I have a neighbor who sometimes sits on his balcony at night playing acoustic guitar. I have been truly moved, laying in bed in the dark as I fall asleep, listening to the soft notes drift across the warm summer air into my window
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Wallace Stevens' "The Man With the Blue Guitar" came to mind. It's by no means short, but maybe a quote from it? It's awesome. And I definitely recommend it regardless :)
and this isn't a poem, but that amazing Picasso painting... I have a postcard of it.
I don't have any poem to contribute but I sit at my window and play my acoustic. Even though i'm no expert i'm hoping if someone listens they appreciate it :D
It's so soothing to play it at night. And sometimes when the dawn is breaking, it's just amazing to play pretty and slow songs :)
sweet. we have a pianist in our complex and usually the notes flowing in the windows is soothing and appreciated. just this morning i enjoyed his "practice" again. :)
a Carpenter's song came to mind as i read your post, but only a portion would be "appropriate". i like the idea of the picasso painting mentioned above-- it's a great work and widely available so a little note on such a "card" would be nice.
the part that played in my mind was "your guitar, it sounds so sweet and clear"-- i didn't remember the rest of it until i looked it up! :)
Superstar Lyrics
Long ago and oh so far away I fell in love with you before the second show Your guitar, it sounds so sweet and clear But you're not really here It's just the radio
[Chorus:] Don't you remember you told me you loved me baby You said you'd be coming back this way again baby Baby, baby, baby, baby, oh, baby, I love you I really do
Loneliness is a such a sad affair And I can hardly wait to be with you again
What to say to make you come again Come back to me again And play your sad guitar
With what attentive courtesy he bent Over his instrument; Not as a lordly conquerer who could Command both wire and wood, But as a man with a loved woman might, Inquiring with delight What slight essential things she had to say Before they started, he and she, to play.
Sorry, that was obnoxious. We-all-have-our-ways-of-doing-things. The poem idea is very pretty. Still, though, a less anonymous appreciation would be a nice way of meeting someone.
LOL, yeah, some of my friends think I better find out if he's cute (they've offered to loan binoculars) before I do anything. I'll keep baked goods on the possibilities list. ;)
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and this isn't a poem, but that amazing Picasso painting... I have a postcard of it.
your post made me happy.
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Love the postcard suggestion too.
And I'm glad this made you happy. Pay it forward. :)
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my english teacher/mentor in high school read us the whole thing one day in class...wow. just wow.
you should check out wallace stevens if you haven't.
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It's so soothing to play it at night. And sometimes when the dawn is breaking, it's just amazing to play pretty and slow songs :)
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a Carpenter's song came to mind as i read your post, but only a portion would be "appropriate". i like the idea of the picasso painting mentioned above-- it's a great work and widely available so a little note on such a "card" would be nice.
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Which Carpenters song?
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Superstar Lyrics
Long ago and oh so far away
I fell in love with you before the second show
Your guitar, it sounds so sweet and clear
But you're not really here
It's just the radio
[Chorus:]
Don't you remember you told me you loved me baby
You said you'd be coming back this way again baby
Baby, baby, baby, baby, oh, baby, I love you I really do
Loneliness is a such a sad affair
And I can hardly wait to be with you again
What to say to make you come again
Come back to me again
And play your sad guitar
[Chorus x2]
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The Guitarist Tunes Up
With what attentive courtesy he bent
Over his instrument;
Not as a lordly conquerer who could
Command both wire and wood,
But as a man with a loved woman might,
Inquiring with delight
What slight essential things she had to say
Before they started, he and she, to play.
-Frances Darwin Cornford
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Sorry, that was obnoxious. We-all-have-our-ways-of-doing-things. The poem idea is very pretty. Still, though, a less anonymous appreciation would be a nice way of meeting someone.
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