Best Song Tribute Poems
Sang like a whippoorwill, up high on a hill
Played trumpet like Satchmo, with panache and skill
To watch that man tap-dance, gave even Gregory Hines a thrill
As Ella Fitzgerald told us, 'Sammy's pure talent' distilled
November 07, 2019
Your Favorite Artist Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
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Notes:
1. See 'The Birth of the Blues,' (movie) c. 1955, b & w,
to view Sammy's exceptional singing, trumpet
playing, and tap-dancing ability. (4:39 clip)
2 See 'Tap,' (movie clip) 1981, to view Gregory Hines,
a remarkable tapper himself, in awe of Sammy's
(and his friends') tap-dancing.
3 See clip of 'Ed Sullivan Show,' 1964, (3 minutes,
27 seconds) to see Ella introduce Sammy as 'pure
talent,' and then to view their incredible jazz singing.
I went back to the farm seeking Maggie, only to find that she had gone.
Searching for shelter from the storm.
Another sad eyed lady, laid low, who foretold of forlorn love,
and removed my crown of thorns.
As the evening grew and light subdued, though not dark yet,
a hard rain began to fall.
A black crow sat on a scarecrow playing his tambourine,
and all the answers went blowing in the wind.
You realized there are no more alibis, you now know the direction home,
though born far too late.
No longer homesick, you finally untangled it, like a rolling stone,
and blamed that simple twist of fate.
Queen Mary, still in curls, and flag unfurled,
will always remain a friend to you.
Your harmonica aches, Just like a woman child breaks,
Reminding they're all over now, those baby blues.
With hands always busy and feet always swift,
You always wished us a joyful heart.
You taught us that in love, just as in life:
Sometimes you are the artist, and sometimes you are the art.
A tribute to Bob Dylan on his birthday the 24th of May.
How I remember that song
Playing daily on the radio
Just a couple of notes
I’d instantly get shivers
And nothing else
Mattered around me
Seems I was barely twelve
I heard that saxophone
And masterful sexy voice
My knees would buckle
Realizing full well
I was hooked on a song
Praising the virtues
Of unfaithfulness and
Mystique of a love affair
I was swayed so
By that sax and sexy voice in spite of the
Unscrupulously questionable lyrics
Because really
There was nothing overly exciting
About a clandestine morning meeting
At some backwoods café
Yet that song still
Has its claws into me
And to this day
My heart skips a beat
As I buckle in spite of myself
At the charm of just a few notes
Realizing how powerless I am
Under the influence of that
Sly snake charmer
And it never gets old
There’s something
Quite magical about
How time stands perfectly still
For that one marvelously
Seductive ageless moment
Read on air by invitation ~ May 19, 2021 'WORDS & MUSIC'
AP: 1st place 2021, 3rd place 2021, Honorable Mention 2020, Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on June 1, 2018. for contest POETRY FOR THE SAKE OF POETRY sponsored by JOHN LAWLESS - RANKED 8TH
Now there's no old man sitting there,
just an empty rocking chair.
But the things he said will always be around.
The Gambler is now at rest, on a train bound for nowhere.,
and sometimes all the nights can be so long.
I've longed for love like everyone else does,
longing for shelter from all that we see.
While she lays crying, I fumble with a melody or two,
and I'm torn between the things that I should do.
It's better everyday, you've kissed my tears away,
I know I'll keep searching even after today.
I want to say I love you, forever let me wake to see you,
you have gone and made me such a fool,
won't you believe in my song?
I will find a way, find a way..you're my lady.
I'm hungry for laughter and here ever after,
I'm after whatever the other life brings.
But it won't be long I've heard them say until I'm not around,
And yes, it's true that I'm not the man I used to be.
He turned back toward the window, his faced lost all expression..
He said, "If you're gonna play the game boy, gotta learn to play it right.
That's the secret to survivin'.,know when to fold 'em.
The Gambler crushed out his cigarette..,and faded off to sleep.
Now there's no old man sitting there,
just an empty rocking chair.
But the things he said will always be around.
"Youth only happens to you one time
An so I've been told
If you should miss it in your young time
Have it when you're old" -K.R.
Kenny Rogers RIP August 21, 1938 – March 20, 2020
Yesterday, I did two things simultaneously (a red-letter day for me). I laughed at a comment from our poet, Gershon Wolf, whom we know for his sly wit and wisdom, and listened to a recording of the traditional folk ballad, Sovay, by the band Pentangle, popular in the 60's and 70's. This poem was written to that melody, but today when I read it, I'm using the melody of the Irish folk song, the Doffing Mistress. Hmm, I should add a chorus...
I looked at my inbox today,
just to see what folks might say,
and I saw, to my glad surprise,
my poem was seen by the wolfman's eyes.
Wolfy, right fol ra, Wolfy, right fol ree
Who is this wolfman? I must know -
he who leaves such a happy glow.
His observations, fun and games,
are always signed under comical names.
Wolfy, right fol ra, Wolfy, right fol ree
One thing that's plain to see,
on politics, we won't always agree,
but he reminds me all the while,
it's important to keep a smile.
Wolfy, right fol ra, Wolfy, right fol ree
Do you also check your inbox
for words from that crafty wolf or fox,
or look to see if it contains
jokes from the man of a thousand names?
Wolfy, right fol ra, Wolfy, right fol ree
Melody Lane
Andante Way
Minuet Pass
Crescendo Trail
Violins strain
Trumpets blare
Drums boom
Cymbals~ silent
The Mountain goes blank
Look up, say Thanks
Take This Stinking Keyboard And Shove It
(Tribute to Johnny Paycheck)
Take this stinking keyboard and shove it
I ain't awritin' here no damn more.
Gone is my inspiration, O' how I loved it
damn it flew right out the back door!
My muse, she done left me in a hard pinch
with another unfinished score.
Wicked her anger and she don't give an inch
no matter how hard I implore.
Last night her fleeing with my heartaches
she dared called me "poetic bore".
I write and rewrite, no matter how many takes
my poems still hit the damn floor!
So take this damn old pen and just shove it
I ain't penning here no more.
Gone is the ardor, O' how I dearly loved it
down so very deep in my core.
My muse, she done ran away all ascreamin'
raced away to a foreign shore.
This is a damn nightmare, I ain't adreamin'
never been this damn bad before!
Take this stinking keyboard and shove it
I ain't awritin' here no damn more.
Gone is my inspiration, O' how I loved it
damn it flew right out the back door!
Robert J. Lindley, 10-25-2015
Note : Tribute given to Johnny Paycheck, for his version
of , "Take This Job and Shove It" , with additional tribute
to the musical genius , singer/songwriter David Allan Coe ..
(1.)- Johnny Paycheck
Donald Eugene Lytle (May 31, 1938 – February 19, 2003),
better known by his stage name Johnny Paycheck,[1] was
an American country music singer, multi-instrumentalist
and Grand Ole Opry member most famous for recording the
David Allan Coe song "Take This Job and Shove It". He
achieved his greatest success in the 1970s as a major
force in country music's "Outlaw Movement" popularized
by artists such as David Allan Coe, Waylon Jennings,
Willie Nelson, Billy Joe Shaver, and Merle Haggard.
In the 1980s, his music career slowed for drug, alcohol
and legal problems. He served a prison sentence in the
early 1990s and his declining health effectively ended
his career in early 2000.
Jack and John
went up the hill
to make us all a'giggle
They won't calm down
and when they clown
Our bellies are a'jiggle
A lim-er-ick
will do the trick
to get us all a'laughing
they write so well
each rhyme...a spell
That gets us all guffawing
They write of "wind",
they write of poop,
Each one a silly ditty
but here's the deal
These two are real
Their writes are really witty
Now Jack and John
just banter on
and comment to each other
They like to please
Oh, how they tease
As "funnies" they uncover!!
~~~~~~The END!!!!~~~~~
For Casarah Nance's 101 contest
September 9, 2015
Yes....The END is part of the word count! ;)
Let the spotlight shine
And let the music out
Don't waste no time
I need to dance about
Singer in the spotlight
Giving his songs away
Makin' life feel just right
At least just for today
Float me off from here
I need to see the sunlight
Maybe I'm not clear
I need to get my head right
Help me out this time
Play my favorite song
Even out of time
You can't get it wrong
Singer in the spotlight
A million miles away
Makin' life feel just right
Can I hear him play
That's the very one
I can float away
Even when it's done
Another one should play
Don't take that bow
Don't go away
Do you have to leave now
We all want to play
Singer in the spotlight
Let us hear you play
Makin' life feel just right
Oh please won't you stay
The show goes down the road
May be back one day
Pay the bills I owed
Put some cash away
And when they come back 'round
Well you never can say
If my money's sound
Could be on my way
Singer in the spotlight
With his band at play
Makin' life feel just right
Never go away
dreams or illusions of living in peace and harmony
In thinking about life's problems I didn't come undone
images still float in the wind, music of the Harmonie
The magical dream of people on earth living as one
An adolescent desire of a world with a lasting peace
let us justify a bad decision to stop sowing seeds
or are we nomadic people, living like a flock of geese
Life is following the one in front, unsure of where it leads
with ideas, seeds are sown, establishing a path to peace
Can we transcend innovations, to stop following the flocks
to learn people exchanging views possibilities will increase
listening to people and stop throwing metaphoric rocks
"Yesterday, trouble was distant life a game to be played"
Our people may be gone, but our past lets us be unafraid
My angel seems far away, but memories will never fade
all dreamers, vying in the game of life will never be swayed
I still believe and long for yesterday
for Beatlemania! contest
of Heather Ober
GOLDEN OpportUNITY
KEY TO CommUNITY
Unlocks hearts and minds
To the beauty of UNITY
Where hate is dead
Love lives for eternity
And the cloud's silver lining
Beholds a GOLDEN OpportUNITY...
For UNITY.
GOLDEN OpportUNITY...
Where all religions are respected
Intolerance, injustice, soundly rejected
GOLDEN OpportUNITY...
Where all cultures are embraced
Where there's a place at the table for the whole human race
GOLDEN OpportUNITY...
Where all colors of the rainbow...
All ethnicities and creeds have a voice and a say so
GOLDEN OpportUNITY...
We renounce the sex offender
Who divides and conquers by attacking gender
GOLDEN OpportUNITY, KEY TO CommUNITY
Opens up the world
To Peace, Harmony and UNITY
Copyright 2016 Iger Rolyat All Rights Reserved
frightened trees
cannon balls fly
where teardrops fall
10.17.16
Title of the songs for each line used
Mr. Tambourine Man
Blowing In the Wind
Where Teardrops Fall
The Artist – Donny Hathaway
His voice was sweet, but he didn’t stay here long
His voice was golden; I loved all of his songs
He was smooth as silk; I loved to hear him sing
His Songs told a story, he could sing anything
He had a special rhythm; he played the piano with class
His words pierced your mind with thoughts that would last
When he hit the stage it was his time to shine
And to this day he's still my favorite of all time
Really hate he was only here a short while
Donny Hathaway was his name, I loved his style
4/15/14
You who transcend the shallow depths
Of commercial rants and ravings
You who labour, out of love
To satisfy your honourable cravings
Though some of you have fallen
At the alter that you serve
And further true, that so few of you
Have found what you deserve
For to be what you are and not what you aren't
To produce what it is and not what it wasn't
Is your only sin, your only failing
The muse of 'The Label', a banshees wailing
In your depths of despair, the weak and the strong
In your gardens of Eden your towers of song
Stay true my friends, transfixed in thought
Creative in your vision
Let not the chains of commerce
Bend your knees, in indecision
To work for pay, is not your way
Be paid for work you're doing
Enrich the World, with poem and song
Though that be your undoing
For to be what you are and not what you aren't
To produce what it is and not what it wasn't
Is your only sin, your only failing
The muse of 'The Label', a banshees wailing
In your depths of despair, the weak and the strong
In your gardens of Eden your towers of song
Today while singing
Today while I am singing,
A Song for you, O’ friends
I remember those days
When I first started - singing my songs
Under an autumn tree
Thinking that a large audience
Is all around me.
.
But often after finishing the songs
I saw no one around
To tell me I was bad or was good
By giving me
A small or a loud applause.
.
One day I noticed
A strange thing happening there
As if, the trees and the wind too
Were trying to say something to me
Every time I finished my songs
A sign of minute change was occurring
All around me.
.
Then I noticed
Every time I used to finish my songs
A bigger bunch of dry autumn leaves
Were falling from the tree
And the wind was blowing
A little noisier
While showering the fallen leaves
All around and some on me.
.
And then the story
Was crystal clear to me
The Nature was trying to tell
Don’t worry if there is no one
To hear your songs today.
.
These falling leaves and the wind
Are the applauds for you
To tell you that your song was
Wonderful.
.
With tears in my eyes today
I remember those lofty moments
When Nature supported me
To keep on
Singing and singing
Not only for those who love my songs
But also for those
Who shed their leaves
And blow its winds
To praise our songs silently.
Ravindra K Kapoor
03rd Jan. 2017