"presley" poems
The Beatles are legend forever!
The Beatles and Elvis Presley
Pop singers immortal love all!
McCartney, John Lennon and
George Harrison with ****** Starr
Make The Beatles a music group!
Music mesmerised many in 1960s!
The Beatles were welcomed ever
With Red Carpet welcome everywhere!
Love me do and Hard day's night still
Ring in the ears with haunting spell
No one can forget even today, well!
John Lennon or Paul McCartney,
Single or group is The Beatles in one!
Dec 8, 2011
Dec 8, 2011 at 2:09 PM UTC
As the snow flies
on a cold and grey Chicago mornin'
A poor little child is born
In the ghetto
(in the ghetto)
And his mama cries
'cause if there's one thing
that she doesn't need
Is another hungry mouth to feed
In the ghetto
(in the ghetto)
People, don't you understand
the child needs a helping hand?
Or he'll grow up to be an Angry Young Man someday...
Take a look at you and me
are we too blind to see?
Do we simply turn our heads,
and look the other way?
Well, the World Turns
and hungry little boy with a runny nose
Plays in the street as the cold wind blows
In the ghetto
(in the ghetto)
As his hunger Burns
So he starts the roam the streets at night
And he learns how to steal
and he learns how to fight
In the ghetto
Then one night in desperation
A young man breaks away
he buys a gun, steals a car
he tries to run
but he don't get far
And his mama cries
As a crowd gathers 'round
an Angry Young Man
face down in the street
with a gun in his hand
In the ghetto
(in the ghetto)
As her young man dies
On a cold and gray Chicago mornin'
Another little baby child is born
In the ghetto...
( in the ghetto )
His mama cries
in the ghetto
Elvis Presley....was to me a very beautiful poetic sad soul, wanting to shake the world up....gone too soon doing things he did not want too in the end. XO
Cherie Nolan
Jul 17, 2016
Jul 17, 2016 at 7:22 PM UTC
Hare Krishna's
In their Pickups
Depressed Comics
Down on their Luck
Teenage Girls
Screaming Meme's
****** Pinko's*
Leftward Leaning
Vincent Price
Flo and Eddie
Rodger Rabbit
Priscilla Presley
Nuns in Habits
Dwarf's in Ponchos
Deadbeat Dads
Munching Nachos
Right-Wing Nut Jobs
Trading Slogans
A few Hero's
Including Hogan
Are just a few of the sights you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee
Buddhist Monks
With Electric Banjos
Holding Signs Up
Of Marlon Brando
Taxi Cabs
Blaring Show Tunes
Pregnant Women
Down-loading Soon
Derby Jockeys
Flying Monkeys
Kool-Aidholics
Skittle Junkies
Bozo The Clown
Bumper Stickers
Psychedelic
Crazed Toad Lickers
Rhinestone Cowboys
In their Skivvies
Gothic Girls
Heebie Jeebies
Are just a few of the sights you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee
Blue Haired Granny's
In pink Moo Moos
Ballerina's In
Tattered Tutus
Mathematician's
Number Crunchers
Even have Some
Out to Lunchers
Model 50's
*Do *** Daddies*
One More Round Of
Flo and Eddie
People Sneaking
Across the Border
Lonely Fry Cooks
Taking Orders
A Few Wannabes
Not Saying Much
Will The Real Elvis
Please Stand Up
Are just a few of the sights that you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee
Thank you...Thank you very Much
Ladies and Gentlemen
Elvis...Has Left The Building
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 8:59 AM UTC
Abbie hailed a yellow top cabbie
Brenda had a sister in-law named Glenda
Cate ran late on her first date
Delly ate seven bowls of lemon jelly
Edwina drove to the town of Catalina
Fran burnt her finger on the very hot frying pan
Gwen had a strong yen to go and see her aunty Jen
Hope bought her husband a towing rope
Isobel fell under the magician's spell
Joann took her mother on a holiday in a caravan
Kylie went to the dentist with her brother Wylie
Lesley liked listening to Elvis Presley
Marcia enjoyed eating a freshly baked focaccia
Nell saw a turtle coming out of his shell
Olga lived at the top end of the river Volga
Primrose had a Pinocchio nose
Queenie knitted a multicolored beanie
Ruth could never tell the whole truth
Stacey loved playing dress ups with her friend Tracey
Tilly behavior was always rather silly
Una bought a house in the suburb of Yagonna
Verity wanted to be a well known celebrity
Winifred never stopped taking about Alfred
Xena was presented with a court subpoena
Yale told her teacher a tall tale
Zealand ventured out into the bushland
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 8:30 AM UTC
Walking to work, I saw Joan Rivers
Blowing me a kiss today
Through a store window on Indian
With that smirk you can't mistake
I crossed on Tahquitz Canyon drive,
Said "hi" to Lucille Ball,
and passed a smiling Elvis Presley,
rested against the Welwood wall.
This is where the ghosts of Hollywood dwell
Is this a Hollywood Heaven or a Hollywood Hell?
But this is where the ghosts of Hollywood dwell
the Shangri-La where the angels fell...
On a fountain's edge across the street,
Sits a grinning Sonny Bono,
and just north of there you'll find 26 feet
of Marilyn Monroe shadow.
and Frank Sinatra's voice is still heard
Crooning through the air at night,
while here forevermore at the El Mirador,
you'll find the pensive eyes of Albert Einstein.
This is where the ghosts of Hollywood dwell
Is this a Hollywood Heaven or a Hollywood Hell?
But this is where the ghosts of Hollywood dwell
the Shangri-La where the angels fell...
When the stars die,
they might fall from the sky,
but they never truly disappear
cuz you'll always find them here.
This is where the ghosts of Hollywood dwell
Is this a Hollywood Heaven or a Hollywood Hell?
But this is where the ghosts of Hollywood dwell
the Shangri-La where the angels fell...
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 7:15 PM UTC
*"If you wake up this morning believing that saying
a few Latin words over your pancakes will turn them
into the body of Elvis Presley, you have lost your mind."*
He has often asserted that the thing is absurd:
that someone who does not (whether out of hatred, indifference,
lack of conviction, or frankly whatever)
accept traditional dogmas
is still, for some reason, capable of wishing that they could.
I think he is right; I’ve heard a staunch atheist say “If only
I could, but I cannot.” So, this is why he aligns himself
as an anti-theist: he simply
was never properly convinced.
This position seems (at least to me) well-supported,
for anyone can quite readily (and easily)
accept what their father or their clergyman has said
(especially as a child, not knowing any better).
Thus, to be an atheist
one must have first acknowledged supernatural power
and then later, after a bit of thought, dismissed it. In light
of this, I propose a toast to the Real Skeptic,
the one who was never really convinced;
of it. The one who, when celebrating the Eucharist,
wondered why God wanted to be eaten,
who , when receiving Christ,
thought of the extreme certainty by which other faiths'
devotees (Islam, Heaven's Gate,
Mormonism, Bon,
Cargo Cults, Shinto, Falun Gong)
live and preach – some even delighted to die.
Thoughts like these always made me feel uneasy as a child
because how could I hope to keep my little mind
from accidentally discovering fallacy after fallacy? So, here is a toast
to the Unconvinced, who can’t possibly help but not believe.
Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 3:47 PM UTC
You were the Barbie jeep engineer.
You were the 5-card pinochle player.
You were the gripe to do the dishes.
You were the patient mall bench sitter.
You were Elvis Presley records and
paper backed crime novels.
You were my new antivirus software.
You were the chatter in the middle of an
NCIS episode.
You were the "It's okay, sweetie" on the
other end of the phone.
You were the voice of every bathtime storybook.
You were the baking soda on my first wasp sting.
You were the green Ford Escort parked
outside my middle school every afternoon.
You were the loudest clap at my graduation.
You were the sticky caramel corn crumbs in the
living room that held the place together.
You were the laughter
You were the toolkit when my pictures hung crooked.
You were the cornerback baker, the pecan pie maker,
dance recital seat saver and the road trip driver.
You were the puppy-dog pill-giver and the
broken heart mender.
You were the church goer and the goodness seeker.
You were the black-haired teaser and the
very best secret keeper.
You were a prideful wig wearer and
wheelchair rider.
You were a cancer fighter.
You were my first call.
You still are.
Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 4:43 PM UTC
you are beautiful
i have thought this truth before
many times
while watching you stand in the door
my lovely elvis presley in disguise
memphis has put a sparkle in your eyes
let me have no other! so you can feel my love, unweathered,
it would all be much better if you just--forget her,
the only thing that makes miles distance is fear
so do a little something for your soul, and come on over here
i have sung this song before,
hummed the very same tune
to younger ears a couple years ago
look at me: a mockingbird marionette, fumbling
a millennial juliet reincarnate, crumbling
beneath familial fears and plain lack of years
it's not what it seems!
do not drink the poison!
i will see you on the other side!
i mean, it's just a ride, but
my ears have started to ring from
the sound of going mental
the sting of crashed potential
the forget-you-forget-me riptide
i still see your face, i step inside
i must move on and live my life
but how lovely would it be, to be together?
to cross time, and space
for the intergalactic sparkle of your face
for the pure pleasure of watching
each other make each other
happy
we used to write poems for each other
i have pictured myself there
in the pink atmosphere
floating with you, fellow air sign
for quite some time
i have prepared my body and my mind
for the pull of your gravity
washing over me, my skin, my spine
to let you have me
my atoms would surrender
on every eve
but elvis presley was a thief
and tennessee has nothing for me
i now
admit
defeat
this poem:
obsolete
Sep 30, 2016
Sep 30, 2016 at 7:33 PM UTC
Shivering fingers, cradling a cold clay bowl
with dull roses surrounding the rim.
A Klondike bar cut like a grid on a paper towel.
My grandma used to let me eat one in the living room
"careful of the carpet"
on her yellow couches covered with sticky plastic.
She would play the Elvis Presley Christmas album,
To Ginny written in black sharpie on the sleeve
with a Love always, Mom underneath,
over and over again
while she hung bulbs of wood on the bottom branches
so her Welsh Corgi wouldn't break them with his paws.
Slate slabs with handprints
in purple paint every year for the holiday.
She'd set death aside in a coffin ashtray
to kiss my cheek.
Presley played in the background.
She'd rock
on the front porch in white wicker
coughing into the lid of a Pepsi can
until she'd catch me pressing my nose against the door glass,
tell me to turn around and sit on the couch.
It was too cold for me.
She'd only be a minute.
When we played, I'd hide between the two baskets
in the closet that held her hair products.
I could count all the bottles three times each
before she'd say she was too tired,
put on her coat, grab a white box, and hit play.
I always hated that album.
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 5:56 PM UTC
he big concert in the sky forces meteor over USA
HI EVERYONE I AM SAM KINISON
and i sing wild thing, oh yeah dude let’s party
you make my heart sing, who let’s party dude
if you feel cool enough, you will be made to ****** dry
wild thing, as we are flying in the sky, pretty cool, that’s great, ya ****** see
and sam kinison screams real loud, and it makes your heart
crawl right out of your body, and make ya wanna bleed
wild thing, hey wild thing, i think you will move me, who oh oh oh oh
and then came the great elvis presley singing
you are nothing but a hound dog, your farting all time
you are nothing but a hound dog, farting all the time
you will never catch me a rabbit, cause your no mate of mine
you said it was high class, that is just a lie
you said it was high class, well, that is just a lie
and you’ll goodie every day and night and watch this great meteor with us in it really fly
and now here is robert palmer, how can it be permissible
to compromise my principals, that kind of love is missable, she’s anything but typical
it’s a craze, or a cause, it’s a powerful force, there is nothing wrong surrounding because
does our meteor we are sending to the USA look good to you, because we find it, SIMPLY IRRESISTABLE
And john denver, take me home, country roads, to the place, where we belong
west virginia mountain mama, take me home, country road
there is no heaven, can you understand that, we are up here flying over the USA
And we want you to understand this, that we want you to take me home
country road take me home, to the place i belong, we are travelling over your country obama
saying we have been taken home, by country roads
and now, george harrison has a song, i got my mind set on you
i got my set on you, roy orbison sang, ANYTHING YOU WANT YOU GOT IT
anything you need you got it, anything you need you got it, baby
wild thing, oh yeah oh yeah
we are flying in the meteor yeah, who who who who
you make everything so wonderfully groovy
you big despicable wild thing
and this meteor did a mercy dash to bring elvis presley sam kinison robert palmer john denver
george harrison and roy orbison over this nation to explode with total madness, oh yeah, dudes
KABOOM, IS WHAT IT SOUNDED LIKE IN SPACE OVER USA, BUT IT WAS THIS GREAT CONCERT, WAS REALLY GOING ON
TRUST ME, I AM A COSMIC SLEEPER, IT WAS TUESDAY NIGHT, WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON IN CANBERRA, NEARLY POETRY SLAM
I WAS A BIT QUIETER AT THE POETRY SLAM, BUT I SENT MY LITTLE COOL KID THERE, AND SENT MY OLD MAN TO THE POETRY SLAM
I STILL BLEW THE CROWD AWAY WITH MY AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE POEM, I AM COOL, MAN
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 3:21 AM UTC
*We lose so much talent to addiction
Some of you may not care, but I do
This is my tribute to them*
**Alan Wilson
Canned Heat
Jimi Hendrix
The Jimi Hendrix Experience
Janis Joplin
Jim Morrison
The Doors
Brian Cole
The Association
Billy Murcia
New York Dolls
Danny Whitten
Crazy Horse
Gram Parsons
The Stooges
Gary Thain
Uriah Heep
Elvis Presley
Gregory Herbert
Blood, Sweat & Tears
Keith Moon
The Who
Sid Vicious
*** Pistols
Lowell George
Little Feat
Jimmy McCulloch
Wings
John Bonham
Led Zeppelin
Darby Crash
Germs
James Honeyman-Scott
Pretenders
Pete Farndon
Pretenders
Paul Gardiner
Tubeway Army
Gary Holton
Heavy Metal Kids
Phil Lynott
Thin Lizzy
Andrew Wood
Mother Love Bone
Brent Mydland
Grateful Dead
Steve Clark
Def Leppard
Johnny Thunders
New York Dolls
David Ruffin
The Temptations
Kristen Pfaff
Hole
Shannon Hoon
Blind Melon
Bradley Nowell
Sublime
John Kahn
Jerry Garcia Band
Jonathan Melvoin
The Smashing Pumpkins
Billy Mackenzie
Associates
West Arkeen
The Outpatience
Nick Traina
Link 80
John Baker Saunders
Mad Season
Bobby Sheehan
Blues Traveler
Wes Berggren
Tripping Daisy
Allen Woody
The Allman Brothers Band
Carl Crack
Atari Teenage Riot
Layne Staley
Alice in Chains/Mad Seasons
Kurt Cobain
Nirvana
Dee Dee
Ramones
Robbin Crosby
Ratt
John Entwistle
The Who
Howie Epstein
Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers
Jeremy Michael Ward
De Facto
Tim Hemensley
GOD
Dave Schulthise
The Dead Milkmen
Rick James
Kevin DuBrow
Quiet Riot
Ike Turner
Gidget Gein
Marilyn Manson
Jay Bennett
Wilco
Michael Jackson
The Rev
Avenged Sevenfold
Paul Gray
Slipknot
Mike Starr
Alice in Chains
Amy Winehouse**
*We are not bad people, we just have bad ways
Yet, not many understand*
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
be a holiday
ill be a presley
we can dance at the cabaret
waiting for dawn to greet us gently
sway your hips
in motion with mine
we'll tremble and move
all to the time
of the beat of the band
boy, aren't they grand?
let the music die away
let neon, unravel and fray
i'm happy to just shake if you'll stay
just hold my hand
let's run away
Jan 13, 2021
Jan 13, 2021 at 11:44 PM UTC
My world came crashing to a stop
Thirty four years ago....on 8 December
I can tell you all just where I was
And I'm sure that you'll remember
I mourned the loss of a legend
I sat and cried for he who died
And like people the world over
Our emotions could not hide
Three years before, another
Died, but it didn't mean the same
He was found dead in his bathroom
A brand new image for his fame
I mourned the loss of a legend
One who died, but at what cost
He was a victim of his excess
I didn't feel the sense of loss
Two Men of peace in Sixty Eight
I was not yet seven at the time
Assassins changed the world we knew
It changed direction on a dime
The King of Camelot in waiting
His brothers shoes, this man would fill
But, for a bullett in Los Angeles
Would hit their mark and get the ****
The other man was destined
To die, because he had a dream
But he united those who heard him
It was a surreal as it did seem
Five years before in Dallas
A President brought down too soon
Was it a single snipers rifle
Or another on the knoll there in the gloom ?
For each of us, a moment,
When our world did change it's way
When we asked why did this happen ?
There was nothing left to say
Imagine or Remember
We all have that certain date
Be it November, or December
It was not ordained by fate
Lee Harvey Oswald, James Earl Ray
Sirhan Sirhan, Mark David Chapman
Elvis Presley, John F. Kennedy
Martin Luther King Jr, Robert F. Kennedy
John Lennon....ask which ones we should remember.
Jul 24, 2012
Jul 24, 2012 at 8:33 PM UTC
ten minutes.
sitting with presley
contemplating
tearing up
not happy
but not in despair
two cold bodies
giving one another
what they need
one shivering
one perpetually alone
three minutes.
i am far
but on the way
thoughts being guides
two minutes.
time is gone
one minute.
i'm more of an adult
Mar 12, 2022
Mar 12, 2022 at 12:14 AM UTC
A boy he was
Long, long ago
As he glided into the chromed and teal druggist shop
1950s it was
Vintage years
Women in pert dresses
Men in sharp taupe suits
Filled the shop with a smoky manner
On that summer Sunday afternoon
Fan bladed just a-turnin'
Right through time itself
He saw this box before
Jeweled, valuable big music box
Been here not too long
Breathing in a flavored breath
He saw another it
The black round of pure bliss
"Blue Suede Shoes" by Elvis Presley
The white letterin' said
Letter G
Number 4
Hands ***** cold metal from warm pockets
Slipping them into the maiden's shelter
Fingers to buttons,
Arm to record
Music to shop
"Well, it's one for the money,
Two for the show,
Three to get ready,
Now go, cat, go."
Floated in mass commodity
Away the ears and mind blew in the wind
Far from his hometown
Far from his school
And far from everything he already knew...
Daydream ended too soon for his comfort
The boy stared at the flashy box
And spoke a quiet goodbye
Tile guided him out the ringing door
Concrete guided him home
Where now the older him
Lives crooked, but happy
With a dear old woman who loves him more than anything else
And a jukebox
With many records in it
But one is still on top
"Blue Suede Shoes" by Elvis Presley
In chipped, faded lettering
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 10:59 PM UTC
Honk if you’ve seen Jesus
Elvis Presley died for your sins
Doesn’t matter who you worship
The King loves you
Mar 4, 2019
Mar 4, 2019 at 9:14 PM UTC
The graceful flowing of her night gown as she walked slowly throughout the house
Her hair I would play with when I was a young boy
Somehow, she is gone
I was there when she stood up in church praising a god who may or may not exist like a religiously fanatic zealot
But she was not a fanatic
She was full of love and passion
The one woman that got me through my childhood with her kind advice and her wise words
A sage that I seek now in desperate times.
All I can do is wait..and hope to see you again in the beyond
RIP Betty Faye Presley (Nana) 1931-2012
Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 4:56 PM UTC
We all know music started..
Well,
Since the cavemen were banging on raw meat and rocks
dancing to the tune they made,
And must I say,
It was a classic tune.
And classic tunes happen all the time,
Classical music,
Is by far my favorite kind.
Mozart, Chopin, Bach, Beethoven....
I could name more.
Rock and Roll,
Elvis Presley, Jack Brenston and The Delta Cat, Bill Haley, Chuck Berry..
"You ain't nothing but hound dog, cryin' all the time.."
There are different kinds of classical music
Just like Beethoven was deaf,
Elvis, the KING of rock and roll, not creator.
Even cavemen can bang on a drum and make a sound.
Music is made from sounds,
But to deliver it,
That's another piece of sheet music..
Mar 26, 2011
Mar 26, 2011 at 7:24 PM UTC
Interactive poetry: This poem to be read in a stereo-typical Tennessean female drawl
Why Elvis, let me tell you Elvis just loves Cadillac automobiles
And Elvis he is passionate for his sixguns
Why Elvis is simply devoted to his Mama
And don't you know Elvis he idolizes The Colonel
Now Elvis is wild about Harley- Davidson motorcycles
Truth is Elvis worships his fans
Oh Elvis he's quite mad for The Beatles, all four of them!
And naturally Elvis adores animals
I can't begin to tell you how much Elvis dotes over Lisa-Marie
and Elvis just adores animals...Oh heavens to Betsy didn't I just say that already
Oh my oh my Elvis is a peacock for fancy stage wear
Elvis Aaron Presley praises The good Lord Jesus
Oh The President, Elvis truly admires The President
And Elvis reveres The Stars and Stripes
Oh did I mention Elvis is crazy for cheeseburgers
Why Elvis he just loves drugs
Why Elvis just...
Why... Oh Elvis why?
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 8:05 AM UTC
Mysterious , Tennessee nighttime wind , what fables do you bring on a cool Spring eve .. Tales of Mountain 'lore , of whispering rivers and moonlit hollers , black Bear antics and coonskin chapeaux , pristine valleys and hillside shanties , Memphis Riverboats and Elvis Presley .. Cascading brooks , foggy morning dales and Bluegrass pickers , Dulcimers , twisting highways and Nashville Telecasters ..
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 8:52 PM UTC
° Wonderful tonight - Bob Seger
°When the night comes - Dan Auerbach
°Emmylou - First Aid Kit
°You are my sunshine - lots of people
°Can't help falling in love - Elvis Presley
°Fine - Kacey Musgraves
°Home - Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 1:53 AM UTC
The record player sits on my desk
I set the needle on the charcoal vinyl
Elvis Presley- Burning Love
Escapes the speakers
Ready to dance
The static retro crackle
Makes me want to live in the 1950's
Music loops around in my head
Sunshine illuminating onto my floor through the window
I dance as light as the clouds in the pool of sunshine
I smile
Your kisses lift me higher
Like the sweet song of a choir
And you light my morning sky
Burning Love
Spreading my arms out wide
My laugh bursts out of my corrupt lungs
Slipping past my crimson red lips
I breath the music
Notes carrying my body across the floor
Skirt billowing out around me
As I twist my summer hips back and forth
Music is melting into my mind
I spin faster
I am so free
So care free
So nostalgic
Burning Love
Burning Love
Burning Love
Burning Love
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 4:49 AM UTC
"One is at last killed by what one loves violently."
--Guy De Maupassant
During the nights when I cannot seek the sanctity of
sleep,for it does not come over me until the
deadly light of daybreak;
I listen to the still, small voice
calling out from the cracked, crumbling and
falling
plaster firmament hanging over me--
a proverbial coffin-lid
threatening
to close in over me, nailed tightly
shut
with antique copper spikes
to keep
the good dreams
out.
I am so often told in tones
echoing sad and
silent
in the O Holy Night,
to write
the elegy of insanity
creeping
up
from my feet
beneath
these ***** blankets,
seeping,
working its way to my throat
where lies my stifled
cries
that engulf the labored breathing
as my tender, simple
heart
threatens to explode.
Tossing a pillow against the
peeling,
painted wall, I utter
a course ************
to the weathered, unwashed window
by my head
that pounds;
needing the soothing
song-sounds of
whiskey, scotch or
lukewarm beer to revive
my
sinking,
burning soul as
*i lay me down
to die,
i pray to nothing
and embrace the lies*
O, the lies...
I can scarce recall
a time of peace and
bliss,
laying lonely in your arms,
with regret I had to
kiss
your sour lips
perfumed bitter with stale smoke,
***** and other such things like
this...
...this nowhere outside goiing,
going
gone:
The Wheel of Misfortune,
the agony of armies in
retreat,
the ****** of the mind,
the birth
of Jesus, Muhammad, Krishna
and the plastic
Elvis Presley poking up
off your dusty dull-blue dashboard
like the other man's
***** you left
for mine.
Yes,
on these and every sleepless
forever nights
I know,
I show that
O, still, small voice
the things
we refuse to see,
and maybe after it's all over
it
will sing myself to sleep.
Jun 4, 2010
Jun 4, 2010 at 1:59 AM UTC
On the road trying to make a few bucks, it's not like the old days. A lotta' miles and not many big hits since he and Myra parted ways. He's still mean as a snake and smart as a fox. He still plays like his soul's possessed. He's asleep next door, passed out on the floor. It's time to get him sober and dressed.
There'll be another show tonight, a whole lotta' shaken' and maybe a few hillbilly tunes. Whether he knocks 'em dead and leaves them yelling for more depends on pills and liquor consumed. There will be a hole in his heart and the tears will start when the lights go black. The King has gone, he's taken his songs and he's not coming back.
Aw, man, we started the whole ****** thing, didn't we? We made Sun shine bright from that hole in the wall in Memphis, Tennessee.
Now, stop and think and pour him a drink. Sit him up in bed. Give him the word, tell him what we just heard. Tell him Elvis Presley's dead.
Somebody go wake up Jerry Lee Lewis. Get that ********* hillbilly out of the bed. Wait till he looks you straight in the eye and tell the Killer the King is dead.
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 2:51 PM UTC
here we go again
the feeling of not feeling
the music without melody
the poem without metre
it all swims in my head devoid of emotion
these stanzas, those paragraphs, those conversations, that knowledge
they swirl and they shimmer but where has the tone gone
those non-verbal shades just evaporate like water
dickens, tolkien, tolstoy, plath
mozart, sheeran, queen, presley
van gogh, hirst, dalí, ito
nothing but noise when your heart isn't in it
now down some pills
write it down
go to sleep
and repeat this tomorrow.
May 21, 2022
May 21, 2022 at 5:12 PM UTC