Hendrix Poems - Poems about Hendrix

Tho' right-handed instruments the two do play yet one is downside up left-handed musicians both are they or seem to sup from a similar southpaw cup and if you follow the trail of crumbs they lead to Jimi the Starr of guitar and stick to Ringo the Hendrix of drums ...

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Voodoo Chili Blues Hendrix is in the house Hear my train a’comin We are rocking too hard to grouse Let’s set this guitar on fire! And sing the Catfish blues. Time is precious to this artist. So young! His life to lose!...

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Bare are these walls... I now stand before, that were once adorned with picture frames. The brown boxes are loaded, and these frames of which I speak wait within. The door frame, the frame of the home, the borders that surround my garden, and the walkways I meander in the mornings, frame my memories, of a time once not bounded. And time... the time...

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Hate is Love You did everything And I only let you know When it was wrong Anger builds Fights happen Hate is everything I hate you And you left You did everything And I never let you know it When you were right Happiness is around us Life is good Love is everything I love you Please come back Inspired by Jimi Hendrix’s “The Wind Cries Mary”...

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days that brought me to worship sounds of deity echoing through my room music that deftly captured my ears and dreams all we needed to release the discomfort of war and plastic cages was the experience of his Fender Strat the feedback from that Marshall amp her Big Momma Thornton howls Ball and Chain, Ball and Chain long may we love the real...

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My Jimmy Hendrix stamps are colorful. They are not mine, for I cannot buy them, but I will use them in my mind just the same Whenever I wish to...

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James was pretty good at his job Left- handed nonetheless Most thought it was not music The kids just could not care less. The feedback always washed him clean The crowds breathed purple haze. At 27, he died on Paisley satin sheen Too much talent, he just ran out of days....

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He came from a distant galaxy On his way to planet Earth, he stopped over to visit Mars but didn’t like the atmosphere No clubs, outdoor concerts or studios and just a few microscopic life forms, thus the audiences were rather sparse They were rather small-minded as well and did NOT appreciate his music… He couldn’t stay here very long either The Polaris Council advised...

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Electric poems reverberated, Within the walls of a London abode. A psychedelic haze fueled the gift, That a creative heart was bestowed. Far from his broomstick days, Passionate strums…electrified the room. Emphasizing the pain from within, Recalling the days he strummed the broom. Acid rock...illuminated the winding path, That led his creative heart to fly. Good intentions laced by corrosive thoughts, Inspired the work…from his daily...

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J imi, a talented guitarist I n the world of Rock M ade young girls cry I n his world, how he shined! H ard wired to play E arly love for guitars N ever found Nirvana D ying each day, endless pain R iding strings of his music I n his mind, demons taunted X iting too soon, young legend!...

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From the Festival at Monterey Through Woodstock and his anthem play His Experience and Band of Gypsys days To his icon hit, Purple Haze We remember Jimi even today His wah-wah pedal and feedback ways It’s so sad that he ended his days Far too young to hear the praise. Entry in the Jimi Hendrix contest...

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Discovered so young waiting for nothing, but found love the little things...

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