If 9 were 6 and 6 were 9,
Everything would be just fine.
Ballgames wouldn't take quite so long,
Fewer clouds needed for a feeling so strong.
The Revolution's number wouldn't be so high,
And we'd sleep a bit deeper after we die.
But cats would have to be more careful,
And rolling dice would be less cheerful.
I suppose it wouldn't be a universal fix,
To make 6 into 9 and 9 into 6.
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
Tonight,
I had a date with the mountain
Tonight,
I made those promises impend
Tonight,
behind the shadow of my fear
Tonight
—the devil smiled at me again
(Seattle Washington: March, 2017)
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”
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 s--- left behind
abstractions melodically rhythmic to rock
these tracks take me to that door
where I pray someone will answer
let me enter the blues of their world and see
why such beauty had to end
Tonight,
I had a date with the mountain
Tonight,
I made those promises impend
Tonight,
behind the shadow of my fear
Tonight,
—the devil smiled at me again
(Seattle Washington: ‘Something For Jimi’
March, 2017)
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 him to leave
(Many other galaxies to visit ya know)
However, I MAY have some good news
There’s an outside chance he may return
When he thinks we are ready…
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 supply.
Guided by his artistic soul,
The frets…fretted to that day.
Captured by a recording device,
Were the anthems…that we replay.
What began in London ended in London,
In the same lonely…workplace room.
He was here that day, then gone the next,
In the blink of an eye, he was gone too soon.
Author’s note: (This poem is true. Nothing in it is falsified or purposely omitted, even to
protect the guilty. Written one day that I had to take a z pak and some crazy cough
medicine (prescribed).)
Here I sit, sick in bed,
With Jimi Hendrix swirling in my head.
Such anarchistic style,
Topped off with a fetching smile.
Talent beyond the norm,
But his life turned into the Perfect Storm.
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!
Made my name in Monterey
BB,Muddy ,the key to how I play;
Bell bottom fashion was my thing,
Little Richard was my king
like his voice,my guitar sings.
Inspired by Raul's latest photo
Excuse me while I kiss the sky
Seeking answers – why’d Jimi die?
Perhaps it was the Burning of the Midnight Lamp
Hey Joe! Don’t know? Revisit his amp
Purple Haze shrouded by mystery
Woodstock legend resounds in history
Vietnam veteran’s soulful, haunting cry
Excuse me while I kiss this guy
* Written for Raul's Jimi Hendrix challenge
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
Discovered so young
waiting for nothing, but found
love the little things
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