GAS Poetry

sergiodeblanc

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Apr 26, 2012
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The Adamantine Perfection of Desire
by Jane Hirshfield
Nothing more strong
than to be helpless before desire.
No reason,
the simplified heart whispers,
the argument over,
only This.

No longer choosing anything but assent.
Its bowl scraped clean to the bottom,
the skull-bone cup no longer horrifies,
but, rimmed in silver, shines.
A spotted dog follows a b!tch in heat.
Gray geese flying past us, crying.
The living cannot help but love the world.






I have it bad for a West St LTD.
There would be no present musical practicality for such a purpose.
I should want a Hiland, 305 or a SAS.
But the wanting remains.
 
Roses are red,
violets are blue,
I went to buy a PRS,
and came home with two.

Take that Jane Hirshfield.

Also, Serg, can't blame you! Sweet looking axe.
 
Doth thou covet another's prize?

Did you reference yourself as a spotted dog?

What color sparkle would you paint it?

I, too, dream of this guitar. It's shockingly beautiful. Glad I'm not the only one that swiped the image so I can drool over it at will!
 
Everybody's got the fever
That is somethin' you all know
Fever isn't such a new thing
Fever started long ago

--Mancini/DiTullio
 
"Those who restrain desire do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained." -William Blake
 
This is an actual song from our next record we haven't recorded yet.

In my daily email, you arrived with a smile on your face
Lookin' sexy, so fine, temptation outweighs my good sense

You're what I've wanted
You're what I been looking for
You fill all my shallow needs
You fill all my desire du jour

And now you're on the way
And you're taking toooooooo loooooong
I'll just have to wait, wait another day!
this fukkin GAS flame

No rush to open the box, take my time, enjoy the moment
Happy New Guitar Day! To me! It's a joyous instant
My mad GAS flame, buy and sell game, never enough
Grass is greener, lean and meaner, always wanting more
Sell the greatest for the latest, my crazy GAS flame.
 
So much for GAS poetry. I'm ready for some GAS pottery.
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There once was an axe from Nantucket....

Nah - haiku:

Flaming top that kills,
The Brazilian makes me weep -
Why'd they make it blue?
 
When I come to the forum
My blood pressure is soarin'
I feel intense gas
Knowing I just cannot Pass
The thought of new guitar smell
Causes me to think, what can I sell
My Kidney or 1st born
and how to avoid the gf's scorn
The price is an ouch
and I will probably end up on the couch
That probably won't stop me
at least new I avoid the ebay fee
A DGT or maybe an SC
A Custom 22 or a P22
Maybe a Private Stock
May leave my head on the chopping block
So here is my Plastic and my kidney too
I only pray the next gas is left to Markie or You
Or I could get lucky and 11top will spot me
or I may just dream of a genie blue

Yeah I know corny but it is all I could think of at 2:30 in the morning
 
Alan...I'll finish it for you...

There once was a Soap from Nantucket,
who's owner would proudly pluck it...
He'd play it all night, cuz the neck felt just right,
At some point, Paul probably chucked it.
(Throw your axe in the air like ya just don't care)

A Custom Soapbar is of what we speak,,,
Who's neck is so straight, needs nary a tweak...
From Country to rock, even wearing a sock...
This axe is certainly not for the meek.
 
A guitar that was built in south Mar'land
Was played by a guy in a hair band.
When he made it squeal
He hoped ladies would feel
The area south of his waist band.
 
A guitar that was built in south Mar'land
Was played by a guy in a hair band.
When he made it squeal
He hoped ladies would feel
The area south of his waist band.

Markie's basement doesn't get the best cell reception. Double banged a post.
 
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