I'm left handed, but my dad taught me to play guitar right-handed.
quote by Dustin Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Spirit Of St. Louis IV
In my consortium,
In my realm,
Born on Friday the 13th;
But i broke my right hand in primary three,
And today i am a left handed.
Thanks to my teacher who taught me to switch to the other hand,
And like the freat men and women in the land of plenty!
For my gifted talent had made me who i am today,
And like great men and women who were left handed.
A typical example if 'Albert Einstein' who brought about the Energy Theory,
And the world had come along with it!
Because, E=mc².
Bill Gate of the Microsoft fame is a left-handed,
President Obama of the U.S.A. is a left-handed,
Like the Day of the Left-Handed celebrated on the 13th of August;
So the dedication of this poem is for the left-handed.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I didn't know Albert back then - I just learned to play that way. He and I were the only guys that played left-handed. Then left-handed people came from every direction.
What If I Have Only One Arm?
if i have only one arm left
i still take the pleasure of using to the utmost
the remaining arm
i will take my coffee one at a time
open a jar with sugar
take a spoonful
and take the cup
and pour hot water there
i prefer the right arm
rather than the left
if one arm be lost.
just that, i am right handed
and you are left handed
we still complement each other and that
is the most important thing that
can happen to me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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We need three kinds of pitching: left handed, right handed, and relief.
quote by Whitey Herzog
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Over To You
Born in the window
Cold blooded spoof
Raised in the prison
You called the school
Taught young in legends
Told what to do
I handed my childhood
Over to you
Travelling endlessly, Im searching for mind
Im almost afraid of what I will find
Wandering aimlessly, oh what can I do?
I handed my future over to you, to you
Over to you
Future looks blue
What can I do?
Watching for freedom
Fighting our wars
Feeding our children
Keeping your laws
Someday youll suffer
And what Ill do
Ill hand all your promises
Over to you
Standing inside myself, Im losing control
You made me believe in the stories you told
Waiting impatiently, what else can I do?
I handed my future over to you, to you
Over to you
Future looks blue
What can I do?
Tears filled of sadness
Stealing myself
Which burning secrets?
What to they tell?
Mad politicians
Can tell it true
I handed my children
Over to you
All over, over to you
All over, over to you
All over, over to you...
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Was Made For Loving You
Back when I was dating Rich,
he gave me Kiss’s guitar pic.
Gene Simons handed it to him,
in the 1978 recording session.
“I Was Made For Loving You Baby”
the song they were recording at the time,
Gene was playing the bass and singing just fine.
Now if I google the price of this guitar pic,
It would be the price of ten times 9.
But I’m not selling I’m sorry to say,
I will play my guitar with it someday.
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Was Made For Loving You
Back when I was dating Rich,
he gave me Kiss’s guitar pic.
Gene Simons handed it to him,
in the 1978 recording session.
“I Was Made For Loving You Baby”
the song they were recording at the time,
Gene was playing the bass and singing just fine.
Now if I google the price of this guitar pic,
It would be the price of ten times 9.
But I’m not selling I’m sorry to say,
maybe I will play my guitar with it someday.
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Ghost In His Guitar
Down the drain pipe cross the yard and through the fence
I risked a whoopin' every time I went
'Cause white boys weren't allowed
On the colored side of town
But I was proud to call
That old black man my friend
He had a pillow by the bed he used to pray on
And a beat up old guitar he let me play on
I knew where my fingers went
From his greasy fingerprints
Yeah, he was passin' on
What was handed down to him
(Chorus)
And it soaked up all the blood and sweat and teardrops
And the beers he missed in smokey little bars
And sometimes that old man he comes alive in my hands
I feel the beating of his sad old broken heart
Just like there's a ghost in this guitar
A ghost in this guitar
Well, the night before he died he made me take it
He said, "You play it now, 'cause I gotta go"
And I can feel him in my fingers when I play it
'Cause sometimes I'm in control
And sometimes I just sit back
And let him go
Sit back and let him go
(Repeat Chorus)
Take a listen to the ghost in this guitar
song performed by by Keith Urban
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It ill becomes a carpenter to be heavy-handed, a smith to be shake-handed, or a physician to be tenderhearted.
Left-handed Blows
Don’t rely on competence, for strength
come from unlearned blows that are left-handed;
until you learn to improvise at length
you short the truth and cannot understand it.
Inspired by a saying of Walter Benjamin: “These are days when no one should rely on his competence. Strength lies in improvisation. All the decisive blows are struck left-handed.”
5/21/09
poem by Gershon Hepner
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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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Lefties
?
In the very beginning
when God made woman and man,
He realized some were smarter
and devised a glorious plan.
He gathered the intelligent,
and to tell them from the rest,
made them all left handed
to identify His best.
So when you see a lefty,
please give your due respect,
and try not to be offended
by their greater intellect.
Don't fret if you're right-handed,
even though there is no cure,
God still loves you greatly…
He just loves lefties more.
poem by Ron Tranmer
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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
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One's Activities Will Be Made Known
'Is there a real difference between,
Self promotion and self satisfaction? '
Well...
Wouldn't that depend on if you are left
Or right handed?
Me,
I am right handed.
Although my left is the busiest.
So I think it has a lot to do with preference.
'What on Earth are you talking about? '
I'm talking about selling books.
It's difficult for an unknown author,
To get established.
I use to carry them around in my right hand.
But for some reason my left hand ends up,
Doing all the work.
WHY?
What are 'you' talking about?
'I'm talking about pride!
Not one's ego.'
Either way...
Eventually,
One's activities will be made known.
If they remain persistent.
And stick with it!
Whatever we're talking about,
There will be satisfaction.
That's a given.
'What about promotion? '
If it is good.
And someone is left pleased?
Your efforts and sweat will be rewarded.
But...
I do suggest you stop the smoking.
At least cut down on it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Smile
Smile, youll steal away my soul
Smile, Ill hide away and cry
My minds made up
I will shudder to see your eyes
Smile no doubt Ill keep my pride
But it may be hard to find
Theres nothing left
Handed down your legacy
But more regret
Painted on with empathy
Smile, dont complicate my time
Smile dont ask me if Im fine
My world blown down
There is nothing that words can say
Smile, no doubt Ill keep my pride
But it may be hard to find
Theres nothing left
Handed down your legacy
But more regret
Painted on with empathy
Theres nothing left, theres nothing left
Smile, youll steal away my soul
Smile, Ill hide away and cry
Theres nothing left
Handed down your legacy
Smile, youll steal away my soul
Smile, Ill hide away and cry
Theres nothing left
Handed down your legacy
Smile, no doubt Ill keep my pride
But it may be hard to find
If only you had tried
Going to leave it far behind
It may be hard to find
If only you had tried
Going to leave it far behind
song performed by by Olive
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gene & Richie's Guitar Pics
Back when I was dating Rich
he gave me one of Kiss's guitar pics.
Gene Simons handed it to him-
-in the 1978 recording session.
"I Was Made For Loving You Baby"
the song they were recording at the time
Gene was playing the bass and singing just fine.
Now if I google the price of this guitar pic
It would be the price of ten times 9
-but I'm not selling mine.
I will play my pink guitar with it someday
By the way let me segue-
into the next poem on this page.
which is:
Richie Sambora's Guitar Pic
Pic is signed especially by him.
The guitar was made for-
"Stranger in this Town"
by Richie Sambora who is a Cowboy not a clown.
I got it from Rich who hung around
Richie in one of New Jersey's towns.
Anyways, buy Richie's CD on amzon.com
Buy.com or CD Baby so you can play it all night long-
-and also do remember this song—
"Runaway" which is my teenage favorite-
this is the song that made Bon Jovi become famous.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on March 30,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It was 1988, I believe, that I met Grit. We were both appearing in a Canadian Folk Festival and as we sat backstage he handed me his guitar. I played it, loved it, and then found out that he'd made it himself.
quote by Tom Chapin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wind Mills
Man-made gods single-headed
Attached to a detached bust
Synthesizing on top decored
Three- handed, two-handed deified
Whirling in slow motion
Standing at ease on four legs
Empowered to empower human needs
Whilst headless wind-God dispersedly
Diffusing, herding his rotor-children
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Giving It All Away
She never has to stop and think
Never makes you lose a thing
She is so enchanting
I always have to stop a while
Cross my hands and close my eyes
I am so demanding
When she smiles she opens wide
Touching you inside to lie
Life can be so shaking handed
Nervously you're shaking signs
Life is better taken blind
Still you're left so disenchanted
Giving it all away
Giving it all away
You always have to stop and think
Desperately to find something
That is even handed
I never want to think a thing
That shatters almost everything
Life can leave you hanging
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene from Ocean Colour Scene
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Asking Cynthia...
on the blank pages
i write nothing
on the wall i write
nothing
i only speak and
then leave
when i arrive here
i carry nothing and
thus give you nothing
when the hour comes
for departure
i travel light
as light as air passing
by your window
i take nothing too
for
empty handed i come
and empty handed shall i go
did you say that too
cynth?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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