Best Instruments Poems
If languages were instruments,
English, the language of my own America,
Would be something like a piano.
Each word is clear and sharp-
When we sing, the note does not waver.
But I suppose it's more fair to say that
English is something like an electronic keyboard
With two hundred different modes because English
Has so many different versions,
Adaptations of other instruments,
Emulations, or imitations, however you want
To think of it; there is no accent that cannot
Be reconfigured to be
Played on keys in distinct shades
Of black or white.
Arabic though...
Arabic is more like a violin.
The sound of Arabic
Flies up and down the scale
In deliciously smooth legato,
Stopping to linger on vibrato;
Poignant
A is for Accordion, squeezing air with bellows
B is for Banjo, five strings plucked by bluegrass fellows
C is for Clavichord, keyboard with a metal sound
D is for the Drums which percussionists will pro-pound
E is for the English horn, using a double-reed
F is for a brass French horn, three valves is all you need
G is for Glockenspiel, metal bars arranged in rows
H is for Harmonica, both in and out she blows
I is for Ingoma, on which skins or hides are drummed
J is for Jinghu, just two strings that are bowed not strummed
K is for the Keytar, keyboard guitar held upright
L is for the Laser harp which plays on beams of light
M is for Maracas, their rhythm shaken by pros
N is for Nguru, Maori flute blown through the nose
O is for the Oboe with a mouth-piece that looks bewitched
P is for the Piccolo, a half-sized flute, high pitched
Q is for the Quena, a notched flute from the Andes
R is for the Rattle, maracas for the babies
S is for the Shofar, a Jewish horn hard to blow
T is for the Tuba, largest horn and tough to tow.
U is Ukulele, four-string Hawaiian gee-tar
V is Viola, a fiddle tuned a bit deeper
W is the Washboard, just for rhythm, understood?
X is a Xylophone, a glockenspiel made of wood
Y is Yotar, a guitar with four strings grouped in threes
Z is Zither, played on the table or cross your knees
This alphabet of instruments just breaks through the top
The're hundreds more to know, but Z's a good place to stop.
March 11, 2013
Allright Poet's ABC Poetry Contest
Hands of the piety
Phalanges of work and charity
Driven to spearhead not stoop
Enliven and share not droop
Fingers we dip on stoupe
Churches of the holy in troop
Our faith we lathe with pride
Strongly we hold not stride
Images we fond and draw
Murals we touch like straw
Gentleness in open hands we pave
Roughness in helping hands we stave
Our works and thoughts are one
Over thorns and bouts of man
Skins and colors of faith
Fins and winged colors of the laith
You are a work of art
Embellished with paints of heart
Filled with a well of hope
Influx of worth in the hull of rope
Ropes are extensions of hope that purport
Strengthened by faith and hands of support
October is Pastor Appreciation Month. So here is a poem I am writing for my pastor, Jeff Davenport of Calvary Baptist Church in Covington, KY
INSTRUMENTS OF GOD
It is the mouth that speaks the truth
From the pulpit ev'ry week.
It delivers words of wisdom
That all his followers seek.
They are the hands that raise God's word
Up high for all to see
As he brings us ev'ry sermon
And leads the victory.
They are the feet that walk the path
Of righteousness and grace
As he goes out to all the world,
Each big and tiny place.
It is the heart that answered when
A call from God went out.
He decided he would follow
And did without a doubt.
They are the eyes that see a need,
The heart that wants to help.
It is the mind that puts God first.
Oh yes, above all else.
These are the instruments of God.
He uses ev'ry one
To introduce the lonely, lost
To Jesus Christ, His Son.
He uses all these instruments
To make a lovely tune
So all of those who hear it may
Come running to Him soon.
I thank God for my pastor, yes,
He is so dear to me.
There'll never be another one
That's quite like him, you see.
Guitar
Acoustic, Electric
Strumming, Resonating, Soloing
Modern, Popular, Antique, Anachronism
Plucking, Projecting, Accompanying
Medieval, Baroque
Lute
an instrument can be defined
as a device that produces musical sound
or it may be a tool for making things
perfectly round
you can strum an instrument
and maybe play a tune
you can use an instrument
to measure the size of a room
people playing instruments
can often be called a band
an instrument can be anything useful
you can hold in your hand
an inventor can be an instrument
with ideals, gadgets and plans
a soldier can be an instrument
with our safety in his hands
a lawman can be an instrument
doing the best he can
a priest can be an instrument
calling God’s Almighty hand
the president is an instrument
with powers for wise use
a journalist like a prophet
telling the unpopular truth
a revolutionist taking control
of uncontrollable youth
an instrument can be a device
that can produce or be misused
Moses and Lincoln were instruments
used to set slaves free
Washington, Jefferson and Franklin
instruments used to make our country
Plato, Socrates and Aristotle
instruments of philosophy
Frost, Dickenson and Whitman instruments
for writing poetry
Patton, McCarthy, Westmoreland
instruments of war
Columbus, Desoto, Armstrong
instruments to explore
Marie Currie, Jonas Salk
instruments to find cures
Abraham, Moses and Jesus instruments
of Gods holy plan
The Holy land of Israel
the instrument of the end
Across the globe, music ascends—a universal zephyr,
Bridging cultures in harmonious yearning;
Chords converge from Andes to the Zangezur, xenharmonic,
Dulcet tones of a duduk—in the air, they whisper.
Every note—an echo of humanity's vibration,
From flamenco's fire to the finesse of a cello's undulation;
Gamelan's gongs—a gamut of sounds' timbre,
Harmonium's hum—hearts and spirits, it serenades.
In India where the sitar intricately resonates
Juxtaposed with jazz as New Orleans quavers;
Kora's strings kiss the breeze as Africa pulses.
Lyrics leap across lands—in mosaic form, it oscillates.
Marimba's mallets are on wooden keys lightly narrate
Ney's notes always navigate in a trance-like murmur;
Oud's ornate voice offers a limericking lyric
Perhaps to partake in profound kinetic kinesis.
Qanun quietly queries—a quivering jumping jubilation
Rhythms resonate—a restorative impressive intonation;
Samba's syncopation—a spirited harking harmony
Tabla's tempo—a testament of gripping grandiloquence.
Uilleann pipes uplift with urgent a fever for fervor
Violins voice the vibrancy of the endless echo;
Whistles and winds—the world's diverse diapason
Xylophone's xylography—a cross-cultural cadence.
Yodeling yonder in the Alps' billowing bellow
Zither's zephyrs—a zenith we accentuate and attune.
I recite your name in the whispers of the wind
for bonded to my heart are you until the end
I lifted the chalice drank deeply of its wine
I felt of its effects the fullness of divine
Like the chords of piano and dulcimers delight
your melodies do waft through every thought at night
a master plays the chords a violin with strings
plays my heart like a harp whose music on it rings
Your fingers play me like the stroke of piano keys
every touch I enjoy your heart it aims to please
you are a symphony whose chords have touched my heart
a birth cries transmission of transformation every part
Songs like an aria may yet I learn to sing
whose vocals resonate the inmost of my being
You left no line untouched no strand is mine alone
made sure you did I knew would make you me your own
Somewhere I lost myself I gave it all to you
things I don't understand reasons appear askew
I inhale you my breathe to deepest parts within
need you to embrace me as close as your own skin
We retire together speak 'neath the baleful skies
of every trial in life and those who live in lies
greet me in the morning curl around me at night
sing to me of love songs of futures very bright
The wedding of my heart tears away my mind
I want to forever hold you for all of time
Are not your words a bath that removes the worlds dirt
a balm of medicine to heal the deepest hurt
Its surpassing sweetness a palate of good taste
love so intoxicating no drop will go to waste
the adversary's here and tramples the flowers
but you oh my beloved too freely roam my hours
My life is but a breath an instrument of song
music tells the stories of lives and right and wrong
The scent of yesterdays the pathways of the past
forward now the future into the everlast
Proverbs 16
24 Gracious words are a honeycomb,
sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.
COPYRIGHT © 2013 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Isaac Albéniz's Asturias, Three Versions, Three Instruments
I
By Andres SEGOVIA, guitar, 2006
Man lopes up mast-pole
Man lopes up mast-pole
Man lopes up mast-pole
And finds no maiden fair
Who mimes his Asturian air
II
By Andronicus, piano version
Man bikes up mountain
Man bikes up mountain
Man bikes up mountain
And espies masts far from there
Biscay Basques back with wares rare
III
By Florin Croitoru, violin-solo
Man runs up belfry
Man runs up belfry
Man runs up belfry
To count sinners in every square
Come to keep their bosoms bare
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2018
Knife and pen, both should be warned,
Tools of deed and death,
Heart and life, they were scavenged,
By any means, please keep your faith,
Perhaps, you can dream like Creath.
Don’t you love this
Beautiful mix
Beautiful strings of soul
Beautiful melody
Lively lyrics
With freedom, flowing
Fluently,
But not just for show
Oh no
As the violin
Rests between
Certain notes
and the lyrical maestro
Pauses
Drawing
Quick breaths
During stage time
In time
In between lines
Myself, I remind
That everything with breath
Ought give praise
Don’t you love this
God’s instruments
Letting His praises ring
The violinist,
A vessel
Strumming the melodious strings
Making way to their singings
Singing sensations
To God, so sensational
This I know
As I project
His praises
Through my style
Of words and phrases, freely
I’m never to forget
What He’s done for me
I’m never to forget
A cross, the cross
At Calvary
Where life began
Again
When I chose to
Receive
That’s why I love this
Lifting up the name,
Of Jesus
How great thou art
Instruments of praise
We are
Yes, yes
Instruments of praise, we are
In our minds
In our hearts
Instruments of praise we are
Even as we,
Snap our fingers
Clap our hands
We give glory
To His creation
As only His creation can
dazzling sun
sacred earth
orange moon
chromatic sky
we
are the
instruments of God
Metronome heart beats in 4/4 time while mandolin chimes in staccato voice. In the background, guitar hums and banjo sings. Bluegrass echoes across southern winds; blues and mountain music force a dance from tranquil feet; it’s a concert fit for country royalty, at the Opry. The East coast clogs and smiles.
On the rolling winds,
Echo strains of the southland;
Gaia’s toe tapping.
*Image of People of the Dawn by Pixabay.
Instruments of Mercy
Amidst the wailing whiplashed 'neath a moonlit plight,
Against the cowered beast of demons gnashing white,
Angst men in their temporary shanties walled bubbles,
Atheist fated them to wile their skill with steel shovels,
Apologist to the bitter end proves it's never supported,
Absolutist self-denial raw display ne'er to be thwarted,
Awarest who'd weathered the conviction of strong will,
Awkwardest fretted near sunk rocks, lost eyes wet still,
Aptest met their latest neighbor, old-timers now closer,
Antichrist organized bits of their faith sitting as a poser.
2022 January 22
I hated those instruments
with them I could not concentrate
upon them I blamed every
painful mistake.
I hated those instruments
that took away my breath
and making me cry
and then my heart bled
because I grew jealous
of people who could make beautiful sounds
I tried just a little
but left the instruments on the ground
I cursed those instruments
I think it was true hate
but I with envy, oh
utter distaste.
I feel a tinge of guilt.