I Am.... (The Fingers Of Love)
i am the fingers of love...
unlatching the door,
with silent determination.
unbuttoning your blouse,
tracing the line of your neck,
stroking your hidden fire.
playing the strings
of your heart's old guitar,
picking up the pen,
and lighting the match.
digging in the dirt
to plant your dreams,
wiping the tears from
the lines beneath your eyes.
trembling as they tie the bow,
and reach out to touch your casket.
aching with the torrent of passion,
and the years of love's remembrance!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Cause I Love You
Music: Rudolf Schenker
Lyrics: Klaus Meine
My fingers walk all over you
I won't stop before you scream
Cause I love you
Cause I love you
I feel your body on my skin
You're the godess of my dreams
Cause I love you
Cause I love you
You're the sting that's in my flesh
When I am feelin down and low
That's why I love you
That's why I love you
I make you scream I make you cry
With all my heart and soul
That's why I love you
That's why I love you
She's the one who is crying we're flying
She cries bitter tears when I'm blue
She's the one who is screaming I'm dreaming
Tonight I will reach
Out for you...out for you
Totally electric fire
When I hold you in my arm
Cause I love you
Cause I love you
The only true love of my life
You're the owner of my heart
Cause I love you
Yes I love you
She's the one who is crying we're flying
We fly on the way to the stars
She's the one who is screaming I'm dreaming
When I reach you with... My guitar
...My guitar...My guitar...
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Such Is The Passion
Such is the passion the want of desire
To burn in the heart with fingers of fire
Wet lashes wrapped up, in a sweet velvet rose
To follow your heart where ever it goes
Such is the passion the heart strings to pull
That the cup runneth over, with emotions so full
To send you to heaven, the stars and above
To make senses reel in the sweet dance of love
Such is the passion in the depths of ones soul
Infuses ones mind and the dreams in the role
Of a lovers sweet kisses, to imprint its mark
Of secret assignations alone in the dark
Such is the passion the fire inside
Shines forth from the eyes, with nowhere to hide
Yet the heart and the mind, will tumble and fall
If signals mistaken, will then wither and stall.
poem by Graham Jones
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My Beloved In A Mosaic
Sinking into contemplation where soft words
fill body and mind while my love flows in a
turquoise stream as the sun's rays dance
among the dreams which are part of me
Seeing myself in all I love, the light passing
through my crystal lamp, the prism creating
a thousand rainbows like my soul reflecting
my beloved in a mosaic of interacting bits
The lamp symbol of my soul - I also see all
I love within; your eyes holding a thousand
dreams, my eyes replying with a thousand
more; my figurines, fairy and shepherdess
Representing belief in romance, you, my own
chimney sweep - my hand stroking your chin,
following the line of your brow - meeting the
need for a soft satin touch - and your hand
Softly teazing my neck; taking care of all we
love - offering each other the greatest gift:
my trust in your heart as I receive the trust
you have in me - what a wonderful bond
The link you have forged in the fires of your
heart and the throes of your passion - our
delight forevermore…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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I Dreamed.... (Hands)
i dreamed last night...
and all i could see were hands.
sometimes hard and calloused,
sometimes soft and feminine.
skilled hands, laborer's hands,
loving hands, nurturing hands....
fingers digging in the dirt,
fingers holding a pen.
fingers playing a piano,
fingers unbuttoning blouses.
hands extended, hands gripping the rope,
hands holding the shovel,
hands covered with resin.
hands folded in prayer,
hands balled into fists.
hands stuffed in empty pockets.
hands that define both history,
and destiny!
hands scarred and bruised,
hands covered with age spots.
hands that speak many languages.
hands that know mistakes, and failures.
hands that built fires,
hands that put fires out!
hands that wiped away tears,
that picked up trash,
and revealed souls....
whose hands?
my hands, your hands?
god's hands?
does it really matter?
hands engaged and involved,
in the very act of living!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Strumming The Strings Of My Heart
I watch you play,
Making a beautiful tune
The strings of the guitar shaking
As you sit in the light of the moon
Your plucking the strings
With great ease
Making a flowing melody
A pretty song, just for me
I continue to watch
You playing your guitar
Making me love you
While your strumming the strings of my heart
These strings will never be touched
By anyone but you
You go where no one else can
Leaving a mark, like a tattoo,
Saying I LOVE YOU
poem by Katniss Everdeen
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Invisible Strings
(ian hunter)
One, two, three
Well I woke up this morning - theres a girl in my bed.
How did she get there? was it something I said?
I dont understand it but somehow it seems
She visits me in invisible dreams.
Over and over I try to explain
How did that girl get into my veins?
Did somebody send her - was it my velvet wings?
And how does she touch my invisible strings?
Invisible strings - invisible strings
These are a few of my favorite things
Now its all over when the fat lady sings
Ill still be playing my invisible strings
Well maybe she dont have a world of her own
Maybe shes using me just like a phone
And sometimes shes cool and sometimes she stings
And Im all tangled up in invisible strings
Invisible strings - invisible strings
These are a few of my favorite things
When youre wearing black and Im wearing wings,
Well still be playing those invisible strings
Well she never leaves - Im never alone
I aint in the book but shes still calling home
I tried to lose her - watch the tv
But that womans always picking on me
Well, theres strings round my body, strings round my heart
Id like to know where the string-pulling starts
Id give anything to meet the angel who sends
Invisible ink to my invisible pen
Invisible strings - invisible strings
These are a few of my favorite things
When youre wearing black and Im wearing wings,
Well still be playing our invisible strings
Invisible strings - invisible strings
These are a few of my favorite things
Now its all over when the fat lady sings
Well still be playing our invisible strings
Invisible strings - invisible strings
Oh yeah
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Guitar In A Stand
My guitar sits in a stand
rosewood neck
and maple bridge
chrome pegs
and stainless steel frets
six steel & brass strings
silent now
and no songs
for my fingers she longs
without regrets
upon her strings
a part of my heart
but she gives feelings in me wings
But there she sits silently
just an inanimate thing
that comes to life somehow
when I feel alone
and overfilled with the sadness
that life seems to bring
she makes me somehow
want to play and sing
through tears and everything
and in the end she says it's OK
somehow she understands
and now I look at her there
in her stand
and get up and walk across the room
to hold her in my hand
and play a little Bell Bottm Blues
and Little Wing
she allows this weary heart to sing
as if it meant something
I think when I'm dead and gone
this guitar will carry on
the memory of my feelings
and the memory of my hands
to another player
who has a similar feeling
and who understands
and listens to each note that rings
and makes them think of love and things
Or maybe it will have meaning to someone
or sit in a case or upon a wall
I wonder about it all
but me I hear something
between each note
as I bend the string and listen
a blue note
reminds me of you
and how your smokey eyes appear to glisten
and of your soft kind way
and from far away
my heart hesitates
and skips a beat
and dreams
and listens
and makes it's way to you
© James T. Adair
poem by James T. Adair
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Pain, Suffering, & Blue Tears
Pain enters his mind
Suffering tattooed on his heart
He grabs his guitar
Right from the start
Stroking the strings
He looks up to the stars
Wondering for moment
If she feels a sensation of their scar
And at that sullen second
Blue tears streak from his guitar
poem by Jocelyn Ann Flores
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Big Star
I don't want to be another big star
Picking at your cars
Stealing at your clothes
Finding out what you don't know
You don't know
I don't want to be your big star
Picking your calls; saying I don't know
I don't want to be your suitor
Lacking at your feet
Trying to love the things you need
And you know I've heard this before
And you know I've heard it some more
Won't you give me a chance
To break down your door
But I sit
Oh Oh
I still sit here
I don't want to be a tailor
Pricking at your thumb
Washing all the tears away
Some words
Oh no I believe they don't feel you
Picking up your dirt
Washing all your dreams away
(Repeat Chorus)
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene from Marchin' Already
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Folk Singer
His guitar hangs off of His neck
Like a tire on a rusty rim
Wooden rust, wind and dust
Rusty strings echoing a million voices
A hundred years old and underground
Dance beneath His calloused fingers.
Dance beneath the diamond sky
He is here to save us, though His knees buckle
Under the weight of His guitar
And His conscience.
He moans once,
And hollers at the facists that they are bound to lose,
All you fascists bound to lose
And then He starts strumming hard
Like it is our only salvation
And it might be.
poem by Patrick O'Reilly
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My Guitar And A Penutbutter Jar
I sit and play my guitar all day
as my fingers lay on the strings so tight
strumming it lightly
make sounds of pain
my fingers are bleeding but i dont care
the pain i feel inside is much stronger
why am i still alive?
can i take this any longer?
his voice tells me to keep playing on
my hearts want to die after my last song
i reach for the jar of penutbutter
they say there is happyness at the bottom
but they lie
the only thing i have left
is my guitar and an empty penutbutter jar
scrapping at the bottom as it keeps me busy
my hearts are screaming PICK UP THE BLADE! !
dont put it down because its the only happeness you will ever know
its hard to stop some times i give in and do it
the blood flowing from my wrist to my guitar
my tears mixing in
so maybe there is hapyness in
my self mutilation, my guitar
and at the end of an empty penutbutter jar
poem by Sandy Vanity
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It May Be A Fire
It may be a fire
Tomorrow it could be nothing
It may reach out to the sky
Light up everything that you know
Everywhere you go from now
You will see better than before
People youve not known for years
Will come knocking at your door
It may be a fire
But you gotta get it into your heart
It may be a warm wind
That tries to blow your heart away
It may walk into your life
Tell you everything that you know
Looking down through all the years
Making plans that have gone passed
Something youve not known for years
But you knew that it would last
It may be a fire
But you gotta get it into your heart
Im turning all the answers
Inside out
Looking for a love
That reaches out
Or the fire into your heart
It may be a fire
Tomorrow it may be nothing
It may reach up to the sky
Light up everything that I know
Everywhere I go from now
I will see better than before
People Ive known for years
Will come knocking at my door
It may be a fire
But you gotta get it into your heart
It may be a fire
But you gotta get it
You gotta get it
You gotta get it into your heart
It may be a fire
But you gotta get it
Into your heart
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spirit to Spirit
Spirit to Spirit
So many things have turned my spirit so.
Yet I do resist and yield to it yet.
Know that I give my strength for you to know.
Forget you? No, I shall never forget.
Left with my sandpaper dreams since you left.
Love lies in my spirit, for you my love.
Theft of your presence is not spirit theft.
Above all my dreams, I hold you above.
You now have returned, I knew it was you.
Waiting so long as my heart was waiting;
few have returned, yet you’re one of the few.
Aching for you as my soul was aching.
War takes so many; yet, you've beaten war.
Door of my spirit, come enter my door.
Author Notes:
Shadow Sonnet created by Amera M. Andersen may be written in any sonnet style. The Shadow takes place at the beginning and ending of each line as the words are identical.
14 lines
9 or 10 syllables per line
Should have a volta or pivit
Iambic pentameter is not necessary
poem by Amera Andersen
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Searching The Soul
Searching the soul strumming the guitar's sullen strings
Making music to resonate the sorrow of the moment
Roaming on the fret with fingers showing the feelings
Trying to blend the tears of grieving heart's sentiment
Searching the soul for the reasons of the event
Hoping to find the answers for what it meant
Searching the soul to find a way to repent
Trying to forget the bitter past of torment
Searching the soul for love of life that slipped away
Helpless victim of the fate of cruelty of the time
Playing the sad tunes with emotions that is in disarray
Crying in silence while playing the guitar twine
poem by Mittur Ramprasad
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Like Spanish Guitar?
She plays rhythm, he plays lead
Really strain their guitar strings
With incredible break-neck speed
Playing with passion n' with feeling
poem by Ray Lucero
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Searching For Soul
SEARCHING THE SOUL
Searching the soul strumming the guitar's sullen strings
Making music to resonate the sorrow of the moment
Roaming on the fret with fingers showing the feelings
Trying to blend the tears of grieving heart's sentiment
Searching the soul for the reasons of the event
Hoping to find the answers for what it meant
Searching the soul to find a way to repent
Trying to forget the bitter past of torment
Searching the soul for love of life that slipped away
Helpless victim of the fate of cruelty of the time
Playing the sad tunes with emotions that is in disarray
Crying in silence while playing the guitar twine
poem by Mittur Ramprasad
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To the girl I call thee
Passion's sword cut thy lines for beauty to trace
And beauty did trace with all loves fever
Thou art a woman whose dream is to dream forever
So in other dreams you dream with them too
And make all dreams dreams come true..
Lost for words I'll let love speak
My love for you, my love you make
With passion's sword thy slice my soul
For thou to wear, for love's sake
Two thousand tears for one moment of love
Doth not quench the thirst of my melancholic palette
I love you as next to me I subtly taste
Thy soul, with my soul's love in love chaste
Beauty in my limpid tears, thou love's mirror
In my tears, thou tears do sear
Thy burnt tears emblazon love to me
My beloved, my heart, the girl I call thee
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Strenght Of Our Love
The first day i set my eyes
on you we bond same ship
we sail like there is no tomorrow,
In this ship we merry some time
tears drops, in the middle of
stroms and massive wind mixed
with lighting we hold on. Together
we fought the pirates, that shows
the strenght of our love. Great waves
but it just can't stop us.As the ships
around us are sinking our determination
keeps ours flowing.sailors and captains
praise the beauty of our ship and our
determination to reach our destination.
poem by Enyinwa Okechukwu Enyinwa
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Lost Love Devalued
“In my heart I held a love
that tears could never wash away
nor parch in golden years.
In my heart
I held a love.”
Tumultuous torrent tears
could never wash away.
Nor parch petulant
in softly setting golden years.
My heart you shattered
my love you splattered.
In your moody quivering quest
for ever more material possessions.
Now you walk silent streets
in search of ever elusive love.
poem by Terence George Craddock (14 November 1996)
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Mother and Child
On one of the back benches in church
I see a young girl
unbuttoning the top of her blouse
with slender white fingers
to let her baby drink.
His sleepy blue eyes opens
and his small lips suck
on a swollen nipple
and mother and child
is framed into my mind
like the painting of the Madonna
and milk streams into him
while the congregation sings.
She gazes as through time
with uplifted head,
giving him power, the love of God
as if fixed to the spot while praying
and giving him milk.
She tenderly touch the baby
with every movement
echoing great love
and he settles sleeping
and a smile of tranquillity
is on her face.
poem by Gert Strydom
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