio station in Memphis, Tennessee,
he earned the nickname "Blues Boy", which was shortened to "BB".
Playing his Gibson guitar named "Lucille", he earned his reputation.
Coming his way were many an award and commendation.
Yes, he was a talented big name entertainer in his day.
Sadly, in 2015 at the age of eighty-nine, he passed away.
I thank wikipedia.org for valuable information I obtained to write this poem
Hot off the heels of Back in Black
A face melting 10 track
From the opening with cannon blast and more
It went to number one, Back in Black only number four
What? You question and rightly so
How did Back in Black peak so low?
Not sure, but none are out done
All AC/DC albums are number one
Even Powerage (the anti-disco disc)
And Flick of the Switch
Will scratch where you itch
(don't scratch the vinyl)
Or Fly on the Wall some say
Doesn't fly the AC/DC way
Hey it's all AC/DC when tracks are laid down
So put it in the 8-track, cassette or CD
into the player and rock your hometown
So when I listen to AC/DC my neighbors do too
All the way through (the mists of time):
For Those About to Rock (We Salute You)
(P.S. Thank you Daniel Mannix for the history of the Coliseum in Rome
AC/DC wouldn't have had the inspiration without reading your tome)
(P.S.S. AC/DC music has spawned more air guitarists
Than any other group or suzerainty or boxcarists)
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.
Frogs, toads, crickets
lizards, cockroaches
rats, owls assembled
in the thick of the night,
with half Angry Moon
as the Choir Master
A thousand melodies,
and a thousand guitarists
but no music came out!
There was I in my early twenties
sitting bored on a Sunday afternoon
mu mum suggested, get a hobby
but being a loner was well out of tune
My mind was blank till mum said
learn guitar, my son, well maybe
so I bought an acoustic guitar
then got lessons to learn my key
As I started learning some real tunes
it seemed I should've begun while a teen
but some progress I was actually making
after a year thought what might have been
So gave it up, wonder why?
probably not dedicated far enough
but now really appreciate class
guitarists playing real splendid stuff
My experiences make one appreciate
the skilful play of these in master class
like Bream, Williams, Romero and the like
inspiration they do bring, pray not to pass
(I recall here my early 20s and making effort to learn guitar which was not to be but learn to appreciate those who could especially in the classical field.)
Harps play of their own accord.
The harpists sit serenly bored.
Guitars gently weep.
The guitarists have all fallen asleep.
Drums boom out in the silence.
Snare and bass burst in violence.
Sing out loud with all your might.
And incite all you meet to fight.