• Ernie Ball
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T-bone

Well-known member
Joined
Apr 12, 2005
Messages
1,274
Back atcha Lisa


Who needs 18 volts
Unless you're inadequate
It only takes 9


tbone
 

JohnnyBoy

Well-known member
Joined
Feb 12, 2008
Messages
82
Location
Northampton, Northamptonshire, United Kingdom
Hi,

Babies, well...

This line meant /refers to the scent you get on opening a brand new guitar case, that combo of the fresh wood, paint etc plus the fabric (like new cars always smell that way);

also it takes time for things of quality to arrive - like a Rolls Royce you may have to wait a little while for a musicman guitar. So it's like an expected arrival.

All this may spoil the poem for you - take a little from what you think it exactly means, (your own meaning will differ from mine) but poems are like that - coming from that place the Irish Poet Seamus Heaney refers to as:
'a dream dreamt in the presence of waking'

that place just beyond the literal and everyday, to where the literal sense of words ceases yet strangely the meaning deepens. (I call this the "killer line")

For me beyond any description of features etc; after the waiting to receive the Bongos "Playing is believing" (akin to my visit to Niagara Falls a few years ago - not fully describable but understood by those who also experience)

We may have to ask Big Poppa to spray the inside of cases with a secret scent exclusive to Musicman (aka "Newborn Delight"?)

Ronnie sang "long live Rock n Roll" we say "long live Musicman!"

Cheers

:) Louis
 

TheStiffness

Ernie Ball, Inc.
Joined
Mar 27, 2007
Messages
261
Location
Indio, CA
Hi,

Babies, well...

This line meant /refers to the scent you get on opening a brand new guitar case, that combo of the fresh wood, paint etc plus the fabric (like new cars always smell that way);

also it takes time for things of quality to arrive - like a Rolls Royce you may have to wait a little while for a musicman guitar. So it's like an expected arrival.

All this may spoil the poem for you - take a little from what you think it exactly means, (your own meaning will differ from mine) but poems are like that - coming from that place the Irish Poet Seamus Heaney refers to as:
'a dream dreamt in the presence of waking'

that place just beyond the literal and everyday, to where the literal sense of words ceases yet strangely the meaning deepens. (I call this the "killer line")

For me beyond any description of features etc; after the waiting to receive the Bongos "Playing is believing" (akin to my visit to Niagara Falls a few years ago - not fully describable but understood by those who also experience)

We may have to ask Big Poppa to spray the inside of cases with a secret scent exclusive to Musicman (aka "Newborn Delight"?)

Ronnie sang "long live Rock n Roll" we say "long live Musicman!"

Cheers

:) Louis


:)
Newborn Delight!! Love it!

I read your other poems, that were posted in the Guitar section... pretty darn impressive.

Have you recorded any original songs, by chance?
 

JohnnyBoy

Well-known member
Joined
Feb 12, 2008
Messages
82
Location
Northampton, Northamptonshire, United Kingdom
A Poem for Lovers (for the weekend).

No finished songs with tunes, but I always get a few lyrics to add to every collection. Let me see what I have in my store for you, and I'll post one.

Meanwhile here's one for all you marrieds, partners, lovers out there. Make it a happy weekend, get the wine poured and enjoy together this one...


Do not go.

Do not go when spring is here,
and the greens buds freshening
fields of grass and rye.
The air cool for walks together
in the trees.

Do not go when summer enters
and the crickets chirruping
to the golden corn.
The lake is cool for swimming,
You and I.

Do not go if autumn winds
play catch with leaves,
all gold and fire.
A bench for sharing the fading sunset,
till stars appear.

Do not go as winter covers earth
in snow and ice hangs from the oak.
Remain under the duvet for love,
and Madeleines with tea.


From: ‘September Songs’
Copyright 2007 Louis J. Casson, Purple Squirrel Poems,
an imprint of Cryptic Furnace Press, Northampton.


Email Louis the poet on: [email protected] :)
 
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