Gig Poems - Poems about Gig

The recent, decent, authorised remaster - now deeper, fuller, meaningfully vaster, it’s done its fifty years – this one’s a laster! I don’t care if you’re reggaeton or Rasta, you worship Satan, Seti, Zoroaster - just play this baby for your priest or pastor – it’s early Fleetwood Mac, but cooler, faster – so get it grooving on your ghetto blaster! Abandon Grand...

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I binge watch t shows If I like the characters They become family I have sat in my recliner for hours Clicking next episode over and over This is a new hobby for me Relaxing in a whole new way I have no idea how this can be my new life But retirement is a different gig I like it...

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The Abba clones were about to perform Suddenly Bob felt his feet wet and warm Anna screamed "diarrhea!" Mum yelled "mamma mia" While their pug pup hid inside its fly swarm Pip had gifted the gig wet smelly poop Made Anna gag as she shoveled each scoop At an abnormal level A proud deed for this devil For its contents were like newt eye...

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The gig is up, his fine wife said I know you've been cheating on me My feelings may not matter to you but I shall not a laughingstock be So here are your things, all of your stuff You're never to come here again ...

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The pole is slick there's a smell emanating from the toilets body odor and a thick male musk in the smoky air. I'm not here to gawp at the dancer just bar tend. The floor is sticky, the glasses dirty, the canned music sleazy. It's not a classy joint. Nobody tips, not many drink, the head of the skinny manager materializes from around a drape. The...

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bright colored feathers dancing romancing red cheer wig a gig heart big...

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We're nearing the end of another year But this one feels different than before As we mourn our heroines and hero's Hearts of family and friends are sore There's Eddy, Pete and Peter Green They're guitarists in their own way Lost to the Great Gig in the Sky Amidst those twenty twenty days Barbara Martin, Reddy and Tonka Whom have played to many a...

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Without a break they launched into their next song, one that sang about war in the sky and described old flying machines that didn’t exist anymore. Angie waved her hands around like a devil and on long song notes held out her hands and closed her eyes, dreaming of what her song described. Nodding her...

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Her band was made up of many cool members. Cecil on drums; he wore a cut down decades old Sisters of Mercy t-shirt bought from Jason, old blue jeans and scuffed boots. Jason noticed this and elbowed Craig in the ribs and drunkenly grinned to his mate, “That’ll do wonders for my business!” On bass...

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They stormed through their set that was made up of songs each ten minutes long - they did just two! What a musical journey it was. Fast aggressive heavy music the quickest human beings could play and then slow monotonous rhythms that lulled the audience to sleep, followed up by loud aggressive music to wake...

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She went looking for a scare But what was she gonna wear A pink tank top From the discount shop Was she going to be coming from class? Frustrated since grades may not pass Maybe it was the need to be a beauty From the lone photographer doing their duty There could be the character worried...

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I first heard of you In the hot heat of ’88 I was in love My world full of bliss. But the love Died on the vine And I was lost And alone but I had The songs of the Beehive to protect me. I’ve been to your city With my friends I’ve walked your earth And yes, it’s my home, My only home. I’ve been the lover, The...

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T'Pau Gig Music mattered greatly to me My first gig was in March 1988 I saw T'Pau at Manchester Apollo The bouncers were s Moving me from down to upstairs But it was fine my band was there They were an awesome rock band With a hot red haired singer Of course I wanted to bonk her Their songs rocked my head I listened to them...

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If you fortune a tangent, You’ll get a stash, A rill of crescents pageant, Old and holding the gash. Perception not able, The dynamo dies in the land, Normal cable to stable, The bearings of negates and hand. Piercings whisper through the ears, Wheat quakes to sliver rum, Dermis exhalted the overdraft years, The pollination riffed the drum. Chrysanthemum sung to oak, To know the structure is of...

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There once was a character named Eli Who really loved the fourth of July He thought he was a stud His fireworks were a dud So he got a new gig and moved to Thai 7-5-19 Alexis Y * Happy Belated Fourth Of July...

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