Robert Lee Brewer’s Poem-a-Day prompt: “It's time for the fourth (but not final) Two-for-Tuesday prompt: 1) Write a tell me poem, and/or . . . 2) Write a don't tell me poem.”
Maureen Thorson’s NaPoWriMo prompt: “write a poem about something you’ve done – whether it’s music lessons, or playing soccer, crocheting, or fishing, or learning how to change a tire – that gave you . . . satisfaction, and perhaps still does.”
Merged all three prompts, as usual.
My Guitar Journey
You can’t tell me there’s anything
that’s done more for me as a lover
of beauty than learn to play guitar
starting at eleven. I took lessons
for maybe a year, from a teacher
who wanted me to learn to read music.
I didn’t want that ’cause I wanted
to learn songs, not plink, plink, buzz.
My best friend Pete and I started
teaching ourselves, and the first song
we learned together started,
“Shady side of sunny mountain,”
in E minor: a folk ballad titled “Julianne”
by The New Christy Minstrels (1963).
From there I moved to the Beatles,
the Animals, the Beach Boys. Then
parsed lead guitar breaks on records
I wore out, like “Louie Louie” by both
the Kingsmen AND Paul Revere
and the Raiders. What an iconic song!
Then Quicksilver, esp. the great
instrumental “Gold and Silver,”
where I learned, note for note,
the lead guitar parts, not knowing
I was emulating two excellent guitarists:
Gary Duncan and the incomparable
John Cipollina. Then Jimi Hendrix (“Fire”),
Carlos Santana (“Evil Ways”), Terry Kath
of Chicago (“25 or 6 to 4”), Eric Clapton
of Cream (“Sunshine of Your Love”).
Even a bit of jazz: Wes Montgomery’s
“Bumpin’ on Sunset,” with those amazing
octave leads, and George Benson’s
“I Want You (She’s So Heavy).”
Twenty years on, I picked up the bass
and now I’m the bassist of the band
Deja Blue. Friends, don’t tell me
it hasn’t been a good life, ‘cause
it’s been a lovely trip on the strings.
—Draft by Vince Gotera [Do not copy or quote . . . thanks.]
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Three of my axes, going back to 1969.
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Here is Alan's poem, merging prompts as well.
Don’t Tell Me about Music Lessons
because the biggest lessons I learned early
came from a cousin who worked
as the school system band director
who did some prep training for fifth graders
before they went to junior high school,
and I was learning alto sax
and did practice every day,
and one day, he said in front of everybody,
“If you can play this solo,
I will give you all the change in my pocket,”
and I played it, he said “Good,”
and he reached into his pocket
to find that he had far more change
than he intended to give anybody,
and he muttered “too much” loud enough
for us to hear him, and he gave me
a quarter. I learned that day
that blood ties mean nothing
to some people, that some “teachers”
don’t think children matter enough
to keep from lying in front of them,
and that there would have to be
a difference between respecting
someone and treating that person
respectfully. I haven’t forgotten.
—Draft by Thomas Alan Holmes [Do not copy or quote . . . thanks.]
For shame, for shame! And a cousin too.
Friends, won’t you comment, please? Love to know what you’re thinking. Thanks!
Ingat, everyone. ヅ |
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1 comment:
I think this prompt practically begs for a story, a mini-memoir if you will. I went in that direction too. Well-done, both of you!
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