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Poetry Magnum Opus

Remembering Guitar Chords


JoelJosol
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His fingers never forget

the chords he played on the guitar,

nor the tunes he hummed with it.

 

He remembers

the night he played them

after she walked away.

 

The strings vibrate fine,

the lyrics are about ex-lovers,

but the singing comes out like a moan.

 

He loves his guitar

and the slow notes he plucks,

his fingers sliding along its frets,

 

as if recalling the texture

of her skin.

"Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach

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Yes, Joel, I've been away from the guitar for awhile, but whenever I do pick it up, though I may be rusty, I find that it comes back quickly:

His fingers neither forget

the chords he played on the guitar,

nor the tunes he hummed with it.

I like how, for him, the guitar serves as a tangible reminder of his lost love.

 

Tony

Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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Being a guitar player....I enjoyed this poem.

I used to play electric guitar....Gibson les paul......cherry sunburst.....

now I just have a acoustic 12 string guitar.....

just had irt restrung and it sounds so beautiful.....but not as good as this poem's meaning.

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Thank you, Tony, pawn shop, and Tink.

 

I replaced 'neither' with 'never' as it sounded to me later as prosaic.

"Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach

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goldenlangur

Hi JoelJoso,

 

 

How well you evoke how feelings arise and are relived - the "guitar" here being the vehicle which bring these back. The "guitar" once symbolized their time together, his passionate courting and their love shared. But now quite poignantly picking it up again open the floodgates to those emotions and the poet relives the moments now gone.

 

 

The only tiny niggle is : I wondered if you need "as if" here?:

 

 

his fingers sliding along its frets,

 

as if recalling the texture

of her skin.

 

 

As ever, this is only my opinion - for you to ignore if you're happy with your poem as it stands.

 

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Joel this poem it is so wonderful and brings good and nostalgic feeling. The emotions here are simple but deep. I love this part:

 

His fingers never forget

the chords he played on the guitar,

nor the tunes he hummed with it.

 

And the end, ahh so emotional :

 

as if recalling the texture

of her skin.

 

Thank you for sharing this poem my friend

 

Aleksandra

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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Thanks for your appreciation, Sandra.

"Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach

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