Hart Poems - Poems about Hart

Be Santa For One Night, Hart

Verse I:
He always sits under
a flowery Willow Tree
and dreams of flying a reindeer
over quite Boulder City;
the torrid Nevada heat doesn't make him sweat,
he drinks beer, never takes off his cow-boy hat!

Chorus:
Be Santa for one night, Hart
and make kids happy,
bring them a new toy...
while they jump and shout!

Verse II:
His brown horse drinks 
water from the desert

Hart Island

When night calls moaning winds to come
‘midst chilling currents from the Sound
Hart Island’s hidden souls rest from
life’s heartaches known above the ground. 

Come hear the raven’s haunting cries
as slanting shadows overtake 
to grip forgotten graves that lie
in scattered fields’ neglected state. 

An ancient tarnished bell is rung
by nothing save the wailing winds
its clanging haunts, it’s

Hart Crane

I have stood beneath your Bridge
and marveled at the music
being whispered in its wires.
I saw America flash pass
on your train riding west,
a kaleidoscopic rush of signs
knitted into a vision too large
to hold in one mind.
You drowned in its immensity.
Through the taut miles
of shuttling, the wind
still murmurs
your timeless prayers.

Joe Bonamassa and Beth Hart

As whirlwinds in the musicscape that blow so wild,
The duo sang, played guitar, and albums compiled;
Both rocked like vigorous rocks in a rough earthquake,
Their unbreakable records they only did break...!

Played and sang at their very tender childhood age,
Like tornados they shook many a music stage;
Joseph Bonamassa, at only twelve, did plan,
Smokin' Joe Bonamassa - his

Beth Hart

She missed out on music lessons as a child.
Her parents taught her piano, which was so mild.
For years, she worked poorly and was lackluster.
And quit piano as a preteen as she couldn't muster.

She preferred Brian May over Freddie Mercury.
Elton John fan, she felt the piano music was a nursery.
She should have taught the guitar, yet

Beth Hart

Her pink okra fingers play violoncello,
Rises from her harmonic throat songs so mellow;
Is she a swallow? A skylark? A Nightingale?
Or the Greek goddess Calliope's sweet-sounding tale...?

An amalgamation of Bach and Beethoven,
Splays open, in and through her, like a vast ocean;
Piano, cello, bass guitar, and percussion,
Her heart and hands try all with perfect precision...!

Venomous feelings of

Emagi Hart Crane- the Bridge'

.  ||  .                                         .||.
        . 

Wild Thing You Make My Heart Sing

We have gone to the Kruger Park, and are now back,
All roads there are paved,
But for adventure, you can drive along very doable
Sand roads, the crocodile river runs parallel to
These sand roads and if you are lucky you can spot 
Hippos Or Crocs, which we did see.
Animals during the day go to drink there and

My Dream of Beth Hart

In my dream I wandered into a basement piano bar because someone told me it was the secret place to get great waffles. Sitting at the piano was Beth Hart crooning sorrowful songs, no other accompaniment, just Beth and a piano. It was like this tattooed lass just wandered down the stairs and sat down

Only Yesterday

ONLY YESTERDAY

Looking ahead through
A dirty pane of glass,
I remember yesterday,
The old man on the bench,
A drenched French
Loaf of bread, forgotten
Beside an empty 
Bottle of wine,
Half asleep in the cold
His hair whipping
Beating his face
The rain harsh, 
Dripping from his
Bent head,
One shoe was gone
His naked foot
Swollen and red,
He had no bed,
No one to care,
On Planet Earth's realm
About

Poems About Poets Vi

Poems about Poets VI

beMused
Michael R Burch

Perhaps at three
you'll come to tea,
to have a cuppa here?

You'll just stop in
to sip dry gin?
I only have a beer.

To name the greats:
Pope, Dryden, mates?
The whole world knows their names.

Discuss the songs
of Emerson?
But these are children's games.

Give me rhythms
wild as Dylan’s!
Give me Bobbie Burns!

Give me Psalms
or Hopkins’ poems,
Hart Crane’s, if

Pearl Hart

Pearl Hart was Canadian Born,
And she put her poor parents to test.
She met and fell for a ne'er-do-well gambler,
Who eventually took her out west.

Inspired and enamored by the strong women there,
And the heroes and Wild West legends,
She mustered the courage to leave her man,
Took a train and Colorado befriended.

She gave birth to a son who

Key To My Hart

You hold the key to my hart now and forevermore 
Yet I know your hearts been broken but I hope I'm the cure 
For my love for you runs deep and that will never change
I'd move mountains for you and my life I'd rearrange 
So why cant you love me the way I love you

'n Hart Van Goud

Ek was gevra om ietsie oor Pa te sê
Maar waar begin ek nou
Wanneer daar eintlik net een ding is wat ek nou wil doen
Om steeds my arms om Pa te vou

Maar nou is Pa weg
Na ‘n plek waar Pa tog graag wou wees
Bo by Liewe Jesus
Maar bly steeds hier by ons in gees

‘n Man met

Mind Games

I was in love with him,
Without any particular reason or logic behind,
Just pure love. I blame the chemistry and the pheromones. 
I don’t know what he felt about me, and I didn’t care about that.
I just loved him. Full stop.

He loved to play mind games with me,
And with all other poor little women who fell

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