Best Musicians Poems
Heavenly Father,
Thank You for the many blessings that You have bestowed upon me, especially the affection for music and for the abundant joy that it has brought me throughout all the years of my life.
May this musical offering be pleasing to You and may it make Your heart glad, for it is with tender love and simple adoration that I now give back to You that which You have so graciously given to me to begin with.
May I never take this blessing nor any of Your blessings for granted or in any way think that I had anything to do with the possession of them, for it is only by Your good pleasure that I have any talent or ability to realize the desires of my heart at all.
I acknowledge that I am simply the vessel through which You have allowed these melodies to flow and it is my utmost desire to use them now in praise, worship, and thanksgiving to You.
May those who would hear this music be blessed.
May these notes strike a chord that resonates down into the deepest parts of their souls.
May the Holy Spirit orchestrate, manifest, and cultivate in them a burning desire to know You if they don’t already, and if they do, to know You better.
I humbly ask that You would coordinate my spirit, soul, and body so as to be in perfect harmony; that You would guide my hands to faithfully execute and deliver this composition of gratitude and appreciation, and that through them You would be honored and glorified.
In assurance of faith, unwavering, in accordance with Your will and by the power of the Holy Spirit, I ask these things in and through Jesus’ name, Amen.
There has to be a heaven for musicians
A place for old singers to go
Their music still touches our lives
As they did years ago
Ray Charles transcended music type
From country to rock to blues
Ritchie Valens was only seventeen
When his death hit the morning news
Jim Croce sang about Leroy Brown
While Nillson would croon Without You
Janis Joplin would make you rock
And Stevie Ray would make you blue
I still watch old Ozzie and Harriet shows
Just to hear Ricky Nelson sing
Harry Chapin took his last Taxi ride
And Elvis is still the king
John sang of peace and love
While George's guitar would gently weep
Conway's music wasn't Make Believe
I hear their music in my sleep
John Denver's in the Rocky Mountains High
And Del Shannon seeks his Runaway
Rainy Days and Mondays made Karen sigh
While Otis sat On the Dock of the Bay
Jimi Hendrix played the meanest guitar
Roy's voice couldn't get any higher
Bobby Darin searched Beyond the Sea
And Jim Morrison said Light My Fire
There has to be a Heaven for musicians
For all those who have paid their dues
Where the music will live forever
From rock n' roll to rhythm and blues.
"Crazy is as Crazy does"
Crazy is as Crazy does
poets and musicians
come undonne
fresh plots
till the soiled, their artful
passion twists
a je ne sais quoi
madness in the measure
of their melodies -
there "It" sits within, an articulate
climbing ivy de Sadeness, when
silence comes to this
words paint a wall
like flowers blooming
tale feathers flying
angels and their demons
swooning,
dance enthralled
across white territory
open spaces
close tired doors
the dead, fuelled and reborn
surrender red flags
in bed with the
romance
of new frontiers
where ancient lovers call
Crazy is as Crazy does
poets and musicians
all cultivated mercenaries
eventually
come undonne
hungry monsters
to speak and sing
of war and love
times past
long ago, and history
yet to come
words worn like
monks wear habits
hearts are verily
strummed warm
then rolled over raw
seeds and wild oats sown
thoughts like manna
placed in others' minds
and on their tongues
to speak and dance
of never-nevers
and cloudy
kingdom comes
impress to all,
heed this, they espouse
it's all quite quite
quintessential
perfectly prophétique,
murdering ALL their
little darlings
fresh plots
till the soiled, their artful
passion twists
Crazy is as Crazy does
the loons all hum and nod
when
silence comes to this
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
There was an old lady from Ireland
Who was frightened to death by a brass band
We watched with dismay
As without delay
They buried her corpse in the band stand
Contest : Slapstick Limerick Contest
5th Place
Looking back, so long ago
Comes recollections of an Airforce Show
Cathy and I were scheduled to sing
entertain Service Men, that was our thing
Out in the crowd of a thousand or more
One guy kept staring, a trait I abhor
Soon we wound up, under heavy applause
nervy guy followed, WHY? 'Just because!'
"Judy, I need you to sing in my band!"
"I need your number", then stuck out his hand
Well......Music is big in New Orleans
plus the former jerk was upsetting my dreams
Who knows when or where we both tumbled?
but it's been 52 years without a fumble!
1/28/16
contest - In Love
Cathy/Judy Singing Keesler Airforce Base '59
Oh dear Lord, didn’t you hear what we’re wishin’?
Please stop taking home all the musicians.
Don't want to wish anyone dead,
But if you must, instead,
Please get to work on the politicians.
4/22/16
The
percent,
one point three.
Thirteen of each
one thousand famous
musicians will likely
die at age twenty seven.
The, so called, Twenty Seven Club.
A tragic portent for young artists.
The truth is Hendrix, Joplin, Morrison
and Cobain died at twenty seven,
yes,a sad event, but Rick James,
Fogelberg, Roger Miller
and Billy Powell didn't.
They are members of
a unique group,
The Fifty
Six
Club.
In truth,
more artists
leave us at age
fifty six than do
at age twenty seven.
twenty two out of every
thousand, or two point two percent.
The twenty seven club is about
something different, not age but ageism.
09/19/2022
Musicians make melodious music mildly
Lavishing lovely, lively lyric… laudably
Singing sound, sensational songs sweetly
Rocking real, romantic rhapsodies… rightly
Poets pen powerful poems passionately
Writing real, righteous, romantic rhymes rightly
Wielding wealthy, wild, wise words wholesomely
Creating colorful cards… creativity cruising carefully
The great Elvis Presley stole the show
When it came to music, fast and slow
Patsy Cline could sing so sweet and fine
Without a doubt, her voice would shine
Hank Williams had a son with his name
Like father, like son – they claimed fame
Ray Charles played despite being blind
His listeners knew he was one of a kind
Aretha Franklin had a voice of pure gold
It was certain that her records were sold
Jimi Hendrix’s music would travel the world
As his listeners swayed, twirled and swirled
Elvis said Orbison was the world’s greatest singer
With a three-octave voice, his voice would linger
With Ring of Fire, Johnny Cash became world renown
His vocals rebuilt faith in those who’d been beat down
Me and Bobby McGee made this lady legendary
Janis Joplin was a soul who was far from ordinary
Diana Ross played for those who loved to hear her
With a voice like an angel, she made the soul purr
Cher demonstrated what it means to believe in yourself
With confidence and guts, she’ll never be put on a shelf
Stevie Wonder made the heart feel like it has been blessed
Without a doubt, he stirred feelings the heart would attest
The Beatles, the Rolling Stones and so many other singers
Knew the meaning of giving the 60’s its assembly of swingers
I hear he's a wimner Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joe Maverick
May 16, 2023
“I'm ready to go anywhere
I'm ready for to fade
Into my own parade
Cast your dancing spell my way
I promise to go under it”.....Quote by Bob Dylan
I AM A STRANGER HERE without you
I CAN'T EXPLAIN why
I walk through this RING OF FIRE
WHERE THE NIGHTIME IS THE RIGHT TIME-
when out of the darkness I SHALL BE RELEASED
from the uncertainty of my struggle
There are 500,000 souls here
with one voice of peace and love, and I…
am finding my voice in Neverland-
intensely running in the circles of my irreverence
to create the chords within the tunes…
my music - my rhythm – my soul
my words to change the world
Looking to my orator of this brotherhood
MR. TAMBOURINE MAN,
the designated ghost of my hope
hammering the jingling beat
that shackled my feet to follow
this haunting melody inside me
where I am the master of my freedom
But…
You are my song of songs,
YOU ARE AS GOOD AS YOU'VE BEEN TO THIS WORLD,
the hand I hold to walk in this light
lingering sweetly in the HIGH TIME
of my experimental chaos
that I so fiercely hold onto
within the bosom of my art
that rages ALL ALONG THE WATCHTOWER
of my soul
MY DARLING BE HOME SOON
People are neither good nor bad.
We are both; to different degrees,
At different times, with different people.
Some feel harder than others.
If they are wise they become artists,
Musicians, poets, potters, weavers, decorators, hair stylists.
They cannot help it.
Their feelings have to ooze out somewhere in a creative way.
My valued time for musicians:
On-stage a class of magicians,
Though their tunes not for theologian’s
Who brand musicians logicians…
It’s a reaching-out to people
For stirring their dreams or ripple,
Musicians for the route to love,
Their tunes proofs of its being a dove
“While living, bleeding and kicking
A lip you conquered be licking,
Even as time keeps a-ticking.
And unsolved mad problems sticking."
Man’s sought scarce time for musicians.
They’d envision bright conditions,
In songs hallowing beauticians;
Or them rhythmic renditions:
Lots of creative time finding,
For actions to a pair binding;
Now, no axe for spouses’ grinding
Not with great tunes for a minding
Many musicians make music,
Musical melodies mimic magnificent messages.
Mostly material mentioning meaningful moments,
Masterpieces march merrily.
Millionaire music makers.
WHO RULES?
Singers may sing and musicians play but the poet rules the day.
By: Carole O'Terry Duet
Copyright: 12/18/2018
"All Rights Reserved"
THE MAFIA MUSICIANS
On the sidewalk half a dozen swarthy men from Italy,
Playing foot-tapping dance music
With lots of clarinettes and violins.
Black moustaches and over-long hair
And dark fedoras at jaunty angles, with
Half-smiles all the time,
Switched from one tune to the next,
Without losing the beat.
Like stage-Italian characters, suntanned
With their black suits and Mafia hats,
They were happy to pose momentarlily
While people took snaps.
No hint of loss of rhythm -
I’m sure you know the sort
Of tune they were playing,
Very Italian, very foot-tapping
Polka-esque.
People watching showed their appreciation
By throwing coins into the many empty hats
On the sidewalks nearby.
Police eyeing them circumspectly yet closely,
Half expecting the violin cases
To contain instruments more lethal.