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Music Personification Poems | Personification Poems About Music

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

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Details | Personification |

I Rather Enjoy Being Played

By different lovers I’ve been kept,
some skillful and a few inept.
I always respond, unafraid.
I rather enjoy being played.

A Spaniard picked me up one time.
His classic strumming was sublime.
Notes poured from me like a cascade.
I rather enjoy being played.

That man released me, and soon I
was picked up by a strange punk guy
who stroked me roughly. Though betrayed,
I rather enjoy being played.

My strings broke often from his touch,
yet thrilled was I by his thrum. Such
unique new tunes from me were made.
I rather enjoy being played.

His sister held me awkwardly,
but then she sang so beautifully
it mattered not my sound would fade. . . 
I rather enjoy being played.

She and her brother gave me to
some plucking fools without a clue
till an artiste came to my aid.
I rather enjoy being played.

He pressed my frets, this handsome boy.
My stings were vibrating with joy.
I climaxed with his smooth glissade.
I rather enjoy being played.

With him I hope to have remained
in years to come. His love’s unfeigned.
Although I know at times he’s strayed,
I rather enjoy being played.


for the Word Play Contest of Kim Morrison


Details | Personification |

Ludwig’s Creation

My music breathes! Sunshine tossed on lakes!
Ripples raw…sensuous….buds open up to flower
Fast and slow….tender…rhythms rush like water
Quick chimes…rustic tendrils….feel my power

I rush upon your skin …I tease in tumult 
Belt laments of “love me ” on sandy shores
Sunrise skies…tangerine pink burst in open air
Passion’s cherry lips gasp out forever-mores

I am wide open space…fly with angel wings!
On a rush of wind…hear me taunt and drive you
I fling you on clouds too white and soft to hold you
Bathed in my brilliance….painted crystal blue

I fade in bleeding sunsets…song that softly dies
Remnants linger…particles behind your eyes 



Author's note:Für Elise in A minor for solo piano by Ludwig van Beethoven April 27 1810.
Beethoven scholars are not entirely certain who "Elise" was. Theory is that Beethoven 
originally titled his work "Für Therese"....Therese being a woman Beethoven intended to 
marry in 1810 and was also one of his students. However, she turned down Beethoven's 
proposal..It is said that Elise might have been a nickname for Therese….
This is such a beautiful piece of music and has always been one of my favorites


Written for Sir Brian’s Fan fare contest :)


Details | Personification |

You played me

Running your fingers
over my delicately tuned form.
Blind. - You know which keys to press.
To enhance sweet music  from me.
Happily and playfully,
my white notes singing love.
The darker side brings juxtaposed
moods and sadness,
pedalling drama and bitterness.
You know just how to play me.


Details | Personification |

HipHop Is dead

Hip-Hop is dead
I can’t feel the throb, the devotion, the dedication
I wear all black
Black stilettos, black cut dress, aimed real low
Seductive but simple, I know my place
Beside the King, my sweet deceased Revolutionist 
Rap’s number one supporter, holding the casket with a broken
           S I G H
Someone plays, a radio, across the way
Slick beats drip past the ears to slime the brain
Wet and easy manipulated clay
Media displays wealth and misogyny
50 million dollar chains  
Females addicted to being slapped around
Like China Dolls in half-made    Cl    o   thes
Pose, Shawty and let this crunk beat fill your hips
Purse your lips, Mami, and I’ll let you
Be my accessory
Remember when the revolution was a evolution of the mind
Freestyles match drums in intensity
When freestyles were uncontrolled like the wild brown skin he was in
I felt, loved, Hip-hop in my veins
Let him be the catalyst  for the beating of my heart
I was so in love with his swagger, his love of himself and his people
Hat tipped real       low      to hide the pain

Beat real tight to stop the taint
Of failure and to rise like the dust after a stampede
I’d take Hip-Hop to bed every night
Let him rise and fall like the heaving of my chest
It was so hot I could barely breathe for the intensity overcoming me
The pounding of intellect in my throat
Stroked me from head to toe
And Rocked my ghetto loving soul
And he said things I’ve waited my whole life to hear
play sweetly in my ear
Dreaming of dreams too big
To let fade away
He grew shallow, loving women with hollow heads and thick thighs
Low rides and forgetting what he left at home
Long nights and overtime left me alone
Released hundreds of  artists
Torn between money and the spoken word
His best friends tried to revive what was inside, too late the damage took over
50 Cent arrived with Lil’s, and Young’s and a mess of southern heat
I was there when the light left his eyes
After Dr.Dre’s Chronic
Hip-Hop was Dead 


Details | Personification |

Lyrics

	The unwritten lyrics swarm in my head like a hornets nest, the studio is silent. The microphone taunts me in it's little square box, but it waits for a time when we can talk in private. 

	I hear the instrumental get louder from the twist of a knob. The song wrote its self as my head starts to bob. I cram into the booth and close the door with confidence. That I will come out feeling new and get praised with compliments. 
	
	I get loud with excitement and shake hands with my buddies. Hope that I can continue this hobby, but we see no money. 

	I made music for years not thinking what my future entailed. All my friends will understand when its time to set sail. 
		
	We have low quality equipment and no food for our stomachs. We grow into men and instead of friends, we are now distant cousins.


Details | Personification |

Music Child

I hear the music calling me
From the smooth and shiny rows of keys
The ebony and ivory
And all the melodies between
‘Come!’ it says, ‘And play a song
Upon your fingertips I’ll canter along.
Befriend the scales—arpeggios
Follow the tune wherever it goes
Let your heart become the notes
Let your soul become the pitch
Let your life become the piece
Together we shall play.’

I hear the music calling me
From brazen gold and silver strings
Between burnished frets I have seen
The beginnings of a reverie
‘Come!’ it says ‘And pick a poesy,
Fast and furious, young and rosy.
Strum my chords, tickled with rhythm
Call and coax the magic within them
Let your mind roam free and far
Let your voice capture the stars
Let your soul be one with mine
Together we shall play.’

I hear the music calling me
From silver, circular woodwind keys
The trilled and tranquil fairy fifes
Will slice the silence like a knife
‘Come!’ it says, ‘And toot a tune
And learn the lore of lustrous flutes.
Dance upon the bars and staffs
Our mystery within your grasp
Know the sharps, the flats, crescendos
Staccatos and diminuendos
Since your birth you’ve known it’s so
This is knowledge you should know
Lay your life upon these keys
Tune your heart to match my beat
Sing and dance your destiny
Together we shall play.’


Details | Personification |

Treasure of My Heart

Yamaha impressed me the first time I laid eyes on her glistening blond maple wood, her stylish body details, her long fretted mother-of-pearl inlay; lobed with golden keys. Her voice called to me the first time I held her in my arms. I strummed her six strings slowly in the key of G, then moved softly to D and C. All the while, I searched earnestly for her purity in sound quality and style. She was not the most beautiful in the showroom. But oh yes! She did flatter me with her musical presence. She was beautiful to me! I knew from that moment on she would be mine for eternity. 

Within the hour, I took her home to meet the family. She was shy on the journey, not making a sound; perhaps due to this being her first automobile ride or simply wanting to see a world she was now a part of. Yamaha was cased in alligator leather, a brown dressing which was stylish for the day. We were both nervous as we arrived and got out of the car. My strong caressing grip on her handle assured her she wouldn’t fall and it would be alright. She knew it would be alright as I smiled at her. 

I opened the door, allowing her to enter first. When in the living room, I called to everyone to come meet the newest member of the family. Dad was taken by her simple yet elegant beauty and style. Mom touched her first and she was most pleased. At that moment I realized the importance of first impressions as Mom marveled at how pretty she was. I sat down in the best chair in the living room while Mom listed to Yamaha talk and I sang a popular country love song.  I was pleased with the family acquaintance to Yamaha. It was evident she had become a part of the family.

 The first few weeks, I couldn’t keep Yamaha out of my arms. I longed to be with her every minute of the day. In my eye, she made me smile by just gazing upon her. I fumbled with her in those beginning days. She ignored my elementary attempts at refinery and permitted me the time to catch up to her mastery rather than bow down to my level. Like any two lovers, both must reach to the need of the other. Only then is love truly in harmony. 

Today, Yamaha is not the young glistening blond I held in my arms some thirty years removed. Her wood has been scared by my love to play her. She has received countless face lifts which cover her tainted mother-of-pearl. Her brown leather case dress stands in need of a seamstress care. But as with all things having been learned through love, we now make beautiful music together. She is my treasure, a light into my soul's well. She amplifies my inner being. As I perform, she is glorified. We have grown old together,and gotten better in time. I still hold her in my arms day by day as this lover has risen to her grace and expectations. She is my treasure for a life time.


Details | Personification |

At the Pawn Shop

I met her  in a pawn shop on a warm summer night
When running from the rubble of  my shattered life
To sell a broken dream that would never come true
An engagement ring to pay for the rent that was due

There she lay sleeping in a battered rosewood bed
Heart strings breaking in a rusty sea of velvet red
So hauntingly beautiful, she took my breath away
Violin - an old reject who would change my life that day

So I bought Violin and lived out on the street
And played Rhapsody in Blue as coins fell at my feet
And soon we had a  little flat high above the Bay
And every day, I got better with every note I played

Today I am a maestro playing Carnegie Hall
My name in lights blinking on a Marquee Wall 
For it was I who saw myself in Violin
A tarnished soul and the beauty buried there within


Details | Personification |

Drawn in Harmony

The phrase "Music to my ears" has been injected toward the 
wrong part of my body, and most unpleasantly personified. 
There is a record player that I let skip and scratch on purpose, hearing 
colorful sound of life back when truth kept us both inside the lines. 
I thought order was helping me draw closer to you, while you began on the next 
page without me. The needle digs it's way into my ape-shaped forearm. 
I'm directed by the guitar string shaped veins 
that only play notes in the keys of D# E# A# F# and the sharp sounds pierce 
my perception to the point I can hardly hear your voice anymore. 

At times, listening to the same old sad song on repeat makes me think
that I am just an old soul getting repeatedly tossed around in God's 
big barrel of human paradox. "Lord what was I made for? Surely it wasn't 
to repeat the mistakes of my forefathers, because I'm certain I am the 
only one you molded with forearms so large, that the record got lost 
and forgot how to spin in circles. Music is all about art, and art all about 
perception. Perception has nothing to do with your eyesight, and 
you use your ears to envision the painting on a blank canvas before picking 
anything else up but sound waves. I drive myself crazy sometimes when 
I think that my inspiration is speeding away from me in the 
opposite lane, but I didn't even ask for directions. Mostly because I'm a man, 
a stubborn one at that, and I always think I know where I'm going. 
But this time, I swear I had gotten the map right. So I transformed my open 
hands into tight fists to make music burst out of my arms, and the needle went 
faster and faster until it broke off, and the high pitched vibration 
disintegrated the steel into my own blood. I blame myself for letting this 
be the first time to let myself draw some air into my body. A surgery of 
scalpels cutting into my physical, and an orchestral symphony of sutures, 
threading my life back together again. My blue blood turns crimson as it kisses the air. 
Why do we associate the color red with life and vibrancy, when it clearly shows that we are letting our own blood run down our arms? Why do so many women where red lipstick; the kind that sticks to your collar, screaming to your wife that you clearly sinned? 
Why do we see sin so clearly; transparent enough for others to correct us before we really we even grasp the desire to fix ourselves? AND WHY IN THE WORLD IS THIS MUSIC PLAYING SO LOUDLY NOW; when my needle broke off into my body a long time ago, and I can hardly hear you anymore.
Good thing my life's song still isn't completely written yet. Let's add a more positive climax to this. One drawn in harmony.


Details | Personification |

Elvina, the elusive slyph

this poem is dedicated to Elvina Kuchukova

thy power over wood and water lead me to springs untainted thy music is a bath for the mind thy art is a balm for the eyes oh Elvina you elusive slyph, where shall we meet next? Elvina i long to see your face again with thy hair black as midnight flowing like a river thy face angles like an elf with patience to match thy gentel words show thou troubles and scars yet to my eyes they beauty is everlasting Elvina i thank you thy skin is scarred with lines of flame the burning knife that scarred your skin is no deterent to me for i know the troubles other cause you strength has saved me from the burning knife for this Elvina i thank you you have saved me from myself for this Elvina i thank you may we meet again


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