It all comes down to the density of the wood. Every guitar's different.
quote by Robin Trower
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Stone's Slow Words
adamantine density
inner halls so steeply narrow
how much density must I shed
to travel your bright circuits?
how much lightness and listening must I cultivate
to finally hear your slow words?
poem by Joan Woodbridge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Old Thing? It's No You
I spent the night twiddling around on my guitar
A night when I should have been talking to her
Sure, she'll listen to me play
But I think she'd listen to anything I have to say
And this guitar will get old and worn
And the strings will rust
And the neck will crack
And the wood will warp
And playing this guitar gives me callus fingertips
But my girl, she's the one that soothed me when I was forlorn
She's the one I can always trust
I think she will always have my back
Even when I know it's not true, she'll tell me I'm always looking sharp
And she's the one of I sing for, when the song comes from my lips
poem by J.M Berger
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Certain kinds of speed, flow, intensity, density of attacks, density of interaction... Music that concentrates on those qualities is, I think, easier achieved by free improvisation between people sharing a common attitude, a common language.
quote by Evan Parker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Through The Wood
THROUGH the wood, the green wood, the wet wood, the light wood,
Love and I went maying a thousand lives ago;
Shafts of golden sunlight had made a golden bright wood
In my heart reflected, because I loved you so.
Through the wood, the chill wood, the brown wood, the bare wood,
I alone went lonely no later than last year,
What had thinned the branches, and wrecked my dear and fair wood,
Killed the pale wild roses and left the rose-thorns sere?
Through the wood, the dead wood, the sad wood, the lone wood,
Winds of winter shiver through lichens old and grey,
You ride past forgetting the wood that was our own wood
All our own--and withered as ever a flower of May.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fastest Guitar Alive
Orbison/dees
Hey here I go a lucky so and so
Happy cos I know Ive got my fast guitar
Singing pretty songs, knowing I belong
I am first and last, and always a fast guitar
The fastest guitar alive
Rattling strings like a gattling gun
Shaped like a lovely woman
Stay right where you are
My guitar is a fast guitar
The fastest guitar alive
Im rolling on like a rolling stone
Gathering no moss, I play a boss guitar
The fastest guitar alive
Strumming like a battling soldiers drum
Shaped like a lovely woman
Stay right where you are
My guitar is a fast guitar
The fastest guitar alive
Hey here I go a lucky so and so
Happy cos I know Ive got my fast guitar
The fastest guitar
The fastest guitar
The fastest guitar alive
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Guitar (Can't Keep From Crying)
(one, two, three, four)
Found myself out on a limb
But Im happier than Ive ever been
But this guitar cant keep from crying
Learned to get up when I fall
Can even climb rolling stone walls
But this guitar cant keep from crying
This here guitar can feel quite sad
Can be high strung, sometimes get mad
Cant understand or deal with hate
Responds much better to love
I though by now you knew the score
But you missed the point just like before
And this guitar cant keep from crying
(this) guitar, it cant keep from crying
This guitar cant keep from crying
This here guitar can feel quite sad
Can be high strung, sometimes get mad
It cant understand or deal with hate
Responds much better to love
While you attack, create offence
Ill put it down to your ignorance
But this guitar it cant keep from crying
This guitar cant keep from crying
This guitar cant keep from crying
This guitar cant keep from crying
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Guitar
(one, two, three, four)
Found myself out on a limb
But i'm happier than i've ever been
But this guitar can't keep from crying
Learned to get up when i fall
Can even climb rolling stone walls
But this guitar can't keep from crying
This here guitar can feel quite sad
Can be high strung, sometimes get mad
Can't understand or deal with hate
Responds much better to love
I though by now you knew the score
But you missed the point just like before
And this guitar can't keep from crying
(this) guitar, it can't keep from crying
This guitar can't keep from crying
This here guitar can feel quite sad
Can be high strung, sometimes get mad
It can't understand or deal with hate
Responds much better to love
While you attack, create offence
I'll put it down to your ignorance
But this guitar it can't keep from crying
This guitar can't keep from crying
This guitar can't keep from crying
This guitar can't keep from crying
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Me And My Guitar
Me and my guitar
Always in the same mood
I am mostly flesh and bones
And he is mostly wood
Never does grow impatient
For the changes I don't know, no
If he can't go to heaven
Maybe, I don't want to go, Lord
Picture me in the key of E
Call me Uncle John
Any fool can easily see
That we go back a long time
Feel something like fine to me
There's no such thing as the wrong time
He hops up on my knee
Singing, get down pops
It's song time
Every now and then I'm a lonely man
It's nice to know that I've got a friend
Puts his power right in my hand
All l've got to do is the best I can
If I can
Got a dog named David
Got a bird named Dinah
Got a birthmark on my thigh
In the shape of Mainland China
Got a somewhat southern accent
'Cause I come from Carolina
And if you want to find us
We'll be walking right behind you
I hear horns
I hear voices
I hear strings
Seems I was born
With too many choices
Now what am I going to do
With all these extra things
As they serve to confuse me, really
It's me and my guitar
Essentially me and my guitar
Oh maybe a few friends fall by for tea
A little bit of who do you love
But pay no attention
To the man behind the curtain
It's me and my guitar
Having fun, boogie, woogie, uh-huh
Me and my guitar
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Me & My Guitar
Me and my guitar
Always in the same mood
I am mostly flesh and bones
And he is mostly wood
Never does grow impatient
For the changes I dont know, no
If he cant go to heaven
Maybe, I dont want to go, lord
Picture me in the key of e
Call me uncle john
Any fool can easily see
That we go back a long time
Feel something like fine to me
Theres no such thing as the wrong time
He hops up on my knee
Singing, get down pops
Its song time
Every now and then Im a lonely man
Its nice to know that Ive got a friend
Puts his power right in my hand
All lve got to do is the best I can
If I can
Got a dog named david
Got a bird named dinah
Got a birthmark on my thigh
In the shape of mainland china
Got a somewhat southern accent
cause I come from carolina
And if you want to find us
Well be walking right behind you
I hear horns
I hear voices
I hear strings
Seems I was born
With too many choices
Now what am I going to do
With all these extra things
As they serve to confuse me, really
Its me and my guitar
Essentially me and my guitar
Oh maybe a few friends fall by for tea
A little bit of who do you love
But pay no attention
To the man behind the curtain
Its me and my guitar
Having fun, boogie, woogie, uh-huh
Me and my guitar
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Can Play (Lyrics) :
He didn't give himself up to fear.
And his voice had a life of its own.
He didn't give himself up for broke.
Just a man who played his guitar.
He said 'I can play the guitar', 'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
He didn't give himself up to drinking beer.
His voice still had a life of its own.
And he didn't give himself up for smoke.
Just a man who played his guitar.
He said 'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
He didn't give himself up to curcumstance.
Always tried to make it alone.
He didn't give himself up to telling lies.
His honesty was already shown.
Always kept himself up to par.
Just a man who played his guitar.
He said 'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'...
Rock Lyric By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1987,2009..
ALL rights reserved..
poem by Kim Robin Edwards
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Beloved Guitar
The long solid neck,
With flowing, refinded strings.
A base of cherry; finished wood.
Defined in figure, exquisite;
Among other things.
Shaped with a curve,
Set down in my lap.
I picked up my guitar,
And made my fingers tap.
A symphony from,
Those melodic strings.
Part of my hearts amour.
My fingers graze along,
This coppery and bronze decor.
A roughness they slide.
Along the ends;
Roughness on my fingertips.
A sliding; an arry of refreshing sounds.
One that echos into the bottem,
And emerges to astound.
My arm embraces the frame work,
A base of refined finished wood.
Tuned to a sound,
Like a guitar should.
My fingers cradle those melodic stings.
The light strum of my hand,
Makes music;
The guitar sings.
From the mouth of a speaker.
Out comes a tune.
With a cadence strum.
Fingers pressed down,
Out the music comes.
A symphony from,
This rhythmic harmony.
A tone in my soul.
A note that's always been apart of me.
A feeling I once knew.
I recall, a sound in the distance.
A beauty that plays so smooth.
Shaped with a curve,
Set down in my lap;
I picked up my guitar.
It slowly starts to come back.
That feeling, I'll never forget.
I recall, a sound not so far.
I recall, the feeling that day;
The day I picked up my beloved guitar.
poem by Jessie Jett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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! !
All gut strings. That's just the first kind of guitar I played, it was a nylon string guitar. And to me, it's the purest form of guitar making, and I just enjoy doing it.
My Guitar.
my guitar has six strings,
it gets lonely when nobody sings,
musical and magical,
my pick makes my guitar sound so magical,
and no matter were i go shes right there,
when i play my guitar people always stare,
we sound so good together,
i hope my guitar will stay with me forever,
my guitar has six strings.
but it gets lonely when no one sings,
my guitar is never out of tune,
it doesnt matter who i play it too,
wether you're happy, mad or feeling blue,
just remember my guitar will help you get thru.
1/11/2009
Copyright ©2009 Jose Murguia
poem by Jose Murguia
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I listened to classical guitar and Spanish guitar, as well as jazz guitar players, rock and roll and blues. All of it. I did the same thing with my voice.
quote by Boz Scaggs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sea-Saw (more writing fun)
If I saw a wood boat afloat
Upon the sea,
Would what I see possibly be
The wood I cut from a tree?
For when I saw a tree
I would like to think I see,
What the wood I saw
Could be.
If all I saw in wood from a tree
Was all I saw that there was to see,
Would what I did saw
Be the wood that I now see?
And if the wood I once did saw
Was indeed made into that ship on the sea,
Would it even be possible to know that here what I see
Is the wood once sawed by me?
All I here would dare to share is:
I see what I saw, and I saw what I see,
And therefore the wood I do saw could one day be
The boat I may see, afloat upon the sea.
See?
poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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While My Guitar Gently Weeps
I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping
While my guitar gently weeps
I look at the floor and I see it needs sweeping
Still my guitar gently weeps
I don't know why nobody told you how to unfold your love
I don't know how someone controlled you
They bought and sold you.
I look at the world and I notice it's turning
While my guitar gently weeps
With every mistake we must surely be learning
Still my guitar gently weeps
I don't know how you were diverted
You were perverted too
I don't know how you were inverted
No one alerted you.
I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping
While my guitar gently weeps
Look at you all...
Still my guitar gently weeps.
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Ol' Guitar
This ol' guitar
has been my best friend
through thick and thin
It has held all my thoughts
spoken them through melody
words whispered from my heart
And at times
this ol' guitar
has even held tears at bay
Stopped my world from falling apart
it even has kept
this ol' heart from breaking in two
Yes, this ol' guitar
has served these aging hands
of mine so well
This ol' guitar
it has created music
that screamed out to be heard
This ol' guitar
has been my best friend
through thick and thin....
poem by Daniel Wittfoth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There happened to be guitar classes at the college, and there was a guitar teacher there with whom I used to play. In addition, I also would go out into country schools and teach little kids basic guitar and singing a few times a week.
quote by Mark Knopfler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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