Long Grammy Poems
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LIFe. as i see it is distorted and bland.
i wish to be on the beach easin my mind in the sand.
the sound of the wave's take away my pain.
who but me is to blame.
i feel happy then sad i wanna ride the never ending train.
my eye's n heart seem to rain.
LOSING her has left a never ending pain on my brain.
on my there's a permenant stain.
LIFe as i see it is peaceful sometime's then i get hurlled into my own mind.
my thought's i can't find. some day's i feel as if i'm BLIND.
I'M mean today tommorrow i could be kind.
DONT KNO WHICH 1 IT'LL BE MAYB U'LL FIND.
LIFe as i see it is hard to explain.
i wanna lay n earase my mind n the rain.
m i OKAY? or m i INSANE?
LIFe as i see it is like no1 else can.
My GRAMMY was my biggest fan.
LIFe as i see it is distorted most the time.
will i be not right today or will i be fine.
I wish the sun could BRIGHTEN my day n make my heart SHINE.
LIFe as i see it change's everyday.
bring her back to me god i pray.
I wanna feel the SUN's ray.
what else can i say.
i just LIVE lif DAy 2 DAy.
LIFe as i see it i wish other's could.
there's things i cant do that i know i should.
TAKE AWAY MY PAIN I WISH SOME1 ELSE COULD.
Form:
You can see him now, dirty as a horse
that slipped in the mud, planting petunias
with that infamous shamrock thumb
(Irish from his Pop Appendage from his Mum)
stopping every now - and again -
to breathe deep that fragrance
rich with pheromone nostalgia
just like Grammy Georgina used too do
the apple doesn't fall far from the tree
I can still see her now, in her glory days,
with lovely lemon locks soaking up the summer sun,
rooted in that old-fashioned train of mind:
You don't stop your work until it's done!
(but a walking contradiction, just like her grandson,
... rose to her nose like ruby rebellion)
the tree doesn't grow solely from the ground
Water's an important player too,
especially from grandma's showering can
(laughing tears the shade of crystalline blue)
Course you can't forget those lifetime lessons either,
from dear ole Georgie, speaking with a sunny kind of seriousness,
about the importance of patience,
the fruitfulness of labor,
plucking up the surviving winters' courageous cucumbers,
blushing beets
the ground isn't just a place for our feet
Cause with her and I, we incinerate the stereotype:
young blood reflecting on infinity,
old knees dancing like she's got chipper chipmunks
for toes giggles in the background like a photobomb
to the expected chapel silence
(it's not all peaches and cream though,
sometimes we get violent)
Orange slush, flying miles behind us,
at times getting grazed in the face
by nature's food fight
our feet between the squish squish of the crab apple
We were two peas, if you please, in a curious pod,
like a whimsical joke from a laughing God:
Me, the champion of her scallions,
the guardian of her garden,
leaving all sensibility befuddled
with an, "I beg your pardon?"
I wonder if she knew then the gravity of the situation,
watching mama scream bloody murder,
as I came into this world ...
... was she scratching her head, lips curled, in questioning amazement,
just like Newton must have been, when developing his theory?
What d'you suppose they both were thinking?
The apple doesn't fall far from the tree ...
Written March 27, 2016
For the Cliche Contest Hosted by Silent One
YESTERDAY WHEN I WAS DUMB - A Benign Parody
(with sincere enough apologies and more to those who made the original composition an all-time great. T. Wignesan)
Refrain :
Yesterday when I was dumb
I couldn't tell a song from any sore thumb
All the tunes I hummed with my silent tongue
Were but tinnitus on my ear-drums sweet songs I sung
All the pretty frisky girls passed me quickly by
Yet I don't know why I couldn't even cry
I couldn't remember the sounds made by warbling birds
Nor the thunderous laughter I heard bursting from the clouds
All the songs I learnt line by line by heart
Kept mocking me in the stillness of my thoughts
(Refrain)
The wintry winds I weathered in my feathered bed
Warmed by lilting melodies in my love-sick head
All the words of songs lame casualties on my tongue
I could not sleep nights heaving on one lone lung
In my dreams I tussled with girls sticking out their tongues
I lisped some sounds like grunts to appease their wrongs
But I'd as lief be made a clown sans papier-mâché crown
Than be mocked by childhood girls I rolled atop meadow down
(Refrain)
Each full day I prayed for the right word to come to mind
Nothing doing ! I always mixed and twisted words on the line
Then I always drop shut the shutters, drew the curtains tight
Shut myself up in the shower to croon some line just right
" No bloody use " the misted mirror said : " You cannot win a Grammy "
" Oh ! What use is a tongue if it cannot taste the kiss of melody ! "
I've lived so long to know there's only one way to say : " Goodbye ! "
No words on lines nor tunes, just a look, a wave of a hand and a sigh !
(Refrain)
Yesterday I was dumb but today I have my own pounding tom-tom
With signs and signals to speak the language of the drum
And the orchestra sweeps over strings and the smiling moon
And I no longer seek to put words on line to croon
Oooh ! Yesterday ! I felt the stings in the cockles of my heart
Yet today I sing blood red the sounds surging through the chart
Oooooh Oooooh…. Yesterdaaay….
© T. Wignesan - Paris, May 3, 2019
At 10,911 meters beneath the Pacific veil,
where no submarine dares dream,
I descended into the throat of Earth—
into the trench men call Mariana,
but spirits call Theotokos.
There, the water was not water—
it was glass that hummed.
The ocean floor rose like a palace,
built of crystal bones and music stones—
a cathedral of sound and secrets.
They called it the House of Fire Music.
Inside, stood the immortalized—
Beyoncé, her aura a flicker of gold.
Jay-Z, carved from thunder and code.
Janet Jackson, wrapped in the rhythm of moons.
Dolly Parton, humming in divine frequencies.
Elvis shimmered at the corner, whispering hymns
of forgotten chords.
And then, the Beings arrived—
not gods, not angels—
but the composers behind the composers.
They stood clad in scarlet and amethyst,
eyes like suns behind veils of silk.
“We are the architects of your sound,” they said.
“Every chart hit, every sold-out stage,
begins not in your world, but here.”
A ritual began.
Each musician was summoned
to offer a letter of the alphabet.
Beyoncé stepped forward. Her voice—clear, defiant:
“I give you the letter S.”
The beings replied:
“Then we give you Single Ladies.
Take it. Sing it. The world will move.”
And so it was.
Kanye West knelt, offering P.
They gave him Power.
Lady Gaga whispered B,
and was handed Born This Way.
Freddie Mercury had once been here—
and took Bohemian Rhapsody
from their marble hands.
No song is random.
No beat is blind.
Everything—
from release dates to Grammy speeches—
is scripted by ancient rhythm codes
within the citadel of Theotokos.
They are taught the law of vibration,
the diet of frequency:
“No meat that bleeds.
No sex before sound.
No fame without silence.”
Their lives are not theirs.
Their voices are borrowed.
This world we know—
the charts, the scandals, the glam—
is just a shadow on the surface.
The music industry?
A temple built on crystal lies.
And when I rose back to the surface,
gasping, reborn—
I heard the radio play a new track,
and I knew—
It came from beneath.
"When your down and out you need some Joe Bonamassa."
Quote by _ Constance
His music is raunchy and moody, his voice raspy yet smooth. If I close my
eyes I am in a rundown bar in the middle of nowhere down and out on luck.
His name is Joe Leonard Bonamassa, an American born blues rock guitarist, singer and songwriter. Born in 1977, he grew up in Utica, New York, USA.
His parents Len and Delia were avid blues music fans and owned a music
store and this is where Joe got his love for guitars. He started playing guitar
at four years old. At twelve he was playing with B.B. King and has played
with many notable artists. He has fifteen solo albums, and eleven of them
have reached No.1 on the Billboard Blues Chart. He has been nominated for
three Grammy Awards. He has his own record label called Keeping Blues
Alive Records where he supports blues musicians and their music.
Something interesting about Joe is his vast collection of guitars and amps,
four hundred or more. Most are vintage. He has been buying them all his
life. A room in his home is called the Bona-seum ! He loves his Fender
Telecaster that he nicknamed Bludgeon. But, there is another rare and
valuable guitar that he uses in concerts, a 1958 Gibson, Flying V, he calls
Amos after the original owner Amos Arthur. I love this man, his music, his
message. He can play the blues for me anytime. He keeps his private life
private, I like that about him !
random lyrics from
Mind's Eye
Joe Bonamassa
help I'm going down
need someone
to slow the spiral down
reach up, dig deeper
I'm haunted by memories
you can'nt see
_____________________
May 07, 2023
Poetry/Bio/Joe Bonamassa - Blues Guitarist
Copyright Protected, ID 05-1545-662-07
All Rights Reservered, 2023, Constance La France
Written for the Premiere contest, Joe Bonamassa Inspiration
sponsor, Robert James Liquori, Judged 05/07/2023
First Place
Sometimes I have this innate jealousy of singers
Doesn't every girl wish she could blow like Whitney
Or harmonize like mariah?
It makes my dreams of being chief editor of a magazine
Seem miniscule when your talking about winning a Grammy
Sometimes I feel a little small next to my friend
Who steals the spotlight with her voice
I steal people's minds with my poems
I gain acceptance with my thoughts
When I think of singing I think of instant gratification
Yet in the world of poetry you have to prove yourself
and little kids see my talent as boring
Who do they convince you to be when your young?
Sure enough not no writer
Excuse my grammar on this part
But the say either be a pop star or a basketball player
There is simply no brain washing that will make
a kid want to pay attention in English unless they truly care
That's when I realized developing a talent like mines
Takes passion and heart from the start
I'd much rather be on the interviewing side
Making artist cringe with the unique form
Of words I use...
So if you'd ask me this time who i'd choose to be
If god made me over and I could receive any talent
I'd always choose writing
Cause it's one of those things similar to air
I'd die without the chance to express
what I feel on paper
My granddaughters asked me one day
"Grammy, how did you date
Going to an all girl school
Wasn't it pretty hard for you?"
They were at that dating age
And figured they could trap me
I just told them with a smile
I knew were I was going all the while
I stayed in school
And got my teaching job
Near the H bar T spread
On Nebraska sod
The land lady invited the cowboy
From up the valley one eve
To come down for a little supper
And meet the new lady who was going to teach
We spent the evening playing double solitaire
An when he got ready to leave
I asked him, " Please
Can you put my saddle in the barn for me?"
Sunday found me busy at work
Getting ready for school to start
He stopped by and wanted to know
If to the roping club with him I'd go
I did go and from that day on
Wednesday night, Friday night, Saturday
And Sunday's were our days,
Work permitting.
He had been on his own since he was fifteen
And took special pride in his work
Sometimes in the evening if he had the time
You just might find us on the phone line
Thanksgiving rolled around
And I went to Kansas to see my folks
And he went Wyoming to look at a ranch
On the way back he stopped by my place
I walked him to the car when he was ready to leave
And I told him, "I'm going to a wedding
On June Nineteenth."
He just looks at me and says
"If I'm supposed to be there just let me know"
I did
He did come
And we were forty seven years and two weeks
As one
When I got finished telling the granddaughters
Their mouths were open in shock
Grammy did you really do that
I said Yep
An that's how you
Came about.
I told Billy about the girls and me
And he replied with a grin
"You know you're right
I never did ask you to marry me."
When Billy looks down on me from above
I kiss my wedding band with love
For on our wedding bands you'll find
The stars and the moon for all time
So you decided to take the one person i had in this life didnt ,matter what i did,
She was my everything,she gave me alife and brought me up , since i was a kid,
As I sat by her side i was forced to watvch her slip away,
As she drifted a part of me continued to die more and more everyday,
Just barley wrapped my headd arounnd her being gone and finally caught my breath, and again without warning you decided to take my daddy, my rock, my go to, my best friend,
He was mu protector, my only saftey, leaving me lost and terrified knowing my heart will never mend,
Its not fair i wanna know why? first my Grammy, then ,my Dad,
What have i done so wrong to uou God and what did i do to make you so terribly mad?,
As i held there cold cold hands and kissed there oh so cold cheek
I completley died inside no more feeling left i was just numb and extremely nasueas and weak,
For months i sat there on the edge of my bed paralyzed didnt matter what anyone said,
Trying everything i possibly could to try to accept that they actually were really dead,
As im clinging to life and struggling to find the will to breath, you once again decide to take someone very dear to me,
As if my granmmy and my dad wasnt enough you decide to also take my grandpa and mom too,
God you have taken my family, you have taken my whole life, every bit of support and love you have taken it all,
You left me here on this earth broken with 2 confused broken and lost kids i dont understand all this,I am strong but not this strong, this pain inside is far too much I wanna just close my eyes and blow away with the warmth of a kiss,
why me huh? what have i done to u to deserve this nightmare its too much, without a thought I fall apart by the sweetest simplest innocent touch,
WHY WHY WHY I WANT ANSWERS RIGHT NOW!
JUST WANNA KNOW WHY?
Created a little ditty about hypocrites and
double standards, racists with drawing boards.
Media dinners with dubious
double meaning placards.
The Spade of hearts.
The Jack of Swords.
An adversity of diversity,
assorted stuff for their hating,
tarot cards,
racial fits in the music awards,
and a grammy for
"sex in the city."
Man who is that dude on the Grammy, Satan?
Jean Luc Picard with Baphomet itties?
Idols for idols, adverts with priority
misplacement, Universal standard.
Mesmerized tazement,
enter lame-ment.
Amazement for sheep enslavement under
black candles.
As the hypnotizing blow is more than
a psyops experiment.
But here we go,
gonna run at it hard while I vent-so.
Everyday I listen to the same old thing
Tune in to VH1 or Mtv, see what I mean
Only degradation gets attention, is it ADD?
No, they know the words, they are listening intently.
With a mother****** this and a dead *****dat. Posthumously-
Gangland in the home with a baseball bat.
Un-Just like liberal Congress across the nativity scene.
Is it positive reinforcement?
Or New World Laws Enforcement.
Fasting for lent?
Come get your sisting y'all.
Come and get bent!
In genre hostage making,
30 year experiment?
Yo Mtv raps, yeah I get it
(about murder $$y & pot leaf sense)
I guess when the airwaves got a monopoly
from the Lord of the Air and GoogleBerg
Hall Monitors.
Not the Right, but the wrong
afraid of debate, running away, running with impunity, running with devil- the PMRC, the CDC ,FCC,
FEMA and Columbia University.
Now you want to talk about Satan,
check the connection between Crowley and JayZ.
On how you get chicks for free
and money for nothin, nothin but devil worshipping,
special sales from wolves making sheep
clothing and accessories.
Accessories to many of the things you see.
wicked is how i feel about now.
wanna go to sleep but i have no clue how.
it's 3:42 and sleep is long away.
tomorrow WILL be wicked workin zoomin will i stay.
i'm up then down wanna sleep then wanna play.
thing's r blue then they're grey.
my mind just keep's seemin to stray.
when will it be tomorrow day.
wicked is me.
i can but can u see.
i feel peaceful swayin like a tree.
n my mind a FLOWER i could be.
n the cloud's with the bird's how peaceful n free.
i'm shakin like the limb's when it storms.
i wanna rewind the clock 4hours n be n they're dorms.
i sleep so well when the rain just pours.
wicked has opened alot uh door's.
wicked is what i took at 12:30
now i'm alone n flirty.
my mind is like blurty.
i know that's not a word but right now it is to i.
on my face is a smile n my ALL i do is cry.
i ask n wonder 2myself why?
wipe the tears now they're dry.
the tissue's just wickedly fly.
wicked is what my mind is like about now.
take this pain some1 i wish u knew how.
to YOU i would bow.
because i want peace like the earth n the tree's.
i wanna be the BEE's knee's.
SOME1 HELP ME PLEASE.
i'm feelin wicked what m i talkin about GEEZE.
then i freeze.
come back to reality n all the pain.
wish i could wash it away like the rain goin down the drain.
on my heart's uh stain.
can't get my grammy off my mind it's such pain.
wicked would have been my dad every knowing his baby.
but drugs were all that was on his mind lately.
n lately i mean the past 20 years of my life.
never met the guy but wouldn't think twice.
to let him c the wicked ME his daughter but know's nothing of me.
i had my gram n mom all my life they made ME ME.
without them nothing i would be.
GOD please just set me free.
like the peaceful tree.
or just let me escape n fly like a bee.
any1 readin this mayb 1 day u'll see.
KEELEY.
Form: