In the dark a crowd had gathered
And all the stars were there
The hacks were writing history
The girls just stood and stared
A trio of shadows arose
But my eyes could not gauge
Till a six string crucifix
Was rising from the stage
Then the air was cut with music
Rhythmic demons from his gaze
Voltage dreams and electric themes
It was Hendrix purple haze

He took the fret board higher
And made the distortion sing
Fingers moved like lightening
Picking across the strings
We thought he was a vision
A remnant of the past
A journey back from voodoo
Enlightenment that couldn't last
His face was lit with colors
And songs a cryptic maze
He gave us soul and made us whole
It was Hendrix purple haze

The night went on for ever
Burning the scratch plate
If I don't see you in this world
In the next don't be late
Is this the electric lady land
Slight return of voodoo chile
Meeting of a vibrant soul
The resurrection of his smile
The show eventually comes to an end
The stars turn into rays
Forgotten tear, he was never here
It was Hendrix purple haze
kk 8m
Cello cords snap, slice, fresh
Wounds bloom next to old scabs
Rosy slits puncture through cotton gloves
With thread and time, they say
We’ll mend.
Intertwining blows face a silent war
Unwinded by a cannon salute.
Across the battlefield
Conductors pick up their batons
Holding ready
Waiting
For you to throw
The opening note
Waiting
For me to throw
The first Molotov
Shatters.
The trumpet hook screeches
A familiar overture blares
Confetti glass garnishes our drinks
Gasoline reek, whiskey aftertaste
A night of dancing dares.
We fall back
Into a bed of thorns
Composed by sleepless fights
We have not learned to knit or sew
Our petals dangle from the receptacle
Swaying to the chorus.
It's only a matter of time...
sara 9h
From down the hallway
I hear an old pianist play
a slow and tentative tune,
fitting for a grey day in late June.

The top half, just like chimes in the wind;
the bottom chords ask that rain will fall again;
the birds, in chorus, twittering:
all out of love for rain in the spring.
I really like grey days
Aa Harvey 19h
Visiting the palace


In palace corridors the music glides throughout minds
And finds itself welcomed and ignored at the same time.
It drifts in and out like the smiles on the faces,
Which say they are happy, but there are also traces,
Of nervousness; some emotionless.
The never ending search for acceptance.


Wishing to fit in, but never able to attain a place,
For you are born below and below you will always remain;
But still you try to become more,
As you walk the beautiful palace corridors.


Never fitting in, trying to not stand out,
When all you are made to do is stand around.
Never making your way into,
So always ending up without.


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Aa Harvey 19h
Maybe, baby, boy, man.


Darkness falling, images fading;
No more warnings, broken pieces still remain.
Fix the future; in the past I was a weekend warrior.
Music is my influence;
Stay young and invincible and discover your own way.


Music helps us to find the truth.
Electronic movements; under your world we are unique.
Keep on trying, see a way through;
Push the buttons and find the right key.


We are in boxes, going in rewind;
Memories remind us that today is our time.
Words find their own meaning when we have a dictionary mind.
Thoughts become numbers we see on a coded matrix line.


Another number who hopes to shine;
I’m a lucky man, who has found his place.
Different voices that are new to our eyes,
Show us how to become the person we are,
Before we reach our grave.


Timeless entity, we wish we were.
Hopes and dreams change as we evolve.
Imagination brings love to her,
But she cannot see me waving my soul.


Paint by letters with alphabet spaghetti words;
Send me a signal using neon lights.
Show me how to become seen when all I can be is a blur;
A maybe, baby, boy, man who is still out of her sights.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Aa Harvey 19h
Question.


Do we like rock music because we are depressed?
Or are we depressed because we listen to rock?

Do we smoke weed because we are depressed?
Or are we depressed because we smoke weed?

Do we smoke weed to feed our need
Or do we simply have a need to smoke weed?

Do we shoot guns, because we like to destroy?
Or do we destroy, because guns are easy to shoot?

Are we bullied, because we are weak?
Or are we weak, because we allow ourselves to be bullied?


(C)2011 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Aa Harvey 19h
You make me happy


You make me smile when I am alone;
You make me feel happy when we are together in our home.
You make me happy inside when everything else is wrong.
You are love, you are loved
And in my heart,
The musicians play our song.


You make me happy and you make me sad;
With you I am happy, but without you I am sad.
I will be there for you because you are there for me too.
You make me happy,
So I will do whatever it takes to prove my love to you.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Aa Harvey 19h
Still trying


Waking up alone again, but the sun is shining;
Life is tough, but it is good enough to make me smile.
If I said I was doing ok, I would probably be lying,
But I can rise out of bed and face the world and maybe in a while,
Things will get better; I could find a rainbow in my tears.
I could find the love I have been searching for, for all these years.


The songs raise my soul to another level;
I become more than I have ever been able to be.
The clouds outside drift apart and with them go my troubles;
A new lyric can make such a difference to me.


Radio Gaga has become a lady in my mind;
If I could just impress, then I could have all I wish for
And maybe I could do what I can do on stage.
If things do work out for me, I will work hard and try,
Because I love what I do, I love speaking to you;
You give me the strength to smash out of my cage.


Breaking out through the fire exit;
Running into another day ready to face it.
The adrenaline flows as I produce all I can;
The pen and pad is my paintbrush and I am what I am.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
_

memphis red
no longer is

gray now shines
from a balding head
filled with scarlet embers

memories still burn

a fired spirit
too deep
for coddled mortals
to fully fathom

red is real

red is legend

his tales of pain
of injustice
the lore of the big muddy

his eyes
earthy brown
turbulent as that river

his stare
a deep current
impossible to escape

swept away

his voice
a tempered edge
honed by blues

broadleaf husky
thick as sorghum
smooth
as beale street bourbon

the cf martin
swings from a leathered neck

on a tattered strap
stretched and shaped
by the heft of sorrow
poured into the soundhole

marked and scarred
by years of burden
of witness

its character and patina
bear testament
to a genuine soul

cracked and seasoned hands
reach with suffered care
to wrap the fingerboard
in love

callused digits
yellowed by habit
depress taut strands
no longer catgut

sculpting emotions

blood and bone
grip
connect

true life
ensnared in sitka spruce
and spiraled steel

knowing strains rise

chords of loss
rhythmic stomp
stinging verse
tinged in triumph

of broken promise
failed love

of dirt field
cruel street
back alley

of harsh wisdom
enduring hope

resonate
to fill this space

to break my heart
to steal my soul

swept away

_


rob kistner © 2007
This is a tribute to celebrate every genuine bluesman, whose life of hardship, spirit, suffering, joy, and sorrow, were honed and carved into their soul,
to craft masterworks of musical storytelling that will forever capture
a people, a time, and a way of life that are deep roots of America.
Logan D 1d
Don't got much in life
But I got 6 strings
What better way to deal with strife?
Playing my 6 strings

Don't got much to say
They can talk all day
So I'll let 6 strings talk
They talk so good they might as well walk

Pure words vibrating off their wood
Very loud, more than I ever could
Sometimes they sound sad
They even talk about your dad

Bronze skin but sounds like gold
Never gets old
A constant companion
As strong as a champion

Strummin' like a G...
Chord!
Play em' till I bleed
They're a different kind of breed

So whenever you here a crazy sound
A lovely sound
Harsh sound
Just know it isn't from me
Its from my 6 strings
Heh, I thought this one was pretty good. I love guitar so, enjoy.
Any music fans out there?
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