Best Quartet Poems
homemade scarlet string
light Aroma
mottling Degree
burning
autumn Leaves –
with nymph flapping wings
you win
waltz to the rhythms on the
zephyr's caroling strain
rainbow-colored
smooth waves
gently rustling intonation
oriflame Lasting
autumn Carnelian
philharmonic Orchestra
Written: July 29, 2022
Categories:
quartet, allusion, autumn, inspirational,
Form:
Free verse
When Yesterday's Ghost Rises From Its Grave,
4th poem, From my blog, A Quartet Of Poems
(4.)
When Yesterday's Ghost Rises From Its Grave,
(4th poem, From my blog, A Quartet Of Poems)
When yesterday's ghost rises from its grave
telling your dastardly sins to behave
can that midnight hour your spirit then feel
poison arrows in your Achilles heel
slow melting marrows in your weeping bones
transcendence in your heartbreaking tones?
O'tell me that torture, how does it pain
Will your rebellion ever let you be sane?
In cold dark that your lost soul too oft plays
sorrows born 'neath Heaven's pleading stairways
can new Life and Love your agony heal
or with devil's oath you dare make a deal,
fast drying tears spat upon cracked sidewalks
crimes with Mother Nature you dare not talk!
O'tell me that torture, how does it pain
Will your rebellion ever let you be sane?
When yesterday's ghost rises from its grave
telling your dastardly sins to behave
can that midnight hour your spirit then feel
poison arrows in your Achilles heel
those melting marrows in your weeping bones
transcendence in your heartbreaking tones?
O'tell me that torture, how does it pain
Will your rebellion ever let you be sane?
Robert J. Lindley, 5-13-2020
Rhyme, Stepping From That Mountain,
Fleeing From That Cold, Dark Abyss.....
Categories:
quartet, art, deep, identity, judgement,
Form:
Rhyme
Tenor winds of Spring,
A swift orchestrated gust;
Ensemble of air.
*
Ensemble of air,
With Summer’s baritone draft;
Layered season breeze.
*
Layered season breeze,
Falsetto of the Fall’s fugue;
In the this quartet.
*
In the this quartet,
Soprano hums, Winter‘s end;
Quartet of the winds.
Categories:
quartet, music, nature, seasons
Form:
Choka
1 the year end
auld lang syne , my dear
into eternity
2 long grass,
tall nettles-
no mower
3 AMATORY DESIRE
the need
the longing
the touch,
a kiss-
a couple in
ectasy
4 REQUIEM
nothing-
then silence,
sad faces!
then tears,
emotion,
regret-
then pain
you hear read all my short forms @strandpoet on twitter
Read examples of 66 poetic forms in 100 poems in my kindle ebook BREVE
Categories:
quartet, inspiration, poetry,
Form:
Verse
THE BARBERSHOP QUARTET
The barbershop quartet, mustache brushes in hand.
A Capella joviality, with torquing wrists, snapping fingers.
Bristles foaming, silky white and smooth, voices grand.
Dapper in their pinstripe suits, hats — Delmonico brand.
Sweet Adeline, drawn out. My Adeline — peaks, lingers.
The barbershop quartet, mustache brushes in hand.
Choreography matchless with their sugar-cane wands.
One by one they tap and score with lighthearted zingers.
Bristles foaming, silky white and smooth, voices grand.
Bass, lead, baritone and tenor glitz altogether stand,
Impressing the country stage — these polished singers.
The barbershop quartet, mustache brushes in hand.
Differences overlooked, blend of ringing chords command.
Friendship in angelic voice, grooming of youthful wingers.*
Bristles foaming, silky white and smooth, voices grand.
Brothers in harmony, gathering precious social sand.
Through time, the dusty chair spins and memories linger.
The barbershop quartet, mustache brushes in hand —
Bristles foaming, silky white and smooth, voices grand.
4/25/2018
*wingers - I am using to describe the new set of kids who
practice “wing it”
Sweet Adeline written by Richard Gerard
Categories:
quartet, music, song,
Form:
Sestina
Old Mr. Nicholson
totters across the town square
to the barbershop where
Clive has cut his hair
for the last forty years or so
Not hardly needing
even a trim
but pretending
he has a reason besides
the gossip waiting within
Inside, the shop smells like hair tonic
shaving cream and old leather
and the only noticeable things
that Clive's changed
in the last forty years
are the calendar, magazines
and gumball machine
Tall and gaunt, Clive stoops and
shuffles around the shop
a bit slow and shaky, but still
the cheapest and best around
as he drawls out the latest
scuttlebutt from all over town
Harry Van Hoorn leans
sideways in the old barber chair
hanging on every word like an old hound
ears flapping in the breeze
making an odd squinchy face as he
holds back a sneeze
bits of loose hair tickling his nose
While old Arnie Bruner
broods in the corner
his usual sour-faced self
like an old prune
all wrinkled and dried up
without a single good thing to say
“Well, hello Ed!” Clive stops and says
as Mr. Nicholson sidles in
he amiably waves his comb in the air
continuing to work on Harry's hair
thoroughly ignored as he
continues to speak
“Long time, no see!” Harry sings out
even though they were both
in here just last week
“Hiya Harry!” Mr. Nicholson says
in his high-pitched little whine
“Have you heard about-”
“Oh wait, lemme guess-” Arnie breaks in
in his growly bass
“...it's about that place... next door to-”
“Jim and Grace” Harry cuts in
“No, I was going to say-”
Mr. Nicholson chirps
a bit snappily
“It must be about Jenny Mae...”
Harry chortles gleefully
“No, it's gotta be about Faye!-”
Arnie belts out grumpily
Meanwhile, they're missing
all the scorching details
of the greatest scandal
as Clive croons on
amid the din
of his gabby, blabby customers
each desperate
to get a word in
Back and forth, in and out
with bickers and shouts
hums, warbles, trills, groans
solos and accidental duets
their crazy cacophony has become
a funny (albeit gossipy) kind
of barbershop quartet!
Categories:
quartet, community, humanity, humor, humorous,
Form:
Free verse
i treated your loss just like death
grieving for you as i did my mother
i still wonder if the universe
wasn't teaching me a lesson in karma
for you were a personification of heaven
which surely meant there would be hell to pay
for a year i tried to drown you out
with illegal drugs and spirits
something to wipe away the memories
numb the gut wrenching pain
and to quiet the nightmares
that made me fearful of sleep
you still remain
after my previous endeavors failed
i sought out pleasurable company
calling on old acquiantances
and admirers of our once shared love
dull, boring, lacking in every sense
and that is putting it mildly
then that lonely august afternoon
an unexpected surprise
chiming from within my apartment
your tender voice on the other end
everything rushing back
my soul revitalized
your freshman year in your rearview
returning home to gather creature comforts
inviting me for a ride along to arizona
after all others had declined
i hesitated thinking it a bad idea
but knew the courage it must've took to ask
hey danny, do you remember
sleeping in the cab of your truck
at that shady looking truck stop
just over the new mexico state line
you nestled up in my arms sleeping
just like old times
i remember climbing with you
through the catalina shadows
chasing roses instead of lilacs
jumping over chasms
eating prickly pears
and showering in the springs
three days i spent in your bliss again
while three days you sharpened your dagger
waking up to the sight of ian
hovering over me, smiling
like a buzzard mocking its pray
unaware i'd been mislead
our time together cut short by my request
unable to bear the thought of you having moved on
standing alone at the terminal side-by-side
your hand reached over to cup mine
turning i could see the tears welling up in your eyes
your voice cracking now with apologies
one final embrace
your face buried into my chest as you sobbed
your eyes opening shedding tears
one final kiss
feeling just like the first
under the fall
a decade has gone by
i've sworn off love in hopes
someday you'll return to reclaim what's yours
now and forevermore
even after all we've been through
you still remain
~ fin ~
Categories:
quartet, hope, love, drug, universe,
Form:
Free verse
summer before freshman year
stargazing from the muddy banks
of a class celebratory bonfire
across the roaring river
multiple guitar melodies
competing with the sounds
of joyous screaming and laughter
as well as the usual night life
ever the outsider
all alone in the crowd
why am i here?
cause she invited me
she rustles through the treeline
to stand riverside with me
wet clay between our toes
and lilacs masking the river scent
light astral conversation
with a bit of finger pointing
followed by awkward silence
and a chilling wind
by my hand she takes me
leading me down the trail
the sounds of our companions fading
as we draw nearer our destination
a dry dirt path between grass edges
leading us to a cobblestone stairway
once taken we find ourselves alone
secluded behind a rushing wall of water
she relinquishes my hand
and takes a seat
removing her shoes
she rinses them in the fall
i follow suit
sparking up light conversation
the butterflies trying to get out
and voice trying not to crack
rubbing the goosebumps on her arms
i blanket her in my hooded sweatshirt
she rests her head on my shoulder
and breathes a deep a sigh
a comfortable silence
for what felt like an eternity
dear god, let me die here
let this be my last memory of us
turning her gaze as she raises her head
leaning in slightly
a million neurons firing at once
as we get lost in each other
some unseen natural force
pushing us from both sides
ever closer our lips grow
until the universe explodes
perfect harmonious bliss
no other description will suffice
my hand on her cheek
hers on mine
we pull away slowly
smiling and satisfied
having answered the question
we were both too afraid to ask
a year of friendship expanding
like the cosmos above us
an entire universe formed from a single bang
a love story begins from one touch, one kiss
Categories:
quartet, first love, universe,
Form:
Free verse
With just 36 miles to go
the silence became deafening,
the afternoon dragging on into
the everlasting evening
until your call.
With just 36 miles to go
how could I worry so much,
but, I did my dear, I did
and I thank you so
for your call.
When you've only 36 miles left to get home
I'll soon be able to thank you in person
for your voice,
your life
and your love.
-------------------------------------------------------
36 minutes to show
again how I love you,
again how much you love me
and how we’re made for each other.
36 minutes to show
our love has stood the test of time,
our lives together mean so much more
and our future is brighter than before.
36 minutes to show
my appreciation of you,
my need to be part of you
and your desire to be one with me.
----------------------------------------------------------
Just 36 hours ago
we were as close as two can get,
were as loving as two can be
and were as caring as two can show.
Just 36 hours ago
we held each other,
held our breath
and held time still for a while.
Just 36 hours ago
we lived as life should be lived,
loved as two lives should love
and learned just how far we've come.
------------------------------------------------------------
36 years ago
when we were young
and our love was only a tender bud,
how were we to know God would still allow it to grow.
36 years ago
I felt love for the first time,
my heart broke for the first time,
now is our love renewed and my heart mended.
36 years ago
life hit hard and I kept on going,
loneliness was my new friend,
would I have done different knowing it wasn’t our end?
Categories:
quartet, loveheart, heart, life, love,
Form:
Free verse
Aha! Where is Kwame Nkrumah?
Black-unity champion with cocoa-filled head whose
Calabash never misses palm wine for elders;
Departure to bliss not a reality, tell us why?
Everything must be done to wake up Patrice Lumumba
Freedom fighter for Zaire- the lion of the exploited
Gave your blood to water the tree of liberty,
Is truly the Martin Luther King of Africa,
Join us again, animate our spirit of struggle for liberty
Kambarage Nyerere, are you still praying for brotherhood?
Mouth dripping honey, soul pulsating love for all
New, healthy tomato in stained basket of governance
Open the door of freedom; Jump into the ring. No delay
People-powered Nelson Mandela, are you coming back?
Quartet member of the moving train of liberation
Recall that you’re the curative Aspirin of power-ache
Stronger than the cruel stones of Ruben Island
Time for Africa to fly away from Ruben Island
Unfortunately Ruben Island guards still arrest
Very many and paint them “Old boys of Mandela”!
Categories:
quartet, africa, allusion, hero, political,
Form:
ABC
THE AL-ANDALUS QUARTET: PART FOUR
ALMERÍA / UMM AL-MARIYA 2007 AD / 1427 AH
The traveler who journeys to the City of Almería
arrives at a port where the routes of the ferries,
the whitecaps and waves, the salt-leaden gusts in
the searing white heat, the sculptures of dolphins
manifested at play on the boulevard perpendicular
to the sterns of great ships, reveal windows and
mirrors in which every reflection is a perplexing
distortion, generating questions impossible to
answer with the images at hand
Ciudad Almería is Umm Al-Mariya,
A city with barrios named Al-Musalá, Al-Medina,
Al-Haud, where visionary souls at the College of
Architects draw invisible lines from the markets of Fez
the minarets of Essaouira to the courtyards and gardens
of an Andalusia making paradise landscapes of red tiles
and roses, wrought-iron and jasmine, and burbling
fountains as seductive as the curvature of Arabic script;
where every dark eye under every headscarf, under
every skull cap, beneath flat-brimmed sombreros and
every dark curl blowing free in the breezes between
mountains and sea, sees only itself colored café con
leche, burned walnut by sunlight, yet never identical to the
likenesses imagined when they think of themselves;
and where luminous women with irresistible smiles
think in African tongues and laugh loudly in public, look
you straight in the eye and in their accented Spanish
offer no explanation for the browning of Spain
The intelligent observer see ships every day
link Morocco and Algeria with Al-Andalus, their
sleek silhouettes mimic seabirds and dolphins,
their windows and lights and the curves of their hulls
a mosaic of facets which, distorted by water, make city
and the sea seem a shimmering collage taunting resident
and visitor with fragmented images of who he once was
and who she might become, but never an inkling of
who they are now!
Emanuel Carter
Categories:
quartet, christian, history, islamic,
Form:
Free verse
THE AL-ANDALUS QUARTET
THE AL-ANDALUS QUARTET: PART ONE
GIBRALTAR / DJEBEL-TARIQ 711 AD / 92 AH
In the eyes of the hawk
Djebel Musa to Djebel Tariq
is the tactical distance across the
turbulent waters where the blue
Mediterranean meets the
endless blue sea
The dark swirling currents and
the threatening waves, mediate
traffic between the east and the west
like a vigilant father in a Numidian tribe,
and like a doting negassa, chaperone
a wedding at the Rock of Gibraltar to
marry the landscapes of Africa and
Europe, stir the chaotic brooding of
Christianity’s north with the volatile
moods and enraptured exuberance of Arab
and Berber, soon Tuareg and Black, the
stormier winds of Maghreb and mission
from the Islamic south,
and on this new day as a military favor
to the warrior Tariq, mask the
gathering sounds of derbouka, sagat,
war-horse and armor, zurna, al-oud,
turban, tunic and the long curved sword
at the sharp leading edge of a shining
idea which, like a flaming sharuq of
faith and surrender from Djebel-Tariq
to the Guadalquivir, from the Guadiana
north to the Tagos and Duero, to the
Ebro and the Pyrenees, the territory
beyond, through the chasms and
gorges of the disintegrating map of
the Hispano-Romano, Visigoth and
Vandal, will conceal Ano Domini
beneath Hijriyyah in a new land
of Allah called Al-Andalus
Sharuq (Arabic): A hot dusty humid southeast wind in southern Europe that begins in the Sahara and picks up moisture as it crosses the Mediterranean. Spanish: Sirocco. Italian: Scirocco
Emanuel Carter
Categories:
quartet, christian, history, islamic,
Form:
Free verse
hey danny, do you remember...
...dueling 'blind melon' acoustics
on your living room floor?
...falling asleep all afternoon
on the hammock, couch or floor?
...hanging out with yoko ono
at the lennon art show?
...painting murals in the school halls
they're still there, you know?
...our first-year anniversary
returning to the fall?
...driving your dad's car
in our underwear and your bra?
...spending spring break together
while your parents were at an out-of-town event?
...how we spent that entire week
in your bed, clothes scattered and bodies spent?
...night driving up to michigan
to help a friend in need?
...melanie was heartbroken
by eric's evil deed?
...graduation summer and how
we worked till we were sore?
...you for college ambitions
and i for something more?
...seven years later
returning to those muddy banks?
...me getting down on bended knee
ring extended and giving thanks?
...you smiled and listened
even crying as i spoke?
...my worst fearing coming true,
my voice finally broke?
...how ironic our love started
with a "yes", we watched it grow?
...how you broke my heart
with antonymous "no"?
...every little moment
of those past seven years?
...how it all went so well
but managed to end up in tears?
...how you held me so softly
laying in my arms that night?
...your way of apologizing
trying to make things right?
...i told you to keep the ring
as a token of our love in vain?
...you put it next to your heart
hanging from a golden chain?
...i stood next to you
at the terminal of your flight?
...i said "see you later"
and you said... "goodbye"?
Categories:
quartet, break up, first love,
Form:
Rhyme
like a breath of fresh air
my eyes fixated as she rushed on by
like an angel put here just for me
my shyness a weakness
an opportunity left behind in her wake
a ticket to stand in her presence
her deepest desires and darkest secrets
bound up inside a spiral notebook
finding its way to the floor
i took possession of it without hesitation
giving silent chase without a name to call
tracking just the scent of her lilac perfume
heart racing and pupils dilating
tired muscles and short on breath
dodging people and barreling through corridors
once outside my pursuit ends
a gentle touch creating ripples for years to come
how soft her skin felt under my fingertips
her long brown hair flowing as she turned
her green eyes piercing through me
and her voice intoxicating me with but a word
"yes?"
yes, yes indeed
oh god yes
without a word on my part
she looks down and takes notice
bewilderment mixed with relief on her face
a "thank you" from her lips
felt like being knighted
forever your humble servant
oh dear angel
speak unto me your name
"danielle"
my body shudders
my mind races
my chest tightening
my name escapes as meek
she smiles
and waves goodbye
that night in my bed
restless by the days events
by the glow of my desk lamp
pen in hand, "february 20, 1994
dear journal, today
i met the girl of my dreams..."
* inspired to write this based on Leo Larry Amadore's "The You In Me"
Categories:
quartet, first love,
Form:
Free verse
QUARTET
A friend young like myself declined
These concert tickets and here am I
“Quartet”
U of Indiana’s Department of music’s pride and joy
I look about
These are not the movie crowd
No there is expectation
Up down surround the hall
Mrs. Guldergreen would never wear her furs in darkened places
OH! She will be seen!
Odd though the mixture –
Sport shoes
Dress shoes
Some with ties
No sport coat
No vest
The Guldergreens of past concert years would be simply astounded nearly in tears
These days (say some) are thankfully different
To appearance to senses become indifferent
How then four tuxedoed proud men
Now appear
On stage
No mics
No woofers
No swinging hips
No four-letter words escape their lips
AMAZING!
ARCHAIC!
GOOD LORD!
After a bow a glance all around
The four even now sit down
The lights go down
OH! dumb!
Where is the drumbeat?
Sounds that move the African tribes
No one’s raising arms on high
No earrings
Nose rings
No dancing around the aisles when the music begins
But THEN!
The UNIMAGINABLE!
A strain so soft
You actually hear the tick of your own wristwatch
No equipment on stage but
The air is electric
Nor a breath
Or sideways glance can break the spell
Surely the walls by grey-sickness stricken
Will crumble and fall
At last the music swells
All the while we have sat like statues
Not knowing or caring
Where we’re at
A final chord
Music is done
They
Indiana’s Quartet now rises as one
Plaster people come to life
On their feet
Shouting
Whistling
I’ll be damned!
There’s hope after all
Categories:
quartet, life, music, music,
Form:
Narrative