Best Mandolins Poems
Oh captcha squares, oh captcha squares
What are these objects in your frames?
Oh captcha squares, oh captcha squares
Why must they gotta be the same?
Cars and busses, traffic lights
Bicycles and motor bikes
Crosswalks, signs, and steps and stairs
Fire hydrants everywhere
Boats, planes and parking meters
Tickets, fines, misdemeanors
Why are you so fond of these?
Why are palms the only trees?
Oh captcha squares, oh captcha squares
The pictures trapped inside of there
Oh captcha squares, oh captcha squares
Depict a world so bleak and bare
Arid, bland, unaesthetic
Barren, drab, unpoetic
Sterile, cold, antiseptic
Unconcerned, apathetic
Somber, sad, and desolate
Woeful, bland, pedestrian
Weary, grim, dreary, hopeless
Grainy, gray, out of focus
It doesn’t need to be this way…
Many things could fill your squares
Why not fill these things in there?
Tambourines and castanets
Bass trombones and clarinets
English horns and piccolos
Harpsichords and xylophones
Fiddles high and Irish whistles
Jingle bells and finger cymbals
5-string banjos, mandolins
Saxophones, accordions
Desmond Tutu and Mandela
Cassius Clay, Cinderella
Charlemagne and Genghis Kahn
George and Ringo, Paul, and John
Twain and Edgar Allan Poe
Wayne and Brando and Monroe
Ida Wells, Frida Kahlo
Steinem, Parks, and Ferraro
River Thames and stormy seas
Winter wrens and bumble bees
Cyprus, ash, oak, fir, and pine
Sassafras, willow, and lime
Daffodils and magnolias
Marigolds and begonias
Cabbage, beets, and potatoes
Carrots, beans, and tomatoes
Oh Captcha Squares, Oh Captcha Squares
If your pictures must remain
Oh Captcha Squares, Oh Captcha Squares
How aboutcha change the frames?
Captcha circles, captcha suns
All the captcha olygons
Wiggly captcha twiggly lines
Twisty captcha twiny vines
Captcha diamonds, captcha hearts
Captcha clovers, moons, and stars
Captcha ribbons, Captcha lace
Captcha colored string bouquets
Oh Captcha Squares, Oh Captcha Squares
We understand you're here to stay.
Oh Captcha Squares, Oh Captcha Squares
Just be more creative, OK?
Categories:
mandolins, funny, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
The sound of baroque fills the air
the lively beats one can hear
as senses reel to music sweet
elves dance upon imaginary leaves .
The orchestra reaches crescendo
shattering crystals of chandeliers on high
staccatto beats .....the doe skids across the icy field
as snow cascade down from cypress trees.
Violins squeak ...Trombones blare
mandolins vibrate the inner ear.
The harp thrills......soft ripples along the narrow stream,
fish jumping into sunbeams.
Cymbals clash , a metallic crash...splintered timbers caught in lightening flash
A silent throb...the music dims... a cool beeze flows over the hills
soothing, drawing all into a warm embrace
calming the spirit , slowing the pace.
The music wanes...... delicate snowflakes stuck to window panes
A Grand finale......twitching nerves that long for solace.
Silence now as the music stops.
Peace follows music sweet.... into dreams.
Baroque music lives on....do not weep.
Sleep now ....sleep.
Categories:
mandolins, music, music, music,
Form:
Rhyme
In the evening looking out my back door
The magic begins
Can you feel the adrenaline?
Spider woman is weaving dream catchers to lore.
Fairies are dancing like their ancestors did before.
The elves are sweetly playing their mandolins.
In the evening looking out my back door
The magic begins
It's not on some distant shore
It's within
My neighbors field called paladin
Under the sycamore.
In the evening looking out my back door
The magic begins.
Categories:
mandolins, 5th grade, adventure, appreciation,
Form:
Roundel
"Little Beaks"
A voice in the tumble clouds
deep silver crackles like thunder threads
Clouds of starlings
Blacken the eggshell blue sky
drowns many
A little beak
Heartbeats morph
together murmurate
vacillate their minds to unify
wings that hum like bees
A dance of seduction
envelops Blue Sky
The unseen
Superlunary
shatters the reversing
unrehearsed reverie
The Hidden One
in a forgotten
prophecy
speaks
Come little beaks
and night creatures
Daylight dares
the darkness one last taste
Like true romantics
and dead poets
mandolins their hearts
strummed eternally in seasons
Like words written on the sky
dance to make love of fun
Come starlings
little beaks
come taste
The Golden Sun
(LadyLabyrinth/ 2019)
gvlm
Categories:
mandolins, mother daughter, muse, my
Form:
Free verse
The Neapolitan tarantella
is a folk dance very graceful and lively,
it was inspired by someone having been
bitten by a poisonous Taruntula.
It's fast up-beat tempo
induces a frenzied dance in a solo,
or a couple...and as they dance they sweat out
the poison of the spider's bite.
Grandma used to sing this folklorist song,
and I danced with her while loud mandolins
and tambourines accompanied her cheerful singing...
there wasn't an awkward note in her voice.
The Neapolitan tarantella, with its frantic rhythms
and shrill harmonies infused passion in great composers,
and Mendelssohn wrote his symphony...
a song dance was composed by Rossini.
The Neapolitan tarantella grandiosely plays
and everyone stops and listens to its low and high-pitched melody,
and with little hesitation they start to dance...
beneath my veranda, these folks put on a look of festivity.
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Categories:
mandolins, happiness, history, music, passion,
Form:
Quatrain
A lovely day is over now
As Ren Faire comes to a close
As whimsical stories are told by all
Faire goers share the keepsakes they chose
Now there is quiet in the woods
Wide-eyed children must now leave
The crackling campfires start to burn fierce
As wild tales begin to weave
Drums and lutes are heartily played
Panpipes and mandolins sound
The village comes to life with glee
New friends and lovers are found
An earthly vibe begins to rise
Troubadours can now start to croon
Kings and Queens come ever so near
The night sky shines behind a radiant moon
As time stops for these noble artists
Their magic will live on
The wings of time will bring them back again
From morning until dawn
Categories:
mandolins, fantasy, imagination, music, people,
Form:
Rhyme
Take my hand come fly with me
Come dance on the moon and the stars
They're playing our song on mandolins
And strumming their little guitars
Come sail with me we'll take to the sea
I promise it'll be worth your while
Tap into your soul as I gaze in your eyes
To bring back that beautiful smile
Come live out your dreams your fantasies
Come meet me on top of cloud nine
There's nowhere on earth you'd rather be
There's no better feeling you'll find
We'll just lay back on a silky breeze
And let our temptations run wild
The longer you stay the better it is
You'll leave with a permanent smile
~Billy Hitz~
Categories:
mandolins, fantasy,
Form:
Rhyme
I love the songs of working people played
In cabins and at dances, and along
Highways where the vagabonds wander by,
Unchanged since days of early English song.
The English, Celtic minstrelsy can never die
As long as mandolins and fiddles cry
The ancient ballads of true love turned wrong—
Of God—and ghosts—and deaths and birth,
Wherever people and their folklore throng.
Out on the sea (or prairies) where the songs are made
Of people close to water, dust and earth:
Elements that give music its true worth
As folk song singers ply their timeless trade.
Categories:
mandolins, musicpeople, love, people,
Form:
Sonnet
Cripples make music with old, worn out digits and voices tarnished with age.
only slightly crippled, generally slight due to gravity
Play guitars and mandolins in a barn turned church,
Not banging on wheelchairs or walkers.
Praise the lord in song, glossy eyes mysterious
Perhaps a deep state of meditation has washed over, by and by aware of themselves
Music heard has not come from instruments, it has come from hearts
suddenly decrepit figures blossomed with wings
Revealed from their vessels angels appeared.
Astonished I thought why does peace look so sad?
Categories:
mandolins, angel, music,
Form:
Free verse
Reena gazed at the evening in the melting twilight
Oranges splattered in the sinking sunlight
Mandolins playing lovely diminuendo
A rustling breeze leaving messages
Night emerging from the passing evening
Toni enters with the smiling bouquet of the roses
Indian ocean accompanying him
Cuddle calls the blue moon deep inside the hungry room
February 16, 2018
Romantic - Acrostic - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
Categories:
mandolins, environment, love,
Form:
Acrostic
Hear the music in mid-flight,
A soft trophy moment as
Melodies of mandolins and violins weave together;
Listening and watching
My eyes and ears follow
As starry night sky and music
Create a personal sanctuary;
In unison the strings blend
And rejoice while proclaiming and
Communicating without words;
The recital ends in a whisper as
The audience reflects on
Dreams of sweet desire.
Categories:
mandolins, introspection, music, nature,
Form:
Blank verse
Delusional scimitars
festive daggers
soft balalaika
captive sword ...
Mandolins,
hot nights
harps, wine
poison,...
dangers
daggers
Banjo and
boldness,
gypsy waltz,
ruby joy ...
I desire
of life,
The beauty,
arpeggios
Utopia...
the art
for art to fight ...
be craftsman
of delights
live life in
complete
Bohemia......
Categories:
mandolins, allegory, allusion, celebration, extended
Form:
Free verse
Beauty Celebrates Dawn
Beauty Celebrates Dawn's Exquisite Flush
Mauve melding into magenta’s fuchsia blush
Pink cherry blossoms hide the sleeping thrush
Crimson cardinals dream in amaranth hush.
Like Misty Nascent Opulent Pruce
Daybreak dances in orchid shades on boughs of spruce
Soft silvery pinks serenade with amethyst flutes
Bright razzamatazz of morning matins played on ruby lutes
Aurora Bears Cerise Dawning Energy
Sunup razzle dazzle watchman – copper rooster rises
Signals first light hues in shades of coral surprises
Daystar fills lilac light with synergy
Starshine Teases Unruly Violet Winds
Raspberry colored roses sing in sunrise runes
First watch fandango coaxes daylight with morn's mandolins
Day’s glory smiles upon vanishing vanilla amber moons
7-29-21
Contest: Alpha Lines Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
Pruce – a commercial shade of pink
Categories:
mandolins, beauty, morning,
Form:
Rhyme
October’s Finale
October sets the stage for ghostly goblins – frost on pumpkins;
Black cats yowl on top of fences arching, upstage the moonlight;
Floating apparitions of wraiths soliloquies in mid-flight fright;
Full moons cast eerie – shadows lost in howling ghost light winds.
Echoes of shame like bare skeleton bones, rattle in chains
Specters of spirits roam through crumbling haunted castles
Ghost trains run again then again, over broken gobo trestles
Spooky whispers of forgotten lines in hair raising rains!
A possessed chorus line of leering pumpkins faces night
Tells a hair raising tale of a roaming headless horseman
Breaking through fourth walls to ride in a spine tingling plan
From the wings on a dark and stormy Halloween midnight
Howling hounds wake vampires who escape from coffins –
Hide from mirrors cloaked backstage with no reflection
Bubbling cauldrons cook creepy spells upon prop inspections
While spirits serenade in ad-lib on stringless mandolins.
Brittle headstones speak in lines of green lichen slime
Whispers blow out flickering lime lights of lantern candles
Graveyards draped in flowing scenes of cobweb handles
Heartbeats pound in monologues behind a scrim of fleeing time.
Haunted theater creaks with unseen footsteps mystery -
A playhouse podium for phantom encores - blocking bows -
Until twelve bells closes shut this deathly stage door somehow -
For November’s morning review that laughs at death’s lost victory.
All Hallows Eve call time when spirit sightings seem to occur -
Screeches of everlasting doom run rampant in audition -
Find their final curtain ringing down on their perdition,
Eternal life, the blessing seen, in the finale of October.
10-5-20
Contest: October
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
Categories:
mandolins, halloween, october,
Form:
Enclosed Rhyme
I think there are just two types of Jams
The performance type is for the hams
The traditional type’s not the same
Just for each other, not for the fame
The performance Jam is my winner
Playing music to all the grinners
Probably why I started a band
Is for the thrill of getting a hand
I’ve been the host of two Jams for years
Had a few rules, but nothing to fear
Open to all, beginner or pro
Took turns doing the songs we know
Just acoustic instruments allowed
Strictly Bluegrass we played to a crowd
The jams that I host are all outside
If the weather’s bad, no place to hide
Banjos, guitars, fiddles, mandolins
Having several of these was no sin
The stand-up bass, you hurt without any
Got to have one, but two is too many
At jams you meet such interesting folks
Come for the music or for the jokes
Laughing and playing, have a good time
Hope to see you at a jam of mine
Categories:
mandolins, music, music, music,
Form:
Quatrain