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Death Music Poems | Death Poems About Music

These Death Music poems are examples of Death poems about Music. These are the best examples of Death Music poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Lyric | |

Pins and Needles

Another song written in middle school - edited of course. ;)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Verse 1] I'm trapped within these walls Never to leave at all I am the prisoner inside my own home My spirit is broken I do not believe I'm locked in this chamber which I cannot leave [Chorus] The needles that break the skin The anger that runs within I’m giving it all away Just to stay alive The needles that pierce my veins It will never be the same We’re on pins and needles now It’s how we survive [Verse 2] They say he’ll find me soon Got to get out of this room The blood will spill and he’ll take what he wants to I’ll never let him through GET OUT OF MY DREAM He whispers in darkness, “I’m not who I seem…” [Chorus] [Verse 3] The four walls around me They start to close in I know I’m too late now I know I can’t win So just tell me I’m crazy It’s all in my head You’re not the killer And I am not dead [Chorus] [Breakthrough] Don’t tell me it’s impossible To start it all over again Infection sinks through your pale skin You’ll curse the day that I’m dead [Chorus]

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2011

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

the day you flew to Heaven


           We knew , it was if a moment stopped in time 
              hearing the news before most of the World did
           He loved to fly his plane from Colorado to Monterey Bay
           He was a avid golfer at Pebble Beach respected 

           He had loves and passions from many places 
           deciding to fly low through the overcast red sunset
            Not only did he love music and inspire all 
            He loved his Plane , he will always remain a beautiful Soul

              The next day it was confirmed ..all saddened 
             It was John Denver's plane that went down
             Today in Pacific Grove stands the Memorial 
             So Kiss me and smile for me we will ~
              always in loving memory 
               OH babe ,  do we hate you go ~    
                            
    

         Inspired by ; contest in Music and Loss of an Artist
                   "Leaving on a Jet Plane "
             

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Death - Remember me Tomorrow

Death – Remember me Tomorrow

Votre amour est tout ce que j'implore
Angels took us from France's shores
To the promised land of lady liberty
Hollywood glitter enticing us lovers with mystery

Living the past in a cinematic telling
Ironic that love was sourly spurned
By Bogart’s charming quilted misgivings
Madeline, later would sadly sing

La Marseillaise, while lovers embrace
Paris after dark, they disappear with no trace
Trains to death and boats to freedom
As Casablanca tells of romantic tales

Je suis vieux, est je suis seul
The beautiful one misses the past and you
All the ships have sailed and gone
It’s the cemetery now where I rest under lawn

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

Details | Lyric | |

WE ALL DIE

My piety,my poetry ,my love
All are in vain
my music, my love ,my mind
All are running insane

My rhymes are all crooked
I can't write a perfect song
Looks like my life is worthless
my music, my poetry its all gone

Behold the paradox,
In these old rhymes 
living in a worthless life 
All these times 

The music's almost over
just need to turn out the light
I need just one leap
Need to show on last fight

I need to create something
something that makes you feel
the goal isn't to live forever
Its to create something that will

Copyright © anbes rawal | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ode | |

Renaissance Reed

     Lou Reed , Mistral of his time
     so you walked this road on the wild side
     unique in music , never selling out 
     believing in Art instead of commercialize
     
     Lou Reed the musician never compromised ~
     Sweet Jane not enough for our crowd of eccentric rockers 
     still will live forever with the many that left before you
     one can imagine from John Lennon to Johnny Ramone 

     a party in Heaven of the finest rock bestowed 
     no text , no MTV when they pursued a dream 
     New York, hotel Chelsea an age of Renaissance
     ragged jeans and leather jackets ,Art on stage  

     No, your Rock not ever fade away , it will stay sweet Jane forever ~

      For the fine Man with words , ode to Lou Reed .

     

     
     


Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

Above the Ocean Path


  " .... can you hear the bells ? ... "
             ~~~   ~~~


I trudge along the ocean path
up the hill to the promenade.
Above the crashing waves I stand,
then memories, my thoughts, invade.

Behind me, white and old, as I,
the abandoned church beckons me.
It says " do you remember when?"
"Think back ... what do you see?"

I remember lilacs blooming
and music from inside,
when this was a church full of life,
when I became a bride.

But now the lilacs fade from sight,
a deserted shell is all I see.
There is no music playing.
Sadness settles over me.

The curtains blow through broken panes.
They billow in the breeze
as if they're trying to escape
out to the beckoning seas.

Once upon a time we were
Alive ! , this church and I.
But we are old and empty now
and ready now to die.


           ~~~   ~~~
"behind the church is a promenade
     they call the Widows Walk"




   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~

    23/09/2011

Copyright © Francine Roberts | Year Posted 2011

Details | Elegy | |

Moon Walk on Your Grave

Moon Walk on Your Grave

A life begun in stardom,
now, ending up in shame.
Relentless media, cruel world,
who then is there to blame.

A sadness inside,
no tears on your face.
The pain all but over,
mass confusion erase.

In wonder we watch,
can a life be explained?
Can't surface your agony,
under facade you remained.

Let's focus on the talent,
musical joy that you gave.
In peace now I pray,
moon walk on your grave.

© Rene' Brady 2009

Copyright © Rene' Brady | Year Posted 2009

Details | Imagism | |

SLEEPING WITH THE DEVIL'S WIFE

   SLEEPING WITH THE DEVIL'S WIFE
Some night you'll wake before morning
Sweatin to the oldies she will sing.
She'll make you think you're in Heaven...
Long enough to tell you ANYTHING...

And you'll believe her.

Some night you'll wake up hearing voices
Sweatin to the oldies of here life.
She'll never say you're in Heaven.
Or tell you you've been sleeping with the Devil's Wife.

She'll never tell you, you've been sleeping with the Devil's wife.

But you will KNOW.
You will know.

That's when you'll need her.
That's when you'll love her the most.
That's when you will die.
Sleeping with the Devil's wife.

That's when you will die.
   
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa ---hear the song and First take Video on Youtube, search for vee bdosa then select SLEEPING WITH THE DEVILS WIFE. One of my personal favorites, more poetry than song.

Copyright © Vee Bdosa | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme | |

Michael Jackson

When I think about Michael, my eyes start to tear
He never learned to love, the man in the mirror

His gifts Thriller and Bad, made him the king of pop
A true innovator, creating the moon walk

That dirty Diana, never gave him a kiss
He was a smooth criminal, we were the witness

Loved by many millions, he lived behind his gate
Neverland his prison, prescription pills his fate

A life not fully lived,  too soon came to an end
He preferred fantasy, a strange world of pretend

He started to early, wanted to be a child
A part of him missing, his talking voice so mild

Still whenever he sang, he created fashion 
What could ever compare, with that kind of passion?

He continues to dance, an image on our screen
He was one of a kind, the best I've ever seen

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Bell's Blues

Staring, vapor locked, at my Hammond B-3 console organ, which dominates my 
kitchen.  Surely a symbol of my madness.  I can't help, but think, if the keys were 
the days of my life, and the black ones represented the bad days, are there 
enough black keys??  Fighting petulance, self-pity...losing...
     Wondering if I can stand another minute alone.  Atop my organ, music books, 
and the complete works of Edgar Allan Poe, another mad poet.
     Plagued by physical agonies that merely complete a perfect circle of anguish 
and distress.  Even to worrying of misspelling a word again.  Pure lunacy.
     Remembrance of my 1863 death at Missionary Ridge, something I became 
aware of as a young child before I'd ever heard of reincarnation.  Or just an early 
sign of the madness to come??
     I am lost in a befouling miasma of deep despair.  My life's hopes down to 2 
desires;  one last music band, and taking my son to Disneyworld.  Money is 
meaningless to me.
     I am well aware that death is as natural as life.  And I would venture to guess 
that the loss of my father, my young cousin Billy, my dear friend Mark Trotiner, and 
too many others, are "Business As Usual" in this universe.  But not for me.
     Being terminally ill myself is something I have long since come to terms with.  
And what a reunion it will be!!  But I must continue to go on surviving as though I 
cherish this long and barren life.
     My writing, especially my poetry, my poet friends, my music, my musician 
friends, and a few relatives and others; these are the meds that work for me; not 
the 30 or so pills I must deal with everyday.  So thank you all.
And now an addendum, one which brightened my day:
     Mark Trotiner long maintained that he gave Mark Knoffler (Dire Straights) the 
idea for his hit song "Money For Nothing", when Mark Knoffler came into the 
appliance chain store he worked in way back then, where he bought, and drove 
off with several T.V.s, singing the prototype words he'd gotten from Mark Trotiner.  
Over the years, I tested him repeatedly, looking for the tale-tell deviation in the 
story one finds in a false tale.  He never faltered, he never failed.
    Continued.....

Copyright © tom bell | Year Posted 2007

Details | Lyric | |

Watch Me Die

The petals of a rose, they tremble and they fall
Just like my aching heart, my backs against a wall
so I Scream- but no one seems to hear me 
(and) I Bleed- but no one seems to worry 
(and) I Cry- but no one spares a passing glance
(and) I Die- no one seems to care

My mask, it melts away
as the flames burn through my bones, the pain it never fades
and its worse because i know the angels are not here to save me
everthing but you hates me
and im stuck with all this trapped inside
Im forced to sit and watch me die

Im in an empty room...
all hope disenegrates.
nothing left to do but get drunken, high
im willing to do anything just to get by

so I Scream- but no one seems to hear me 
(and) I Bleed- but no one seems to worry 
(and) I Cry- but no one spares a passing glance
(and) I Die- no one seems to care

My mask, it melts away
as the flames burn through my bones, the pain it never fades
and its worse because i know the angels are not here to save me
everthing but you hates me
and im stuck with all this trapped inside
Im forced to sit and watch me die
Im forced to sit and watch me die

Copyright © Chelsea Stufleben | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme | |

The King Of Pop

from his abc's
to that freaky billy jean

came a pop star 
for all to love and see

from the apollo's stage
wondered if you were ready for screaming rage

for you never had a childhood of bliss
only done what was on joseph's list

a studded white glove 
and white socks just because

a star on the hollywood walk of fame
for you sang and danced showing no shame

scandals of twisted truth
did not detour you from your missing youth

neverland was your own safari escape
who would figure your best friend would be a chimp of faith

michael may god cradle you in his arms
and basked in your king of pops worldly charm

will forever miss that porcelain smile
and always think of you on my radio dial

for now your at your heavens trial
may god forgive this lost and lonely child




In Loving Memory Of
Michael Joseph Jackson
Aug 29th 1958 - June 25th 2009

           RIP

Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2009

Details | Lyric | |

In My Eyes

Find a way to me. A way you will find. See the colors, In my eyes. Drain the grey, And the black. Bring the color, In my eyes. See flashing of blue, Flashes of green, Flashes of brown. If you search for me, Search for my eyes, There I will be found. See the rainbow inside. To think I went insane. You weren't mine. That's what would keep me sane. Dreams and flashbacks come into view. Thinking of what could we've been, Thinking of the pictures of you, Thinking of what we had, I knew I was doomed. See flashing of blue, Flashes of green, Flashes of brown. If you search for me, Search for my eyes, There I will be found. Much of darkness is in my eyes. Haven't you noticed I've been down? Showed my all the lies, Do you know in my tears, I drown? See flashing of blue, Flashes of green, Flashes of brown. If you search for me, Search for my eyes, There I will be found. See flashing of blue, Flashes of green, Flashes of brown. If you search for me, Search for my eyes, There I will be found. There I will wait, There I will cry, There I will relate, There I will die. ~ORIGINAL~ <3 Evalina Elena Eshiii E>

Copyright © Mackenzie Brooke | Year Posted 2012

Details | Ballad | |

Martyr for the Unorthodox word

If I had over 10,000 dreams You'd be the only thing my mind could see Judgment couldn't be real Succumbing to the fear of this cold life Find a way to break through The self-destruction of wordly delusions Don't tell me I've lived so long in a lovely illusion Break me down until we find a Nirvanic state Then bring me a savior from transgressions An atoning sacrifice Send down to me a messenger for me to submit to Bring me the truth to break through The delusion Bring me the messenger to explain it all And let me leave behind Sorrow's caressing the earth The caliphate stole my heart Without a will to fight But I have the Means to be free I'll try to go with the word I believe But so many stones to be thrown Stakes to burn, limbs to break Faces to hate, scorns to taste Will I have the will to die Despite all of the tears no one will cry Sorrow's caressing the earth The caliphate stole my heart Broke my will Safetefied my soul Martyr for the Unorthodox word Sorrow's caressing the earth The caliphate stole my heart Without a will to fight But I have the Means to be free I'll try to go with the word I believe But so many stones to be thrown Stakes to burn, limbs to break Faces to hate, scorns to taste Will I have the will to die Despite all of the tears no one will cry Sorrow's caressing the earth The caliphate stole my heart Broke my will Safetefied my soul Martyr for the Unorthodox word

Copyright © Wyatt Loethen | Year Posted 2012

Details | I do not know? | |

BOATMAN

There is a misty hanging over the lake
A line of pollen    colorless in the smoke    lapping the bank
With things    those outlined    unreachable
    against the far    far shore
Needle outlines    pines    roof of an old tool shed
    ghostly    wondering    within
Eyes    imagined yellow    peering    red    wet
    tongues hanging
This the very sort of day to set one odd-dreaming
There is a quiet    distant music sounding    then
A faint ripple    distant plash awakens vision
I cannot see    but hear the musical dipping of oars

"Hey!    Boatman!" I yell into the gloom
"Hey!    Boatman!    How deep?"    no reply
"Would I wade out?    Is there an undertow?    Would I sink
    only make a pin-point entry    be lost eternally?"
    I laugh    No reply
Still the steady dipping    now growing near    now far
    the steady dipping to a heartbeat      maddening!
         to think he might appear at any moment
    dreaming to the quiet    eerie music    and on
                  and on
"Apparition!    Won't you speak?    I've watched    
    listened for hours it seems
                  then
A breeze    at last    cuts the gloom
My vision starts!
There is no one out there
"Hey!    Boatman!
Where?"

Copyright © daver austin | Year Posted 2008

Details | Lyric | |

Tears

A great day ending in tragedy
now you wait until you get the news
I was scattered in different forms
The car door was slammed into my side
The doctor walks in to give you the news
You fall to the floor
Tears falling from your face
Your makeup running down unto your clothes
Making a stain where your heart used to be
I took you back into the darkest place of my soul
Something was different more darker than before
Now you wait until the funeral of your lost love
Your standing in the corner
Your face is covered in darkness
The blood runs from your eyes
How it hurts in the worst way now that im gone
Your realizing how much i meant to you
Something you havent seen before
Your blindness fades away as you start to see
You fall to the floor fainting
No one picks you up
They drop my casket into my little hole
Where i will stay all life long
How your tears fall unto the ground
Getting soaked up by the soil
Drowning me in your tears
Admire the past no more ways to see the future
Now that your starting to love me more
You wait until you see me in a dream
Dying like the past
As your moving on i fade away
I am no longer alive
You left me behind

Copyright © Shayla Dendinger | Year Posted 2012

Details | Elegy | |

Elegy for Michael Jackson (3)

Refrain:
You shimmering waves on the ocean blue
Dance not again, he cannot dance with you
You weeping forests where the winds wail too
Let your bright tears fall in the pool of dew
The world of pop will never be the same again
The king is dead, and life is a dream so vain.

                  O day most callous like the callous world, how
                   Did you come about? By whose love designed,
                   Whose genius bore him, gave him life? O now
                   Do tell us of his human coming, since maligned
                   It's oft forgotten that he was somebody's child
                   Context in a world where his skin was reviled:
                   And yet some marveled that he parted from it
                   To build a world different from base to summit.

Genius is a gift and not a choice, and he was all
A moment's glimpse of earth's troubled paradise
For Michael was not mere mortal he was our tall
Selves transformed to art, so nuanced to the wise
That understood how his dance moves were silk
Syllables of protest and regret, a symbol cocooned
In loneliness, a man pining for the rare social milk
Of happiness against a material breast, festooned

                    With a race unhappiness. He was more than we
                    Saw with naked eye, Michael was an artist true
                    Context in all our history. And yet his mortality
                    Was not less not vulnerable due to fame, a blue
                    Note then sing for him, remember this day's despair
                    How the fickle fans in fragile praise came again
                    Away from the media's maddening glare to share
                    This moment of dark our universal deluge of pain.

O Indiana, this is your son, O America this here
Is your native child, weep here ye poets, weep
For him, the poet of the broken soul, Let no tear
Leave a eye that's dry for the lullaby of his sleep
Come ye world that felt his charity, beg angels
Hear us and welcome him; Michael, forever we 
Will keep our hearts beating for you, in citadels
Of shining peace when your songs bring memory. 

Copyright © L'nass Shango | Year Posted 2009

Details | Bio | |

THE LYRE WAS HIS DISGUISE

Nero was a cruel, unfair emperor playing 
the lyre as his disguise to conceal his consuming guilt;
and he caused destruction without feeling
an ounce of pity for those he governed with distrust.


Why did he want to destroy a city so mighty and glorious,
and replace it with a Golden Palace and magnificent gardens?
It seems inconceivable, but it was confirmed by many as the Great Fire
which ravaged Rome for six horrible days...who dared to call Nero a liar? 


On the rooftop, with the widest view of Rome burning underneath,
Nero played the lyre as his disguise...singing,"The destruction of Troy" with derision.  
And while looking so innocent and sad, he did nothing to control it;
wasn't his madness an evident sign of that contemplated act brought to completion?  


Finding the scapegoats was too easy for him, to cover up his evil deed...
he blamed the Christians and had them thrown to the beasts of the Colosseum,
but many more were crucified along the Via Appia and was Nero appeased?
No, he still continued to play the lyre as his disguise with increased delirium.

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2010

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Bell's Blues (Conclusion)

     Today, I had a chance to ask his widow, Laurie, about this story.  She 
confirmed that it did happen, and he came home from work that day excited, and 
told her and their 3 daughters about the event.
     And sure enough, shortly thereafter, the song became a hit on the radio, and 
M.T.V., in those ancient days when they actually played music.
     This news brightened my day considerably, and I'm happy to share it with you; 
so when you next hear that song, remember my good buddy, Mark Trotiner, the 
uncredited genius behind it.
                                          tom bell

Copyright © tom bell | Year Posted 2007

Details | Lyric | |

The Escapist's Plea,

I dont know where i'm going anymore hard to tell who you are when the indiffrency has settled in cold, empty, barren will i ever find a way? Help me find a way out of this sorrow filled cage My soul singed with everyday Reality so hard to face I need to find a way to escape Only if i could just fly a way I try to stay sane But i fell under the september rain A repuiem for the reality That i never wish to see Help me find a way out of this sorrow filled cage My soul singed with everyday Reality so hard to face I need to find a way to escape Only if i could just fly a way I need a way to escape, Only if I could just fly away

Copyright © Wyatt Loethen | Year Posted 2012

Details | Lyric | |

Untitled #188 / STARDUST

“And STARDUST we will be again”

Copyright © Jesse Jones | Year Posted 2007

Details | Rhyme | |

Sad Song

I dreamt of you again last night,
I held you with all my might,
Tears flowed from my face,
As I yearned to never leave your embrace.
The smell of your skin,
The taste of your tears,
That moment was treasure,
But, treasure was a dream.

Waking up is agony,
Waking to this tragedy,
Waking to these bitter flames,
All these faces with no names,
Waking to a sad, old tale,
My heart’s in prison without bail,
Waking from eternal bliss,
It’s your love I truly miss.

If dreams were reality and reality was a dream
I’d sail right to heaven to be redeemed
I’d walk on the water with you by my side
In eternal bliss we would forever abide
But dreams are just streams of healing at night
This wound has been one of the hardest to fight
And I’ll keep dreaming of you till the stars have no light
For you were my baby but the times weren’t right!


Waking up is agony,
Waking to this tragedy,
Waking to these bitter flames
All these faces with no names,
Waking to a sad, old tale,
My heart’s in prison without bail,
Waking from eternal bliss,
It’s your love I truly miss.

BY: Sabina Nicole
Remembering: Louis James :(

Copyright © Sabina Nicole | Year Posted 2015

Details | Blank verse | |

he is leaving home

                            
                  In great respect of the band I grew up listening to
                       as sure as Mom passed down Saturday Chores 
                      for I had been chosen to scrub bathroom floors `

                    Yet a familiar sound would bring me to keep scrubbing
                       The red album, The blue album , The White album 
                        Then .. Abbey Road , always remembering the sad look on
                  Ringo's face ,  something hard to understand underneath~
                       
                      I get it now, what you were saying all those years ago ,
                    the many sad lonely tears , secret tears , secret fears 
                    For Maxwell's Hammer was a real one . It wanted silence

                    Going back ..remembering when John Lennon died 
                      I was in Arkansas saddened with the world .
                      Then seeing his face saying " Drag isn't it " 
                      No .. this was not my hero in music and song .

                      he was a stand in hired William , he filled his shoes 
                      bringing diversity to create so much beautiful music from loss

                       One left standing , alone;; grief struck on back cover ~
                       The other identity hidden, tried to be part of ..coming together
                                                                                                                                                                        
                            his  world of secrets
                        He to suffers today , in fear , Faul~
                       
                        Too many years gone by .let us tell the Truth. Let us be free
                         The very sad long and winding Road ~
                         Let us Bury our real Paul. 

                         No more " Mystery tour "
                             No more fear 
                                Let him be in peace ~


           Inspired by " The Last Testament of George Harrison , Is Paul Dead ? "

                





Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric | |

When I Die

When I die
please call the cops
don't lie
then put my body on some hot rocks.
play 2Pac
over my block 
to honor me
then spread my ashes across the Black Sea.
My life of sin
will be over
when the train pulls in
life will be on my shoulder.
I'm in the zone
all alone.
When I'm gone
will it turn you on?
will it make you happy?
will it make you sad?
will it make you go crazy?
and will it make you mad?
When I die
don't tell my dad
he's a father that I never had,
just another face in my broken past.
The good memories
never seem to last.
Let life go on
for my son
may he never touch a gun.
I'll fly like a lightning rod
to the house of god.
This life is getting stranger
everywhere I go
I'm always in danger.
Let my soul linger on
let em' drop the bomb
let em' sing this song
learn right from wrong
smoke out of my bong
let the band play on.

When I die
will you cry?
will you try
to lie
about the way I died?
Will you honor my pride?

Illuminati confirmed
I will lay where my homies burned.
Everything I've seen
everything I've learned.
You've turned.
I hope I still grow
after I go.
I hope my rhymes will heard
all my words
by the birds
far away
okay.
I hope I don't go like Marvin Gaye
but, it's better to burn out
than to fade away.

When I die 
will you cry?
Will you try
to lie
about the way I died?
Will you honor my pride?

Now, I know 
I said and did a lot of things.
That I hurt you.
That's what really stings
because I know how much you tried 
to help me through.
Play those strings.
All my love
all the hard times
all these rhymes
and those crimes.
Your my dove
my first true love.
You will always be in my heart
I made the teardrops start.
All my art
walking after dark
my fiction is stark.

When I die
will you cry?
Will you try
to lie
about the way I died?
Will you honor my pride?

Don't reject
my respect 
for the dead
or I'll pump your guts full of lead.
You will see a lot of red.
I'm a thug
when I'm holdin' a slug.
If I catch wind
of you harming my friend 
it will be your end.
Enough said.

When I die
will you cry?
Will you try
to lie
about the way I died?
Will you honor my pride?





Copyright © Blake Holland | Year Posted 2016

Details | Lyric | |

The Sex Confessions

The Bed
Your Mouth
My Touch
Our Lips

It’s a fever
In the night
Forbidden

Forbidden

Desecrated and damned together
Desecrated and damned forever
One naked flesh, we’ll die together
One naked flesh, making love forever

The Flame
Your Cries
My Salt
Our Wounds

It’s a fever
In the night 
Forbidden

Forbidden

Desecrated and damned together
Desecrated and damned forever
One naked flesh, we’ll die together
One naked flesh, making love forever


The Earth
Your Rain
My Seed
Our Life

It’s a fever
In the night 
Forbidden

Forbidden. 

Desecrated and damned together
Desecrated and damned forever
One naked flesh, we’ll die together
One naked flesh, making love forever

Hell
Regrets
Confessions
Of Love

Your  Love
My Love
Our Love
Love

It’s a fever
In the night 
Forbidden

Forbidden. 

Desecrated and damned together
Desecrated and damned forever
One naked flesh, we’ll die together
One naked flesh, making love forever


Copyright © Catman Cohen | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

Gene, Gene, the Singing Machine

(in memoriam, Eugene Lawler, d. January 29, 2012, aged 83 years)

--- Note:  "The singing machine" is a not so tongue-in-cheek reference to Gene and his penchant for singing whenever and wherever he wished, as well as to his karaoke
equipment and his nickname at bars that featured karaoke nights. ---


You fancied yourself a singer,
and indeed you were.
What songs we heard from you
you had made your own,
and you gave them freely
to all who would listen
(though we were just a few
who were, at times, inattentive.)
Time and remembrance may color
the images you left behind,
and the sentimental songs
you sang (and scribed on silver disks 
for us to hear when, and if, we will)
may prod us to recall
your willful, dour demeanor
which could bloom into benevolence
or darken further in stormy sneers
at tardiness, or at perceived
maltreatment of any sort.
You were your own arbiter of behavior
who kept before you expectations
of what was appropriate, for yourself
and for us, the others of your kind.
We were few (still fewer now),
who flocked together on occasion
to celebrate, in quiet fashion,
whatever anniversary we chose --
perhaps your passing date
will become another to be marked.
And your voice, reproduced mechanically,
amplified, may remind us of our loss,
and of yours.  

Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme | |

I Don't Need Drugs

The only thing that is in my bong
is my gift of poetry and song.

Drugs are for thugs
that's hell in a nutshell.

I don't smoke
and I've never done coke.

Believe me
I know that I don't always tell thruth
and that I like to lie.
There has been enough brains fried.

Poet till I die.





Dedicated To All The Victims Of Addiction.


Copyright © Blake Holland | Year Posted 2016

Details | Terzanelle | |

George Gershwin Terzanelle

When you’re longing for someone to watch over you
think about building a stairway to paradise
even if it means you must dance alone with you.

It may feel hard for your heart to sing, soul to rise
It may seem like you got plenty of nutting,
no matter, let your heart climb a stairway to paradise.

Alone may seem lonely and off putting
Life filled with love means it ain’t necessarily so
Love fills you with song, if you embrace plenty of nutting.

For when life cuts you down, tells you it’s time to go,
or too early in life you think your man’s gone now,
trust me on this honey, it just ain’t necessarily so.

All alone with a keyboard, is one way to answer how
with things, even when you want  ‘em, you can’t get ‘em
 but music never leaves you, even after your love’s gone now.

With stuff, when you got ‘em, you may not want ‘em.
Be real and long for someone to watch over you.
With love of men, when you want ‘em, you can’t get ‘em.
Dance with heart upstairs, so you’ll never dance alone.

Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse | |

Home of the Slaves

Land of the free
Home of the slaves
The blood, sweat and tears of my ancestors resonate
Amongst the soil where they were slain
I’m hearing their struggle
I’m feeling their pain
I can’t imagine being forced to part from my family
All for massa’s gain
So I pay homage to those who promoted change

People like every slave who tried to escape
Nat Turner, Ms Carlotta, Harriet Tubman
And the safe houses who were in accord
And peg leg Joe with his song
Follow the drinking gourd.

People like, the disregarded - those thrown overboard
And who was dismissed and defamed
The ones who were stripped of their soul, their pride, their names

The list could go on  
The full will never be told
So I pay homage to others who were bold
Like John Brown, The Freedom Riders, Sojourner Truth
Ida B Wells, Phyllis Wheatley, Maya Angelou, 
Langston Hughes and Charles Drew

George Washington Carver, Ruby Bridges
Booker T Washington and Mary McCleod Bethune
Charles Houston, Ralph Bunche, Fredrick Douglass
WEB Dubois, Paul Robeson, Ralph Abernathy
Benjamin Banneker, Marcus Garvey and Crispus Attucks
Who’s death by the way
Symbolized the American lie
You cant declare the rights of all men
While the people of African decent rights get denied
But still we rise

Thanks to Dr Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, 
The Black Panthers, the Buffalo Soldiers and Tuskegee Airmen
None who were showed any love
Yeah it’s an uphill battle, 
But obviously greatness can be done.

We can rise above this stigma 
That blacks are lazy and daunting
That our worth is null and void 
And in essence minus nothing
And of all the names mentioned 
And the greatness of their successes
No one has been able to erase the evil transgressions of a racist mind
And once you have experienced just a taste of it
It changes your perception of time
The oppression beats like the drum on the chariot
Of when it was finally time to escape to freedom
It's mine

Copyright © humble b | Year Posted 2011

Details | Rhyme | |

God Save This World

Part 1: Save Us

The whole world went to pot
when, 2pac was shot
on the spot.

Why do Innocent people have to die?
Why do we have to sit and watch, as mothers cry?

People forgive the unforgiven.
Why do people have spend the rest of they're lives in prison?

Part 2: Save Me

I act like a dick 
in public.

I'm not crazy,
god just needs to save me.

I guess I'm in the zone.
That's why I'm sitting here alone.







Dedicated To Tupac Shakur.
1971-1996
R.I.P.

Copyright © Blake Holland | Year Posted 2016