Martina Lynch

The Melody Maker.

Womanly tones in overdrive

Sleek black leather, caress her thighs

The bass hits hard, the crowd rise 

To the queen of rock n' roll.


Liquid, sassy, chords,split

The grinding, glassy, neck slips

Bending strings across her hips

The Melody Maker folds.


Magic Cherry Bomb drops

Black hearted angels, larynx pops

Her husky vocal chords rock

Of Barracudas wrath.


In the crowd their hearts meet

The heavy air of drum beats

Rhythm takes her to the streets

As she remembers the teenage feet

Of a delinquent Runaways soul.

                                                     D. Cash


  • phantom bride

    very nice work, so descriptive I felt as if I was there. Rock on

  • Candlewitch

    wow! a fantastic tribute! JJ would love this!

    *hugs, Cat

  • Martina Lynch

    Isn't she just amaze balls...sends goose bumps down my spine....Love that woman!

  • FredPeyer

    Martina, your poem is just dead on! You caught the rythm, the allure, the excitement of this icon of rock-n-roll.

    • Martina Lynch

      She oozes rock n' roll Fred, the crowd go wild when she plays!

      • FredPeyer

        And the crowd will go wild when they read your poem!

      • 2 more comments

      • Heather T

        Ohmagosh I LOVE her, and your tribute rocks hard! Outrageously cool, Martina.

        • Martina Lynch

          Thanks Heather glad you like it!

        • malubotelho

          Very beautiful tribute poem. I felt myself in an auditorium. Thanks

        • Accidental Poet

          I love Rock & Roll. Excellent write Martina. EXCELLENT!!! ; )

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