
Somewhere,
Out there—
Beyond the machine—
The bluesman,
Ever can he be heard.
An undiscovered soul,
With grit in his growl
And pain in his howl;
No stranger in this town.
His mama raised this son—
Always the center of fun—
The blues shot out of the gun.
Mr. Technique shaped into soul—
Have a cigar, y’all—
With or without you,
Mr. Bluesman’s guitar-graced voice
Will forever melt gold!
POET’S NOTE:
To the King of Swing himself, with much love. Here’s looking at you, Richie Sambora! ❤️
© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
First published on tristanrobertlange.com, August 26, 2026.

COMING SOON:
The Shaman by Appalachian Virtual Ensemble

© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.


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