"australian" poems
Heat beats down upon the street
Birds too hot to fly,
Blistered sand you cannot stand
Drenched with sweat am I.
Cows collect in shadow deep
Panting sheep hang head,
Goshawk flies in cobalt skies
Hills of grass stand dead.
Whisp of smoke, a puff of breeze
Sirens scream in air,
Running men in squads of ten
Emerge from everywhere.
Now the rising wind takes charge
Runs with leaping flame
Into crown of eucalypts
To rage across the plain.
Too late the tenders hoses pour,
Too late the fireman’s shout
Inferno hot has run amok
And all control a rout.
Generating mighty winds
The fire charges forth
Spiralling in furnace air
To incinerate for sport.
Vanquished men exhausted stand
Watch with useless eyes,
As raging flames consume their truck,
Inside a good mate dies.
A live thing in the burnished night
It writhes and spirals high
Across the flaring treetops
Hot, red smoke fills the sky.
As sudden as it starts, it stops
A wind change in the air.
Ravaged forest stark and black
Hot ashes everywhere.
Hills of cinders smoking now
Stock in death’s repair,
Homesteads rendered charcoal like
Farmers in despair.
A silence in the ravaged hills
Birdless in the sky,
Bushfire horror, death and smoke
Enough to make you cry.
Marshalg
In support of my Australian brethren and their torched nation.
30 January 2013
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 8:16 PM UTC
I pray thee sun thou should set,
or take thy leave better yet,
wouldst at last my thirst be gone,
But alas thee linger, and linger on.
There be no flower not yet dead,
no water flows in yonder river bed.
'Tis a heat where nought doth grow,
nor doth thee ever mercy show.
Dry of skin and parch of throat,
a man doth need no overcoat.
Thy rays doth burn mine eyes,
they do not hear mine mercy cries.
If there be a place where chill be found,
'Tis there it be that I be bound,
A place where there be no burning sun,
show it to me, so to it I shall run.
(c) 26th January 2010
with apoligies to all you Shakespeare freaks
Jan 26, 2011
Jan 26, 2011 at 1:48 PM UTC
Faking Bad
In anticipation of my
Evaluation to be declared
Non Compos Mentos
I slept under a bridge
For three days
"Getting into character,"
But on the morning of
My intake interview
My hair fell perfectly,
I mean I looked like
A ******* rock star.
College girls on the bus
Were giving me their
Numbers and my skin,
Which I'd purposely sunburnt
And caked in the finest filth,
Glowed like an Australian
Chippendale dancer named Weegie
And even the female Assisstant D.A.
Who had busted me for vagrancy
Waved her ******* from
The third story building
Of the Courthouse.
No matter how much I
Tried to speak gibberish
Poetry and philosophical
Tracts spewed from my mouth.
Shuffling past the park
I beat eight
Grand Masters
At chess on move 1
Inadvertently I solved
The Phi Epsilom Theorem
By kicking stones
Into an algorythym.
When I arrived they didn't
Make me wait at all.
My caseworker giggled like
A schoolgirl while I told her
Each day was like an endless shift
In a Chinese fish- gutting
Sweatshop and every one of my fellow
Employees was motivationalist
Richard Simmons.
She ungirdled her enormous
**** and as they spilled
Like fishguts onto the desk
She began to howl
**** me, **** me, oh ****
Me right here in
Front of the open window
On State Street as everyone
Watches me ******* the strongest,
Healthiest, smartest, most popular,
Well-adjusted man in the world.
The rest of the examination was
Also a success.
But as I left the Mental HealthCenter
feeling marvelous
I accidentally bumped
An old woman with the door:
"Watch out you manic-depressive
Schizoid with Socially Avoidant
Features klutz."
-Thomas L. Vaultonburg
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 5:05 PM UTC
A drop of Aussie poetry (guess from where):
The liquid amber is a nice drop.
I especially like the sherbert on top.
It caresses my taste buds with flavour
And I enjoy its savour.
An Australian man’s home is his Castlemaine XXXX
Full of Foster Children
Drinking nectar.
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 5:24 PM UTC
There's just no escaping you.
You're wrapped in all my thoughts.
Your face in every crowd.
My heart is cluttered with feelings of you.
Adelaide road.
A street in Dublin.
But also your Australian hometown.
Crazy.
And now every day I pass there..
Your face will swim in my heart and my mind.
I bet even if I wanted to escape.
Even if I tried my hardest.
I just couldn't.
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 4:00 AM UTC
fat kid, oh fat jkid, oh where are you fat kid
i am really fat kid, full of muscles ya see
i love cream buns, ****** oath i am a big big big big man
what do ya think about that, puny little cool kid
i love my beautiful spring rolls as well as a coca cola to wash it down with
that is mighty fine, oh yeah
and the kids went up to me, and said fat kid fat kid fat kid, you are a fat kid
i said, i am not a kid, for i am an adult, who lives life like it’s one big adventure after the next
as i said, i am known as the fat kid, the really big fat kid
i love spring rolls, cream buns, and a coca cola
and i love lamingtons, as well, and i love meat pies and sausage rolls
which makes me a real australian ***** ****
and a custard **** i can lick the fat right off that
and the voice came from out of the blue
fat kid fat kid, you are a fat kid, and another voice says
your not an adult, adults are cool, and i said, i am cool on the computer, ****
and then i said, i am so an adult, a creative adult, a good fooler\
i try to be a cool kid, to gain protection, but reality i am a cool adult
and i don’t appreciate being treated like a fat kid
i am a cool adult who loves to PARTY
an adult PARTY dude so to speak
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 10:06 PM UTC
wanna beer wanna beer wanna beer
the aussie thing to do
then they go off to the pub and say wanna beer to you
i didn’t know what to say at first
these people do like me, yeah
they think i am cool very very cool
yeah they enjoy my company a lot
wanna beer wanna beer wanna beer
ya see the aussie thing
wanna beer wanna beer wanna beer
and a hamburger with the lot
ya see ya go to the footy and the first thing you hear is
wanna beer wanna beer wanna beer
the aussie thing to do
then you go off to the city
to a nightclub, a man blows his cigarette smoke right in your face
you say what, are you doing, then
you say
wanna beer wanna beer wanna beer
the aussie thing to do
you see you think your a man but you look like a hooligan
yeah, your aussie mate true blue
you look rough and ready to punch the guy next to you
and then you say
wanna beer wanna beer wanna beer
the aussie thing to do
wanna beer wanna beer wanna beer
better being a true blue
you see they look ***** and very very rude
as they say
wanna beer wanna beer wanna beer
the aussie thing to do
you go to the footy and then the cricket
and then off to the pub and park illegally and you get yourself a ticket
the police have arrested you, then they let you go
and the first thing you say is
wanna beer wanna beer wanna beer
the aussie thing to do
you see there is nothing wrong with the australian way of life
as long as they just leave me to do my own thing
i would love to have a packet of crisps
but i hear this
wanna beer wanna beer wanna beer
the aussie the aussie the aussie thing to do, MATE
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 12:10 AM UTC
Here I have a chocolate meditation,
Writing an ode for edification,
What is a chocolate meditation?
It is a packet of Tim Tams, in Oz nation,
Let's hear it for Oz Tim Tams,
From an Australian native chocolate plant,
Thence to an endless dish,
Of chocolate biscuits, utter bliss,
No afternoon tea is complete,
For the last Tim Tam we do compete,
Giggling gerties, one and all,
Chicks can hide them in their holdalls,
Without Tim Tams, housework is incomplete,
Must keep our ample figures neat!
I've heard they're unique to Oz nation,
Tim Tams, total chocolate meditation!
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 3:50 PM UTC
You will read this poem aloud in your head
You'll read this line in an Australian accent
You will read this line in a British accent
This line here, you'll read in a cockney accent
In Russian accent, you will read this line...with *****
This line will be read in your best friend's voice
You will read this line in your mother's voice
You will read this line in your father's voice
Or maybe you won't. I'm not a f***ing magician.
Geez..
Jan 22, 2012
Jan 22, 2012 at 2:25 AM UTC
The beach should be so special,
I want to go to a beach with you.
I want us to go to a private beach,
And give you an Australian greeting.
My missile will touch your bombs,
And then make way to your silo,
The Australian greeting is ****
Dec 1, 2016
Dec 1, 2016 at 2:06 AM UTC
Australia takes her pen in hand
To write a line to you,
To let you fellows understand
How proud we are of you.
From shearing shed and cattle run,
From Broome to Hobson's Bay,
Each native-born Australian son
Stands straighter up today.
The man who used to **** his drum",
On far-out Queensland runs
Is fighting side by side with some
Tasmanian farmer's sons.
The fisher-boys dropped sail and oar
To grimly stand the test,
Along that storm-swept Turkish shore,
With miners from the west.
The old state jealousies of yore
Are dead as Pharaoh's sow,
We're not State children any more —
We're all Australians now!
Our six-starred flag that used to fly
Half-shyly to the breeze,
Unknown where older nations ply
Their trade on foreign seas,
Flies out to meet the morning blue
With Vict'ry at the prow;
For that's the flag the Sydney flew,
The wide seas know it now!
The mettle that a race can show
Is proved with shot and steel,
And now we know what nations know
And feel what nations feel.
The honoured graves beneath the crest
Of Gaba Tepe hill
May hold our bravest and our best,
But we have brave men still.
With all our petty quarrels done,
Dissensions overthrown,
We have, through what you boys have done,
A history of our own.
Our old world diff'rences are dead,
Like weeds beneath the plough,
For English, Scotch, and Irish-bred,
They're all Australians now!
So now we'll toast the Third Brigade
That led Australia's van,
For never shall their glory fade
In minds Australian.
Fight on, fight on, unflinchingly,
Till right and justice reign.
Fight on, fight on, till Victory
Shall send you home again.
And with Australia's flag shall fly
A spray of wattle-bough
To symbolise our unity —
We're all Australians now.
3.5k
the girlie man of Australian politics
had the term coined just for him
the tough man Arnie Schwarzenegger
from California was thinking of him
Bill Shorten is a *****
when it comes to fiscal matters
that's why his statements
on the budget are all in tatters
soft approaches toward
spending will never do
the nation's finances are in need
of a tightening *****
the treasury office stats
don't mislead of go awry
a salient tale they tell
about a well running dry
there are no Jesus Christ figures
in Canberra to divide the loaves and fishes
a certain amount is in the nation's war chest
which must fulfill the people's many wishes
the Shorten alternative economic policy
has great sieve holes in it
the nation's well being under it
would be rendered unfit
at the end of the day
the taxpayer always pays
so the ledger should be in balance
without any stalling delays
fiscal responsibility
is good for a nation's health
marshmallow centered Shorten
has no interest in stock piling our wealth
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 10:20 PM UTC
http://hellopoetry.com/search/poems/?q=Betterdays
**as is my wanton wont,
when stumbling
upon a new voice,
the passed baton
is herein handed off**
am old man.
my poetic voice is just
memories that are
repetitive lies and lines.
speak in simple sentences declarative.
this is nature's way.
darkness approaching is indeed my
au courant poem, mon actuellement.
I have seen better days.
I have read betterdays.
now I am upset, distraught.
here come another young
hot bright votive voice,
and I am being asked to believe that there are
still words that raise hopes of
betterdays.
her bed chip crumbs, delighting,
leave crumbs of pleasure in my soul.
l like her big word poems,
that leave me, fill me by:
*siphoning all in a parched gluttony
leaving behind a viscous residue
and few glassine portals
into a reflective world*
better yet I love her
mothering little god poems,
letting me remember little boys
who once loved a father
*little god love
radiant is thy smile,
smallboy love, exudes from you,
like a flower god's nectar,
bestowed, with negligent love,
upon a mother's world.
i will drink my fill,
everyday, whilst i can,
for far to soon will you
grow up.*
don't speak eastern Australian,
tackers and doona's, no clue,
blue cats are a foreign breed,
but the cat of this starfish mother,
shares my literary tastes:
*him, nestled,
on the second, to
uppermost stay,
of the third
bookshelf,
in the study.
he has filed
himself,
between,
ogden nash
and proust
and it is there,
he plans to stay.*
let me not go on and in deeper, lest
I delay you from her pleasuring
thy tasted untested senses.
so here I am all grumpified
(at my age, you can make up your own words)
unsure if un or satisfied,
knowing that a woman,
word whips me into a
soothing frenzy of creamy
morning coffee verbosity,
a captive taker of life's
ungrandest moments,
poems of them,
make to glory come.
somewhere in the world,
a woman writes of plain goodness
of simple strife and simple lives,
makes methinks that there could be
betterdays still ahead,
better poets surely, than me,
and the day starts well
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 8:50 AM UTC
I love Australia it looks fine to me mate
You see Australia is very cool
There are a lot of fun things to do here
You can go down to Sydney"s beaches
Like Bondi, Manly or even Coogee
You can see if you can run faster
Than the best at city 2 surf
It puts Sydney on the Australian map
And we also have our great sporting games
Like cricket, tennis, AFL and the two rugby codes
If you go to the USA, you'll see so many parades
They have for christmas
While we just have one main parade
Which is from Adelaide, and that is really good
You get at glimpse of the past with come on Aussie come on
Sydney started a great Santa race, where you run
A marathon dressed in a Santa suit
And it was brought to Canberra
And it was very successful too
There are two televised Christmas carols
From Sydney's domain and Melbourne's Meyer music bowl
Yes, if you see the great ocean road and then have a look
At the grampians, you will have a great time
And there are some great surf carnivals on various beaches here
Showing that footy and cricket, is not all we have
We love to drink, sometimes too much
But we are out to have a good time
A ball, we are ready to party this Australia day
Australian sons, oh let us rejoice
But we need to include women too
Australians all let us rejoice
With Tony Abbott wanting to destroy us
AS OUR BELOVED PRIME MINISTER OH YEAH A HEAP
We are aussie through and through
So when we go our on Australa day
We watch the fireworks, yes we are having a big ball of fun
In the country of Australia
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 5:55 PM UTC
Who controls our banking?
Ruinous fees for money lending.
Who questions their investing?
Why so dear for money dealing?
Who does profit from accounting?
Our finances they're controlling,
While our economy they're ruining,
They're amassing fortunes pecuniary,
Big business for them, commercially.
Let's question their accountability
For our faceless Australian economy,
Profits overseas they're sending---
So much for Australian banking!!!
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 1:12 PM UTC
[Fanfare, obviously]
This poem should begin with the call of a bugle,
as is fitting for an ode of Braveheart Macdougal.
Children of Parklands, take heed and be wary,
as I relate now, in verse, a tale cautionary.
Benigna Murdie was a most virtuous lass,
blesséd with promise and a penchant for sass.
To peer pressure she was admirably immune,
and ne'er did she bow to the temptation of goon.
Nary a drop of ***** has e'er passed her lips,
save for politeness and church-mandated sips.
Yet even the mightiest fall-- what a pity!
(harder than I did that night in the city).
So I hope you all glean a moral from this,
and your interpretation does not go too amiss.
But all is self-evident, to quote Descartes,
so allow me to recount this tale from the start.
She hails from a country renown for their piety,
for their pacifist ways and universal sobriety.
The Scottish are known throughout the land
for their temperance of character and lightness of hand.
And our poor Bennigles was no rule-exception,
she subscribed quite wholly to this perception.
A more reserved and reclusive girl you've not seen,
virtually a saint at only nineteen.
Passed out on the couch, liquor was never the root,
only strain from the studying and academic pursuit.
A paradigm of virtue, a pillar of purity,
no “that's-what-she-said's” to compromise maturity.
But that all changed one day touched by fate,
when Rachel realized that hedonism's great.
She took to the streets to revel in her glee,
and legit nothing bad happened cause this isn't tv.
Alas, now I'm drunk and the screen is a-shaking,
perhaps of wine I should halt my partaking.
I cannot continue with this facetious ode,
as we all well know that this is a total load.
But I'll miss you, my Brit, and our shitshow nights,
our Australian exploits and your culinary delights.
Sorry I couldn't finish to detail your demise,
but perhaps I'll conclude after an Australia-reprise.
Feb 13, 2013
Feb 13, 2013 at 6:20 AM UTC
Australian accent;
professional boxer. Spoke
well between my legs.
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 6:10 AM UTC
I wish I was there with you,
Watching the ocean break its green
On white Australian rock.
I wish I was there with you,
Seeing a thunder storm form,
Knowing the only shelter we had
Was our rental car parked
On an Arizonan desert roadside,
As we opened our bottles and prepared
For the night.
I wish that was your hand in mine,
As we counted crows landing on
Stonehenge. That that was you
I shared a snow cave with
In the deadly sub-zeros of the Finnmark
Plains. I wish that was you with me.
Even going for walks here, under the
Northern Lights on a January night,
Both dimmed with dad's home brew and
What not, content with the fact
That we'd wish
We were there with
Each other, if with
Anyone else.
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 2:48 PM UTC
I think kisses, should be given like gifts.
Like; I like what you’ve done smooch here have this
A kiss is like a bow on a present, it may be small, but it makes it all that much more pleasant.
Whether its a peck, French or Australian, a kiss is delightful, something uniquely **** Saipan
Lips pressed against skin send chills down spines and smiles on faces, lips pressed to lips send blood running through veins and a heart throb that chases.
The next time you pick flower petals one after another, thinking do they love me, love me not. Think about how splendid it'd be to have a new lover, to kiss you, and be kissed a lot.
I hope this inspires you to taste new tongues, to swap some spit and to have some fun, because at the end of the day and the best thing in the morning, is a wonderful kiss, to follow your yawning.
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 12:39 PM UTC
**The Australian Thirteens
(Black)**
Your mummy took a beating
Your daddy's drinking beer
Your brother's lost his eyesight
Your sister's disappeared
The thirteens. Right on
Your cousin’s sniffing petrol
Your Uncle's in the cells
Your buddy's begging money
To spend in the hotel
The thirteens. Right on
And you, you make me shameful
To see the state you're in
I tell you live like we do
But all you do is grin
at
The thirteens. Right on.
**The Australian Thirteens
(White)**
Your mother’s hooked on botox
Your daddy’s with the guys
Your sister's anorexic
She fades before your eyes
The Thirteens. Right on
Your daughter is a ******
Your son beats queers for fun
Your priests ****** your children
And you just move them on
The Thirteens. Right on.
You living in that city
And buying all that stuff
And still you look unhappy
Cos you'll never have enough
No
The thirteens. Right on.
Nov 23, 2011
Nov 23, 2011 at 5:02 AM UTC
To my dear son, Boaz in distant Idaho,
Saturday nite, the whole of New Zealand waited in apprehension for the All Blacks rugy team to play the resurgent Wallabys @ Fortress Eden Park.
The previous week at Suncorp Stadium in Sydney, in driving rain, the All Blacks muddled through a painfull draw with the Wallabys, 12 points each with no tries.
The Wallabys had fancied their chances and had wanted an emphatic win on home soil.
Both teams took that score as a loss and the gauntlet was thrown for the second match…..
A brilliant evening, clear and fine , 50,000 people crushed in to Eden Park and you could feel the apprehension, the rest of the country sat in front of their TV willing the team on.
The Haka was given a brutal rendition, you could feel the determination, the passion emanating….the Ozzies glared their defiance back…it was all on!
10 minutes into a titanic struggle with the score three all Captain Ritchie McCaw had a brain fade and was yellow carded off for ten minutes by the French referee.
The crowd roared…then murmured their worry like you’ve never heard before.
The Ozzies mustered a huge scrum which the All Blacks countered with one man down…. The counter ****** pushed the Australian scrum back 15 ft.
Every man in New Zealand was on his feet roaring, you could feel the spirit of nationalism soaring….the moment was a watershed.
The All Blacks counterattacked showing a brilliance in attack and defence we have not seen for years… and from that moment on the game was won.
Final score 51:20 The Bledisloe Cup was ours.
As the match finished the TV camera panned across the solidly black clad crowd…. I have never, ever in my life, seen so many, simultaneous, sets of white teeth grinning!
The trip home to Australia would have been… a very subdued affair.
Thought I should share this marvellous moment with you Boaz.
Luv Dad.
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 4:28 PM UTC
I love Australia it looks fine to me mate
You see Australia is very cool
There are a lot of fun things to do here
You can go down to Sydney"s beaches
Like Bondi, Manly or even Coogee
You can see if you can run faster
Than the best at city 2 surf
It puts Sydney on the Australian map
And we also have our great sporting games
Like cricket, tennis, AFL and the two rugby codes
If you go to the USA, you'll see so many parades
They have for christmas
While we just have one main parade
Which is from Adelaide, and that is really good
You get at glimpse of the past with come on Aussie come on
Sydney started a great Santa race, where you run
A marathon dressed in a Santa suit
And it was brought to Canberra
And it was very successful too
There are two televised Christmas carols
From Sydney's domain and Melbourne's Meyer music bowl
Yes, if you see the great ocean road and then have a look
At the grampians, you will have a great time
And there are some great surf carnivals on various beaches here
Showing that footy and cricket, is not all we have
We love to drink, sometimes too much
But we are out to have a good time
A ball, we are ready to party this Australia day
Australian sons, oh let us rejoice
But we need to include women too
Australians all let us rejoice
With Tony Abbott wanting to destroy us
TOO BAD JULIA AND KEVIN WEREN’T ANY MATCH BUT
We are aussie through and through
So when we go our on Australa day
We watch the fireworks, yes we are having a big ball of fun
In the country of Australia
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 2:45 AM UTC
it's hard enough to shake yer bones awake and get into the game and that name,
Monday,
one day gone day, try and get your mojo on day
Monday plays like an old fashioned song
scratchy on the gramaphone's
trying to make you shake yer bones
I am just a bag of bones ready for the stewing ***
what's Monday got that I can't see
what does Monday do for me
It's full of dinosaurs
and
boring old men
I need the 'magic boomerang'
the one that makes the time stand still
then I'd wind back the clock until
it was Saturday night
The problem is this,
no one remembers
the TV show
on Australian networks
from so long ago
I do though
and
'I don't like Mondays'
Oh
boomtown rats?
Don't remember a bomb that
never had a boom or a rat in a town
that never found room to chew on a Monday
dinosaurs
gave
Monday a bad name.
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 2:31 AM UTC
got so drunk at their little, ahem, initiation ceremony: drank a bottle of whiskey when i heard we were going clubbing wearing lycra shorts... the man with the biggest bulge and the biggest stick... never understood male group psychology... or any group psychology for that matter... it isn't exactly a throng of noblemen following Henry VIII.
i joined the lacrosse university team
for a bit,
left it when the time came to buy the
equipment - i didn't think getting
smacked by the defenders' longer sticks
was worth it, to be a striker with the shortest
stick - too physical - i thought i'd seek
some other physicality,
got stuck-up on rock climbing, and mountaineering
for a while, nothing serious,
a bit of easy bouldering on the edinbrugh crag,
the one lining the skyline at holyrood park,
the salisbury crag, just west of arthur's seat -
i'm not going to lie about clinging off the
matterhorn or something -
but i did an expedition with the mountaineering
club near Ben Nevis once...
Glen Coe / Coire nan Lochan...
and i figured, with all this talk of light pollution,
well, "pollution", to think that a bunch of
street lamps can blind away the stars of what
former poets spoke of: about the illumination
of the heavens for the blind eye to see...
we camped outside one bothy (basic shelter)
set off fireworks, drank whiskey, played music,
burnt a fire in the bothy...
but to be honest... i was not amused by this whole
theory of light pollution...
i looked up at the sky, and the number of stars
was no greater than the number seen in a bright
lit city... i know they say all those telescopes
amplify the chance of peering into the heavens
at night and see more stars...
but why cite light pollution, when, in a remote
highland hideout the number of stars didn't
increase in number... i've heard a girl from
australia cite that, in the outback she said
more stars could be seen... even without a telescope...
so the scottish highlands are unlike the australian
outback? is it just me... or is it simply ********
this whole light pollution argument?
it was dark out there like in an **** after black coffee
and charcoal tablets.
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 6:45 PM UTC
Slashers Defined
In response to my piece, Slashers, it was requested that maybe I could
reveal at least which band or other info these great guitar players performed for to gain their claim to fame. I don't want to spend too much
time on this defintion, but will give what info I think is pertinent. If you do not know some of the names I have presented to you, and you are a blues,
rock, jazz, fusion guitar fan, I suggest you take the time to listen to some of their work. I have included some of my favorite incredible fusion players that do not have a super star following, but are renowned in their group of fans, probably mostly musicians to some degree.
If you are a frustrated guitar player like I am, do not listen to the likes of Holdsworth, Johnson, Gambale, or Morse unless you love being tortured.
Anyway on with the show.
Eric Clapton – Yardbirds, Cream, Blind Faith, Derek and the Dominos.
Jimmy Page – Yardbirds, Led Zeppe, The Honeydrippers, The Firm
Jimi Hendrix – not only what is, but, what could have been
Alan Holdsworth – Solo jazz fusion player – hot
Steve Howe – Yes, Asia - Progressive rock, jazz –
Bill Nelson – BeBop Deluxe, Solo
Terry Kath – Chicago (25 or 6 to 4) – another sad early departure
Ted Nugent – Amboy Dukes, **** Yankees – The madman
Jim Krueger – Dave Mason Band – solo progressive rock
Eddy Van Halen – Van Halen
Ritchie Blackmore – Deep Purple, Rainbow
Jerry Doucette – Doucette (Mama let him play)
Eric Johnson – Solo – New Age, jazz
Frank Gambale – Australian- Jazz, fusion, rock
Goerge Benson – Jazz
Larry Carlton – Jazz, new age rock
Marc Farner - Grand Funk Railroad
Peter Frampton – Humble Pie, solo
Joe Satriani - New age – solo
Johnny A. - jazz, new age – solo
Danny Gatton – jazz, rockabilly – solo
Chet Atkins – jazz, country
John Mayer – Pop, blues – solo
Neal Schon – Journey
Steve Lukather – Toto
Masyoshi Takanaka – New age, jazz – Japanese solo
Lee Ritnour – Jazz, new age – solo
Leslie West - Mountain, West Bruce & Laing
Monty Montgomery – jazz, blues (accoustic you have never heard)
Wes Montgomery – jazz 40's – 50's
Phil Keaggy – New age Christian
Robin Trower – Procul Harem
Brian May – Queen
Rick Derringer – Montrose, Edgar Winter Group, Steely Dan
Robin Ford – John Mayall, Chick Corea, solo jazz, fusion, blues
Carlos Santana – Santana
Ronnie Montrose – Montrose
Steve Morse – Dixie Dregs, Kansas, solo jazz, fusion
Trevor Rabin – Yes, solo new age
Gomer LePoet...
Jun 10, 2010
Jun 10, 2010 at 1:19 PM UTC