Best Vocalist Poems
Gifts
Gifts are what matter the most.
Where's the talent without its host?
Where's the paper without the pen?
What is repetition without doing again?
Where's the car without its driver?
Where's the home without the family?
Where's hope without faith?
Where's the song without the singer?
Where's the vocalist without the musician?
Where's the tune without the melody?
Where are the words without the lyrics?
Where's the music without the instrument?
Where's the orchestra without the conductor?
Where's the production without the producer?
Where's the tree without its root?
Where's the branch without the tree?
Where are the leaves without the branches?
Where are the flowers without their stems?
Where are the petals without the flower?
Where is spring without its showers?
Where is summer without heat?
Where is winter without the cold?
Where is autumn without the breeze?
Where is love without passion?
Where is affection without attraction?
Where is deed without action?
What is math without its equations?
What is a word without persuasion?
Where's a sign without indication?
Where's the line without a starting point?
What are bones without their joints?
What is a body without chemistry?
Everything has a gift.
Everything has a function.
These things work together in perfect conjunction.
Gifts, yes indeed, gifts.
YOUR LOVE
(Music & lyrics by Joan Donnelly Ellis ( for Male Vocalist )
Your love has always filled my deepest longings
Your love performs actively
What I found hard to do you managed somehow to see me through
And awakened dreams that were once only fantasy
You're a work of art my living Mona Lisa
You're the mountain top a trumpet's claim of victory
You're the solid ground beneath my feet
The wind that launches a fleet of ships that sail with the best in life for you and me
Chorus:
You've given me loyalty, treated me like royalty
Even during the times when the opposite was due , ou-ou-whoo
Then you amaze me by asking wild and crazy questions like .
Why am I so in love with you
Verse 2:
No your love hasn't always provided what I wanted
But when it come to needs as if by magic you'd supply
Then you tell all of our friends to you I'm like Heaven's angel on lend
When I fall you rush to my defence with logical alibi
Repeat Chorus :
The Doors of perception
maverick swinging carefree
to billboard hits in
rock’s american counterculture
face of the sixties
vocalist Jim Morrison
steering to the pulse of free love
in the heat of Los Angeles
riders on the storm
Loving madly an L.A. woman
parading Gloria absolutely live
rocking to roadhouse blues
in front of the Morrison Hotel
forever longing for the sun
he’d say to touch me and light my fire
People are strange
fame and money
up in flames
it’s a shame
gone in a flash
Booze and partying
taken too far
age twenty seven
life of a rock star
No one here gets out alive
like so many others
joined the 27 Club
buried now in northeastern Paris
true to his own spirit
where he belongs
in the Poets’ Corner
Read on air by invitation ~ July 10, 2020 'LATE NIGHT POETS'
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Submitted on June 28, 2020 for contest STRAND COMPLETELY NEW POETRY (2) sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - HONORABLE MENTION
GIVE ME SOME TRUTH
John, was born October 9, 1940, in Liverpool
He met Paul McCartney in 1957
John and Paul formed a close working relationship ... COME TOGETHER
Young and fearless guys with music as the common interest
Over time, it became a REVOLUTION
When we talk about John Lennon, his name associates with The Beatles
With members John Lennon, Paul McCartney,
George Harrison and Ringo Starr
WELL, WELL, WELL in the music world it became POWER TO THE PEOPLE
John left The Beatles in September 1969, a new TICKET TO RIDE
CLEANUP TIME for the skilled songwriter, vocalist and guitarist
- He would continue as a solo artist BLESS YOU
I became LUCY IN THE SKY WITH DIAMONDS when I listened to his music
LIVING IS EASY WITH EYES CLOSED, sounded so beautiful
NOBODY TOLD ME, that John was actually a heavy drug user
IT'S SO HARD ... to deal with
ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE, greatest of all is love
IMAGINE, John and me in the NORWEGIAN WOOD
STARTING OVER, a new life in my home country
MOTHER ... HERE WE GO AGAIN ... I was in love
GROW OLD WITH ME John,
happiness is a word that tastes sweet in my mouth
Together with you, the song begins to find the right sound
STRAWBERRY FIELDS FOREVER
I AM THE WALRUS - a stupid young girl who dreams
NOBODY LOVES YOU (When You're Down And Out)
John lived on BORROWED TIME,
bitter rivals and demons sparkle in the air
I feel lonely ... and I'M SO TIRED
MOTHER said : YOU GOT TO HIDE YOUR LOVE AWAY
... YA YA
Song titles by John Lennon, listed below :
GIVE ME SOME TRUTH
COME TOGETHER
REVOLUTION
WELL, WELL, WELL
POWER TO THE PEOPLE
TICKET TO RIDE
CLEANUP TIME
BLESS YOU
LUCY IN THE SKY WITH DIAMONDS
LIVING IS EASY WITH EYES CLOSED
NOBODY TOLD ME
IT'S SO HARD
ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE
IMAGINE
NORWEGIAN WOOD
STARTING OVER
MOTHER
HERE WE GO AGAIN
GROW OLD WITH ME
STRAWBERRY FIELDS FOREVER
I AM THE WALRUS
NOBODY LOVES YOU (When You're Down And Out)
BORROWED TIME
I'M SO TIRED
YOU GOT TO HIDE YOUR LOVE AWAY
YA YA
04.04.2018
Sun :) A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
In da Big Easy
sipping on our Hurricanes
wandering to who-cares-where
Pass an old court-yard
Meters playing 'Cissy Strut'
Funk echoes down Bourbon Street...
*Art Neville (The Neville Brothers) was the organist and founder of the Meters. 'Cissy Strut' was their biggest hit. They reunited for a Katrina benefit concert with Aaron Neville as a guest vocalist
Below are are the links to the song and ‘They All Axed (Asked) For You’ which has become a Mardi Gras classic
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4_iC0MyIykM
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S1Vi795Wduc
A sea of heads stretches out into the distance
The vast stage is set with banks of massive speakers
Two giant screens will reflect the performers every movement
The lights dim and the crowd erupts in ecstasy
The drummer begins his rhythmic pulse, which echoes throughout the arena
Guitars twang and the vocalist grabs the microphone and belts out the lyrics
My body rocks rhythmically – then a ripple shoots across my abdomen
Kick, kick, kick, kick, kick
It is relentless, with every drum beat my little one kicks in harmony
The music stops to rapturous applause and cheering
My baby rests too… and I breathe a sigh of relief
Then the music starts, the kick, kick, kick, cycle continues
It never ceases throughout the whole two-hour concert
Finally the music stops and the band leave the stage
ENCORE, ENCORE the audience chants…
but I want it all to end, I can take no more!
The bands dashes back onto stage
Once again the crowd erupts with wolf whistling, screaming and cheering
Two more tracks and all the lights in the stadium flicker into life
The crowd flows out of the arena - a river of happy faces
Contest: The Concert Craig Cornish
05~25~15
This is a true account of a rock concert I attended when I was 8 months pregnant – it is not the best gig I ever went to BUT it is the most memorable … and my son grew up to adore rock music!
It begins in the neurons of the brain
It ends in the stained wall most often
But pardon him for it just skids excitedly
From nowhere as a gentle serpent
Creeping slowly by the ladies' room
Now despise the grinning thespian
Mock the laughing orator
Curse the chuckling poet
Execrate the smirking vocalist and the painter as well
For they are a bunch of angelic maniacs like the rest of Adam's clan
Who strive to reach the occasional peaks in artistic modes
Now it's wet!
I was once listening to a song,
the vocalist was a woman,
and she sang her song in her native foreign tongue.
I didn't understand a single word that she sang,
yet I was moved to tears, I felt her pain.
Once I was listening
to a symphonic classical orchestration,
it may have been Beethoven, it may have been Brahms.
It was all instrumental, not one word was sang,
yet I found myself moved to tears once again,
without a single word sang suggesting anything,
proving to me that music is a universal language,
whether it is sang or instrumentally performed.
Music can truly touch anyone in its many varied forms,
..or maybe this is just a symptom of my chronic depression.
He had an aspiration for greatness that could have turned into realized dreams;
he headed to New York City with shining booths and tight, faded blue-jeans.
" He's a real Texan cowboy! " someone shouted in the noisy athmosphere...
he accidentaly heard that with delight, and it sounded very pleasant to his ear;
he had a tremendous talent and he hated to waste it on Broadway's streets.
" He's a real Texan cowboy! " someone shouted in the noisy athmosphere...
he headed to New York City with shining booths and tight, faded blue-jeans;
he had an aspiration for greatness that could have turned into realized dreams.
"There are things known and things
unknown and in between are the Doors."
Quote by Jim Morrison, Lead singer of the Doors
(American singer, songwriter and poet)
____________________
Jim Morrison, lived a melancholy short life brilliant,
he left us suddenly and is still loved to this very day;
he was the lead vocalist for the rock band The Doors,
oh, they created magical music with amazing instrumentals.
And always, always the haunting beautiful voice of Jim Morrison . . .
He was only twenty-seven when taken and his father had inscribed,
on his headstone- True to his own Spirit- in Greek, how fitting;
still there is a constant shower of flowers at his grave site.
in Pere Lachaise Cemetery, Paris France and visitors still gather round.
The life of a rock star is chaotic, mind-bending and outlandish,
and stressed- Jim left us with notebooks full of his poetic words;
and The Doors most beloved song ever- Riders On The Storm,
so beautifully haunting and soothing although truthfully dark.
Rest in peace, Jim Morrison, thrown into this world and,
taken from it way too soon . . . and missed forever.
John 14: 2 "In my Father's house are many mansions; if it were not so,
I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you."
___________________________
April 23, 2019
Poetry/Elegy/Rider On The Storm
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1136-969-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Writer's On The Storm
sponsor, Chantelle Anne Cooke
First Place
// This is my tribute to the many blessings that music brings to our
lives. I know many of you share this enthusiasm and gratitude. //
Appreciating an amazing artform: allegro, andante, or adagio -
Bach, Beethoven, Brahms: beautiful berceuse, ballad, and bolero
Classical concertos and Christmas chorales crescendo concordantly
Dancers delight to dizzying drums and delectable dynamics
Ensemble eloquently emotes euphonic etudes and elegies
Flautist fluttertongues flute in frenzied fantasia or fantastic fugue
Guitar gallivants through gavotte, graced by glockenspiel glissandos
Heavenly hymns, happily harmonized, hearkening hearty hallelujahs
Improvising instruments inspiring in impromptu inventions,
Jovial jazz juxtaposition of jubilant, jamming jitterbugs
Kalimba keeps count as keyboardist kinetically caresses keys
Love song lullabys - lilting, legato lines of luxuriant, longing lyrics
Minuet melodies and madrigals marking mellifluous motifs
Nutcracker's necklace of nourishing notes: a nighttime nocturne
Orchestra's opulent overture opus, oratorio's operatic octet
Pianist plays presto pianissimo pitches in pulsing pizzicato perfection
Quartets and quintets on a quest for quality quiescent quarter notes
Romantic rhapsody rhythms resonate as rock 'n roll reverberates
Symphonies and sonatas send spine shivers, saxophone solos soar
Tenor troubadours tremolo in tempo as trumpet thrills with trills
Utopia of unassuming ukuleles unwinding in unison
Voluptuous violin vibrato, virtuoso vocalist, vivace vintage vibraphone
Well-tempered woodwinds wield wonderful waltzes worth whistling
Xylophone eXudes eXcitement in eXquisite eXtemporaneity
Yearning for youthfulness, you yodel "Yesterday"
Zesty zither anyone?
A BAND AND A DANCER SO GRAND
“Shall we dance,” the lady asked ever so politely
And oh how the lady danced ever so lightly
It was as if she hovered an inch above the floor
And I never enjoyed dancing with a lady more
I begged the band to belabor the point
For it was the music the woman would anoint
She baptized the band like sanctified oil
And to the lady all of us became forever loyal
She took to the tile, a temptress, my muse
And when she asked for more no man could refuse
The brass played with class while the flute wasn’t mute
And her elegance was a fact God Himself couldn’t refute
My eyes beheld the majestic majesty of grace
And simply holding the lovely lady made my heart race
She danced me into a dream of loveliness and lace
While the band grew jealous of what was in my embrace
Her gracefulness begot beauty and grandeur so bright
While the vocalist sang something about undying delight
But then I heard four words thcat dimmed every light
When the M.C. announced 'this is the final dance of the night”
© 2013 coyright PHREEPOEREE…..~free cee!~
The etiquette of the night stands by the curtain with contentment
Picture of crawling crickets hectic body of voters colored
The darkness of imagination manipulates to dark our constitution to
constituency zone
The constant condemnation is an umbrella shared values and norms to the
nomadic.
The beauty of the night capsule of wants design to distract us from total
focus to guilty vocalist
The color of the house depicted in my imagination to beach goers like
garland escalation
Invitation of writers to describe the time of inspiration in their billions
of years of thinking
He never promised to witness the nasty sound of owl's cry as the village
hope hurt the messiah of serenity to conch sound
The tone of choir band collapsing to entertains the onlookers that never
involved in evolution epithet morning
Despite diction are sweet, but they never describe my pain as much as they
fulfilled the desires of your organs that whet my appetite to the smells of
an apple
Bend before your wife to appreciate her apple smile with broken grin to the
aggrandizement to the scent of your taste
My diary dramatize the pompous idea where conviction contends to
convulsion and it dash to my border of thinking.
"When I was a kid my dad left me in a bad way .... he was
in the lives of my sisters and brothers but he wasn't in mine."
Quote by - Beth Hart
Her voice has an innate, inborn, visceral grittiness
dusty, raspy, raw with emotions of pain, aching, torment
and agony, an unstained contralto deep and low, and you
get lost in her voice, gliding on the waves of life with her
her name, Beth Hart, an American blues musician and singer
Born in 1972, Elizabeth (Beth) Hart is from California, USA
at 4 years old she played the piano concentrating on classical
music, like Bach and Beethoven but as she got older she
was playing artists like Etta James, Otis Redding, and Led Zeppelin
she has a magical voice like Janis Joplin and Tina Turner combined
As a young teen she was singing in open mic nights
and was playing clubs at fifteen, in 1993 band search she won
best female vocalist but her success went nowhere as she
became drug addicted, she spent all her winnings and hit bottom
even spent time in a psych ward for bi-polar and drug addiction
Beth has had ups and downs and she managed to have lots of hits
too many to list in this poem, but there are many hits that I fav
like LA Song, Don't Explain, Am I The One and many, many more
she collaborated with Joe Bonamassa and went on tour with him
and together they had hits, she also collaborated with Jeff Beck
Beth controls her addictions with religion and meditation now.
Joe said in an interview," I am totally knocked out by Beth. Here
is a lady who's acting like I'm the cool one and meanwhile I'm thinking
Man, she's got it all ... the next Janis Joplin . . the real deal, you know."
Random lyrics
War In My Mind
by Beth Hart
hollerin' all the time
black in my soul
and its ugly when I cry
there is a war in my soul
blood on the wall
hiding
making love to the
war in my mind
_____________________
May 09, 2023
Poetry/Bio/It's Ugly When I Cry
Copyright Protected, ID 05-1546-229-09
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
Written for the Premiere contest, Beth Hart Inspiration
sponsor, Robert James Liguori, Judged05/09/2023
First Place
Floating Market on the River
A Thailand tradition
Large sun umbrellas
And boat roofs or hoods
And Asian conical hats
A bucket of cracked brown egg shells
A grandma quickly whips up
Egg, oyster and fresh, crisp bean sprout
In rice flour batter
Raw and cooked food
Vendors sell garden produce
And cooked food
Prepared right before one’s eyes
Plantain, banana, bean sprouts
Breadfruit
Coconut sugar, syrup and fresh coconut
Poof- a cloud of smoke surround the cook
Another vendor grills meat on skewers
She makes chicken, liver and sticky rice
Tart and sweet star fruit
Steamed sticky rice, coconut milk , sugar and banana inside its leaf
A sweet Thailand tamale
A live band: saxophonist, keyboardist and vocalist plays for donations
Fried quell egg
Fresh and dried spices
Fresh and dried sea food: shrimp, fish
Grilled scallop
Cooked noodles
Cooked squid, prawn, crab and fish
Green papaya salad
Boat brewed coffee
Soda pop
Distilled water
Tea
Beer
Blood cake
Pork
Rice noodles
Marckincia Jean
Free verse
09/30/19