It was Betty and Veronica
who asked Archie to play the harmonica
turned out the sound was so bad
that they rushed to replace him with grandad
Categories:
harmonica, fun, grandfather, music,
Form: Clerihew
Next year I’ll learn to play the harmonica.
Hoping to produce such a mellifluous strain,
In my sturdy hands, I’ll practice every day,
It would not be easy, but worth the pain.
A harmonica emits a life by itself,
Of journeys and skies so blue.
Of stories describing great deeds,
That echo all around like birds that flew.
And in the soft breeze, many will dance.
Beneath the stars that twinkle in the glow.
A special sonata of heartfelt wishes,
Assuming I’ll manage two or three notes in a row.
Placed 1
Categories:
harmonica, music,
Form: Rhyme
he's a sweet harmonica home Joe
soft steel raven, bending blues
dripping honey from her spoon
nothing quite says melancholy
like a harp in cupping wah-wah glow
for endless grooves, a winding show
playing Take Me Home Country Road
and Lennon's riff in Love Me Do
with gracious silk, a satin throw
a trip to the moon in a single note
around the cosmos, her kiss, I know
our love, warm lips, harmonica Joe
Categories:
harmonica, fun, home, introspection, life,
Form: Rhyme
playing reveries,
the childish harmonica
of the young ancient ...
Categories:
harmonica, allegory, allusion, childhood, dream,
Form: Senryu
My harmonica cries,
in tones of silver sighs and golden tears;
wailing bittersweet joy.
Sound of sadness; sound of laughter;
it’s in the wailing that color blooms.
Mouth-harp memories fill many family albums.
Circle of breath, circle of life;
winding in and out; among the reeds.
As we all wind down life’s road.
Diatonic monotones blending with
chromatic colors of sharps and flats;
my harmonica sings the music of diversity;
notes in keys of primary colors and unending shades.
12-8-19
Your Best New Poem Poetry Contest
Emile Pinet
Categories:
harmonica, music, poems, poetry, sound,
Form: Free verse
Play a sad song for me harmonica man
My mood is bummed out, I feel second hand
Keep it smooth but no high note
My mood is low, I will only gloat.
Let the song remind me of a love I lost
I’ll pay you well whatever the cost
so much like ‘love story’ crying on my pillow
I am lovesick like a weeping willow.
The saving of hope is futile, it’s stifling me
Play harmonica man until you can see
my heart shedding the memories to get thru
snuffing the past to let life become new
Categories:
harmonica, sad love,
Form: Rhyme
My harmonica cries,
in tones of silver sighs and golden tears;
wailing bittersweet joy.
Sound of sadness; sound of laughter;
it’s in the wailing that color blooms.
Mouth-harp memories fill many family albums.
Circle of breath, circle of life;
winding in and out; among the reeds.
As we all wind down life’s road.
Diatonic monotones blending with
chromatic colors of sharps and flats;
my harmonica sings the music of diversity;
notes in keys of primary colors and unending shades.
Categories:
harmonica, appreciation, music, poems, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Metronome heart beats in 4/4 time while mandolin chimes in staccato voice. In the background, guitar hums and banjo sings. Bluegrass echoes across southern winds; blues and mountain music force a dance from tranquil feet; it’s a concert fit for country royalty, at the Opry. The East coast clogs and smiles.
On the rolling winds,
Echo strains of the southland;
Gaia’s toe tapping.
Categories:
harmonica, fun, guitar, happy, inspiration,
Form: Haibun
I take great delight in melodies and song,
my harmonica is always with me now.
I play a happy tune and my heart sings long,
then for the people who clap I make a bow.
To play for other's pleasure is never wrong,
for accomplishing this I have made a vow.
Their smiles and laughs give me pay enough to last,
our world of merriment is very deep and vast.
Categories:
harmonica, music,
Form: Rhyme
with a crescent palm
held against his lips,
he sends a silver psalm
into the wind-
the timbre, so frail
sails through a crimson sky
then falls into the valley
a valley so low---
"hear the wind whisper,
hear the wind blow...
down through the valley,
where it must go"....
upward it goes
on a smooth silver thread
till the thin-quaver ends
where the red river flows
___________________________________
6/25/17 (Based on the song "Red River Valley")
Categories:
harmonica, music, sunset,
Form: Free verse
We can’t catch the breezes inside,
so we take to the porches, verandas, fire escapes.
Watch an asbestos moon rise
over steaming rooftops,
and count flags from far away cities.
Below, beetles swallow our Elm trees whole,
as I listen to the neighbors bickering
and someone else’s harmonica.
Categories:
harmonica, girlfriend-boyfriend, introspection, life, love,
Form: Free verse
He plays his harmonica on the street.
Playing for money for something to eat.
So much love goes in his tunes
He plays from morning to late afternoon.
Night falls he has no where to sleep
His stomach is growling he had nothing to eat.
The night is cold he needs rest
Using cardboard boxes to make a nest.
He says his prayers closes his eyes
Alone in the world he dies.
Won`t someone care won`t someone weep?
Another homeless person dies in the street.
Doesn`t matter if your black or white.
Nowhere to go so alone ghostlike.
Categories:
harmonica, death, life, people,
Form: Dramatic Verse