Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Heidi Franke Jun 3
Going on a rock tour
I'll leave you with the beats
in the ground.

Still, I will play for the crowd
Like I know what I am doing.

On return
Will I be home
Or was no one listening?

Cowering in corners
On lead guitar
And solo drums
MsRobota May 18
You like to pluck the
bones of my ribcage, with your callous
fingertips
Till they bleed
Like I
pluck the strings of my
backwards guitar, and watch the
flowers wilt away
Àŧùl Jan 31
You missed meeting me on May 7 in 2010,
You're one special memory among my men.

I rang you up before that accident,
And I knew not that I would fall then.

But you were depressed,
I looked to cheer you up addressed.

You were too gloomy,
You refused to accompany me.

I met with that accident,
And the rest is a historical dent.

The education system,
Me and you it did stem.

You found your calling,
Switched to highschool tuting.

I parried forward,
Kept crawling.

Though you gave up on your graduation,
I parried forward,
Yes, I carried my graduation forward.

A Bachelor of Technology degree takes 4 years,
I took 6, but it's fine, it's fine.

I'm proud of myself for not giving up,
When even bright students like you quit.

You kept your parents in the dark,
Never told them your true marks until they found it out by themselves.

Buddy, you could've just told me instead of quitting on it,
I could've made you study and work on yourself.

Look at me,
Just look at me.

I completed my B.Tech Biotechnology degree,
Instead of giving up even when my mother was not sure.

The whole world thought I could not complete my graduation,
But I even went to graduate school and obtained a postgraduate degree.

After I met with that accident, people suggested my parents,
To help set up a small shop for me to support my life beyond them.

But I never gave up,
I never gave up.

I can visualize Death waiting for me by my ICU bedside,
And I can also see it in anguish after getting defeated by my resilience.

Although I failed to obtain a PhD as COVID made me change my plans,
I bounced back in full glory and tasted worldly success.

I cracked not just one competitive recruitment exam,
But I cleared as many as 4 of them.

Now, old friend, I'm happy where you're headed to with your splendid performance at your coaching effort, yes, I respect your decision,
But you used to be smarter than I was at school.

We sang together,
Yes we did.

I played the guitar & sang,
You played the keyboard & sang more melodiously.

Oh, I remember what happened when we covered a popular song,
The Bollywood song is called “To Phir Aao.”

I started playing the riff,
“Tede-dede, Tede-dede,
Tede-dede, Tedede-Tede,”

But then your mobile went off,
“Ting-ding-ding, Tiding-ting,
Ting-ding-ding, Ting-tidingting.”

We had just begun it along my rhythm guitars & Digitech Effects Processor's electronic drums sampler on my Marshal amplifier,
You were prepared to start singing in your melodious voice,
But your phone started to ring as soon as we began.

Still we continued the recording after you rejected the call,
So, brother, did you forget the lesson we both taught ourselves?

Let the world be on fire,
Let it distract you as much as it wants to spend its ire.

I never gave up on my bachelor's degree,
I even went on to get my postgraduate degree,
I could've even achieved a PhD title,
But the COVID19 pandemic made me change my plans.

But bro, why did you forget the lesson so soon?

Anyway, let bygones be bygones.

Now if someone comments that you couldn't complete the graduation you started at a top University,
I tell them that you're happy doing something that pays you well,
You have completed a B.Sc in Math, and an M.Sc too,
Now you are doing your B.Ed,
And you're happily married to a charming woman.
My HP Poem #1959
©Atul Kaushal
David Cunha Jan 13
Six string buzz galore
Stars align in solemn swear
The soul oozes out
- David Cunha
january 13, 2024
5:30 a.m.
The words, they tell the story
But the music makes the song
The story disappears
When the volume is all wrong


If you want folks dancing
Sing it nice and loud
Take the hint and listen
Sing it for the crowd

But, if you want to tell...a story
That's when you make a choice
To turn the volume down a bit
Let the people hear your voice

The volume kills the story
But it also sells the song
You'll never have a hit my friend
If you get the mix all wrong

Anthems, scream them loudly
Make the walls fall to the ground
Make it like an earthquake
Just do it with some sound

Get the heartbeats racing
Get the people on the floor
You just won't have it happen
If the volume is at 4

If you want to say I love you
And make folks feel it in their heart
Remember words will express feeling
And lower volume plays a part

So, when you play your music
May you play it loud and strong
Remember turn it down sometimes
Because, the volume sells the song
John Bartholomew Oct 2023
Sat idle in my stand,
watching,
waiting,
on the rest of the band
A quiet wooden box of strings
Humble and shining, just ready to do my thing
They plod through the acoustics, oh such a bore
It's time to let rip baby, gimme some power chords!
As the hits keep coming, soon to take my bow
Let's deafen these crazed punters, let me start this row
As you thought that noise was Mr Marshall all at the wrong settings
Uh-uh dear listeners, it's my veins just over jetting
Pick me up you freak, finger me into some heavenly patterns
So let's rock,
let's roll,
and let this frustrated cut out do its feedback chatting

🤟🏼

JJB
#thatsrocknroll #feedback #turnitup
Elaenor Aisling Aug 2022
Here, I do not need to coax the sound—
No more tremulous plucks, bated breath,
Muting my voice as it slips from my throat
Here,
It falls as a gift, freely given
Resonant as thunder in the mountains
Bold and beautiful.
How brightly I burn
When I do not have to ask
To be heard.
‘A festive song for thy ears’,
Sang the jovial busker;
Brimming with gratitude,
With pennies of silver
Or the coppers from well-worked hands,
The heavy gold of the rich;
Once weighed down pockets
Generously giving.
‘A festive song for thy hearts’,
Sang the jovial busker;
Playing with precision,
With clarity and care
Or the subtlety of pristine art,
The blending sound of the voice
Soothingly warming.
Published in ALFaaz E-Magazine Vol.2 December 2021 edition. Punjab, Pakistan.
©️ Joshua Reece Wylie 2021.
Abish Feb 2022
A charming young man on a boring old day
Sat with his guitar, and began to play.

His angelic wings cushioned his back.
So soft and pure, in color, they did not lack.

His calloused hands plucked at the strings.
The notes that he played were such beautiful things.

The notes and the scales would soon evolve into a song.
written on the air... It would not last long.

A song that would never be matched again.
Each day, his songs were different but the same

Each song held a purpose, whatever it was.
It was up to the listener to interpret its cause.
This is about PhilzaMinecraft (a minecraft youtuber) playing the Guitar
Strying Jan 2022
like my guitar
and your eyes
and the way you looked that night
and the stars in June
in the big Vermont sky
and the way my heart
always shined around yours.
~
Next page