Best Riffs Poems
Curving, swirling, in moonlit stance, butterflies merrily dance,
Undulating tenor of nocturnal music, beneath stellar expanse,
When celestial orchestra plays, occult notes of galactic tune,
As titillations of love croon, mystical lyrics of melodious moon;
Echoing doting rhythms, twinkling revelry of luminous stars,
In realms magical, scintillating thrones of Venus and Mars,
As longings of soul blossom, spurring reveries of romance,
Where I decode latent missives, glinting your esoteric glance;
Enamored in tones ambrosial, humming riffs of moon song,
Cherishing sweet promise of love, reverberating lifelong,
Exalting fantasies of awe, emanating from ethereal heart,
Edifying ecstasies of morrow, as shadows of bygones depart;
Enlivening themes longed for, in womb of romantic night,
As we embrace paradise of passion, desires ecstatic ignite,
Lauding refulgent beams of moon, glistening fervid space,
When ardent images of grace, memories beloved retrace;
Waltzing in airglow above, thrilling on wings of butterflies,
Attuning to sound of music, resounding in lambent skies,
Choreographing a ballet love, rowing aura of galactic stream,
Enchanting sensuous theme vying shores of utopian dream.
Soul progress
back field in motion
The guff
Chose, chose, live grow leave! GO!
Leapt from heaven's gold
Jump started into a human mold
White clapboard poverty with tiger lily blooms,
blueberry rake poverty woolen looms.
Riffs of Emerson, Whitman, Longfellow dawns,
mothers’ hazel eyes, father Davidesque form,
chosen to drive twixt a Jew and a screw.
Magnet of lunacy...
Tumbled like an agate into the stream of life
part of the dream lesson
scream lesson
Abuser of power, one who had once roared,
Eve shaped now, weak and mewling
between the weeds of woe.
Care taken by lovers torn.
Watched over by pedophile uncles.
Befriended by lewd Father of sons.
Adult child, searching amongst the Word
for the Word is God and GOD …
There are so many words
Root ripped scenes from beauty to horror
Shiksa* taunts seep in with the smell of borsch.
A pumpkinseed amongst the pricks of Brooklyn
A wild rose planted in the asphalt soil
Doo-wop ditty
Jew’s bop to a Dago harmony,
bagels, bialys and the French twisted strands
of great grandma’s hair.
Clipped, stripped of family shoved whole
into yet another new mold.
True believers, ah yes, fanatics all.
The struggle to survive whole healthy
dipped in, dripped in, a bath of acid and thorazine.
Polish priests pedal platitudes to the sisters of St. Joseph
behind the gilded glory of the Church.
Raped by trust and betrayed by lovers,
a rose married to a prickles thorn,
so empathy is gained, and a healer born.
Metal must be formed in a crucible of fire
A healer can not be born without tasting the pyre.
"This is dedicated to all who understand this. Whether we like it or not." -D.J.E.
I wasn’t gonna write this
But
Emotions are stirring high
Cannot believe
How much time has passed
Still feel your presence
Memories
Of the slowest death
Ever felt
Running parallel
To these present seconds
An ugly revelation
Tainted the sunshine
That bared on our souls
365 days ago
So many tears
Had filled the ocean
Of despair
For love’s river
Were held back by presumption’s walls
Uncertainty
The dam’s of what could have been
Here I stand
In this present moment
Your essence still lingers
Like the flakes of a dandelion b r e a k i n g f r e e
From its home
Tormented echoes of “why”
“How come”
“Please don’t go”
“I love you…I love you so much”
High pitched resonations
Float upon
Rafts of secondary importance
And yet
This heart still knows
For it will always recall
Its truth
Promises
Empty
Played me a fool
While you held hands
With inevitable
Crossing fingers
With diffusion
Across my shoulders
Left me uncomfortably numb
All my rights
Unreserved
And all the while
I
Simply
Believed
In tomorrow
Because
My foolish hopes
Continued to warp my mind
Maybe if I didn’t look back when you walked away
Like the rules said…
…No matter.
These soft acoustic riffs
Replay in my head
You were my “Wonderwall”
“You could’ve been the one…to save me”
But I overcame
For I
Saved myself
Didn’t want to be an inconvenience for you
Colors of Fall
Your favorite season
Kinda ironic
You were like Summer & Winter
Knew when to turn up the heat
Make me sweat
Each new arrival
A summer equinox
Each departure
A rainstorm
But, when it was over
Nothing but cold
Blizzard languages
Frostbitten
Even solace’s bandages
Could not heal
But, I weathered the storm
And would do it again
Cause it was for real
…
Here I am
52 weeks have past
Occasional recollection
Of that hourglass
With no more sands
Buried in dragon’s chest
You are in my silent prayer
Always
But
Know this
Even though you are contained
Within my heart’s asylum cell block home
I loved you
With all that I had
So much
That you will be the only regret
I will ever be proud of.
© Drake J. Eszes
I was a fool.
I was a fool searching for reasons why.
Reasons why I
Grin with sudden boy giggles
As if Karma was my DJ,
Playing cotton candy woven riffs
Of rhythmic whispers
Evermore
Everlong
I savor dark chocolate Peanut M&Ms
Tasting her sincerity
With each Pacific Ocean observance
Her dialect portrays within
My sunset smiles
I was a fool.
A slightly nervous kid
At his first Sadie Hawkins dance
Holding a paper cup
filled with swirly colored punch...
...not spiked
;-)
Futile attempts to stifle these vibrating legs
From crippling my exhaling urges
I was a fool.
Searching for irreplaceable reasons
Why my smiles became
An 11 year old innocence
I smile.
I blush.
I embrace a new dream
Written on embossed bucket list
To hold her
To hold her
To hold her
towards sunrises’ incipience
One day
With no reasons why
Simply
Because
©Drake J. Eszes
The Mane Event - On The Catwalk
And now for something completely different! I invite you to experience this unique blend of music, where this dynamic video brings to life the essence of anthropomorphism, in an entertaining portrayal, highlighting creatures with human-like traits - a total figment of my fertile imagination.
Meet a lion 'With Attitude' so regal and fierce, as he prowls and sets the 'Catwalk' ablaze with his mighty roar, leaving a trail of awe, admiration and respect of the other jungle animals, and capturing the hearts of the lionesses. It's an auditory and visual feast, playing with themes of royalty, bravado, and humour.
Step into the vibrant spectacle of a jungle runway, 'The Mane Event'- On The Catwalk, a Blues Rock anthem bursting with charisma and wit, entertained by an elegantly dressed animal band and set to the gritty and soulful sounds and combines electric guitar riffs with stomping beats and deep, smoky vocals, inspired by iconic figures like the MGM lion. It combines realism with playful, cartoon-like elements set in a fantastical realm.
How does this bold and cheeky lion 'With Attitude' resonate with you? Could you see him becoming a legend on the animal runway?
Follow the lyrics on YouTube CC (closed Captions)
After five days of irony,
life was looking bleak
That fourth night seemed long,
much more than a week
I seen geckos licking eyeballs,
shovel-faced lizards swapping feet
trying to cool off
in the searing desert heat
A nomad walked by,
talking to a mirage
He could’ve been praying
and the mirage was a façade.
From my point of view,
his journey was damned
walking in circles
around the promised land
I came here fracking
for my missing soul,
and then it came gushing
as liquid black gold
Looking up astonished,
a genie appeared
saying, “Thank you, master,
I’ve been down there for years”
“Be careful what you wish for,
I’d like to give you one”
She was a sexy genie
and very good with a pun
I asked for a Time Machine,
knowing well she’d fail
but I did get one off her,
time stood still on any scale
Back in the real world,
things are calming down
I joined a death metal band
from some unmarked town
They liked my catchy riffs,
deviant lyrics and poems
We’re called (many names),
mine’s out there on its own
* * * * * *
Now before falling asleep,
it’s impossible to be dead
Living brings the nightmare
that nothing lies ahead
Still, my fear of being shunned
beats off the ugly stares,
in a world full of friends
playing musical chairs.
In the asphalt homeland
I lay down to sleep
In the background
a saxophone wails
and relaxes tired muscles
Streetlights cut through the darkness
The day has passed
as days do
This city dweller
wishes to head off to
dreamland
Jazz in the background
lets his mind wander
through sweet pathways
not created
by the hands of man
My heart beats with a rhythm
stolen from the heart of the city
Sax wails, drums beat
pianist plays lovely riffs
My dreams will be filled with joy
tonight
for I know
there are plenty
of
others
in
this
city
who will join
me in the jazz fantasia
which awaits us
Falling riffs like spangled gold,
And sounding drums seem to explode
A surge of tapping, dancing feet,
The piano’s notes, mon coeur entreat.
Cherie amour the air is ''sweet'', so silver laced,
Each face reflects another’s shine
As endeavours fruit is taken in
Like fragrant mellow wine.
© Joe Maverick 03-08-2010
Golden Disks and Whale Clicks
mind song riffs
joining the back beat
nature clicks
timpani
drums of black thunder
percuss
then the sky opens
a luminous landing
off gasses from the heat shield
rainbow across a spectrum of light
Cam’s Glieseian tongue flew over the surface
of the audio generator
Voyager’s golden disk long gone now
transposes across a film of galactic plasma
the taste of whale and bird song they tongue
enthralls them—though they had no notion of
whales or birds
mind song cascade, scroll, behind the visitors opaque orbs
joining the back beat nature clicks woodpecker tunes
tympanic membranes shiver upon
retractable body hair
drums of black thunder roll
past helmetless crowns
percussing their brain stems
orgasmically
then the sky opens
Sol’s a black dwarf they are too late
but still the songs sang
Cam tongued the plasma film
once more then reentered interstellar
hibernation
First Published: Eye to the Telescope 1/15/15
There are so many sounds
That are enjoyed by so many
But the sounds i love most
Are by plectrum or penny
Lindsey Buckingham playing "Go Your Own Way"
Even Joe Perry makes "Walk This Way" say
Eric Clapton and his solo on "Cocaine"
Don Felder with "Hotel California" listening time and time again
Peter Green strumming "Man Of The World"
David Gilmour and Pink Floyd's "Time" the best i have ever heard
Jimi Hendrix with the amazing "Hey Joe"
Alex Lifeson axing "Working Man" in Toronto flow
Pete Townsend from the Who "Won't Get Fooled Again"
Neil Young and his anthem "Like A Hurricane"
George Harrison delights with "Here Comes The Sun"
Kerry Livgren from Kansas state "Carry on Wayward Son"
Tom Scholz of Boston with their "A Man I'll Never Be"
Jimmy Page from Led Zeppelin as their "Whole Lotta Love" riffs free
Neal Schon on a Journey "Who's Crying Now"
Nancy Wilson Seattle's Heart "Crazy On You" wows
The sounds you read above, are just my ones of many
Whether they are played by a plectrum, or played by a penny
I did mention above, that i loved Pink Floyd's "Time"
But second to it, is Slash's "Sweet Child of Mine"
I’m left perplexed. How vexing, how complex…
the plight of a simple man, (one’s ruin is another’s choosing) is moving and doing the least that he can, no oil changes no wedding band.
All this just to exist, just to be standing, still living, surviving this life with a pocket knife and all the time that most never venture to find before the last goodbye.
Like the return of high tide you can count on his nothing, nothing to show nothing to hide... a cowboy trailblazing the countryside.
Beethoven's eleventh symphony ?keeps the beat of this visceral epiphany.?
No piano key in record history? could serenade away the blue music that drips from the riffs in me.
How is it to be, so utterly free. No paper trail to keep folded neatly, a homeless nomadic home body taking what the rest of us are wasting, catching sickness digging ditches while we dine on delicious richness.
My intuition becomes twisted and misses the simpleness where my wisdom depicted the abyss, this before my vision was transformed by barely bearing witness to his existence.
If it hadn't been for poetry
what would I have done
with all those cliffs
I almost jumped off of--
with all the riffs
in the music of my life
I couldn't seem
to get enough of.
With all the passion
I imagined I couldn't
live without. Poetry
was the place I passed up
the junctions I might
have chosen otherwise,
when Wise had nothing
to do with it. You can
be sure of it: Poetry
saved my life.
Prime rib burnt
Heat culprit
Some sides weren't
Bean salad
Garden fresh
Taste valid
Christmas gifts
Jesus birth
Music riffs
12/23/2019
Have a Merry 3-Cubed Christmas Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Andrea Dietrich
Checked with How Many syllables
False dawn scouts creep eerily through the mists
dance on the cooling surface of moonlight
nudge nocturne musicians through final riffs
to tease the crusted eyes of daybreak’s sight.
Awake!! Soft breezes call to rippled shores
beseeching all to greet their rising king
in hum, in chirp, in open petal doors
a welcome to this cacophonic fling.
So bathe within the flame of sunshine’s lust
impregnate frozen dreams long dormancy
rejoice in bringing forth earth’s budding thrust
welcome the loving touch of passing bee.
Sweet sun, you arc across a future’s sky
fade beneath the moonlight’s reverent sigh.
©3/5/2018
submitted to – Sunshine Sonnet – Poetry Contest
sponsor – John Hamilton
So, just what is poetry?
An endless attempt to rhyme with orange?
A forever searching of the soul for meaning?
An idyll fantasy a-dance with alliteration’s riffs?
An individual search for “our” Holy Grail
Perhaps, a distant song
Forever playing in our heads,
Sung softly ‘neath the murmur of the day.
Pitons driven into the stony crust of life.
A mud puddle inviting us to make mud pies
Rekindle the joy of soft pliable words
Shaping a moment to ponder
Poetry’s resonant question
“who makes the best mud pies”