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Bass Poetry?

Discussion in 'Off Topic [BG]' started by tonedeaf, Oct 21, 2002.


  1. tonedeaf

    tonedeaf Supporting Member

    Here's a little ode to the bass I wrote once when I was feeling poetic. In addition to holding down the bottom, I am a sometime lyricist/writer.

    Anybody else have bass-related poetry?

    the bottom
    hits you in the chest
    like warm liquid butter
    from a firehose
    man oh man
    the masses
    attend most to the
    trebly moans, screeches, squeals
    but the bottom dwellers know
    what time it is
    the bottom often seems to go unnoticed
    but if it were to fall out
    they would notice the crash
    or at least have a disturbing
    sense of loss
    the bottom
    hits you in the chest
    like warm liquid butter
    from a firehose
    man oh man
     
  2. john turner

    john turner You don't want to do that. Trust me. Staff Member Administrator

    Mar 14, 2000
    atlanta ga
    here's a couple of my better works (think dr. seuss)...

    The Ric with no Pick

    On a bright sunny day, a few months before May
    To the guitarshop, good Conrad, there's a bass you must play

    Among the cymbals that ring, and the keyboards that sing
    Behind the various nefarious skinny stringed things

    A burgandy glow leads those in the know
    To a princess of basses, a queen of notes low

    With her curves and her chrome, she begs for a new home
    With promises of music on nights all alone

    "Good sir" Conrad asks, all politeness and care
    "May I play that red bass, the Sweet Ric over there?"

    The sales dude nods as he answers the call
    And gets the red bass gently off of the wall

    With an amp and a chord and the bass in demand
    He then offers a plectrum in his outstretched hand

    With a smile and shrug and a sly wink of his eye
    Conrad declines the kind offer and lets his fingers fly

    The sales dude's mouth moves but he can't say a thing
    As Conrad makes music with just fingers and strings

    He finally can speak and he turns to the door
    He shouts and he pouts - he can't take anymore

    "Hey Jerry Hey Nick I'm gonna be sick
    He's playing that Ric, and he don't got a pick"

    Other sales dudes gather at the un-heard-of noise
    Of the Ric being played with no finger toys

    "It's plinking and plucking, it's growling and clucking
    It sounds like a duck in a truck who is ...trucking"

    As they listened in fear, they started to hear
    the sweet real sound of the bass ringing clear

    Their smiles grew wide, they drooled starry eyed
    As the growl of the Ric could not be denied

    Then entered a cat, with a tall stripey hat
    Who said, loud and rude, "We'll have none of that"

    "This rhyming must stop, someone must call the cops
    I will end this my self with a few careful 'chops'"

    So from then on all the sales dudes told
    of the bass on the wall that will never be sold

    Because this guy came in once and played with no pick
    on this princess of basses, the sweet burgandy Ric


    The Pedulla Covered In Beer

    Well, my arm you've been twistin, so i'm sure you'll be listenin
    To the tale of a bass that was gooey and glistening

    From a thin coat applied by a drunk who'was denied
    Of much forward momentum as he shook, side to side

    With the tragic misstep of this blind-drunken schlepp
    My fretless was doused - did it suck, I say Yep!

    I warn you right now, this gets naughty, and how!
    But you asked and you asked, so this tale I'll allow.

    It was ten years ago, ah, the memories now flow
    Of those days of sweet halcyon, so long ago

    Ah those sweet college days, and my hellion ways,
    To revisit them now, i would pays and would pays.

    But the peace of my youth, to end so uncouth
    Was quite jarring and marring, to tell you the truth

    T'was a cold Wednesday night, i was at open Mic
    Free jazz and improv with whoever i like

    I was there with my date, who had been a bit late,
    She was getting her friend, and had joined me past 8

    Now, Anita was fun, and she was my first one
    My first, that is, who was almost 41 (yrs old)

    Before you shriek "Ack" you should know she was Stacked
    And with Ideas and Stamina too, she was packed

    T'was her plan to get me, and her friend to make three
    Can you believe it? Teen boy fantasy, and all for free!!

    I was still just a lad, t'was my goal to be bad
    And when i saw her and her friend, boy was i glad

    You see Terry was tall, and she had big cannon balls,
    She and Anita strode in like two leather-clad dolls

    While I'm waiting to play, with my two dates, I parlay
    The plans for the evening, and then the next day (hoo boy!)

    When a drunken bald fool, trying to act real cool
    Bangs into the table as he tries to pull up a stool

    My water goes "Sploooosh!" (i don't drink alchohol)
    But the "girls" both have beer, and they both take a fall

    Splash onto the case! Seeps onto the bass!
    There is beer dripping now all over the place!

    I am shrieking and growling, the drunk's laughing and yowling
    The floor, with his blood, i am planning on fouling

    When the two ladies stand, and Terry gives me her hand
    As Anita leaves for some towels to demand

    As I wipe up that sh*t, the "girls" giggle a bit
    Then they both grab my arms and then force me to sit

    Then, one on each side, they were mauling my hide
    As the drunk was just watching, his eyes opened wide

    Kissing and squeezing, on my neck they were teasing
    And i knew that soon there would be more serious pleasing

    This lasted a while, then we got up and smiled
    And left the dark place, with swagger and style

    In the Lot! In the Car! Right outside of the Bar!
    I'm amazed that we were able to drive very far

    Now I'd been with some girls, and a few were real pearls
    But after that night, I was a man of the world (or so i thought at the time)

    With this clear portrayal, I'd best end this tale
    Before I say any more and it lands me in jail
     
  3. Dave Castelo

    Dave Castelo

    Apr 19, 2000
    Mexico
    obviously JT wins this poetry contest :D
     
  4. ldiezman

    ldiezman

    Jul 11, 2001
    Nashville
    Yeap. the winner is JT.. I hope that last one was true.. hellafunny...
     
  5. tonedeaf

    tonedeaf Supporting Member

    Hey, it wasn't supposed to be a contest, just an open exchange of expression (says the loser)

    :mad: ;)
     
  6. Pacman

    Pacman Layin' Down Time Staff Member Gold Supporting Member

    Apr 1, 2000
    Omaha, Nebraska
    Endorsing Artist: Roscoe Guitars, DR Strings, Aguilar Amplification
    The coolest thing about that, John, is the "trueness" of the story :D
     
  7. i'll reprint my award-winning haiku:

    Fieldy playing bass;
    Browsing through Talkbass forums.
    Both make one sound: CLICK
     
  8. tonedeaf

    tonedeaf Supporting Member

    dancehallclasher gets my vote!

    what have i started?


    Innocent poem
    Starts poetic war - talkbass
    overwhelmed with hits

    :rolleyes:
     
  9. when i first played my bass in the store i wrote a poem about it. i was like 12. its lame, and i dont remember it, but its carved into my amp which is in the school music room. maybe i'll share it later.
    -shoonk
     
  10. Blackbird

    Blackbird Moderator Staff Member Supporting Member

    Mar 18, 2000
    California
    There once was a man...
    Oh, wait, this is a haiku,
    Not a Limerick!
     
  11. Nick Gann

    Nick Gann Talkbass' Tubist in Residence

    Mar 24, 2002
    Silver Spring, MD
    There once was a man from Nantucket, umh.. eh...

    There once was a pirate named Gates, uh.. urrr...

    An amazing bird is the pelican, ahh... *cough*


    I think I'm gonna stop here... ;)
     
  12. john turner

    john turner You don't want to do that. Trust me. Staff Member Administrator

    Mar 14, 2000
    atlanta ga
    yeah, that's right, you've gigged with that bass. you can attest to the scent. :D
     
  13. john turner

    john turner You don't want to do that. Trust me. Staff Member Administrator

    Mar 14, 2000
    atlanta ga
    all true, the names were not changed to ... uh... embarrass a couple of old chicks, i guess. :eek: :D.
     
  14. Pacman

    Pacman Layin' Down Time Staff Member Gold Supporting Member

    Apr 1, 2000
    Omaha, Nebraska
    Endorsing Artist: Roscoe Guitars, DR Strings, Aguilar Amplification
    It wasn't the odor, per se. But the little curly hairs stuck in the bridge kind of freaked me out :eek:
     
  15. mans0n

    mans0n

    Jun 15, 2002
    wow


    thats a really deep poem John Turner (the first one)

    i couldnt stop laughing!

    ahh! too funny
     
  16. ldiezman

    ldiezman

    Jul 11, 2001
    Nashville
    euhhhh.. ok thats just not necessary.. you need to stop...:rolleyes: :rolleyes: ;)