Archive for the Poetry Category

Baghead Writes A Love Song

Posted in Family, Home Studio, Lifestyle, Poetry, Songwriting with tags , , on 04/08/2012 by Baghead Kelly

Here’s a little song that I wrote for my wife. Excuse the quality; it’s strictly low-fi – I recorded this with two push button cassette players to bounce down tracks.

[https://soundcloud.com/baghead-kelly/song-for-cassandra-demo]

Verse 1

More than a thousand miles away,
I send my love to my baby today.
I guess I’m just a sentimental fool,
A lovelorn poet in a world so cruel.

Verse 2

I want to run my fingers gently through your hair,
But every time Cass baby your not there.
I’m waiting for the day when you walk through my door,
And two becomes one just like it was before.

Verse 3

Eloquence escapes me at about verse three,
Rhyming couplets and poetry.
One baby two baby three wait and see,
All your babies sitting on this daddies knee.

Verse 4

I guess I’m tired of waiting this waiting game,
Whats a candle without its girlie flame.
Wait for me Cass because I’m true blue,
I’m coming back baby just to marry you.

Outro

I love you,
I need you, need you, need you,
And it won’t be long before we’re back together.

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Songwriting – Weekday Blues

Posted in Art, Home Studio, Music, Poetry, Sixties, Songwriting with tags , on 03/15/2012 by Baghead Kelly

Here’s a song I wrote a long time ago but since I’ve been mucking around with Cubase I thought I’d revive it while I learn the processes. It’s nuthin’ fancy to quote Lynyrd Skynyrd but it might be amusing to those with an offbeat sense of humour. I patterned it after The Easybeat’s “Friday On My Mind”, one of my favourite bands.

[https://soundcloud.com/baghead-kelly/weekday-blues-original]

 

Limericks

Posted in Humor, Poetry with tags , , on 01/18/2012 by Baghead Kelly

My Dad recites poetry to me and its the limericks that I usually like the most. Since I like the form, I thought that I would give it a crack.

Scottish carronade

Kaboomba!

 There once was a soldier from Adelaide,

who juggled for fun with his hand grenade,

He thought he was good,

More so than he should

and ended his life like a carronade.

There once was a thinker most odd,

Who denied the existence of God

and upon his death bed,

I’ve heard that its said,

He came back, in the form of a frog…………….ribbett