being myself the best way I can

Archive for the tag “rhyme”

So Many and So Many Times

Some days I mourn for the might have been

And long for the things that seem lost

The fame, the road, and the roaring of fans

The romance, the lights, and the kisses they’d toss


I wonder if I’d have made a different choice

Would I be who I have become?

And then the keys or guitar or the woman I love

Calm my fears and they welcome me home


Living as me is a puzzle I’ve found

Battered and buffered in the waves of sound

The roaring of wind and sighs of the sea

A shattered canoe but yet again found


I’ve tried and I’ve tried as hard as I know

In a sea the color of rhymes

The storms and calm times they’ve ebbed and they flowed

I’ve failed so many and so many times


Quiet at night I listen to her breathe

And I rest near the touch of her skin

The dreams and nightmares all fade away

As I look toward tomorrow again


If Dr Seuss owned too many guitars…

If I can only play one guitar at a time…

 why do I have more than one – and does it rhyme?

 Sometimes a Strat cluck is the sound that’ll do.

 Sometimes a Taylor or Martin rings true.

 There are seasons when Hamer’s the axe for which I yearn.

 And, sometimes an ol’ Tele is so hot it burns.

 Some days a PRS is the all-round best 6-string.

 On some days a Collings will make my heart sing.

 Perhaps it’s a mando or dulcimer type of day,

 or mayhap a lap-steel or resonator is the best way – to say…

 Playing guitar is a good thing for me –

 And, still I don’t yet own 33…

Paeans to the Blind

Although it’s dark beyond the shoreline
the waves’ voice still does shine
Crashin’ in the fog and rhymin’
Paeans to the blind

Siren song, it’s silky
Mist and salt so fine
Turnin’ from the easy answers
To wrestle me with mine

When’s the farthest distance?
Can I fly that high?
Where’s the how and who will answer?
When I ask of why?

Don’t mean to make it hard for you
But easy can’t be mine
Need to find a way to weave
Sense and the sublime

I get away with fancy words
Or so I have been told
I started talkin’ early
Won’t quit till I’m too old

Babble about trifles
To argue ain’t a crime
But questions don’t get answered
By voices with no mind

So I dream of castles
Where fountains flow with truth
And there the sages gather
At the info booth

Fill their minds with wonders
To ponder ‘til they’re blind
Listen to waves as they sing
Paeans to their kind

written on 3/26/2012

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