My Guitar
With burdens bearing heavy down a road that's hard and long
My body's bent and weary so I'm reaching for a song;
My sorrows flicker - fading..., faint... - beneath the morning star,
While worried fingers seethe across the strings of my guitar.
Though seagulls fly forever, streaking, striving for the strand,
My troubles ebb, evaporate, with my guitar in hand;
Their turbulency's writhing neath the notes within the air -
And hunted by the haunting beat, they're vanquished everywhere.
With melodies erupting, bursting, splashing night with dawn,
The drifting dancing demons die, as time goes swirling on;
Guitars are roaming randomly across the rusty skies,
While cares have vanished, draped in dust of distant lullabies.
poem by Terry O'Leary
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Music of the porcupine musician
I wanted so much
to stroke his face
that he can see
how the music of the day
sparkle in freshwater
and as the notes
splash and plop
it would contain
the best melodies
but would I
be able to
do that now
that his words
are godless here
scorning lemonade
on trays
organ and accordion
he rattles
and rises
threatening
I know music
it's white and black
ringed pins it is
aardvark holes and tunnels
bark and bulbs
fruits and tubers it is
the flute's breath run out
the guitar's day tunes weary
the violin ceased to play
long before the day
could argue with the night
he started rattling his quills
rising heavy metal without guitar
will he ever know how notes
sparkle in soft water
once the loose long pins
of his comrades start
shooting randomly?
Lay Down Your Weary Tune
Lay down your weary tune, lay down,
Lay down the song you strum,
And rest yourself neath the strength of strings
No voice can hope to hum.
Struck by the sounds before the sun,
I knew the night had gone.
The morning breeze like a bugle blew
Against the drums of dawn.
Lay down your weary tune, lay down,
Lay down the song you strum,
And rest yourself neath the strength of strings
No voice can hope to hum.
The ocean wild like an organ played,
The seaweeds wove its strands.
The crashin waves like cymbals clashed
Against the rocks and sands.
Lay down your weary tune, lay down,
Lay down the song you strum,
And rest yourself neath the strength of strings
No voice can hope to hum.
I stood unwound beneath the skies
And clouds unbound by laws.
The cryin rain like a trumpet sang
And asked for no applause.
Lay down your weary tune, lay down,
Lay down the song you strum,
And rest yourself neath the strength of strings
No voice can hope to hum.
The last of leaves fell from the trees
And clung to a new loves breast.
The branches bare like a banjo played
To the winds that listened best.
I gazed down in the rivers mirror
And watched its winding strum.
The water smooth ran like a hymn
And like a harp did hum.
Lay down your weary tune, lay down,
Lay down the song you strum,
And rest yourself neath the strength of strings
No voice can hope to hum.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
My Lonely Guitar
At a corner my guitar waves her hand
inviting me to pick her up, to strum her
strings, to find out if all her chords
blend in harmony with my fingers.
It is waving her hand before my eyes
as in those birthdays, meetings, teaching,
and parties where her strings were made
busy to play melodies to people around.
Tonight she waves her hand again
calling me to play with her our common
game of songs which others can sing along.
But I just cannot play with my guitar today.
For whatever reason let this lonely night
find out; let me sleep and let sweet melody
sleep with me in my dreams and
let my guitar help me find the right chords
for my lonely song.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Song of the waterfalls
As I hold this guitar of mine
while looking up the waterfalls,
I noticed
that the splashing water to the lichened stones
were attuned to the melodic lore
like I never heard before.
As the air moved slowly
and as the tune grew gradually,
my keen ear noticed something
which in effect fascinating.
The water jumped like notes
filled with gladness.
Slowly, gently and eagerly
my fingers pluck the strings
of my guitar and followed the tunes.
Those were melodies of love,
those were sent by the heaven above,
to conquer your heart
for a brand new start.
poem by Winston Soldevilla
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Hear Guitars a' Calling
I hear guitars a' calling in the gloaming's final fling
When sinking suns relay their flames to fairies on the wing
Igniting one by one the jewels of midnight's diamond blaze
As day becomes a yawning ash beneath a starry gaze.
I hear guitars a' calling from the clouds within the skies,
With tunes which flow as purple drops from sad and weepy eyes
Of silent speaking troubled souls who stand alone in grief,
But hold the vastness of the stars within a trembling leaf.
I hear guitars a' calling from the beat beneath her breast,
The murmur throbs of passion and a sensuous unrest
That rumbles deep in silent woods before the raging storm
And splits the air in morning meadows bursting green with corn.
I hear guitars a' calling in the gentle splashing rain,
Which summons with a soothing purr upon my window pane
And conjures up a childhood dream within a vagrant breeze
Entwining me in cryptic webs of misty vortices.
I hear guitars a' calling from the waves on distant shores;
They're crashing out their monody upon the mystic oars
Of phantom ships within the dawn and midnight caravels,
A' sail on seas of raven wings to moonlit citadels.
I hear guitars a' calling in the morning's reveilles;
They're pouring fires in the skies and burning up the seas,
While waking flowers in the fields and setting trees ablaze,
And closing one by one the eyes of midnight's starry gaze.
I hear guitars a' calling from the deserts of my mind;
They're howling of a hollow land adrift on empty time
Where pathless sands are blazing hot, the sun is standing high,
A thirsting dog is barking faint' with tongue that's long and dry.
poem by Terry O'Leary
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Eternal Circle
I sang the song slowly
As she stood in the shadows
She stepped to the light
As my silver strings spun
She called with her eyes
To the tune is a-playin
But the song it was long
And Id only begun
Through a bullet of light
Her face was reflectin
The fast fading words
That rolled from my tongue
With a long-distance look
Her eyes was on fire
But the song it was long
And there was more to be sung.
My eyes danced a circle
Across her clear outline
With her head tilted sideways
She called me again
As the tune drifted out
She breathed hard through the echo
But the song it was long
And it was far to the end
I glanced at my guitar
And played it pretendin
That of all the eyes out there
I could see none
As her thoughts pounded hard
Like the pierce of an arrow
But the song it was long
And it had to get done
As the tune finally folded
I laid down the guitar
Then looked for the girl
Whod stayed for so long
But her shadow was missin
For all of my searchin
So I picked up my guitar
And began the next song
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Away From My Moody Attitudes
The strumming of strings,
Heard on...
Your guitar,
Expands my mind with your melodies...
No matter if I'm moody.
Or...
Hard to please.
The strumming of strings,
Heard on...
Your guitar,
Expands my mind with your melodies...
No matter if I'm moody.
Or...
Hard to please.
To witness the dew with mist lifting,
In the early morning dawn...
Comes to deliver a fresh acceptance,
With...
A feeling I can't miss,
To let drift away or go on with a need in me...
Internally I ssek to feed as if feasting.
The strumming of strings heard on your guitar,
Delivers a fresh acceptance with...
A feeling I just can't let,
Escape away.
I am not promised a repeating of these unique days.
The strumming of strings heard on your guitar,
Delivers a fresh acceptance with...
A feeling I just can't let,
Escape away.
Only you can move me,
In the way you do...
Away from my moody attitudes.
Only you can move me,
Away from my moody attitudes.
Only you can move me,
In the way you do...
Away from my moody attitudes.
Only you can move me,
In the way you do.
To give me what's overdue.
Only you can move me,
In the way you do.
To give me what's overdue.
Away from my moody attitudes.
And...
Only you can move me,
To give me what's overdue.
Away from my moody attitudes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Boy With His Guitar
Putting his little fingers,
on the strings of his guitar,
a serene boy looked to the sky,
pointed his eyes to stars,
while the night growing in dreams,
he brought his art to extremes,
and notes began floating to the heavens,
the empty silence filled all,
with sweet rhythm of his thought,
and dew drops coming down like mists,
and musk of heavens,
soothing around,
he paused for a while,
and told me with a smile,
my mother is living with stars,
she loves my guitars,
when i play my guitar,
she makes tears of dew,
i see her in colors and hue.
poem by Rafique Farooqi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Girl in my guitar
she comes to me every night into my dreams, .. the same as the night be-fore
dressed up she dances and sings all here words to me so presish and sweet
she is the one I adore...
i wake from the dream with her there laying sound asleep like the every night before
i know when she sleeps she can tell thats shes next to me as she pulls her self closer
inside of my arms
oh love you are my girl.....
forever you have my heart
for as long as were on this world...
you 'll be the girl in my guitar
no matter how long apart...
no matter just where you are....
your the best that i've had by far.....
ohhh the girl in my guitar.....
the girl in my guitar
(VERSE 2)
she lights up a room like a the the sun reflecting off the moon.. like a lantern that burns
inside
shes the furnace that warms all the cold that i 've felt before the feelings she create for
me it's so hard to hide
her sweet supple lips to her goosebump-giving fingertips keeps the spark that we share
alive..
her silk flowing hair to the sexy little things she wears...keeps me excited til the
moment she arrives
(CHORUS B)
ohh love you are my girl....
forever you have my heart.....
as long as were on this world, ..
you'll be the girl in my guitar...
no matter how long apart...
no matter where you are...
your the best that i've had by far....
ohhh the girl in my guitar...
the girl in my guitar
(VERSE 3)
the love that we share and the way that she shows she cares it's never been shown
before
like an angel above she has showered me with endless love shes my drug of choice
she keeps me coming back for more
i'll sing her her song as she lays there she'll sing along... with every word i say..
as two melt to one all my defenses all overcome for we'll be together forever never
been this sure
(CHORUS 3)
ohh love you are my girl....
forever you have my heart.....
as long as were on this world, ..
you'll be the girl in my guitar...
no matter how long apart...
no matter where you are...
your the best that i've had by far....
ohhh the girl in my guitar...
the girl in my guitar
the girl in my guitar...
poem by Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Selling the Guitar
The old strings of this guitar
they argue with my fingers
Perhaps the E string
with its proud tone
has better things to do
Maybe one night
this guitar
chose to become a piano
or speak other languages
Someone put the words
Out of tune
It no longer understands me
Now the songs refuse to be heard
Now things don't sound the same
And this guitar, I'm selling-
Perhaps has something against my fingers.
poem by Elvis Lantan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Simplicity Of The Music Of The Spirit
attuned
i pluck the strings of guitar
and music
is soothing as usual
my spirit soars
leaving a painful body behind
now it is
the song that plucks the guitar
strings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Guitar Hummmmmmssssss Anew
MY GUITAR HUMMMMMMSSSSSS ANEW
melvin Banggollay
My old guitar had been hanging on the wall
for so long since the time I lost my balls
to sing the passion of my loving heart
as I did before my sorrows deeply starts
When I used to sing the sweetest melody
my tender hearts loved to emit and play
while my dear love hummed besides
with loveliness I thought never supsides.
Yes, dust of pains embroidered my guitar
when I had not sung with it like a superstar
and his strings can't even echo a sound
as dust so thick stuck by decades round
but now when I behold a new love's glare
upon a poets charm full of wisdom's clear
I begun to strum my old guitar's to renew
my ardent desire to love someone new.
poem by Melvin Banggollay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Remember Me
Remember me
Maybe tonight, just for this moment
Well feel the same things, we did before
Just close your eyes, and let me show you
Youll be my reason, and Ill be yours
Remeber me
Well, Im the boy that stood in line for
Have you got just a little time for me tonight
Ill make you feel alright
Hey do you remember me
Remember when
The world was ours for just one evening
Felt so warm, its hard believing
That it would end
And here we are again
Hey do you remember me
Remember how
Music filled the empty spaces
And took us off to distant places
Wed never seen
Do you remember now
I still got my song and I can sing it
My guitar plays beneath my fingers
Warm, baby warm, baby warm
Say, do you remember me
Well, Im the boy you gave your heart to
Dont you think weve been apart too long this time
But youve been on my mind
Say, do you remember me
Remember how
Music filled the empty spaces
And took us off to distant places
Wed never seen
Do you remember now
I still got my song and I can sing it
My guitar plays beneath my fingers
Warm, baby warm, baby warm
Say, do you remember me
- remember me
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Stars In His Eyes
Teen wearing cool shades while he waits,
waits at to learn electric guitar to be great.
Be a great guitar player with 'Stars in his Eyes'
his guitar glows on stage late at night.
Teen waiting at Marathon Guitar Center store,
learning guitar from Rich,
to be better than before.
I told teen as I went out the door.
'You are in inspiration to me, '
as we both held on to our guitars,
'You will one day be a great rock star'.
Teen smiled and then Rich added,
'He will give you tickets to the front row-
to his sold out 'Rock Guitar Show'.
Teen smiled to Rich's reply,
I knew this teen could reach for the skies,
and be the 'Guitar Player with Stars in his Eyes.'
Written Suzae Chevalier on January 28,2012
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Lyric to My Son and His Guitar
A Lyric To My Son and His Guitar
strum...
Strum the strings of your brown guitar;
Brings me to the music star lively as you are.
Far in the awful nights in an hour of silence
Plays me a song with ease and delight.
Plays no more a sad song,
Let the people hear only a refrain;
Of the imperial tune.
Strum...
Strum the strings of your brown guitar
Brings the world to the music star lively as you are...
poem by Elvira Marchan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Encumbered
speak in a tin jar
make sounds dine
in plopping cool
water drops fine
and guitar's echo of the ear
roll into thirsty souls
the bronze that I hear
a sound like cool
little liquid bridges
in a pool
a pile
of priests
meet
in a world at war
calling strong rivers
from afar
four
strumming the strings
of the brown guitar
speaking a tin beat
and songs like cool
little bridges in a pool
ordain white and black
in the season of the street
they who play the guitars
splashing hope they who meet
encumbered feet
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
Vote! | Copy!