Long Guitar Poems
Long Guitar Poems. Below are the most popular long Guitar by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Guitar poems by poem length and keyword.
Written: January 07, 2005, Contest Sponsored by: Anthony Biaanco
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The boy of Roswell grazed at the skies wide.
discovered his real north, by the mountainside.
An ambrosial, vibrant voice rang out as sunlight.
a shepherding glow of his guitar is so bright.
He was singing of eagles soaring free.
In a rowan of aspen and pine trees.
The sweeping curves of rural roads.
There, everlastingly, burn spurring goads.
A yearning request, "Take Me Home."
The untamed and joyful grassy loams.
Art was portrayed in each song.
Nature's musicality is factoid, rich, and strong.
As sung in "Annie's Song," orphic love divine.
A quiet vow, people may feel pride in their whine.
The song "Leaving on a Jet Plane" yields sighs.
The heavens bid a sad farewell to the skies.
His aesthetic voice, enchanting sound, clear and warm,
A flowering tented oasis amid life's storm.
One lesson he imparted was to look within.
We must seek tranquility, where life can win.
The planet was clutched in his palm.
A gentle spirit, in every corner, brings balm.
While the body is dead, the soul can still fly.
Among the peaks, straining for the stars, so high.
When the breeze rustles the grazing land.
His gentle melody is still shifting, as the sand.
A reminder of the grace and harmony of nature.
Here on this spot, John Denver cheerful spirit lingers.
Lucinda would write songs that were dark
Too intense, probed recesses of the soul
She'd wake up with a phrase, clear and stark
Write down a few lines, get on a roll.
Pull out a meaning, get the right tone
Find where the spirit meets the bone.
Irving Berlin rose from nowhere to fame
He says a song must have longing inside
Some of his biggest hits he felt were a shame
But if I wrote "white Christmas," I would feel pride.
He gave some profits to the father of his wife
The father had disowned her, an irony of life.
Mary says the song can write itself
when that happens, it keeps her trying more
A finished song makes her feel outside herself
Like a growth spurt or letting the spirit soar.
A couple of chords, then a walk in the plain.
The guitar kicks it off; a new song learns its name.
John was asked to end an album with a love song
He drove to Big Sur, then back to L.A.
Tried to feel the ways people get along
The lines poured out, he'd made his day
"like a fire when it's cold outside, or thunder when it rains."
"Perhaps Love" became a classic, reached the halls of fame.
Some don't feel music, others don't want it to take hold
The Taliban forbids songs, treat them as a crime
I know some folk who say music leaves them cold
And public taste can flip on a dime.
But when a good song hits the airwaves, it's a nice surprise
A new way of saying what applies.
John Denver, Lucinda Williams, Mary Carpenter and more
Like art in general, worthwhile to explore.
Lucinda starts with phrases, Mary starts with her guitar
Some songs are team efforts; each way can make a star.
They packed their picnic basket s and journeyed towards the sun, with boxes of liquor, creates of beers and a drum fill with carbonated soda; busloads of them, drove down the slopes, with dug out boats and makeshift floats.
They traveled with the band, guitar and key board fold up in their hand, with cymbals and steel drum resting on their shoulder; they braved the heat and cross the street.
They were all in a jubilant mood so they set off to have fun in the radiant sun. Hundreds of them landed on the beach in the sweltering heat and pitch their tents. They stare at the distance as the ferocious waves wash against their feet.
Big ships start rolling in, and the carnival boat began to sing, the music was pounding and the people were dancing and chanting to the rhythms. Some were waving hand kerchief, and handmade flags, people of all races colors and creeds mingled together while the big ship cruise towards shore.
The ship came to a sudden stop and several small boats ferried the people towards the shore. Their bright colors blended with the sun drove their passion to the extreme and so the party began.
Meanwhile the band on the shore, sets off a different score and the people went wild stirring their soul to the extreme. Drunken men sprawl out on the beach, hugging the sand with a bottle of beer in the other hand while the unfaithful woman walks around entertaining the men without gown.
The beach party was in full swing and people continue to pour in; boat loads and the ship loads of people crowd the shore. I noticed something strange from a distance; blood was washing around the side of the ship, the exact spot that that destiny was walking in. It wasn’t a gun man or a family man; it was a school of shark that surrounds the boat mauling the passenger in their throat as they leave the boat.
The blood thirsty sharks mauled twenty-one people to death without a shot fired or an action discovered. No shouts or scream not even a whisper was heard, they all died silently in their dreams.
The carnage took place in the middle of the sea and the sharks slowly pulled the captain’s body to the bottom of the ocean..The beach party continues in full swing and the light on the beach never grows dim.
The concert hall was fully packed,
A sizzle in the air.
I’d waited oh, so many years
To finally make it there.
At last they dimmed the chandeliers
And, strutting out on stage,
Guitar in hand, was he whose voice
Has not succumbed to age.
He started strumming and the crowd
Went crazy with delight,
Enthusiasm climbing
To the most audacious height.
My son and wife were there with me
To make up for the fact
They’d never seen him either;
(Opportunities they’d lacked).
My grandson clapped excitedly
To songs he mostly knew.
Like most of Raffi’s audience,
He’s 8 months more than 2!
There you go, thinking you have to try
Even though you know in the end you'll just cry
Thinking one of these days
I'll mend my ways
Maybe find myself new
As the hunger grew
Turn on the light
Make my world bright
Pick up my guitar again
Make the world spin
Write a new song
Can't go wrong
Wouldn't take that long
Make the world sing
The happy, that would bring
Making my heart beat
Feeling the heat
Rocking all night
Bringing on the daylight
Times starts to fade
Did I make the grade
Just a word
unheard
but for in my head
What the voices said
The music wed
The sound
Unbound
Time
Some rhyme
Done more than what we got
There's an AI robot - you!
Time to take a shot
With the computer I fought "Doha"
Yet, I still would NEVER kill Roy
With a G
In some biz
It still seems like ROYGBIV
Still living life
Forgot about the promises
Still, they do uplift
It is a gift as I drift
The distance as it disses
That one final kiss
I skipped out on
Now I am pissed
So, I guess I will grab a Lyft
As AI plays this last riff
I need to pick, lick, and get a grip,
On this shined pulled from the pit
That last hit flipped the switch
From the tip to the lip
That can just now stick
To when one admits
That the tit of a bit of a baseball mitt
Could catch onto the rants of One Shoe
Keep up with the crew they grew for you
Then blew the rest out of its ass
Way far out and much to fast
But it leave it in the past
NOT worth the drama
Still when I get that Honda
American Dream
Scene kid that could, would, and should scream like the real Mean Green Bean
To lean on what comes from once being
A solitary fiend or state fully deemed
The TX two step King
In or out of the ring
Still singing
That robotic moronic esteem
That the job
Is to get a job
In itself is the means
That teams get reamed
While dubbed obscene
No matter hats, boots, or jeans
Get cut off from Creme
Even when the guitar rings
A new note or anecdote
The antidote still stings
Because of a new meaning
Once much esteemed
Much more than Charley Sheen
Yet while wheezing
I agree
That we are all on drugs
Silly me
I say "Oh, geez"
As life passes in the breeze,
On bended knees,
I reach out to my former squeeze,
If that makes me sound 90,
I could however find the binding
Thay brings us back together
Like a tether ball for leather face
To my disgrace I know I need 2 faces
Whatever it takes
And whatever that was laced with
Still, I know we all can make it
Simply stated
By G3
I'm having the hardest time
Trying to find something that rhymes
With Paul Simon's counterpart
Garfunkel so I'll just call him Art
Always standing to Paul's right
Feeling left out in his life of strife
Struggling in the crossing over
This bridge of his troubled waters
Although he can sing sweet as sin
There's nowhere for Art to put his hands
While Rhyming Simon strums his guitar
Empty are the tinder hands of Art
Pockets front and pockets back
Are his only plan of attack
If he had known it'd go down this way
An instrument he would have learned to play
But as far as history goes
Who wouldn't love to have his voice
Although he can sing sweet as sin
Art Garfunkel has nowhere to put his hands
Though Art Garfunkel while singing would hold the Mic stand at times he did keep his hands in his pockets quite frequently...awkward.
Instrumental verse bass guitar:
Praise Him up praise Him up praise Him up
I will praise Him up I will praise Him up
Praise Him up praise Him up praise Him up I will praise Him up
Now what am I thankful for
Manny things that you have ignored
Well I'm here now to tell you I'm on board
Invoked in positivity
Free to worship at Liberty
Oh! I can't ignore Him I must sip from His cup
I will I will praise Him up
I am grateful for everything and for all He's done
And when I'm on the run I'll stand still
And lean on Him
He's real and I can feel in Him I trust
Praise Him up praise Him up praise Him up
I will praise Him up, I will praise Him up, in the morning
I will praise Him up I will praise Him up,
When I'm winning and if I'm blue or if I'm losing
I will praise Him up for all He's done for me
He has forgiven me I will trust in Him
He's giving me joy peace and love please promise me heaven up above
And I'm so grateful that I pray them up
I will praise Him up praise and up I will praise Him up
Praise Him up
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr
Arranged music by James Edward Lee Sr
Lamp posts eyes
through cracks
of curtains
spying
sewing needles
through mine
uninvited
screeching tires
honking horns
sirens
plucking mind’s guitar
unstop.
Take me to the Sonoran
steal into a hut
while its inhabitant
hunts
fall asleep in its belly
hidden
from rattling reptiles
hunting grasshoppers
coyotes
the howling hunter mouse
monsters, giants
the Gila, the Iguana
scorpions!
Take me to the Sonoran
illumed by the Saguaro
opening its white petals
at night
a lamp post of
candelabra flowers
where lizards
on waking
take sunbeams
showers
savoring magic
of orange red
golden yellow flowers
winking at sunset
and vanishing.
Honk, honk! Screech!
Splash!
Spilled my glass
of chamomile
slumbering on the sandy
waterless beach
of the Sonoran.
Pulsing nights on Westhiemer; running without EZ tag
Is there no relief to the angst of a teenage monster?
Road to nowhere but lights beyond this steel atrocity
I got the keys and you got the yellow pages; time to change history
But you dropped out before the first call, guess that was all; I took the fall,
But it's only six feet, down to reality. And aren't I a self-righteous prick?
Those WEREN'T the days, but I stuck it out, danced with my demons; they cut a mean rug.
Touched down on the strand with my wit and terror, killed by many women, but only one did it just right,
Im only sayin' you coulda sent regards, not no-holes-barred; Guess it ain't in your cards,
The deck you had declared war on me, but it's all good, caught in your killing spree.
Kinda funny the only one you killed was me; Ryan found himself I suppose, he always was a loner.
The house you had now just a relic in bygone time of guitar solos and moldy pizza,
You and your dumbass gun craze; all I need is a sharp tongue and I'm deadly,
Just lying to myself now, with the wish for amends, but that road's weed-choked and chained off,
And here I stand in the silence of ten years gone; this old friendship a rotted, maggot strewn mess,
But we both passed the test, I wish you the best; heard you got the stork strangling your ass......
Guess those guitar solos paid off.