'riffs' poems - Hello Poetry

Nicole Sep 2018

Love Drug

Nicole Sep 2018

I can barely stand certain music now
Each song holds a memory locked into it
Multi-Love for instance
It's fitting that I'm burning incense right now
Because this song brings me back to December
You were into hookah at that point
The sweet and smoky scents danced around us
As your sonos speakers
Cascaded those guitar riffs into our ears
I thought you were ecstasy
But you became an addiction
And like that smoke in my lungs
You burned me instead

#ex #abusive #music #memories #drugs #addicted #hurt #heartache

Tawanda Mulalu Jul 2015

Who?

Tawanda Mulalu Jul 2015

Who?

O
The Who
belted out adolescent
stress
through edgy
guitar riffs
like they still had
pimples
long after they
became
famous.

And me
I
I
often forget
that
I'm
I'm
supposed to be
becoming
a
Man
or something
like that.

My hands are bleeding surely:
my guitar pick isn't my fingers
but soon I'll write these nonsensicals
in blood. But nobody should scream
out for that. Nobody should buy
my words like rock-albums.
Nobody should ask Who
is he and Who
am I because

me
I
I
often forget
that
I'm
I'm
supposed to be
becoming
a
Man
or something
like that.

While
The Who
O
The Who
belt out
out adolescent
stress
through edgy
guitar riffs
like they still have
pimples
long after
becoming
famous

like Who?

Awesome band.

#who #rock #adolescence #thewho

Fah May 2014

chess

Fah May 2014

chess

Beg
sometimes
please
dripped pleasure
a game of chess
pieces, our bodies
board, the cosmos

River soft merging
with adored gentle
roughness, seductive
riffs abound

another one from the small notebook series that keeps turning up at the back of my notebooks often along with a drawing :) yay for writing on the move and on the subway and at the desk and under the covers :)

#chess

Taylor Aug 2013

riffs

Taylor Aug 2013

riffs

I don't mean to say all of these wordy riffs
All I'm trying to say is that
I want the tufts of your hair
in my brittle open hand
I want my fingers in every nook,
Every room in your mind
I want something to latch onto
When our bodies are rendering smoke

Zach Gomes Apr 2010

The Musician and the Businessman

Zach Gomes Apr 2010

The Musician and the Businessman

It’s early Friday afternoon and,
over plates of greasy spoon dinner,
the musician and the businessman
repeat their weekly ritual.
The businessman has his problems at home
and spills his guts to his musician friend.
“It’s been a real long time coming,
but she’s still been such a bitter *****.”
They’ve met this way since
their college days and nights
spent studying the bottoms
of whiskey bottles.  And, as usual,
the businessman’s hair sits sprawled
on his head like a rag, and his tie
is loosened.  The musician doesn’t understand
divorce: “You look like hell.
You know, if you need a place to stay,
Helen and I and the boy
can always make some room for you.”
They light a pair of cigarettes and wait
for a waitress to kick them out.

Into the haze of a Lower East Side crowd
the musician and his band play
his newest pieces, riffs on the happy swagger
of the Duke.  His critics—
and he has many—
write that his jazz sings
the inescapable ******* of suffering
through the life of every oblivious body,
which makes the musician’s music
sound more like the blues
than jazz.  But it’s jazz all the same
and perhaps it was the intensity
of the growling bass that shot
spirits down the throats in the audience,
reeling drunk in time to the beat
of the musical suffering.

The weekdays die and it is Friday again.
He has a big view of midtown,
the businessman, and though the window the falling
sun horizons over his socked toes,
parked on his desk in triumph over
all those stockholders.  It’s a pain
to lose your family,
but the businessman puts on
a good face, and drinks.

This Friday, the musician and the businessman
are not in the mood for talking.
But a scotch thrown down,
and the two are tighter than
thieves.
The businessman complains of life at home
and the musician’s eyes cross.

That night, the musician skips his performance.
His wife cries in their bed,
shuddering with worry and asking him
what makes him so distant? she asks—
it’s a mystery even to himself.
He is sweating whiskey—
which suits him fine—
and he spends his night on the bridge.

One week later and it is Friday, finally.
Today, the businessman will see
his children at his former home
for the last time for a handful of months
at best.  The musician has not been home
for three days.  He stays at a friend’s apartment,
puts on his ***** blazer
and a record of the Duke’s
before he throws himself down the airshaft.
The businessman jumps on the 5:44
out of town and calls his friend the musician
to cancel their usual Friday meeting,
but his phone keeps ringing,
ringing, ringing, ringing, ringing.

darling iridescence Jan 2015

|| sound waves ||

darling iridescence Jan 2015

|| sound waves ||

it's simple really, nostalgia is buried in a melody
the same way humans are put in coffins--
deliberately heart-wrenching, a science.
an old transistor radio climbs lazily in the background,
buzzing, humming but then hear it--
blank stares as the road carries on, gradually,
slow mascara rivulets kiss cheeks like the intimacy long forgotten only to come rushing back--
songs that we said were ours were never ours to have,
an old familiar lyric that we claimed to spell destiny,
auditory memories that taunt and torture:
the chorus only instigates barbed thorns to lonesome hearts,
major chords aren't happy,
but cause discordance--
clenched fists on the steering wheel, you must pullover--
you can't pause or rewind, you can't stop--
yes, change the channel--
but the music still plays, and the riffs hang in your head,
remembered and reminisced over static--
but nothing is white noise when the final notes linger on your auditory palette,
the taste like the stare of a cold gravestone...

but even colder still,
the empty seat next to you.

ouch.

#hurt #remember #thought #nostalgia #song #memory #radio #ours

kiera Jul 2014

I want to go to a record store with you

kiera Jul 2014

I want to go to a record store with you

I want to go to a record store with you
we can spend the little money we have left
on The Smiths, The Rolling Stones, The Who, Pink Floyd
for an hour or two we can be angsty teens in the 80s
who drink cheap beer and steal our parents cars
lets pretend were running away
from home, from school, from everything we know
I wanna lay on the floor of your apartment
put a record on the turntable and hear that sweet crackle
we'll listen to what we've bought
and pretend we're watching the stars through the ceiling
they'll dance to the beat like a laser show in our eyes
while mind blowing guitar riffs and drum beats fill our spirits

-kk

#music #records #80s

Meg B Mar 2015

Astronomy

Meg B Mar 2015

Astronomy

Months have gone by and still
you echo in my black hole,
your lips still brushing mine
in the wind that caresses my face,
your voice whispering through
the riffs and chords of songs,
your body visible in the contours of trees,
your face in the curves of the clouds,
and looking up desperately at
the night sky,
I envision you glancing at the same stars,
your soul having been imprinted permanently
on the Earth's ceiling,
so even when I close my eyes
you linger in the corners of my mind,
a universe of
constellations and planets,
galactic clusters of
immortal memories and undying
desires.
Months have gone by as I
continue to orbit around
the memory of you,
tilting onto your axis,
spinning round and round as
I try desperately to get back
to you, but you're
galaxies away.

#love #metaphor #you #earth #planets #unrequitedlove #missingyou #analysis #astronomy #solarsystem

Aa Harvey Apr 2018

Apathy

Aa Harvey Apr 2018

Apathy

Apathy

Don’t tell me how to feel, when I feel like this;
Don’t tell me that you’re happy, when I’m so depressed.
Don’t sit there with your girlfriend, giving her a kiss;
Because I just don’t care, about your life of bliss.

I do not care for your sympathy,
Because I live in a town called Apathy.
The town of no-hopers and the town I’m in;
The ****** little town called Apathy.

So don’t sit there with a smile upon your face.
Don’t dare utter those words:
‘The world is such an amazing place.’
Because I live in the rain and I feel like ****.
The sun never shines down on Apathy.

So I do not care for your sympathy,
Because I live in a town called Apathy.
The town of no-hopers and the town I’m in;
The ****** little town called Apathy.

If you feel the same as me;
Or you live in a town like Apathy.
A town of losers; a town of ****!
Then come with me down to Apathy.

Let’s take it over and change a few things.
Let’s welcome only rockers and eject all the trendies.
Let’s all sit down and smoke a spliff.
Let’s drink tequila and rock a few riffs.

I do not care for your sympathy,
Because I live in a town, called Apathy.
The town of no-hopers and the town I’m in;
The ****** little town called Apathy…

Yeah, I live in a town called Apathy,
And it has become like home to me,
For I never want to live outside Apathy,
Because I only care about, the cool people and me.

(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

#feelings #apathy #depression #town #rain #drugs #music #song #lyrics

Marlo Jun 2014

Rock n roll high

Marlo Jun 2014

Rock n roll high

And honestly,
At this moment
All that's running through my head,
Is rock n' roll,
And near memories..
Cotton candy sky,
And oxygen breeze.
My droopy eyes
Are that of relaxation,
Not any earth-grown happiness.
My slow heart beat is smooth sailing,
Not candy-like pills.
natural high
So beautiful in a way,
But darling..
Do you remember being high with me?
High on life and love..
Together,
Our hearts beating a irregular tune.
But that's no longer,
So I sit and listen to angry melodies,
Screechy guitar riffs
And lay here,
High alone.
Not nearly good as being high with you,
I can no longer hear your heartbeat..
Nor mine..

I THOUGHT I was over him...guess not. Hm?
. *** .

#love #life #drugs #music #heartbeat #guitar #angry #high #melodies #rocknroll

Ryan Clark Sep 2018

Declaration in C#sus2

Ryan Clark Sep 2018

Declaration in C#sus2

If to you music is Euphoric
Then to me you are music
Like a needle in a groove
My heart kicks like a drum
Double petal
Metal
It's almost mental
So good I'm off tempo
Lost in an ocean of bass riffs
Based
Cought by your waves like a music castaway
Overcame by your frequency
I could change the station
Hum a different tune
But it would be no use
I'm addicted
As if hearing music for the first time
All I can do is close my eyes
Let my ears guide my wayward heart
As I fall in love with you

I have two friends who wanted a fellow to write them a love declaration. He never came through so I figured I'd pick up his slack ^.^ this one is dedicated to Chloe.

Find the other one here
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2698139/of-unicorns-and-mustangs/

#music #love #romantic #cliche #cheesey

Emily Kaminski Oct 2014

~The Dance Of My Body~

Emily Kaminski Oct 2014

~The Dance Of My Body~

I know I'm capable to do any type of dances, if I try.

But when the music plays, I dance freestyle.
It's not just 'any' freestyle,
it's the type that you know it's missing affection.
It's missing a partner to love.

As soon as I feel the rhythm going through me,
my body flows with it.
When the rhythm is crazy fast:
It makes me a wild cat,
seeing of how feisty and powerful my body can move.
But when it's a slow rhythm:
My body moves slowly and elegantly, yet tempting to go near it.
Either way,
It'll call out for you to TOUCH IT.

I'm known to be ONE of the GREATEST TEASERS in my groups of friends.
Because my deadliest weapons,
are my hips.

When the rhythm plays, it works up from my knees; which is the key to how my hips can move SSOOoo SMOOTHly, then it works up to my curved belly, then to my chest and arms.
The DEADLY body wave.

But what can REALLY GET ME GOING,
is when that guitar solo, the riffs
breaths heavy, then bites finger
OH GAWD THE SOLOS just makes me
LOOSE IT COMPLETELY!!!
Especially, the ones from 70s-80s,
it's a turn on for me.
My body will want MORE to feel it's melody,
for it to keep on playing!
OVER AND OVER AGAIN UNTIL I JUST drop on the floor from SATISFACTION.
With my face all red and my eyes all seduced.
My body burning up.
biting my bottom lip
mhmhm-heehee~

Sometimes when I dance on the pole or even using a chair I can imagine a person,
who's dancing with me.

One of the things that can win my full body's attention,
is when another body resist the temptations from falling into their wrong desires from me.
OR if that other body moves fluently with mine, without going any further, like under my clothes.
Simply just respect.

I may be a performer, but my mind says it differently.
So does others.
Our bodies want temptation and our minds wants to have trust and comfort.
You know what I'm saying.

Just because I'm a TEASER, doesn't mean I want YOU in BED.

That's why I'm deadly.
I torment people, by simply moving a piece of my body, then not letting them fulfill their DESIRES from me.
Sorry if you guys can't keep control of yourselves. Just work HARDER on THAT~
The only people who can HAVE ALL THAT from me, are the ones if in a relationship with or the ones I just REALLY LIKE ALOT~ ;)

I got a list of songs that can REALLY move me:
(Most of them are in the 70s-80s era,which ever has a nice guitar riffs)
Aerosmith- Rag Doll
Alannah Myles- Black Velvet
Nazareth- Goin' Loco, Hair Of The Dog
Warrant- Cherry Pie
Def Leopard- Pour Some Sugar On Me
Gary Wright- Dream Weaver(the mellow melody is what moves me)
Foreigner- Jukebox Hero
AC/DC- Honey Roll, Thunderstruck, Back In Black
Also there's more, but it's all I can think of right now.

Even some songs from today:
Pussycat Dolls- Buttons, Sway
Britney Spears(ver)- I love Rock 'n' Roll
****** XL ft. DATAROCK- Gloria
Lady Gaga- Do What You Want With My Body
Girlicious- Stupid ****
One Republic- Everybody Loves Me
Down With Webster- Woe Is Me
There's also others, but again, it's all I can think of~

Just to let you guys know, I'M NOT A STRIPPER WHATSOEVER!
It's just my dances are like that.(I know other girls dance like that too. Nothing to be ashamed off, just know your limits~)
I'm just a simple cashier at a store~ ;u;
Just remember that bodies and minds don't mix at times.
Promise me, not to play these songs around me, FOR MOSTLY YOUR SAKES, because IT'LL END UP IN DISAPPOINTMENTS!!!
Also TRY NOT TO COMMENT ANY PERVERTED THINGS!!
I know it's tempting, but just don't! PLZ!
Just keep your desires to yourself! QAQ

Cindra Carr Jan 2011

There's Nothing Special Here

Cindra Carr Jan 2011

There's Nothing Special Here

There’s nothing special here
Hearts are trampled by and by
Lost looks go searching for lost loves
There’s nothing special here
Long thoughts and short lives
Descending riffs rush by every day
There’s nothing special here
No tour bus stops for the lonely souls
Smoke drifts wafting lazily
Hazily the air never clears
There’s nothing special here
High times never made it through
The door stays shut as often as not
Slumped shouldered fools look down
Frowns etched sketched amid the lines
There’s nothing special here
Just lost souls and hazy minds
There’s nothing special here

cc0111

— The End —