(The guitarist doesn't ALWAYS get the girl!)


Egomaniac!


He stood on the stage shining
Guitar hung round his neck
Golden halo above his curly locks
Pulling off riffs like plucking feathers from the air
Playing tunes with the hair on the nape of my neck
Rising a glow from deep down in my belly,
Maybe even lower, the strings sing me into ecstasy
The drummer behind his shape accents two beats
Signalling, this crazy dance must end you solo hog!
But he sees my eyes and steals another eight bars
Skillfully tuning into my mind with whale song notes
The drummer rolls his sticks, and his eyes
The guitarist smug, gives a shrug and ends
On a screaming whammy barred power chord
Examining his inflated ego, I wonder cheekily,
If something else has the size to match......
I watch him cockily wink at three giggly girls, then me,
So I go to the bar, and buy the drummer a beer.




Poetry by Purple Phoenix
Read 659 times
Written on 2009-02-21 at 05:19

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Wow! You rock!!!
2009-02-21


Kathy Lockhart
Brilliant! I have no other words worthy of this amazing piece.
bookmarked and fav.
2009-02-21