Fado
Fado
What do we do with Fado, this guitar sound and
guttural Portuguese voice that has a twang of
Arabia in its heart and is pure poesy.
Life, loss longing and the finality of death, is in
songs that celebrate love’s unbearable sweetness,
our tragedy and the unobtainable.
Yes, sing me a Fado, let me hear the guitar and
I will close my eyes float in a sea of melancholy
and remember you.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Fado Singer
The Fado Singer
Our visitor was ninety two and could see far into the past
and into a future that held no trepidation.
Unaided she got up and sang us a Fado about love that
never lasts and the sorrow of defeat...
Melancholy, that’s Fado for you, but it’s also about how
sweet love is, and the art of acceptance
She lives in the shadow land of an impending ending
and what is new and timeless.
When she left she beckoned for me to kiss her, I bent down
to touch her cheek, but she kissed my loveless lips.
I was enamoured, and her eyes was clear as heaven;
a woman is forever a woman even at ninety two.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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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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Love Song For You
When I sing
with my voice,
Hearing the sound
from my soul
from my guitar
When I play guitar
with my fingers
hear the songs
from my lovers
from a remote place
When I shout
please hear my echo
hear my song
from the empty cave
When I whistle
hear my songs
from a ship and plane
from a temple
to sing my love song.
When I sing my story
to God and loved ones
Please hear and understand
the story of love
for You and Me.
This is the Love song
Specially For You, my dear,
Listen carefully,
follow your instinct
and intuition.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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Inside Of My Guitar
INSIDE OF MY GUITAR
Melvin Banggollay
When I saw my guitar hanging on the wall
It reminds me that once I do sung with joy
as I passionately air a melody one can enjoy
while my guitar hummed songs I can't recall.
Come inside of my guitar
There's a garden full of star
Shinning to tingle your desire
To hear me even you're afar
For the wind will surely whisper
deep in your hear to remember
my love to thee will be forever.
But now my guitar solemnly rest in the wall
with no sweet tune to hum one can enjoy
For my heart could no longer feel the joy
to air tender melody I love to sing and recall.
I buried my desire to sing forever
For you are no longer here to hear
the love songs I used to proudly offer
whenever we are enjoying together
Sharing melody with my old guitar
that one can even hear from afar
as the wind loved to share its nectar.
poem by Melvin Banggollay
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An Emigre
I have lived in this foreign country long, perhaps longer
then I should. Many seasons I have seen, my hair is grey
brow wrinkled from seeking understanding. I know their
culture and sing their songs. But I came here as an adult,
I have read Fernando Pessoa, know Fado and can talk
about my favourite singers. Yet, this culture is not in my
soul it does not echo in my heart. I wanted to be a part of
my new Iberian country, but when I remember a lullaby
my mother used to sing a cold Nordic winter night; when
guests have gone home and the party is over, I know I’m
forever a pretender. I have lived here long, too long, but if
I go to back to the old country I will be a stranger walking
in a town where no one knows my name and I’ll dream of
my mythical Portugal.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Music of the Stars
(to Johnny Alegre)
I heard you first as I walked by
Abelardo Hall
The faint strains of a lead guitar
I just could not ignore
Quietly I entered
the large dim-lit hall
Soon I sat there feeling
What I've never felt before
It was the sound of longing
through the strings of your guitar
A man surrendering his heart
A traveller soul-searching
reaching for the stars
A prayer from the heart
You didn't know me back then
But I can tell you now
The music that possessed you
Took me in its power
For on that day a wayward flame
Touched my very soul
And to this day it haunts me still
A song from long ago
It was the sound of longing
though the strings of your guitar
That echoed the longing in my heart
I know I won't forget
That mystical guitar
That song of timeless distant stars
poem by Sonya Florentino
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My Own Fairytale
my fairytale is beautiful it is the only thing that is my own
there are trees and wild flowers with little fairies
there are love bugs and butterflies
i sit on a log and play my guitar and sing beautiful songs
the fairies gather around to hear the beautiful noise
but my fairytale is dead now and has no color
only because my heart is broken and i broke a string on my guitar
and i sit on this log weeping and waiting for someone
to restring my guitar and to repair my heart
as if that will ever happen........................................... ...........................! ? !
poem by Breanna Wilson
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This Old Guitar
This song appears on eight albums, and was first released on the back home again album, and has also been released on the greatest hits vol 2, favourites, the country roads collection and the ro
Ountain collection albums. live versions also appears on the an evening with john denver, country classics and the wildlife concert albums.
This old guitar taught me to sing a love song
It showed me how to laugh and how to cry
It introduced me to some friends of mine
And brightened up some days
It helped me make it through some lonely nights
Oh, what a friend to have on a cold and lonely night
This old guitar gave me my lovely lady
It opened up her eyes and ears to me
It brought us close together
I guess it broke her heart
It opened up the space for us to be
What a lovely place and a lovely space to be
This old guitar gave me my life my living
All the things you know I love to do
To serenade the stars that shine
From a sunny mountainside
Most of all to sing my songs for you
I love to sing my songs for you
Yes, I do, you know
I love to sing my songs for you
Words and music by john denver
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Learning To Live Alone And Be Happy
in my little Bisayan town
the guitar strings are loose
and the sound
becomes musically challenged
i will be having a hard time
with my lyrics
and choice of pitch
because of this faulty guitar
and this
hardheaded guitarman
one day i decided to sing alone
less the guitar
and the guitarist
and then i learned to live
and sing
without so much fuss
without
any need for a guitar
or any accompaniment
surprisingly
i can sing alone and yet
still be in tune
without things
without so many people
yes, it is this solitude
and the rest becomes mere surplusage
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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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
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Katy Brought My Guitar Back Today
Katy brought my guitar back today.
I left it there to play, when I'd stay over.
And I remember all those nights
Sitting in the fireplace light,
And how she loved to hear me play;
Katy brought my guitar back today.
Katy brought my guitar back today.
I've seen it make her cry, over and over.
She told me when I wasn't there,
And she would wake up feelin' scared,
She'd hold it in her arms and be okay;
Katy brought my guitar back today.
We had our stormy times like anybody else;
Oh, more than once I broke her heart.
And when I couldn't tell her I was sorry by myself;
I could tell her with an old guitar.
But, I'm afraid this time things have gone too far.
Katy brought my guitar back today.
I guess that means this time it's really over.
And as I sit and play it now,
The songs all seem so sad, somehow,
I wish that I'd of left it in the case
Katy brought my guitar back today.
And I remember all those nights
Sitting in the fireplace light,
And how she loved to hear me play;
Katy brought my guitar back today...
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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
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
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Komrij's Fado
Komrij's Fado
A message moving,
lifting hands shifting
through the sky
alike a boat
drifting
on a sea
of eternity.
Smell that scent,
the fragrant roses
of poetry promises
and of coming proses,
and tears
and breathless rain
for Holland's Mozes,
departure of our beloved literator and poet, columnist etc Gerrit Komrij
poem by Madrason writer
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Yellow Guitar
It’s nothing but me now and these strings
There’s nothing holding me in between
I bought this yellow guitar
And now its stole my heart
There’s nothing but your voice echoing in my head
And nothing to complain to
Yeah I bought this yellow guitar
To sing to you
Cause I got all these words circling my mind
Got to many nights I stayed awake to cry
There’s nothing but these strings now to prove who we are
Im left holding this yellow guitar
Cupids arrow has struck me hard
Surprised how much I am in love
With this yellow guitar
poem by Christy Harris
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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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If I Were An Object
If I were an object
I would be a guitar
So that my man would hold me
Close to his heart
He'll hold me, carress me
Touch me, fondle me
And I'll have no recourse but to sing
The sweetest song he'll ever hear
If I were an object of desire
I'd be his guitar
For I know he will never go far
I'll be his sole obsession
a life-long affliction
Subject to his unwavering
affection and dedication
I will conquer his soul
He will be my possession
In return I will grant him
His longed-for absolution
And he will never want to put me down
For he can never get enough of that sound
The notes he'll never reach
The song that makes him weep
The sound of a woman...
... still sighing... while he sleeps....
© 2009 Sonya Florentino
poem by Sonya Florentino
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Playing The Guitar
Oh what a joy to hear him
play the guitar and sing!
When he sings and
play the guitar,
he puts his heart and
soul into it.
Oh what a voice!
I could hear him all day
all night
and never get tired.
He entranced me by his music.
His music is like
listening to angels
plucking the harp.
That’s how good he is
he doesn’t think so!
I know better!
For I should know! I should know!
He’s my husband.
For I am his number one fan.
poem by Noreen Ann Jenkins
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