My original interests and intentions in guitar playing were primarily created on quality of tone, for instance, the way the instrument could be made to echo or simulate the human voice.
quote by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
The Music Comes And Goes
by: Tripp
the soothing sounds of a piano to a guitar the sounds they make
the feeling It brings when the piano sings playing the strings of a guitar
the times come and goes as the music grows
in the heart of those who play
thinking of that one thing that brings epiphany to that instrument you play
as you hold and take care playing with hopes and dreams the music slips through
and sings
i can't get enough of what it does to me
when i hear that sound that voice
the music she brings to my heart when I'm with her
her voice is the epiphany to my heart
holding on to her the music keeps playing
my heart keeps beating as the music plays
i keep dreaming dreaming holding on hoping this song will never end
dreaming to fall in love with this instrument forever
she is my instrument
poem by Preston Trip
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I approach playing acoustic guitar more of as a percussive instrument. It's fragile. I don't have a lot of finesse when it comes to my guitar playing.
quote by Billie Joe Armstrong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My voice is my improvisational instrument, the melody instrument. The guitar is harmonic structure. I'm not a good enough guitarist to improvise on it.
quote by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ungramatically, right..!
I have a guitar
It asks me questions...
Replies my doubts...
At times generate novel music...
Without me playing, very noble.!
Many a times I thought
To enter the inner of that...!
As I entered it....
To know its wonders...,
Wonders of its everything...
Kid I became...
For my guitar..! ,
Because of entering its inner beauty..
I was cared as inside of my mom!
And became sacred too...!
Because I dont know anything...
Other than my presence in its kling..!
I am not fully fit to describe about the guitar....
Guitar...my mom...!
Because its my world...my universe..!
To the people it may seem as I am creating music
From the inside and outside by tricks..!
But ultimately....
The guitar only has created me...!
I am the guitar's kid! !
The Musician
The piano came to me
It could not find the right key
Apparently it was looking for a door
Then came the drums
Causing a ruckus
Seems I was the only one
Who took the time to listen
The bass-
With its deep voice
Didn't know wether it was a fish
Or an instrument of greatness
And the guitar-
I looked for the guitar
It was ringing a sad song
I suppose it was looking for me too.
poem by Elvis Lantan
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A Lover's Melody or And from the Oboe Came a Pretty Sound
And from the oboe came a pretty sound
The crescendo called love
From the bell that was his lover's heart
More beautiful than anything
Vivaldi could compose
True, she was an oboe
Alone, in an orchestra of drums, saxophones, and pianos
But she met a guitar
A beautifully carved acoustic instrument
That made a sound like no other
She'd ever heard
Together they made sweet, sweet music
The love-struck oboe wanted to stay
With the guitar, cut a deal, and
Make some records
But, alas, the guitar
Was completely unaware
Of the melody the oboe was playing
From the oboe came a pretty sound
And the guitar, he sung back
Of the returned love
The oboe was looking for,
It was a tune of lament—sad and slow
For he knew he could not give her
What she desired
So he set himself on fire
And from the guitar came a descend
When the oboe found her lover she
picked up what was left of he
and put it in a box of oak
and sailed it off to sea
the oboe knew no sad songs
but she wanted to sing him a tune
so on the beautiful sunset on June
she hummed him what she knew…
…and from the oboe came a pretty sound
poem by Alecia Carroll
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And There is...an Echo
And there is an echo
A voice without voice
Floats and repeats
The real sound of voice
That is echo
Praised by the mute
Who shouts in the sea of mist
Without someone to know
That is echo
Swing by the name
But it ignores and says
Steals the sound of real voice
But let the echo
Takes the voice and echoes
Before the power is gone
And disappears word by word
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Guitar On a Rainy Day
During a rainy day theres always something to do
some people get puzzles out
or whip out the Xbox and play COD 2
me?
I play my guitar,
cause it makes me feel just right.
Heck I could play forever
morning, noon and night.
Cause playing makes me happy,
all relaxed and calm.
From hearing the beauty that I make
by plucking those sweet chords.
It's better than some Xbox,
easier than your puzzle games,
Boy I play my guitar,
cause one day it'll bring me fame
though I guess I wouldnt want that,
too much for one to take.
Sure it'd be nice to be recognised,
but paparazzi? yuck take it away
I could live with being me,
playing that instrument.
With nout but the clothes on my back
and a plectrum in hand.
I'd play that sweet guitar,
play sweet songs throughout the land.
Give you all something to listen to,
on your rainy days
poem by Rachel BaByBeAr Anderson
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Caribbean Night
Tropical night, starlit, if I recall rightly; there was
sliver of a golden moon also. We drank beer too,
the sea is an enormous waste bin, plop, plop.
Someone brought guitar, nights like this ought to
have music, the gentle murmour of voices stilled.
The guitar player wasn't any good, but for awhile
we sat politely listening to his pathetic attempts.
His friend got up, threw the instrument overboard.
We drank more beer, listened to our own dreams;
mine was about a guitar playing dolphin.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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An avaricious man might be tempted to betray the interests of the State to the acquisition of wealth. An ambitious man might make his own aggrandizement, by the aid of a foreign power, the price of his treachery to his constituents. The history of human conduct does not warrant that exalted opinion of human virtue, which would make it wise in a Nation to commit interests of so delicate and momentous a kind, as those which concern its intercourse with the rest of the world, to the sole disposal of a Magistrate created and circumstanced as would be a President of the United States.
quote by Alexander Hamilton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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My baSs gUitar stRing
Pull my string as i sit my back on you
i can make anything you want me to
your hands touching mine at the rhythm of blues
playing fastly like you do with your bass guitar, oh!
And you said relax, don't scream
i did bite my string to shut the voice within
as you move....move...and move...
playing on my curve, your bass guitar moan....
poem by InNer WhisPers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You had to make sure that the tone of your dress was not the same tone as the curtains, for instance.
quote by Julie Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That tone of Music
That tone of dogs:
Is the one that turn her! ! !
Make her the legend of Africa
That made her the best of the best
That gives her the name “Mama Africa”
That made her think of tomorrow.
That tone of bird:
Made her tune on the radio
That made her say “I’m a Diva”
Made her say “I’m a weekend special”
That turns her to Brenda.
That tone of lion:
Made her the Lionel
Made her say “I’m African Madonna”
That made her sing “I’m Dangerous”
That made her the Drama Queen
That tone of music:
That made us proud
To say “I’m an African”
And made us walk free in that Island
And say “I’m proud of African music”
That tone of music, that says with small voices
Made me not take that plane to U.S.A
Made me stay in R.S.A
Made me forget about the past
Make me listen to music
That help that build, that changes, that ragtime
Made me who am I today?
poem by Happy Mhlongo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You are the day, I am the night
You are the day
I am the night.
I am the voice
You are my echo.
We are two parts
You can't divide
And together
We are the picture.
You are the dawn
I am the sunrise,
You are there
And I am here
But... we feel each other
Cause...we are in love.
And here I'll change
And it's not so strange:
You are the day,
I am the night,
You are the voice
I am your echo.
Yes, I agree
That being together
We are the picture.
You can't divide
The day and night,
The dawn and the sunrise,
The voice and it's echo,
The stars and the sky.
So! Our human nature is
A wonderful adventure.
Live in a harmony with nature!
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Echo
Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...
Everywhere I go
There's something I really need
Everyone I know
Is someone I want to be
Even though
I don't really know me
I better pick it up
Before I let it slip away
I better stick it out
Before I take another day
Into mouth
Everything I say fades out
Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...
Can I open up your eyes?
Only when the clouds break?
Can I feel the light?
Even though the world shakes
Every night,
You're my quiet satellite
Can I hold you close?
Do her out of focus
And everything I know
I don't even know this
It all falls through
I'm here and I hear you
Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Cause I need to, just to reach you
Do you hear me?
Coming clearly?
Am I hollow?
Just an echo
Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...
Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...
song performed by by Vertical Horizon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Playing my little guytar
Playing my little guitar
A new song I start to write
The rhymes come so fast
In the space, the imagination fly
Playing my little guitar
The rhymes become funny to eyes
I start to wish something different
Becoming true the others lies
So the birds start to dance in the floor
And the fishes to fly in the sky
Everything is becoming funny
So, I forget my little guitar, why?
So let it go, let it invent
The world is so beautiful, you don't need to pretend
The tears become a smile
The hate becomes funny for a while
And everything becomes true the imagination
Playing my little guitar
Letting fly my little heart
To something that always you can keep.
poem by Ianne de Angel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Sad Guitar (In Iraq)
When I play...my sad guitar,
With powered chords...of deep emotion.
I strum the strings...with such devotion,
When I play...my...sad...guitar.
When I play...my sad guitar,
In a bunker, built in the sand.
This war torn country, this desert land,
I miss playing...In a rock and roll band.
When I play...my...sad...guitar.
When I play...my sad guitar,
My memories play,
Deep in my mind,
I try to find-
Our... wedding... day!
When I play...my...sad...guitar.
When I play...my sad guitar,
I think of my Harley...My hot-rod car,
Wishing I was home,
With a beer in a bar.
When I play...my...sad...guitar.
poem by Philip Lore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Marley from Marie
Here is a story of an old guitar,
A gift made last century, early on.
This token of love was there given,
And received by her chosen one.
Inside these words were written,
By the hand of the girl he adored.
Saying 'To Marley from Marie',
That Christmas Day.....1934.
Now peacefully sleeping with angels,
Yet to live again through the strings.
In a granddaughter's gentle hands,
The instrument once more softly sings.
So grandfather Marley's old guitar,
Finds new voice as it's gently played.
Sharing the music of their timeless love,
Recalling the songs of those yesterdays.
(Rest in Peace grandfather)
poem by Carolyn Marie Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Besides being a guitar player, I'm a big fan of the guitar. I love that damn instrument.
I'm Singing (A Song You Like) :
I'm singing and playing guitar.
I'm singing and playing guitar.
I'm singing, I'm singing a song you like..
And if you want me, and need me real bad.
Just call me.
I'm there when you want.
Just call me.
I'm there when you need my love.
I'll give you, the things that you need.
I'll give you, the things that you want.
I'll give you, the love that you need from me..
Because I'm singing and playing guitar.
I'm singing and playing guitar.
I'm singing, I'm singing a song you like.
When I give you, the love that you need.
Return, your love to me.
Return, your love to me at once..
Because I'm singing and playing guitar.
I'm singing and playing guitar.
I'm singing, I'm singing a song you like.
And when you call me.
Please want me real bad.
I need you.
I need you real bad.
I love you.
I love you for what you are.
I'm singing and playing guitar.
I'm singing and playing guitar.
I'm singing, I'm singing a song you like..
Song-Lyric By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1988,2009..
ALL rights reserved..
See>>www.edwardspoetry.com
poem by Kim Robin Edwards
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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