Best Song Writing Poems
Here's To The Poets
With so many people confounded by words,
unable to say what they need to be heard,
our music is first in the last of our means
we use to convey how to say what we mean.
With genres and styles unique as us all,
our flavor and taste feeds the soul, should it call,
soothing the beast that's found trapped in it's cage
by expressing the feelings left lost in its rage.
In our happiest times or a moment of cross,
in sadness or joy, finding love, or it's loss,
the poetic words speak to serve our desire
to share in a moment consumed in its fire.
For those of us challenged, in whole to impart,
needing more than our own word to speak from the heart,
here's to the poets and writers of song,
whom find ways with their words to say all that we long.
Come and find me in my solitude,
I'm a girl so free,
As I sing these songs of gratitude,
Come, listen to me.
My God is so good, I sing of Him,
He has made me His,
His guiding light will never grow dim,
What a blessed bliss!
These songs of sweet praise I've penned down here,
You can sing them too,
Come and join me without any fear,
Let's praise God anew.
08/21/17
Syllable count: 9.5.9.5
psyches of all bards and writers
synchronized crowd swimming in waters
yuppies and brave souls unheard by all
chanting audience in an imaginary stall
hearts we hide as words unfold
on paper and scrolls, always young never old
lasting ink or cellphone battery so strong
of thinkers and scribblers of prong
genetics of poetry or honed skill
your poetry in a song that inspires and fill
only the strong survives and remain
filaments of musing, project and pertain
poetic justice is justice for all
or no balance like a bouncing ball
ever and never will an artist to surrender or fall
triumphant in all writings, big or small
remnants of your undying soul
yours is the scepter and crown and tiara
like winner takes all
One day I'll write some thing
That will make this planet sing
It may not be perfect
For anybody, even me
We'll have to wait and see...
If the blue sky fungi
Sail below the window
Of my jet airliner
You'll know I wrote something
That made this planet sing!
One day I'll be King
And someone else will sing
Songs I weave from words
Like an alphabetic artist
Who lights up the darkest.
When the blue sky fungi
Sail below the window
Of my jet airliner
You'll know I wrote something
That made this planet sing!
One day wearing nothing
I'll wander down in spring
Dance the night sky nearer
Guile her with guitars
Then sprinkle her with stars.
Now the blue sky fungi
Sail below the window
Of my jet airliner
You know I wrote something
That gave the darkness bling!
See the Old Man Thomas
As he burns his brain
With a glimmering glass
And a ratteling chain
Behind white horses
In a New York bar
Between a setting sun
And a falling star
No use in raging
Over dying light
Old Thomas won't
But the young men might
He will go gently
Into the black
Just stumble ahead
And never look back
See the Old Man Thomas
- wild and gray
He bought nothing
- but he had to pay
Lets bury him down
In sand and clay
Say a quick prayer
And be on our way
In the heavy traffic
In the crowded street
In the dark cafes
Where lovers meet
Old Thomas walk
Up around the bends
Where silence sings
And music ends
We'll have fun
At his funeral soon
Dance all night
By the bright blue moon
We'll read his poems
For old time's sake
And sing at the grave
And sleep at the wake
See the Old Man Thomas
- wild and gray
His whole life happend
- yesterday
Lets bury him down
In sand and clay
Say a quick prayer
And be on our way
The Old Man Thomas
Is gone for sure
One last drink
Then he closed the door
No new words
From his drunken pen
And nobody knows
If we'll meet again
Tears In The Wind
Left hand deftly fingering strings on frets,
While my right hand is picking or strumming.
Composing a sad song about regrets
And searching a melody by humming.
I easily find a chord progression,
Played in a melancholy minor key,
Then add some dynamics for expression--
Reaching a fugue-like state releases me
Fleeting perfection is my endeavor.
Like tears in the wind, now lost forever.
In dreams, I always wanna walk with Roy,
I think that my scary feelings ain't right.
I'm just running scared like a silly boy -
alone, so lonely, this feeling tonight.
Tell me, are you as lonely as can be?
I had long thought that I was over you.
How ever will you give your smile to me
and then, dearest darling, what can I do?
Pretty paper, pretty ribbons of blue;
I'll be coming back some day, in some way,
with pretty pencils to write I love you -
precious words I'll never take away.
Roy's soulful serenades sung for decades;
due to his operatics, they'll not fade.
Mercy.
Sonnet 98 words Dedication to iconic songwriter and singer Roy Orbison.
Snippets from his many famous song lyrics make up this sonnet verse. Illustration of Roy in pen and colored pencil by G. Gaul.
He Rocks On Relentless
Hell Bent And Reckless
Screaming at the Demons
Tied Inside His Head
Villifying His Bed
Whipped with Chains
To This Evil Lovers Hate
But, He Rocks on Relentless
Hell Bent And Reckless
Screaming At The Demons
Tied Inside His Head
Villifying His Bed
Whipped With Chains
To This Evil Lovers Hate
Which key should I put this song in?
I sing in G Ionian/major comfortably,
Likewise the relative E Aeolian/minor scale.
Plus those guitar chords are easy as sin.
I could choose a scale that’s more exotic -
D Mixolydian has the same notes and chords.
Hungarian or Roumanian minor, Spanish Gypsy.
Or another scale derived from minor harmonic.
Keep it simple – let’s start with the G Major scale.
Should I do a basic 1-4-5 with major G/C/D chords?
Or a jazzy 2-5-1 with A minor/D/G ending on the tonic?
Let’s do a bluesy 1-4-5 with a turn-around at the tail!
Just major and minor triad chords are boring.
Major, minor, and dominant sevenths can be cool;
But I’m rather partial to suspended seconds and fourths.
My sliding E diminished flat 7th will keep the fans from snoring!
What can I do to add even more pizzazz and glitz?
Slowly build the dynamic and rhythmic complexity.
Give the crowd a tribal chorus they can sing to.
Add a spanking hot hook throughout that never quits!
There I Was Standin' On My Swing
Verse 1
When I think of those memories so very clear
A little boy flyin' through a summer nights air
I reached for those stars floating so far above
Could I soar beyond, could I touch love
Verse 2
That golden moon it called down to me
Here I am waitin' child, feather light you'll be
Then a soft breeze blew coolin' my face
While I flew and wondered about that place
Chorus
There I was standin' on my swing
A little man wishin' that he had wings
Spent so many nights just a wondering
And there I was standin' on my swing
Verse 3
What's holdin' me back from travelin' up there
What is it that's keepin' this boy down here
It was such a strange world for my contemplation
With one kid dreamin' 'bout a new destination
Chorus: Repeat Twice
There I was standin' on my swing
A little man wishin' that he had wings
Spent so many nights just a wondering
Yeah there I was standin' on my swing
Tag lines: Fading
There I was standin' on my swing
There I was standin' on my swing
© Copyright 2015 Robert William Gruhn - BMI - All Rights Reserved
walking alone, in this world by myself
I was so caught up, trying to please
everybody else
I couldn't think straight
I couldn't sleep straight
by the grace of GOD within myself
I am here today....
I can truly say...
I am!
I am what I am
I can truly say
you can truly say
I am!
i am what I am
I can truly say
you can truly say
I - am
I - am
I - am
I - am
I am!
i am what I am
I can truly say
you can truly say
I - am
I tried to write a song like John Denver would have done
Thought the way to do it was to emulate each one
Went to Colorado for a Rocky Mountain High
Found heaven near Shenandoah, but inspiration still not nigh.
Left my wife on a jet plane, didn't tell her what for
She would have disapproved, said get a job, what a bore.
In Wyoming, I camped under the moon
I tried to compose, but didn't like the tune
[chorus]
Channeling Denver, songwriter to emulate
I had the acoustic guitar, just couldn't be great
Searching for lyrics in that mountain space
Found peace, but no words in that quiet place
South wind blew in that East Texas town
Had a momentary idea, but couldn't write it down
At wits end, followed a country road home
disheartened, halfway, I sat on a stone.
I thought of John Denver's last flight, his plane fell to the sea
A tragic snapshot of that image before eternity
Remembered his song about his old guitar
In the music pantheon, I hope forever a star
[outro]
I gave up on the lyric, felt writer's block
Did I have anything worth saying? Tried to take stock
Then looked into my past, found what I had sought
A melody of my own, unpretentious and taut
But don't misunderstand, don't get me wrong
I'll can't wait to see the Wrangell mountains and play a John Denver song.
the gulf circle is where
brown pelicans dive for their
dinner over the heads
of the hungry masculine
wood storks looking men
swarming in schools like shark
preying on beautiful elderly women
for they jewels life savings retirements
pensions property and real estate
anything he deems of value
wearing khakis by day tropical
shirts baring parrots coconuts
both hands in their sunken empty
pockets scouring dreams and life
savings of grandmothers and somebody's
aunts strolling along the antique shops
thrift shops following artists writers
thrive awaiting a time to dive his prey
shoulders raised and back knees knocked
feet flat turned outward over canvas
looking penny loafers he smells of cheap
hair tonic his eyes lock beneath dark
sunglasses while the woman approaches
big straw hat beach bag retired poet
brilliant writer removing her own book
she took years to write the pink flamingo
sings a warning for all ladies sunbathing
to watch out run for cover while his knees
pop and stretch backwards he opens
his long beak of a nose and grunts
he raises the longest arms unusually thin
smooth fingers as if he never lifted not one
of them to work ever he snatches the old
woman book spilling her pink grapefruit
juice grabbing her change purse retrieving
her coin collection finally the last coin falls
a very rare Abraham Lincoln penny he picks
it up the woman cries contadino contadino
he mumbles quickly removes one
of his tattered and warn penny loafer
places the rare coin inside his shoes
strolls along simply singing the blues
He said “I’ll song-write till I die.”
They said “You’ll wise up in time.”
But as the decades drifted by
His mind was filled with rhyme.
He kept his demos by the bed,
Back to 1972,
And the s--t the publishers said,
He’d underline in blue.
Willie Nelson’s picture on the wall.
He went half crazy now and then;
And his best friend, Alcohol,
It helped him guide his pen.
I went to see him just today.
First time I’d seen him in years;
He’d finally passed away
From fifteen thousand beers.
He stopped songwriting today.
They placed him on the funeral pyre.
And they threw his demos in,
And the flames grew higher and higher.
The publishers came by to see him one last time,
Just the way I knew they would,
They clapped their hands and clicked their heels—
This time they’re through with him for good…
Verse 1: I was dumb and foolish
I did not love myself that much compared to today
I know why I made the wrong choices
In my mind, I should move on
But it was not like PTSD
I wish I had more training in ethics
I am sorry
I am still sorry
Pre-chorus: All I want to do is to talk to myself again
Chorus: I wish I never made the dull errors
I wish I were the perfect child
And I apologize to those whom I hurt (I mean it)
I cannot run and waste my time wondering through the past
But I will become stronger if I am not young again
Verse 2: I’ve given kindness a million times
But I’m still wanting to say lo siento
I embrace the imperfection in the present, past, and future
I let it be inevitable
I can’t tell the difference whether it’s too late or not to say so
I do it anyway
Pre-chorus: All I want to do is to talk to myself again
Chorus: I wish I never made the dull errors
I wish I were the perfect child
And I apologize to those whom I hurt (I mean it)
I cannot run and waste my time wondering through the past
But I will become stronger if I am not young again
Bridge: Dear every loved one, I know the specialness and flaws inside and outside
I should let it grow
Even if it is my apologizes
Pre-chorus: All I want to do is to talk to myself again
Chorus: I wish I never made the dull errors
I wish I were the perfect child
And I apologize to those whom I hurt (I mean it)
I cannot run and waste my time wondering through the past
But I will become stronger if I am not young again
Outro: I’m a strong person if I’m not young again