Guitarra

I see your brown shy outline

sprawled along the drunk muddy floor 

mocking this composer and hobo of midnight serenities 

strange infinite hour 

you raise my head slightly to the clouds

old wooden friend 

to you I grant this darkness

I welcome you back into my empty hands

wiping your ivory bulleted rings

you are the promising tower carrying me through

your blasphemous screams scaling into mine

brandishing triad after triad 

back to the old whiskey valley 

back to the warm waters of old Monterey

and the southern mountains near Hualahuises, Nuevo Leon

I see your brown shy outline like it was yesterday

where we were lovers from the thunder down to the storm

Author's Note

Hualahuises is pronounced Walla-we-sis

Reviews

[lightsong]

when I first saw this on your page, I said I must read it and here I am now, the relationship between a true musician and his Guitar is very special, so no wonder that I read this soft, intimate and pure tune from You, though I always had musical ears but never learned any instrument, if I had to choose I believe it would be cello, harp and yes the DRUM can You believe it? lol my brother taught himself how to play the Guitar and he was amazing! of course he took his Guitar (forget what he named it) when he traveled. anyway back to the subject, lovely words dear Joe, a love at first sight/voice till the end, here we have a saying that says, "sometimes the ear loves before the eye does" yes this is it :)

[Perdition]

I've had "Black Betty, Taylor, Martha and Bertha" as well as four other guitars that for some reason their names escape me right now..OH.I think one was called Rosalie. ..Another is just named Martin cause it was a Martin..lol. Bill Haley's wife lent me his guitar as well when my grandmother passed I suppose that she could see that I needed it and was a very kind widow and friend of my grandmother. She came to the funeral. Couldn't believe the guitar was not in a case or a museum for that matter and was just lying in the back of her hot trunk. That Gibson belonged in a museum, having belonged to Mr. Haley from "Bill Haley and the Comets"..they were friends of the family way back when and of course we were all sad to hear of his untimely death. The guitar was a 1950 beautiful Gibson I believe? I played that guitar from dusk till dawn. What a beautiful instrument. Elvis Presley would come to play in small arenas around those parts of Texas and the valley as well, back in the early fifties. Well,I have to sort out the work and travels for the day and weekend so thank you for the kind words G. Your brother sounds like a very talented young man. Art must run in your family. Enjoy the weekend and thanks again for the kind words! Take care.

[lightsong]

How lucky that You have a famous Guitar! yes my brother worked hard for himself, he has talent for sure.

Hope You will have a beautiful peaceful Friday and weekend~

[barleygirl]

I love how you describe the guitar as an old friend that's been thru travels & travails. I used to bring my guitar everywhere, even when not playing it, I felt good just having it there in case the urge struck me to play. In a way, your poem is an interesting comparison to the way we can sometimes lug a human friend around even if we don't feel like actually playing with that person as much as we think we might we would. Just that treasured presence making our existence complete, even if it's not fair, the way we treat a friend or a guitar like a piece of luggage! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Perdition]

when you pick up a guitar you pick up a possible friend of war. This instrument was not made so that an uncommitted soul unwilling to pay the diligent price of time and effort can win its favor and make music..just like poetry. Steel strings..frets, distant from the wood that won't make music for just anyone...they come together only after you have earned a trust...a bond...and yes, the callouses of time...just like humans, not luggage. Thanks, Margie, hope you and California are smiling.

[barleygirl]

Last evening I watched a documentary about these six cowboys who adopted wild mustangs, tamed them & got them trail-ready to ride the backcountry from Mexico to Canada. I was noticing how the horses gradually came to be quite loving with these guys as the months went by, kinda like you describe taming the guitar . . .

[Unspoken poet]

This is s a very well written write here, I sing but can't play an instrument. nicely written

[Perdition]

I always find it quite interesting, hard and deeply strange when I write something that I believe is something somewhat worthy yet I watch it flop and struggle like a freshly caught fish struggling for air or death...the strangest part is that if you don't let it loose or go it tends to kill your art. There is nothing attractive about a poet that doesn't believe in what he or she has written...So yes..the best poem EVER!!!..lol. thanks Kay-T. A tribute to my grandmother who came from that part of Mexico thouglh she was Heinz 57..part Italian/Native American/French/Gypsy/Spaniard and all around beautiful woman that taught me so much about listening to nature and what it means to be patient. Quite an incredibibe woman. Still miss her terribly even after 20 years...sniff!!

[Robert Trakofler]

I envy the ability to play the strings my non linear mind never allowed it:/ so I bang stuff and I sing what a gift it is to play and my love of waves from piano keys to the vibrating strings on a guitar to the friction hum of a cello those waves cut me deeply my friend to my very core they resonate so much to these bones as you so plainly painted in these lovely words Mr. Perdition bleed a few fingers for the bunny sometime my friend

[Perdition]

Eight hours a day from the age of fifteen and now at fifty four I sadly have set it to only maybe three at best, but can still get the animals to twirling so would be a pleasure. Have to run the business but will be be back later and thank you. That area of Mexico was the area where my grandmother was raised..BEAUTIFUL COUNTRY..so I'm told!! She was as well as part Spaniard, Mexican and Native American as well as gypsy, and so many other ethnics that I question my great grandmothers morals..hahaha. Strange how no one in my family took to any musical instruments but from the second I saw that guitar I was hooked...Spanish guitar is a favorite but I'll throw you some blues or plane ole rhythm and blues/ rock and roll some time. It is a rare joy to play in the evening hours. So many years and hopefully I'll back to eight hours..Thank you kindly Bunny!!