Because I don't play guitar any more, African harmonies and rhythms have been an inspiration to me. I love the raw origin of the sound. It complements my voice and words naturally.
quote by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Musical You
Your the song I want to sing
Even if the notes in you are unreachable
Still your musical words are attracting
With emotions that is inexplicable
Can you please grant what I've requested
Let me sing the melody you're covering
Though I might mess up and make it tainted
I'll try my best coz' it's worth trying
But if my voice can't race it up
I'll lift it high with my guitar
With the struming rythm it'll reach the top
For your melody it'll soar every star
Or I can play your music with my piano
You'll hear harmonies with flawless keys
Just like the one's you hear on the radio
It'll move you away from your axis
I’ll use everything possible
To play you with every sound
My piano or my guitar
It’ll do to make you astound
I'll play you with every tone
Even with the highest peak of note
But it'll be nicer if I'm not alone
Us with just one voice, that is my quote
poem by Lorena Lalen Cruz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Her love is my inspiration
Her love is my inspiration
Love is the inspiration for my heart to sing a tune,
love is the inspiration for my ear to hear,
love is the inspiration for my soul to warm,
love is the inspiration for my mouth to smile,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to glisten.
Love is the inspiration to draw my soul near another
love is the inspiration for my mouth to utter sweet words,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to gaze upon her,
love is the inspiration for my heart to speak out.
Love is the inspiration for need, love is the inspiration for my mouth to touch hers,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to close,
love is the inspiration for my heart to race,
love is the inspiration for my tears to burn.
Love is the inspiration for longing,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to see only her,
love is the inspiration for my heart to cry out,
love is the inspiration for my ear to hear her whispers,
love is the inspiration for my soul to join hers forever.
Love is the inspiration for forever,
love is the inspiration for my heart to be whole,
love is the inspiration for my ear to always hear those words,
love is the inspiration for my soul to have hers,
love is the inpiration for my mouth to speak the truth.
Love is the inspiration for my soul to seek life
love is the inspirationfor my ear to hear her words,
love is the inspiration for my soul to reach for her,
love is the inspiration for my mouth to speak her truths,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to always look upon her first,
For she is the inspiration for my Love.
Nathaniel Cole Buddington
poem by Nathan Buddington
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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Gospel music rhythms are not African in origin, although I know that's what the jazz experts say.
quote by Mahalia Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Play For Me My Beloved Guitar
Play for me my beloved guitar
A Love Song for my Dearest whose heart is filled with hurt;
With your strings of gold
Pluck out all her troubles from old
Play for me my beloved guitar
A Ballad for my Son whose life is full of uncertainties;
With your tunes so mellow
To a straight path let him follow
Play for me my beloved guitar
A Lullaby for my Daughter whose life is full of struggles;
With your sound so sweet
Into life's hurdles let her succeed
Play for me my beloved guitar
A Sonnet for my Brothers whose lives seem to be so hard;
With your timbre so soft
Into difficulties let them keep up
Play for me my beloved guitar
A Gospel for the World full of hatred and war;
With your resonance so pleasant
Chaos and crimes be gone
Play for me my beloved guitar
An Ode for My Soul full of burdens of the above;
With your lovely tunes and my dexterous fingers
Healing, inspiring, uplifting, motivating and peaceful songs, we will play together.
10/16/10(17: 27) -GYO Iraq
Bitter Sweet
(dedicated to the unknown singer)
Your voice becomes the sound
A bitter sweet one,
The sound vibrates in self
Bitter sweetly,
Your guitar is tearing that sound
And your fingers seem to say
A story of their rescue
A bitter sweet one,
Being known only by them.
Sometimes,
Your voice beats the vibration of the guitar
And the guitar grasps
The vibration of the voice
To convert it into tears,
Giving birth to the melody.
A bitter sweet one.
The song disappears
Somewhere
Toward the Saturn.
The souls entwine.
From the stellar symphony
Something detaches and fall off
Deeply inside of us.
Your voice becomes a signal
Of life and death.
The sound becomes the motion
And vice versa.
I listen to the inaudible symphony of your fingers,
In touch.
Something is born in us irreversibly
And lasts until the end of the time.
poem by Marieta Maglas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Guitar Heaven
Written by: neil diamond
Hey little boy
Just sitting on your back porch
Picking on your guitar
Wishing you were far away
Well, I can tell
Youve had a little bit fo a dream
I see it in your eyes
I can hear it in the songs you play
And hey little boy
Just play it like you feel it
Make it so real
Its almost to real to take
Just swing it like a player
Make it like a prayer
Its one from the heart
Give it all of the hear it can take
And when you play what you wanna play
Just reach down to the soul
You keep on growing and youll know some day
That sound is gonna turn into gold
Boy, youre taking me there
To guitar heaven
And without saying a word
You lay it all on the line
And make me leave my cares
In guitar heaven
Just go and play your song
I could stay all night
Play it son
(guitar solo)
You know, youre taking me there
To guitar heaven
You make me feel every sound
You make it shine like a light
Im gonna lose my cares
In guitar heaven
You go and play that song
Im gonna stay a while
Go and play that song, boy
Im gonna stay a while
The way you play that song
Makes me wanna smile
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I had this big thing about guitar harmonies. I wanted to be the first to put proper three-part harmonies onto a record. That was an achievement.
The Guitarist
Strum the strings
From room to room
The sound will ring
Sealed in its case
Taking up space
I use a pick to play
The guitar, everyday
Playing a chord
Only when I'm bored
Strum the strings
From room to room
The sound will ring
Its base is wood
Its strings are not
When you cannot play
There is nothing to flaunt
Before you play
Tune the sound
Strum on and on
Until a rhythm is found
Strum the strings
From room to room
The sound will ring
I
I have nothing to say
No light to use
No music to play
I'm idle
For I have
No guitar to play
poem by Pete Rivera
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hangdog Hotel Room
I go in for singing, I do it for my pay
But the kind of gig I can really dig is swiggin at the break of day
With a few good friends and neighbors into playin the nighttime tunes
So pass the jar and that old guitar in this hangdog hotel room
I believe in magic, a little monkeyshines
But the kind of row I can really hoe is playin in tune on time
With rhythms all around us were like weavers at the loom
So pass the jar and that old guitar in this hangdog hotel room
Oh lord it feels so good to play a nighttime tune
So pass the jar and that old guitar in this hangdog hotel room
When it comes to mornin and goin out at night
Well the kind of test that I like the best is rubbin the wrong girl right
And a few good friends and neighbors in to playin the nighttime tunes
So pass the jar and that old guitar in this hangdog hotel room
Oh lord it feels so good to play a nighttime tune
So pass the jar and that old guitar in this hangdog hotel room
With rhythms all around us were like weavers at the loom
So pass the jar and that old guitar in this hangdog hotel room
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Once Again I Write...
This pen, this paper is once again my savior.
I write to save my sanity.
I write to ease my heart.
I write to cleanse my soul.
I write to feel alive.
I write to keep my mind strong and my thoughts clear.
I write my words of sorrow, despair, pain, and love, as well as words of wisdom.
I write so that one day someone will truly know me.
This paper, this pen is once again my inspiration.
It is the inspiration to what I see.
It is the inspiration to what I hear.
It is the inspiration to what I feel.
It is the inspiration to the art I create.
It is the inspiration to what I draw.
It is the inspiration to the love for my daughter.
It is the inspiration to the love for my husband.
This pen, this paper is once again my savior.
Once again I write to say thank you my timeless friends.
Thank you for saving me time and time again.
poem by Sara Jo Andrews
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I need inspiration
I need inspiration like rolling hills and roaring thunder
I need inspiration like humanity's fatal blunder
I need inspiration of the purest kind
Where both the dark and the light are defined
I need inspiration to spark the flame of imagination
I need inspiration that could rouse an entire nation
I need inspiration like a roaring fire
The kind of inspiration of which I'll never tire
Please love be my inspiration
You love, are the light of my imagination
With those emerald eyes that are so serene
Your tempting words which set the scene
Your candied lips and gentle breath
That soul of yours with its endless depth
Come my love, explore with me
There is so much we've yet to see
On our journey we shall inspire that dullest of imaginations
And your love will be my eternal inspiration
poem by Jade Hymora
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fate of a Musician
Every day I pick up my guitar and just play
I write my own songs with the help of friends
We design music and lyrics we start new trends
Acoustic guitar, electric guitar or 12 strings
These instruments have played my songs and I have grown wings
Soaring and flying watching my creations grow
As the music expands the lyrics just flow
The more I create the more passionate I become
The more I play the more fun we have
Music gives me something to do
Each song I write I will be sure to see through
When I am up on stage standing in the spotlight
I spread my wings, start playing, and take flight!
When the crowd cheers you get a feeling of inspiration
After the gig you’re sitting home alone
You pull out your guitar stick in the headphones
You start strumming, creating your own beat
You sit there all night tapping your feet
The history of music and the sound you create
Brings friends closer together I reckon its more then fate.
Benjamin A. Green
poem by Benjamin Andrew
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My vocation is more in composition really than anything else - building up harmonies using the guitar, orchestrating the guitar like an army, a guitar army.
quote by Jimmy Page
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sing one of your songs
Darling, sing one of your songs
when we are together
and the candles burn romantic for a time
and play on the chords of your blue guitar
and let me hear your beautiful voice
and remind me
about the reasons for our love.
Take me along
with a lovely tune
and let your magic words
fold around me
and hug me with your sweet voice
and make me believe
that I cannot loose anything
of you forever.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Musician
I don't like to brag,
And I never will.
But I play the guitar,
Like moonshiners play a still.
There really is nothing to it.
I'm just a guitar man.
I was born to play the six string,
And I've got a lot of fans.
You will never know me,
Because I am a lot of men.
Many names are in my pedigree,
A dozen men I've been.
I only play now, for my friends,
And for my family.
There is a sorrow that begins,
Inside my memory.
I have seen death, take my best friend,
I have been thrown in jail.
But I didn't want to let it end,
I did not want to fail.
But I finally threw it all away,
When I had reached the top.
I now live to loath the day,
I had to give it up.
It's just that I love my guitar,
On her I never learned to cheat.
And I never did stray very far,
And she made this guitar man complete.
She is gone now, twas my wrath,
And my son now loves her so.
And he is following my path,
His star is on the go.
10/13/10 vodka360 Alton Texas 9: 21 pm The musician signing off.
poem by Juan Olivarez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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i teach my child by G. Abad
I.
I teach my child
To survive.
I begin with our words,
The simple words first
And last.
They are hardest to learn.
Words like home,
Or friend, or to forgive.
These words are relations.
They are difficult to bear;
Their fruits are unseen.
Or words that promise
Or dream.
Words like honor, or certainty,
Or cheer.
Rarest of sound,
Their roots run deep;
These are words that aspire,
They cast no shade.
These are not words
To speak.
These are the words
Of which we consist,
Indefinite,
Without other ground.
II.
My child
Is without syllables
To utter him,
Captive yet to his origin
In silence.
By every word
To rule his space,
He is released;
He is shaped by his speech.
Every act, too,
Is first without words.
There's no rehearsal
To adjust your deed
From direction of its words.
The words are given,
But there's no script.
Their play is hidden,
We are their stage.
These are the words
That offer to our care
Both sky and earth,
These same words
That may elude our acts.
If we speak them
But cannot meet their sound,
They strand us still
In our void,
Blank like the child
With the uphill silence
Of his words' climb.
And so,
I teach my child
To survive.
I begin with our words,
The simple words first
And last.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Genious
Little genious finaly learned to play the guitar
And it took months for him to learn how to play the guitar
But slowly he is learning
And he is practicing it everyday so he doesn't forget how to play the Guitar
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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