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Messenger
The guitar spoke
of love and war, sand and water,
and showed the ships to my wife
in my absence.
Poems on the topic: guitar
Poems on the topic “guitar” on Poets.by.
Without
Because the electric guitar had no hole,
in the middle of a song
the old bluesman lowered his mouth to it
& plucked the strings with his gold-
capped teeth.
Because the sawhorse had no head,
it didn’t know which way to run
when a plank saddled it,
& it let the saw whinny
for both of them.
Because the hermit had no wife,
he bought a clock
with a loud tick
& wound it faithfully once a week
with a little brass key.
Because the trailer had no cellar,
Part of All You Need
& the young couple who moved in, recommended by your friend
Theyre broke, no place to stay, just til he gets a job
because you did have room
Playing his guitar all night, your kid crying awake, his boots
of fashion slipping on the stairs, that one stair, high, he always
stumbls on,
& the evening you found her at your wife's sewing-machine
turning a skirt which she denied
was borrowed unquote from the closet full of clothes belonging to the
previous lodger
who some day soon you hoped
would be back from hospital
the black unabashedness of her denial, the straight stare
Dont ask me to find reasons for my actions
the nonsense they talkt, this at least was softly, sitting up,
La Paloma in London
About Soho we went before the light;
We went, unresting six, craving new fun,
New scenes, new raptures, for the fevered night
Of rollicking laughter, drink and song, was done.
The vault was void, but for the dawn’s great star
That shed upon our path its silver flame,
When La Paloma on a low guitar
Abruptly from a darkened casement came--
Harlem! All else shut out, I saw the hall,
And you in your red shoulder sash come dancing
With Val against me languid by the wall,
Your burning coffee-colored eyes keen glancing
Aslant at mine, proud in your golden glory!
I loved you, Cuban girl, fond sweet Diory.
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