Long George harrison Poems
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My pulse is high and the heart beats double punch
Paul McCartney, George Harrison, John Lennon, Ringo Starr
Music, lyrics, melody in beautiful harmony
"Love me do" ..... yes, it feels like love ....
Strawberries crown in my hair with the boys
"Strawberry Fields Forever"
Quite a sweet dream ... "All You Need Is Love" .....
Paul, George, John and Ringo sings "Is not She Sweet"
I lose my breath, this must be "Real Love"
"Penny Lane" ..... Who is "Penny Lane"
"Please Please Me" - feel a little tired - "A Hard Day's Night"
"Help" they are behaving like "Bad Boy"
"Abbey Road" is a nice place .... but, "Let It Be"
I'm going home with a "Yellow Submarine"
"Cry For A Shadow"
28.10.2013 A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Sponsor Rhonda Johnson Saunders
Contest Name Beatlemania!
Born into a landscape,
Not quite littered with landmines,
But the occasional hole -
Holes that seem inescapable,
Like quicksand -
When I fall, I just keep falling.
Where is the bottom, the nadir?
It's impossible to know.
It's impossible to get out,
Like being captured in a whirlpool,
My only direction is in and down.
Like a lost spider in a toilet bowl
When it's flushed.
A vicious cycle -
The only direction is down and in.
I live in fear of these holes.
Above ground,
I find friends and pleasures,
Challenges and detractors,
But nothing I can't handle.
Once I fall in,
And approach the vortex,
I'm hopeless.
There is no pleasure.
My friends don't understand.
There is no way out.
There is no bottom.
I can only fall -
In and down.
Yet, I'm living proof
That one can escape.
Perhaps, I began in a kind of vicious cycle
A cycle of anger,
A cycle of hate.
Cycles upon cycles,
Round and round,
With no escape.
Tit for tat,
It seems such cycles
Can only deepen.
But, somehow, I got out.
It took time.
Like George Harrison said,
"All things must pass".
A few times, I fell in love.
It was like being pulled into a vortex,
Without choice.
My heart was broken.
Somehow, I got out.
It took time.
All things must pass.
Once, suddenly,
My health was dealt a blow,
Resulting in physical pain,
Sending me,
Down, down, down.
I thought I could never get out.
I still have the health problem,
But I'm out of the hole.
It took time.
All things must pass.
Once, suddenly,
I lost my girlfriend.
I lost my job.
I lost my house.
I lost my family.
The ground under me was removed,
I found myself with strangers
on Christmas day.
Even there, I was unwelcome.
And I fell down, down, down.
But I'm out of the hole.
It took time.
All Things Must pass.
I live in fear of these holes,
And I think I'm pretty good at avoiding them,
But there is no guarantee,
And I never know
When I will fall
down, down, down.
I'm sure many people
Have likewise fallen deep
Into seemingly hopeless
vicious cyclic whirlpools
Of despair.
I wonder,
If even whole societies,
Can suffer
Vicious cycles,
Tit for tat,
Of of hate, hopelessness, ignorance,
And despair,
And, if so,
One day, this too,
Shall pass.
Written: May 5th, 2025, for contest by Brian Strand
Painting by Peter Doig. A concise abstract on Abbey Road and its pivotal moment. He subsequently produced outstanding music. His music resembled pleasant dew cascading as melodic notes, like honey smeared on leavened bread.
******************
George Harrison
moving toward a liquid abyss
after Abbey Road--
where no sunlight can seep into the hall
surrounding the mirrored pool
he draws the guitar strings
with notched arrows
tipped in flint
striking sparks
like match heads ignited
on concrete sidewalks
during the golden hour
heavy with humid
condensation
coating every surface
with sweet dew
musical notes drip down
like honey spread
on warm yeasty bread
1)www.wikiart.org/en/joaqu-n-sorolla/church-roncal-stairs by
2)www.artgeek.io/exhibitions/5bfdb7a272a1460a46f77fab/5bfdb7a272a1460a46f77faa by T. C. Cannon
3)www.wikiart.org/en/johannes-vermeer/the-milkmaid
Tonight,
A pretty older mother,
At my retirement community's July 4th summer concert,
Speaks to her daughter with a thick Korean accent.
The Traveling Wilburys tribute band plays songs by
The Wilburys, Bob Dylan, George Harrison, Tom Petty, Roy Orbison, and ELO,
All bands and artists who've made music that has excited my heart and spirit
Almost my whole life.
Mother and daughter
Have so much fun,
Dancing to every song.
A man in front of me
wears jewelry and a loose-fitting robe,
covered with colorful animal pictures.
Separate souls
Choose to join
In one happiness.
Someday, I hope to make it rhyme.
"Kiss the Leopards"
Kiss the leopards
before dying
confiscate their spots
for memories
ever changing
to place as stars
stamped across a sky
of evergreen
where hidden lions smile
writing out their scores
on blank canvas
clean sheets for clouds
waving sober dreams
turning pages dog-eared
notes marked in pens unclear
the eagle eyed watching
sunflowers pressed in between
where azure bluebirds
fly invisible, messages unseen
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
“Isn’t it a Pity” / Nina Simone
https://youtu.be/DitOFrGBEQA
“Isn’t it a Pity”/ George Harrison
https://youtu.be/nFxYsWCT6_k
The Lyrics
This is for Pink Floyd
who reminds me
that there is always
a "dark side of the moon."
This is for Stevie Nicks
who reminds me
to "stand back"
and "you can go your own way"
even if it means
leaving love to become
something more for yourself.
This is for George Harrison
and his weeping guitar
who saw the world
"and I see the world is turning"
For The Rolling Stones
who remind me
that I won’t get everything I want
even if it’s what I think I need.
For Helen Jane Long
who plays the piano
and doesn’t sing
and says everything
without saying anything at all.
You’d recreate a military hero?
Macarthur, maybe? Nimitz? Pershing? Sherman?
Or would you choose a leader from the past?
Suppose you went for Mussolini – Nero –
(I can’t remember what they called that German):
but stuff like this is happening today -
(the things that they can do with DNA!)
One rumour is, we’re getting Ethel Merman!
You’d vote for Conway Twitty? Not so fast!
My feeling is, they’ll hit us with a zero:
I think they’re resurrecting Peewee Herman!
From mitochondria they can remake a
Sean Connery, Kirk Douglas, Michael Caine
(the last one, stop the presses, isn’t dead).
You’ll never lose another LA Laker!
We’re dancing, once again, in purple rain!
For Clyde, revived, his object of devotion
(that’s Bonnie) doesn’t lie across the ocean –
she lives to rob anew! Should your disdain
extend to pets, we’ll soon have Mister Ed -
why shouldn’t we? Floyd Patterson, Ma Baker,
the Brady Bunch - George Harrison - John Wayne!
What bothers me is how can we survive it?
Reconstitute a monster from a husk?
Does nothing have importance any more?
They seize our human life and they deprive it
of all its worth. They take a mammoth’s tusk,
and somehow turn it into Lena Horne.
They tell us The Messiah isn’t born,
but next thing that you know, they’ve made Dean Rusk!
They won't bring back Rabindranath Tagore!
What’s next? you ask. They’ve managed to contrive it -
we’re stuck for ever more with Elon Musk!
"I'm going down to the river gonna take me my rocking chair
Going down to the river gonna take me my rocking chair
And if those blues don't leave me
Gonna rock on away from here" by George Harrison...My father-in-law used to say this a lot but it was from an old Blues song probably more of a folk kind.
Too close to the edge of fate we stand,
On the mountain's peak, a risky land.
At the precipice of life and death,
Each step we take with anxious breath.
Too young to bid this world goodbye,
Too well to let our spirit fly.
Yet fear grips us, a paralyzing chill,
As we teeter on the edge, so still.
Injury and danger lurking drear,
Reminding us that death is near.
But in this moment, we find strength,
To step back from the edge at length.
So let us live with courage bold,
Embracing life, breaking the mold.
For though we're scared of what may be,
We choose to live, wild and free.
1.
Material life in the Material World:
Duality in every direction:
As Heaven above is,
So, the earth below:
With every delicate, red, mysterious rose,
A proverbial, wounding thorn ...
2.
Suburban splendor:
A life of "quiet desperation";
Holy apparition, manifestation,
Suburban confession:
One fine, fine house;
Five exquisite rooms inside;
But not one friend
In any one of them.
One calls through the door of each:
There's no reply; nothing; nada;
Just the sound of the proverbial "crickets chirping".
But unlike the stand up comic, struggling on stage for
A laugh, facing the blank, staring faces of the audience,
One knows there's no one "out there",
Knows one can't "hear them breathing".
There's only solitude,
Only the sound of one's own heart beating,
Finally coming back to one's senses.
3.
Chance, chaotic and mistaken:
Father and child suddenly, unexpectedly -
Trade mutually alienated, hostile glances,
Father versus child, the father the fool -
In an existential fog:
Another small, quiet death,
Saving beauty lost,
A moral universe crashed and burned,
For now ...
4.
Endless summer:
The Ides of August
[Ancient Roman feast day for the slaves]
Sunday, August 13
Summer vacation at the shoreline;
Somehow, girlish and laughing,
Diana in tow, eyes alive;
And there, some way thriving:
Every mother, every daughter,
Every child: Loving, fervent prayers to the Goddess.
And a night like a dream:
Dreams dreamed asleep,
And ones dreamed awake;
The flower of the day time
And the flower of the night.
With gentle whispering, a sigh,
Ghostly pale, water lilies stir -
On a slowly, softly brightening shore -
Awaking, enraptured, basking
In a full moon's timeless glow.
[Above poem in honor of
Edgar Allan Poe, American poet; writer; editor;
literary critic extraordinaire (1809 - 1849);
And of Fernando Pessoa, renowned Portuguese poet;
writer; literary critic (1888 - 1935);
And of George Harrison, of course, phenomenally influential Beatle;
singer/songwriter/musician; producer; Hare Krishna devotee (1943 - 2001);
Haribol!]
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Pink sea salt, red chili powder
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Without comparison where would we be?
It was George Harrison, his plagiarism
My Sweet Lord, to another’s tune he’d copy
Poetry Soup Is…
We came aboard this friendship—fleet liner
All that’s needed is a gift of language
And we have a thick savory brothy soup diner
Harmonic words woven together
It takes me a bit longer than most to write
of unrequited love and forevers
Botch it up I might, it’s swim or sink!
For a brain to pick such as mine
I should have used the days wiser
Tells of withered wasted time, I think
I thank my lucky stars
I am a verse improviser