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Left Hand Clump

by Dan Linn

Strapped, lock clicked umbilical amplifier.
Address fingerboard, hello riff caress.
Left hand clumps, sign language incantation,
secret gang handshake, muscles memory bunch,
right hand clutch, pick pinched and poised.
Callous impressions of strings trigger,
intoxicating cocktails of chemical pleasure
burned unconscious in repetition countless.
Predictable, 'til some random principle
pool ball caroms possible alternates
cascading showers, pitches increasing
until bucking chaos reined by head to end.

06/07/2010

Author's Note: This is an attempt to illustrate the subjective feeling of playing guitar from neurological point of view.

Posted on 11/02/2011
Copyright © 2025 Dan Linn

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Colleen Sperry on 11/02/11 at 02:24 PM

Love the third line! thanks for sharing!

Posted by LK Barrett on 11/02/11 at 10:15 PM

...as the world's worst rythmn guitar player, I am continually hoping for "intoxicating cocktails of chemical pleasure"...sigh. So clearly and evocatively stated, such elegance and precision that express both tension and release...love it. ty for the write...lk

Posted by Lori Blair on 11/02/11 at 10:41 PM

Oh gosh I so can relate to this..well..I know my son can even more so, I listen! He plays guitar! Excellent..

Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 11/03/11 at 02:33 AM

Makes me want to play, strum, riff, poise - this is just loaded with nuances. The vicarious pleasure I feel watching a fine guitarist must be magnified many times within the guitarist him/herself. This pulls the details closer to me. Thank you.

Posted by Rob Littler on 11/12/11 at 01:51 AM

well, you didn't need the note because it came through in the writing...nicely captured

Posted by Leslye Writer on 02/01/12 at 12:58 PM

I remembered this poem when I was standing in the guitar store in Spain. So I guess you could say I took this poem to Spain with me. In my carry on. Viceral and obviously it stuck to me.

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