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Couplet Music Poems | Couplet Poems About Music

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

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Details | Couplet | |

We Danced Through Life


We danced amongst the stars that night
when joy had fallen far from sight 

We danced under the sun so bright
And when all seemed lost, we held on tight

We danced to the music of hummingbirds
And we danced in the silence when there were no words.

We danced in the shadows of fear and doubt
And we danced when we questioned what life’s about

We danced amongst the evergreens
That posed for painters winter scenes.

We danced in the winters bitter chill
And when we danced our world stood still.

For that’s what love was meant to be
To find the dance when we cannot see.

To write a new song when the music stops
With lyrics that caress every tear that drops.

For when the rhythm changes and tempo slowed
We’re called to dance with the seeds we sowed.

For life is hard, there is no doubt
But Dancing through it, is what life’s about.


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Forgotten Valentine

An old house I am led to -it is the symbol of Memories in cobwebs - like those of old lost love. A storehouse for so many things buried in my mind. I open up its creaking door to see what I might find. Lovely notes of music come wafting down its stairs So poignant is its melody that my poor heart tears. It brings to me the image of one afternoon When I walked with someone in summer by the dune. I listen to the tickling of the ivory Picturing two people splashing each other by the sea. The music now is drifting to me soft and low. I see the setting sun. We’re bathed in crimson glow. Beautifully and slowly the notes keep being played. In the arms of my old Valentine rhythmically I’m swayed. The keys of the piano now are pounding fast. In the moonlight he and I are making love at last. Finally the keys are played as if they were caressed. And a bitter sweetness swells within my breast. Slowly creeping up the stairs I go to learn the truth. Who has played this long-time buried memory of youth? On the old piano’s bench, I see an imprint lies, And I think I can hear my phantom lover’s sighs. Forgotten valentine, will you please return And play again that melody of love for which I yearn? For the Incurable Romantic Poetry Contest of Kim Morrison


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Christmas Eve of Old

In harmony that the angels hear
Sweet music of a Midnight Clear
With reverent voices, in joyful mode
A sacred song of long ago
A velvet night while stars appear
Old carols sung on captured ear
Around a piano, where candles glow
Outside the air, with breath of snow
A fireside, where flames enchant
Old memories, from lips recant
'Neath mistletoe, two lovers kiss
A soul renewed, a spirit lifts
Some lift their glass to make a toast
While others sing of Heavenly Host
Beneath a tree, the children guess
Then off to bed, with kisses blessed
In harmony that the angels hear
Sweet music about a Midnight Clear


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The Pub II

Inside pub steins stout magic spoke
‘neath genie wisps of bangle smoke
Brown cone cigars, deep chubby pipes
Aromatic spills to breach the night.
Music calls to muted songs 
Rough knuckles echo Bodhrán drums.
Flute, melodeon, bouzouki*, mandolin
Penny whistles, uilleann pipes, one feisty violin.
Pied piper rhythms, pied piper beats
Bold Celtic persuasions to move proud legs and feet. 

To Daver and friendship, thank you!

* Bouzouki...A stringed instrument that could stand up to the volume and intensity of fiddles, flutes, accordions, and pipes.
*uilleann pipes...Irish bagpipes...melodeon. an Irish accordian


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American Idol

Hearing talented young voices provides such pleasure
In our quest for America’s latest idol treasure

Next year the judging panel will not be the same
The man we love to hate will leave for bigger game

What will it be like without the infamous scowl
Of the Brit who tells it like it is --  Simon Cowell

“That was simply dreadful,” says he with a wry smirk
“You came off karaoke; it just didn’t work.”

Randy asks, "Yo, Dog, what's with the off-key pitches?" 
Ellen’s there for laughs; she leaves us in stitches

Kara strokes her long, brown hair, bats her lashes too
Asks Casey to remove his shirt, flirts as he follows through

But Simon never offers consolation prizes
Contestants' egos crash down as their anger rises

If he tells Big Mike he sounds karaoke
We may find Simon adrift in the Okefenokee

Choosing a replacement will surely not be easy
Adam Lambert? Paula's return? Oh, it makes us queasy

Simon will be missed, the show will suffer ratings
Viewers may depart for loss of the man they’re hating


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If I Were To Work a Miracle

If I were to work a miracle I know what it would be
In selfish quest I'd ask to grow in someone's company

Then we could prosper sharing precious moments in life
If I could have the same children, I'd pray she would be my wife

I would treasure the ground she walks on, in joyous harmony
For before I requested this miracle, she opened my eyes to see

Many things we share, architecture and music are two
There's history and geography, she says binds me and you

But it's the music that cements us, especially with Queen
If I were to work a miracle, then this would be my dream





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UNWANTED VIOLIN SOLO

UNWANTED   VIOLIN   SOLO  



She  wrested notes from unwilling
And resisting rosined string. 
The rhythm struggled to assert control
Over her strained and anxious soul.


Mother shushed her resisting offspring,
Father struggled with his watch’s mainspring.
Children twisted hair and faces :
All wished to be in other places.


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Coming Back

Synopsis: The events in this poem never actually happened. I wrote this in a metaphor to 
express what was going on at the time.

The stage lights up,
The curtains rise.
I raise my head,
And look in your eyes.

Sounds come through,
The music plays.
This song's for you,
You're in a daze.

The crowd is vast,
The fans are crazed.
You're leaving fast,
You looked amazed...

I keep on singing,
I don't understand.
Your ears are ringing,
I look at the band.

They're still playing,
I walk off stage,
Drop the mic,
And disengage.

I'm running for you,
And you look back,
You keep walking, 
It feels like a smack.

I know you don't like it,
When i leave,
Pick up the mic,
And make you grieve.

There isn't much time,
At all anymore,
To see you be mine.
The music took o'er.

You couldn't take it,
Thats why you left.
Our anniversary,
I know I missed.

I know you planned,
And I ignored.
Now I'm banned,
From entering your door.

I finally catch up,
Tell you I'm sorry.
You give me a hug,
That night so starry.

I left the band,
We both kissed again.
I hope you understand,
I loved you more then.




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I Would Write a Song {resubmit}

So much of my life I spent doing wrong
If I could write music I would write a song

I have done things a man shouldn't do
These words are written for they are true

If you open your heart and look to the sky
Ask of the Lord then hear the reply

It won't come in words not words you can hear
It may come with a smile or fall as a tear

I found an angel said bye to my ghost
After I lost everything I gained the most

I found the Lord through the poems I pray
Sometimes it’s best to just give it away

I write out my words for they help me see
Simple is best for simple is free

Think of yourself just never think down
Your mind holds the music just listen to the sound

Everyone you meet has something to say
Be sure to include them in the prayers that you pray

All that you do and all that you see
Shares in your story and your destiny

When dealing with others do what you do
Just be kind and gentle to those you do it to

Everything is nothing that it shouldn't be
As a seconds a second and a tree is a tree


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Les Miserables

Les Miserables

Jean Valjean was a bad convict
With Javert he had a conflict

For nineteen years the con went to jail
When his plan to steal bread was a fail

When he got out, he was ignored
He was by the people abhorred

A bishop welcomed him with open arms
Unaware of the con's great harms

Some precious silver was stolen
But it made the bishop solemn

But finally the con became good
And became the mayor of towns he would


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Mozart

   Music is life and life is the muse
she leads us shows us how to fuse
happiness in every realm
just put music at the helm

  throw aside those traps and reins
come with me and ease your pains
you think too much come  have some fun
hold out your arms,let music come

  you can't hold her ,force her ,mold her
you can't ever even scold her
she is with you or she's not
you have no choice
it's just your lot.

  so give it up and let it lie
come with me and touch the sky
and when we touch back on the ground
the staff will fill
we'll write it down.


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Living Legend

  After I left you alone in the firelight
I wondered if ever I'd see you again
the day of departure loomed on my horizon
the last time I'd ever have time with my friend,
nobody told you to pack allyour heartstrings
to turn off the future you planned in your head,
nobody warned you of incoming missles
imploding within ,turning everything red.

you sit there in silence to gaze at the embers
humming a tune a piano once played
out on a stage surrounded by angels
oblivious maestro ,you ebb and you fade.
but I see that moment you triumphed in Paris,
white doves all released to welcome the one,
who soared on the notes of ultimate beauty
who carried us up to the fire of the sun.

Dear Phoenix I know you must die in your ashes
before your rebirth can ever take place,
but there in the fireglow I still see the flashes
of genius alive in the light of .your face


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Beethoven's Lost Composition

"It happened at dusk, on the eve of my bed
a series of symphonies out of my head
Whistles and pattering, octaves outstretched
Violins wailing and tubas distressed
Starlight shone into my window in white
heaving my breath with this musical sight
leaving my features and shadows in grey
while the melody mastery started to play
First all the strings, then came the percussion
Brass building stamina, with no discussion
Drums most determined and then all at once
the notes of the piano, fortissimo jaunt
Lights popped and fizzled and wrinkled in time
Walls bending backwards a musical rhyme
Bass like a heart beat moving the air
all in the blink of an eye, I was there.
My skin soaked and battered, my eyes shining bright
all concentrating on motion, on flight
After they slowed I beamed with devotion
and stood on my tiptoes, a standing ovation
I've packed solidarity into my chest
to tell you this story, to truly impress
for it happened at dusk on the eve of my bed
a series of symphonies out of my head"


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for T-Bell

  Knowing her song

still she won't sing it,

her bag's full of notes,

and still she won't bring it,

with veins full of music

she floats on a tune,

she soars on concertos

far over the moon,

I beg and cajole but I'm

just not her Mother,

she won't shed a note

it seems for another,

we're playing piano

on notes  on a page 

waiting for morning 

when she  can asuage,

all of the grief that she finds

on the keys,

see how the muses 

are down on their knees

whispering hope into

lyrics she hears

sonatas that shimmer

away on her tears.




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George Sand

  Chopin my darling,
your brow is so warm
come off to my island
you'll come to no harm

  I'll hold you and keep you
and guard you most dear
protect you from all
of the things that you fear

   you haven't the power
the strength nor the way
to care for yourself
and to write and to play

  come off to my island
leave all else behind
your music will prosper
as well as your mind

  I'll lock you away where
your genius will thrive
I'll give you my heart
and I'll keep you alive!


Details | Couplet | |

Silence not just opposite of voice

Silence not just opposite of voice
More of ear turning deaf to outside noise 
 
Close ears to outside din
And hear subtle murmur within

Listen Heart beats in rhythm and rhyme
No music composer can beat the music divine  

Listening same beats for sometime
Makes one slip in meditation anytime

One drops BODY then MIND falls 
Weightless, thoughtless Light one feels   

Slip one may in trance 
Levitation one may experience 

Eternal Bliss engulfing
As if in Heaven surfing

Longevity of blissful state, on practice depends
Veteran or amateur, sooner or later it ends

Silence ruptures, clamour overtakes whisper 
Bliss vanishes, pang emerges

One day sound fails to impact hearing sense
That is when one is laid into permanent Silence 

Silence of graveyard not just opposite of cry in maternity ward 
More of listening to death than speaking of life as trump card 

Silence not just opposite of voice
More of dropping body dead, aligning life suiting soul's choice  

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
© Hitendra Mehta  
For Poetry Soup Contest 
April 2011


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Homage to Bon Jovi

Homage to Bon Jovi
	
I’m going out in a “Blaze of Glory”
So “Bang A Drum” as I tell my story

With “One Light Burning” “I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead”
“Chained” to the “Right Side of Wrong” in my head.

“Shot Through The Heart”, “You Really Got Me Now”...
Your “Bad Medicine” destroyed me—somehow.

“Dead Or Alive” don’t “Lay Your Hands On Me”!
“The Boys Are Back In Town”--I’m not lonely!

“Dying Ain’t Much of A Living”…you’re right
Too late found “Good Guys Don’t Always Wear White”!

So, “Billy Get Your Guns” and “Raise Your Hands”…
There’s “Justice In The Barrel” of time’s sands.

“I’ll Be There For You” and your “Cold Hard Heart”.
“You Give Love A Bad Name”--Feel "Lucky"? Start!

deborah burch
07/12/2012

Titles in quotes are songs by Jon Bon Jovi 


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Blood Brother

Music needs lyrics to make it whole
Lyrics are words that touch the soul
Listening to one song after another
Springsteen singing "My Blood Brother"
It tells a story of of childhood friends
A genuine love that never ends
Growing up and parting ways
Changes coming in passing days
And it takes me back to the things we did
The friends I had when I was just a kid
Although time has pulled us all apart
I still carry each one in my heart


But the stars are burnin' bright like some mystery uncovered
I'll keep movin' through the dark with you in my heart
My blood brother--Bruce Springsteen


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No Minors Allowed - Chris Changed the Rules

Las Vegas - Nineteen eighty six I heard it was the city of the tricks A great hotel, all-you-can-eat buffet Our car was parked by the sexiest valet The show already started, the lights dim I - a Kangaroo with sleeping baby on my limb The music started, "one mile" legs and feathers An atmosphere of Cabaret with tens of Heathers The music stopped, men lowered their defenses Of topless dancers - awakened all their senses As glittered bubbles shined on all the misses " Look, Mommy, lots and lots of tzee-tzees !"
for Miranda's Contest " Burlesque Boutique"


Details | Couplet | |

Melodies of Life

As we live each day trying to find out about life	
Questioning the misery and all the pain and strife
"Pilgrim on your journey you may travel far
Pilgrim it's a long way to find out who you are"
Sometimes it's hard to stay on the right track
You begin to believe you'll never get back
"All God's children get weary when they roam	
Don't it make you want to go home"
"Every day seems a little longer 
Every day love's a little stronger"
Now you pray That love will last forever
While Johnny Mathis sings about the "Twelfth of Never"
Now you've found the woman of your dreams
And all of the world is right it seems
She said that She will always be mine
"She's in love with me and I feel fine."


"Pilgrim" by Enya
"Don't It Make You Want to go Home" by Joe South
"Every Day" by Buddy Holly
"The Twelfth of Never" by Johnny Mathis
"I Feel Fine" by The Beatles


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Never say Never

For years and years having viewed their faces Their smiles, their joys, in so many places Oh how I wondered if I would mirror those joys To forget my past, and it's lonesome destroy We are told never say never in this world we live Sometimes around life's corner, shall end ones sieve How right these words would be, such wisdom prevails Never say never, let life's winds grace ones sails <*> Then came the day as I so wondered why That a Spanish maiden liked, I clicked to espy Images of Marillion, the singer Fish being his name As I viewed musical others, we liked just the same In a polite message I wrote, simply to ask why Will she answer me I asked, I'll just have to try A reply I received, declaring reciprocating sounds For our music was mirrored, now something abounds <*> Then came the moment that simply captured my heart Her first word was hello, could a dead life restart Our visions appeared followed by questions of ask Two strangers in meet musical tastes being our tasks Days weeks into months followed amidst track after track So much was told and shared, her knowledge never lacked Now when I look back to our music moments shared and seen Fish and others we thank you, for it's the music of Queen <*>


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Micaela II


You're Still The Most Beautiful song,

That I've Ever Written


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In Ballerina Stance

Amidst a cacophony of sounds, discordant they're not Through progressive ears we're internally sought We, well we await, we await black drapes Lights are our signal, to enjoy their create Strobes through mists, signal our time Silhouetted shadows appear, it's now just after nine In Ballerina stance, proud like she poses Arms outstretched like petals of roses She, Kim, of Touchstone effect Through their music her voice, such melodic select Prelude now generates as we await corded streams Receivers we are, appreciating their musical dreams Spotlights in sporodic dance, like silent sirens in the dark In seconds they soon touch, we the Blacktide no longer stark On this night in concert, we became one and all Strobe lights show their appreciation, bowing when shadows fall http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/touchstone.php


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Coffee, Beatle Style, With Michael

‘Good day, Sunshine!’... ‘I call your name’, and here you are!
Michael, so wonderful to finally meet you on this ‘magical mystery tour!’….

‘I traveled the long and winding road’ and came to this conclusion
A coffee chat with Michael F, could become a poetry ‘revolution’

They tell me “let it be”…and 'wait', ’that all you need is love’….
But after ‘a hard day’s night’….and 'a little help from my friend' above

I even said 'Please Mr. Postman'..., I’ve ‘got to get him into my life’
‘I wanna hold your hand', Michael, but what about Rosanna, your wife??

That might be ‘too much monkey business’, so I'd better 'act naturally'
‘Wanna know a secret’, Michael?  You really ‘got a hold on me’!!!



By Carrie
Another Beatle Fan!! 


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The Music of My Soul: The Early Years

Mom bought records of the classic Disney films; each song
was played again and then again; we all sang along.

Mad Hatter singing he was late, Snow White singing too, 
and seven whistling dwarves kept us from feeling blue.

Yes, those were our “Wonder Years” with my family.
Also we watched musicals as re-runs on TV.

Fiddler on the Roof ; The Sound of Music - pure delight!
West Side Story thrilled me with “Maria” and “Tonight.”

I began collecting records; my first idol’s name
was Herman.  With his Hermits, he enjoyed brief fame.

Older kids were listening to whatever gave a shock:
Dylan, Hendrix, Joplin, Stones, or psychedelic rock.

I preferred the “bubblegum” - Grass Roots, Tommy Roe,
and all the Top Forty Hits on my radio. 

Also there were songs of novelty, a different sort,
“A Boy Named Sue” and that “Tie Me Kangaroo Down Sport!”

Some songs linger with nostalgia: gems like “Close to You”
or “Johnny Angel.” Those recall special boys I knew.

In the 1970’s, it was clear I was
A fan of pop rock music, simply just because!

I love songs with beat that make me want to sing or dance,
but sometimes I’m inclined to hear soft songs of romance!

Though I'm busy now with many other things, I strive
to hear what’s new on TV music shows or when I drive.

But what’s the music of my soul? In all honesty,
I must say my early years most affected me!


For "Soul Tunes" Contest by Kristen Bruni


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Song

I wrote a little poem that went toot toot toot.
With every second line do-op do-op.
It started with a scale that went doe ray me.
and had a tiny chorus of tick tick tock.

I added tiny rests that went sigh sigh sigh.
I balanced them with sounds that went ring ring ring.
Now half the words were higher and half were low.
Until they reached the end and went ping ping ping.

I gave it to a man who played with instruments.
Who said he was the best and the king king king.
He wasn't very good when he started to play.
Until he opened up his mouth to sing sing sing.

And that is how I invented the song song song.
I hope I haven't bored and strung you along long long.


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Compositions

He struck a chord of measure with admiration, thump
With caresses of tomorrow’s wishes so silent, yet so trump
Hear the weeping violins that sway and gather sighs   
Posturing the polished voices of the moon’s rise 
Melancholy calling under a whistling breeze
Rapture, the winding wind dancing through the trees
Held together tender as birds in courtship of flight 
“Oh sing now sing” how contrite
Tides of crimson kisses roar with the sea
As you beat the drums of my mellifluous harmony
Wait, discover and then receive the sounds of our reprise  
Complacent lovers glance into each other’s eyes 
 


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Simon's Musical Legacy

“Hello darkness, my old friend”
Your song fills my head again

I can’t escape Paul Simon
Words lift me like a sermon

I travel with him to Graceland
Years are “slip-sliding away”

Years pass, he says we’re crazy
Wasted youth; I was lazy

We rise to “Kodachrome” hues
As Paul sings of joy and blues

Gave me “50 ways to leave”
A false man who tried to deceive 

“Sounds of Silence” fill my day
Till Simon’s songs come my way

To touch my heart, restore hope
Through troubled times, I can cope

“Bridge over Troubled Water”
Help your sister and brother



*Entry for Michael’s “What Songwriters Inspire You” contest
Inspired by songwriter Paul Simon
Written June 21, 2012


Details | Couplet | |

A Daydream

Blinded but not broken I play for you.
I see with my heart a tune that is true.

My fingers will dance upon the smooth ivory.
Make love to my soul while I compose a melody.

True love I can see in keys colored cream.
As I sit anticipating your love in my daydream.

I will no longer feel this loneliness linger.
As I caress the music with the tip of my finger.

We will slow dance as mystic lovers do,
when I play my entrancing music for you.

True love you are closer than you seem,
when I look for you in my deepest daydream.


04-28-2014
For contest: A Day Dream
Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbest


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In and Out of Tune

I sing my song slightly off key.
That's why no one, stands beside me

You may wonder why I'm upset.
I had hoped to sing a duet.

Maybe singing is not for me.
I will stick with my poetry.

The words I write can harmonize.
If they are sung by other guys.

Vocal talent I don't possess.
But with my words I can caress.

So I will let you sing my tune.
Better voices are made to croon.


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What makes me tick serens contest

What makes me tick?

You ask me the question on what makes me tick
Well this I will answer, and answer it quick

Flowers and trees, the birds and the beasts
And all of the beauty on which my eyes feast.

Rivers and lakes, and oceans as well
And all of the dreams in which I do dwell

Music and poetry, Astrology too
And all of the wonderful things that I do.

These things keep me breathing and loving my life
And last but not least is my beautiful wife.

10 September 2013 @ 1353hrs.


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Soul Music

Closing my eyes and filling my soul
Music plays a major role

It's deeply embedded into me
As I become my reverie

The notes waft in,stress does abate
I'm filled with love and peace,not hate

Notes tumble out,joy enters in
The music reveals the calm within


Written by Deb Wilson
for contest "Music And Meditation"
sponsored by Dr. Ram Mehta


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It's Time I was Moving On

Sad news today, February 6th in our year 2011
To "The Great Gig in the Sky" sell out in Heaven

My favourite blues rock guitarist, Mr Irish Gary Moore
Joins the "Midnight Blues, "Too Tired" no more will he tour

At fourteen years of age he received his first guitar
Like many budding rockers aspirations to be a rock star

The Beatles, Elvis Presley and the amazing Albert King
Heavily influenced this left hander, who made his right hand sing

As he grew past his teens, the genre he'd enter would mean
The likes of John Mayall's Bluesbreakers and Hendrix, now he's seen

Blues Rock it was to be, when Peter Green caught his ear
If you grew up with this maestro, you'll know his career

It started way back, way back in 1969
Skid Row, from Dublin he joined, as the music industry would find

This is where his association began, with Lynott, bassist extraordinaire
Many nights sharing the blues, this two Irishmen would share

His solo career just grew and grew, then into Thin Lizzy he would blend
Sharing the Black Rose stage with Phil his Irish friend

The blues became his life, with two Albert's who'd share his stage
Guesting with his 'Midnight Blues Band' many a jam they would engage

I now close my humble tribute, for he'll always be in my heart
On this day in Estepona, Spain, my hero in final depart












http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/music-5.php


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Fond Memories

It does my heart good thinking of childhood memories
When the only thing that was important were families.
Friends made at a young age have now become old friends.
But the family bonds that were made will never end.

With five brothers, a sister and very colorful parents
We had the ability to stand proud despite our appearance.
We lived south of town, many referred to as the boondocks
Our clothes came from catalogs and never store bought.

Father played guitar and harmonica, quite the music man
Every weekend at our home was gathered a different band.
My love for music came honestly from my dearest Dad
I would fill in playing instruments when no one else was to be had.  

Mother had a heart of gold and people all around knew
If you walked in she'd ask, "Would you like a drink or some stew?"
Hobos from the train tracks would wonder to our doorstep
Knowing they'd be fed with hopes my father wouldn't catch.

Exciting were my summers spent with my Grandmother
She chose to take only me and never the others.
Her Irish ways and stern body of healthy stature
Made her a hard soul to understand but I so loved her.

Most of the friends of my parents had many children also
It was a pleasure to see them as they come and go. 
My siblings were the only companions with which to play
So when company came over always one child would stay.

The Ohio River had many wondrous things to offer as a child
We would swim, fish or skip stones and then stop for awhile.
All gathered to drink Kool-Aid and eat sandwiches Mom made
Then back to the water and later begging to see who stayed.

Christmas holiday was especially joyous at our home
My parents would scurry to hide toys so not one was shown.
The many toys left by Santa underneath a fresh cut tree
All these warm memories of family are very special to me.


Note: For "Heart's Warmth" contest


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Mood music


Mood makes us dance to its tune,
Be ready to face its swings.

Changing mood has more seasons,
Some you appreciate and rest others do.

Coming out of your horn its various hues,
make up for the most and endure the worst.

Every pouter too has a chirpy self,
Smallest spark is enough to raise a flame.

Beautiful opiate creates crescendo in symphony,
I love to dance to the mood music !

You entered my life as a magician and a musician,
Come coruscate my life through my mood !!






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Excuse Me, Jimi

Excuse me while I kiss the sky
Seeking answers – why’d Jimi die?

Perhaps it was the Burning of the Midnight Lamp
Hey Joe!  Don’t know? Revisit his amp

Purple Haze shrouded by mystery
Woodstock legend resounds in history

Vietnam veteran’s soulful, haunting cry
Excuse me while I kiss this guy



* Written for Raul's Jimi Hendrix challenge


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Moonlight Melodies

Melancholy notes drift through the breeze
Suspending every breath they seize
Stealing every broken wish and hidden sorrow
Embracing the gaze of one who will never see tomorrow
Holding captive every sob and tear
Unrequited love and heartbreak it holds near
The emotion of a funeral in every chord
Each a final prayer to their lord
Memories of times past 
Thoughts of how the good times never last
Unrealized hopes and dreams
A fake smile and everything that isn't as it seems
Pure life entwined with every line 
Grief and loss, a distant "I'll be fine"
The harmony enveloping every dull ache
Deep regret that's hard to shake
The symphony is of these emotions and lost chances
Alongside the midnight moonlight, this broken melody dances


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Another Recording of If

In the entertainment field, I have a familiar face. In movies and TV, I have been all over the place. There are some memorable parts that I can call my own. A doll named “Talky Tina” tripped me down the stairs in “The Twilight Zone” I have been an actor for quite a few years back. Most folks know me best as television’s “Kojak”. Mr. David Gates has written a pretty song. He and his group called “Bread” could do no wrong. Their song went very high on Billboard’s charts. The beautiful melody and lyrics won some hearts. A lot of records have been sold by David Gates and Bread. Perhaps the public would like to hear something else instead. There’s another side of me most people don’t know. I think it would be good to enter a recording studio. I will do an oration with musicians and a chorus. I have a feeling what I do will be fabulous. If my recording gets some air time on the radio, I believe my rendition will have far to go. I got to perform my version on another television show. My record will be going places; I know.


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Misty Days

A fall from heaven and a slip of the tongue a hope to remember and a song to be sung always forever and not a moment to spare for sorrows and kindness hung in the air Through a broken haze, through a broken haze no longer sunny but better than most days can't recall a better time than that and the other best not to remember and better yet not to bother Only a tear drop or more can clear a foggy mind plenty to go around, too few to be kind Heavy like morning dew the kiss between me and you better to forget them, passing them out of view


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Music Fixes Me

Headphones on and humming softly till I know each word
Some are good old friends and some are new ones I just heard

Into the wee hours we go on with this love affair
Or first thing upon waking I will find it waiting there

I am in love with music and I know most every song
Listening to classic rock and singing loud and strong

There are times when blues will take me where I want to be
Close my eyes and let it take me drifting out to sea

Not much of a head-banger but still I like a few
Ballads soothe my savage beast and comfort me it's true

Feeling country I'll put on my Martina or Tim
They don't know but I sing  harmony with her and him

Oldies from the fifties make me float across the floor
Seventies and eighties gets me dancing even more

Never want to live without my music that's for sure
Whatever's ailing heart or mind,my music is the cure!


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The Dance

Illumination comes only
     From the far side of the room,
A faintest glint of yellow
     Amidst the blackness and the gloom.
No thoughts or feeling left
     Except anticipation so pure;
Let the music play—
          Whilst they stand now,
     Dance, they shall, soon.

His touch on her, a delicate caress
     Upon her skin;
Cradled, she is, gently
     Like a fragile figurine.
And as she lay her head upon 
          his chest,
     He held her close;
The circle closed by their embrace
     Became, to them, the world.

The first of many notes play on,
     A song from long ago,
A lullabye of broken promises
     And bitter loss;
So soft, and yet it scratched the scabs
     Of wounded memories,
And flared the pain of hurts
     She most not want to reminisce.

He raised her face, to his surprise,
     Tears welled from her eyes;
The most sincere and honest gesture
     In a place of feigns and lies.
Should he, could he comfort her?
     —no, she pushed away,
Mumbled an excuse, as if ashamed,
     And left in haste.
									
A mystery of life, up to this day,
     He can’t digress,
How he found admiration
          —attraction?—
     in that moment of her weakness.
Is it compassion? Is it pity?
     Is it love that’s doomed to fail?
‘Cause if it is, oh,
     the consequences it entails.

It’s closing time, last call for
     Goodnight kiss before they part;
Tomorrow comes to sell love
     To another’s waiting arms.
So in a day or two, what’s been today
     Won’t ever matter,
For when the music stops
     Then the dance is truly over.


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Pensive Blues

Pensive Blues Unwrapping a mellow chord Repeated words one affords Flowers awaiting new bloom Find Blue’s infusing the gloom Waiting upon stars falling Across the sky of wishing An arched conduit of light Opaque in harmony’s flight Catching each note expecting Lovers’ moon unquestioning Rhythm extinguishing flame Silencing slashes of pain Ember’s etching on the sky Kindled visions that now fly A wasteland alight once more Blazing with lyrical score Melody of words spoken Re-acquaint new love’s token Awash in the bluest “Blues” Dreaming of wishes come true By: Debra Squyres 2/26/13 Based on the Blues lyrics of Nora Jones: “Waiting”, “Turn Me On” “Come Away With Me” and “The Nearness of You”.


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OL'COUNTRY SOUNDS

OL'COUNTRY SOUNDS

My kind of music is those ol'country sounds.
Their words of life and those things all around.

The great music of Merle Haggard,George Jones.
Their very blusey voices and swaggard tones.

The beautiful Lorretta Lynn and Patsy Clyne.
Listening to their music with a glass of wine.

All the new music is full of soul.
But there's nothing like country Ol'.

Entered in Kristen Bruni"Soul tunes"contest.


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THINGS I WISH PEOPLE WOULD SAY TO ME

THINGS  I  WISH PEOPLE WOULD SAY  TO  ME



Just once for someone to say ‘you have a nice smile’
Instead of ‘what are you grinning at all the while’

Or  ‘you really were  clever to figure that problem out’
Instead of  ‘another lucky shot there, no doubt’. 

Tired of remarks about my coat being  ‘a detractor’,
Just once I  want to hear that it ‘has character’.

And my harmonica music referred t o as ‘damned whining’
Should be praised as  ‘such music has a silver lining’.

Till someone says these things to me,  I will continue awhile
To cleverly wear my coat, and play, and smile.


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A Night At The Opera

The buxom diva shattered chandeliers when she sang soprano.

Opera houses vibrated and thundered when she sang contralto!

When belting out an aria her voice quivered like Robin Hood's bow,

As she struggled through Mozart's ll re pastore blow by tedious blow!

His lady friend sat rapt but not her culturally impaired and hapless beau!

He'd much rather they'd spent the evening at the Grand Ol' Opry show!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved


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Soul Tunes:

The music that moves me is death core
Its the one genre of music in which I adore.

It moves my adrenaline and makes me feel alive
without it I wouldn't know how to survive.

I know it's different but I love it so.
I wish people wouldn't judge and give it a try ya know?

Music of speed and bass moves me.
And makes me feel loose and free.

I love to crank it up loud and dance around.
The music in itself produces a genuine sound.

I feel like it is my escape when things bare down.
when listening to it everything just seems to slowdown.







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Our Saviours's Band

We are marching in the Lord’s Parade, part of our Saviour’s Band.
We’re playing His soul music and it’s spreading ‘cross the land.

It’s rising up to Heaven, over seas and back again.
We are singing songs of glory, sweet salvation to attain.

Hear our happy voices singing.  Please don’t shut His music out.
You may join us. You are welcome to play tunes or sing and shout.

There are some who haven’t heard them, those sweet songs we love so well.
We are marching forth and singing the salvation words to tell.

Grab your music, be a drummer as we spread across the land.
We are marching in the Lord’s Parade, part of our Saviour’s Band.



wopn hm


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IN THAT LIFELESS TOWN

My footsteps once in motion, were quicker that a train
moving on shiny, steel tracks: there I whistled my refrain.

I moved to a lifeless town, where nothing ever happened;
people walking in a slower pace, my excitement tapered.


Noise kept me alive in a thriving suburb never sleeping;
cars honking, kids screaming, hot dogs trucks steaming. 


There up a treeless hill, my Honda struggled to reach its destination;
many evenings coming home late, dim lampposts caused trepidation.


Glad to have returned and live life as it is meant to be lived wearing a cowboy hat;
I sip my hot cappuccino in the small cafe' with friendly neighbors who love to chat.


If I ever went back to that lifeless town, deep depression would rise high;
silence will be more profound than a windless, dark forest...oh, I will cry!


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Just An Old Trumpet Player

JJust an old trumpet player with a worn out horn – Seems he had played it ever since he was born. Sometimes his lively music put dancing in your feet. Then there were times he rendered tones so tranquil and so sweet. So many came to follow this magic little man That soon he was known as the best in music land. He drew the best unto him and formed a little band And added perfect talent to the world of Dixieland. Sometimes he would sing a little verse or two And he would make it sound like it was just for you. He was known the whole world over - heaven watched him too And his music was so soulful it could sometimes make you blue. In his life we witnessed greatness only artists can provide And even heaven’s angels cried the day sweet Louis died. Some say even Gabriel didn’t know how to behave The day we put old ‘Satchmo’ in his grave. So, gentle trumpet man, may you always rest in peace We recall an instant, when you left us, all the music ceased. Written by John Posey 9/11/14


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Thrice-Time Tllings

Sweet angel bells caress the air
With tlling, tlling, tlling

Thrice they chime their gentle tllings
Then thrice again once more

With fluted softness, the tllinging brings
A chorale of soul-lights – Heaven sings

Thrice they sigh their gentle tllings
Then thrice just as before

And me? So sad? Such a sad, poor thing
Am soul-brushed - . tlling, tlling, tlling

Brought home to life, come home to love,
Throw wide my stained glass door

As hummingbirds, afloat mid-air
Still their rainbow wings

Astride the currents of the thrice-time tllings
Transformed beyond their core


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Sisters in Harmony

Beautiful music pouring from the soul
The music in front and the keys are below

Trying out melodies and harmonies alike
Playing piano untill the morning light

Two peas in a pod; a bond like no other
Tied together with music and love for each other

Our fingers caress the keys with a flourish
Our hunger for music is that which we nourish

But even if music should come to an end
I'm glad the piano has brought me a friend


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When words are Lost

I am trying to find the words to say,
The ones that dismantle feelings of dismay,
The ones that cut chords from youthless graves,
The ones your prophets said would save,
I am trying to get the courage to finally stand,
Still, and firm with might in my hands,
But the more I try the more I fail,
Surrendering is the only way to begin this tale,

Light overwhelms my darkest days,
As joy floods all bareness, I begin to sing your praise,
For the "I" in me is what needs to be set free,
You’re the one in control of my destiny,
Only selfless cries will bring about this change,
The wilderness is where all the brokenness,
Is rearranged.

I am trying to find the time to express,
All the anxiety’s that tug me into depressed,
I am trying to convey emotions from the heart,
Praying that when you hear them you won’t rip me apart,
For my whole life I’ve lived amongst sinking ships,
That it’s become second nature to constantly slip,
But I reach out my hand to the sunset this night,
And you greet me with words that allow my spirit to ignite,

Light overwhelms my darkest days,
As joy floods all bareness, I begin to sing your praise,
For the "I" in me is what needs to be set free,
You’re the one in control of my destiny,
Only selfless cries will bring about this change,
The wilderness is where all the brokenness,
Is rearranged.

So I’m slowing down and letting go,
Allowing the river to simply flow,
Slowing down, so all will see
That Gods mighty hand is the one saving me.

By: Sabina Nicole
6/10/12
Written in the key of C



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Music is my First Love

The concept of a top ten, is a wonderful choice
For Joe Flach's contest, your words become your voice
Typically for me, music comes first
Below are my ten, please read and rejoice

In alphabetical order, these ten you may have heard
If you know the tunes, please sing along to the words
If I ever win the lottery, I shall book the Carnegie Hall
And invite all the Soupers to sing and have a ball

AC/DC, from the album "Let There Be Rock"
"Whole Lotta Rosie" with whom Bon Scott defrocked

Black Sabbath, from the album of the same name
Black Sabbath being the track, tolling bells in the falling rain

Deep Purple, with "Made in Japan" from the year 1972
"Smoke on the Water" resonates, Montreaux through and through

Ferry, Bryan, a Geordie, "Another Time, Another Place"
"Smoke Gets In Your Eyes" his voice in wonderful grace

Mellencamp, John Cougar, awesome with "The Golden Jubilee"
"Hot Dogs And Hamburgers" taking an Indian girls liberty

Pink Floyd, with their always inspirational "The Dark Side Of the Moon"
"Time" simply out of this world, eventually where we all go soon

Queen, Rock's Royalty, Queen II is the album for me
"Father to Son" to my father, I have grown up to be like he

Rush, the Canadian three piece, "Moving Pictures" from Toronto they are
"Red Barchetta" of Italian design, a gorgeous sleek sports car

Thin Lizzy, with their 1978 "Live and Dangerous" tour
"Emerald" with Gorham and Robertson, twin guitarists so pure

UFO - with their classic "Strangers in the Night"
"Love To Love" what a ballad, the Rock bands just get them so right


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Magical Notes

This is my joy,my deep desire;
my imagination catches fire.

Turn the tunes up nice and loud
to chase away each darkening cloud.

Or sit and strum on my guitar;
a wondrous way to spend an hour!

Sometimes write new lyrics down
or blow my kazoo like a clown!

Singing along loud as can be;
this is happiness to me.

Listen to country,rock and blues;
so many genres from which to choose.

I love them all to some degree;
they sound so beautiful to me.

Several instruments I play
gets me jiving every day!

Without my music I couldn't thrive;
I dance around and feel alive!

How can some folks do without it?
Music's my life,no doubt about it!










for contest "What Turns You On"
sponsored by Frank H


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NO, ADELE'S SOLUTION IS NOT MINE

She's a pretty Pop Star with amazing and unique vocal cords...
why find a similar one after her heart has been broken into pieces?


No, Adele's solution is not mine! Do I need a quick-fix?
I'd rather forgive that foolish heart than remember another heartache! 


In past eras lovers were more realistic, patient and forgiving...
and they waited for their swethearts and loved them with a more intense feeling!


People constantly change by seeking someone more gorgeous...
love can be fickle and nobody seems to mind, but doesn't that lead to regrets?


Entered in Michael J. Falotico's contest,
" How To Fix A Broken Heart "



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Allopathy

is my new favorite word
it fits with eels, now you've heard.


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Sing Me a Song

Sing me a song to dry my tears,
One that chases away my fears.

Sing me a song when I am down,
That tells of the love that we have found.

Sing me a song both day and night,
That tells me everything’s alright.

Sing me a song, soft and low,
One that makes my heart to glow.

Sing me a song, loud and strong,
One that lasts two lifetimes long.

Sing me a song from far away,
One that says by me you’ll stay.

Sing me a song both near and dear,
That reassures me your still here.

Sing me a song to lift me high,
That helps my fingers touch the sky.

Sing me a song that’s tried and true,
One that says, I love you.

Please sing me all these songs and more,
Because life is knocking at the door.


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The Epitaph of an Unbeliever

Where would you like to be buried they asked
Well really that’s not my concern
It won’t bother me if I’m under a tree
Or stuck on a shelf in an urn 

Tell me what kind of a casket you’d like
Cardboard or wicker or oak
Put me in a sack for I won’t be back
Nobody laughed at my joke

Tell us what music you’d like us to play
By me it would never be heard
Not music said I at the end of the day
I would just like the song of a bird

Tell us what prayers should we pray for your soul
I tried hard to stifle my mirth
I don’t have a soul, just dig a big hole
And let me go back to the earth

I have seen what religion has done to the world
With it’s misery, murder and dread
I despised all religion for all of my life
Don’t force it on me when I’m dead

Don’t patronise me with a guy in a frock
With a mitre a cross and a crook 
Demanding that fools live by his kind of rules
That he reads from a dusty old book

Religion has not took control of my life
Or though this may sound a bit odd
I’ve been blessed with the love of a wonderful wife
And for that much at least I thank God


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Mad Russian Rhapsodies

  She was

 Reconciled to Rhapsodies

transfigured and transformed

recognizing some of these

as wildest wizards warned,

exquisitely transplanted,

a token from the North,

validity.....lucidity,

she let her Muse 

hold  forth.


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NP - SHE WAS KIDDING

(NP)   SHE WAS KIDDING


Its not offensive odors which bother me
That’s the province of my loving and ever-tolerant wife:  she
Whose nose can detect a shoeless sock 
Which has been worn for even a half hour on the clock,
Or me cooking sausages even before they start to smoulder,
Or if I ate onion three days ago.   No.  As I get older
It’s noise pollution which is my life’s bain,
Especially rock music which gives me pain, 
The guys with 600 watts in their car at the red light,
The punks on the corner sharing earpieces in the night,
And I can still hear it half a block away straight.
Obviously good music ended with Sergeant Pepper in 1968
But the worst of all the modern notions is (c)rap
“Music”. I mean who was it that told the guy in the baseball cap, 
The fat guy in sunglasses, that he could sing?
Was it his mother? Didn’t he know she was kidding?

……………………………………………………………………………………….


Entered in  Susan Burch’s Contest       Noise Pollution


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JANIS- Keep jamming in Heaven and raise the roof

I'm watching Janis Joplin on DVD tonight.
Man,  but she could sing the blues, even higher than a kite.

Her eyes look weak and heavy, but her voice is loud and strong.
No secret she was hooked on H, but still could wail a song!

She only wanted peace, and that to her was in the bar.
Singing out her message, but instead became a star.

A free spirit with a genius mind she used to ease the pain.
A talent with a heart too big to carry - caused a strain.

She was wise beyond her years, yet they focused on her past.
A memory she longed to shed, to prove them wrong at last.

Shunned again by her home town, was very hard to take.
Still, she was determined to stay true and not be fake.

The line that most defined her, how ironic, did betray.
"If it feels good do it."  Turned against her on that day.

No chemist checked the potency; Her dealer said beware.
Feeling good took cautions place, the needle her last prayer.


My personal tribute to Janis Joplin. To thine own self be true.


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Melody Captures

Passion renders from sinews of my heart
Rhythm breathes heavily upon my cheeks
And scent, as distinct as peppermint surrounds
To me is as visible as my left palm.
The lyrics prey upon my soul
Devouring my dignity
Consuming my pride.
I fight for resistance
But this only empowers conquer.
I am bound
Forever within ropes of enticement
Of the hypnotic.
To this ruler, reign is all possessed
But hold upon me loosens
And I awake softly from this trance of thrill.


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Ghazal-THE SPELL IN THE POTION

Incited by her Allure Sensuelle...
a vulnerable man is noticed by all.


Quite by nature, I rarely frequent clubs...
loud music turns me into a demon from hell.


She brought me so many Martinis on the Rocks...
I drank them too quickly and took a bad fall.


The spell in the potion must have acted too slowly...
I showed her respect, but she became too sensual.


Discovering the foul play, I was dismayed by her madnesss...
she left in a hurry and disappeared down the crowded hall.


Entered in Jared Pickett's contest, " The Ghazal "


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Again and Again

We love our lively violin
And play it again and again;
Both of lips will have to wet
Then clearly can play clarinet.

Sound of instruments with string
Down whole house will always bring;
People gather around us in a mass
So they can hear our beautiful brass.

Need long arms and be fully grown
Before we start playing slide trombone;
Saxophone can be played by either sex
For simple songs and those complex.

Play together and no one is an enemy
Ending up with a superb symphony
So many friends you must bring;
When we play, you can start to sing.

We will sing and play all night long;
Maybe might make up words for a song;
After at us you had taken a last peek
Will see symphony orchestra which is unique.

Jim Horn, Bolivia, NC


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Together They Went Far

Oh, little did she know,
Entering the talent show.

She would meet someone new,
With eyes so, deeply, blue.

When she approached the stage,
Her life turned a new page.

Yes, there her name would be,
Published for all to see.

The girl with big brown eyes,
Met a charming young guy.

As she sung very well,
Touched his heart like a spell.

Yes, it happened that day,
In an innocent way.

A sweet and tender voice,
Made an excellent choice.

Yes, as soon as he heard,
His smile endorsed his words.

And she became a star,
Together they went far.


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If All I Did Was Make You Feel Alive

I make you sing,I make you dance
and help you forgive circumstance.

When tired of body and of mind
I am the energy you find.

You'll know me when you hear a song
you haven't hummed for oh so long.

And when you work so very hard
just call me out into the yard.

If you are trying to win a heart
I shall step up and play my part.

I am called music and you'll see
I'm in your life to set you free!


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An Aura She Is

My eyes this evening are delighted by what they see
An aura, a Spanish maiden, dances in front of me

Flowing locks of darkened curls sway left to right
Towards me she moves in wonder on this Scottish winter night

Her eyes in penetration my soul now captured so
My hand she takes in hers to the floor we wanting go

Shoulder to shoulder we dance, aroma of she so close
Her perfumed nape delights as our evening gracefully flows

Whispers are softly shared amidst touches of soft caress
Closer and closer we hold, in dance our bodies impress

On this Scottish winter night, an aura dances with me
Two souls finally together, perhaps it was meant to be










http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/lorena-2.php


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Benny Goodman, Band Leader

Benny Goodman, Band Leader


A letter was left in mailbox I wanted to see

Which had been only meant for me;

When I opened it and did read;

Was about a band someone did lead.


Last name was Goodman and first Benny;

Times we played together had been many;

For music he always had a natural knack;

Fans wanted him to keep coming back.


People would cheer and hands clap;

Him on his back would often slap;

Great music put you in the mood

After his band you heard and viewed.


Now that the days have all gone by,

And here at home I often cry;

Many happy times there had been;

Wish God would bring him back again.


jthorn5656@atmc.net


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Piano player in Rotgut's saloon

“Go west young man”, the neighbors said; but they wisely stayed at home.
From pianoforte to pianoforte, saloon to saloon, town to town I roam.
Surrounded by Phillistines, “soiled doves”, cowpokes, and dullards,
Gamblers, dealers, dance hall girls, and other assorted drunkards.
If a fellow’s feeling generous, he might leave something in my jar,
Or even offer me a drink of the “good stuff” behind the bar.
I guess my fortune can be made where folks are hot, dry, and thirsty,
Playing sad songs on old pianofortes that are musty, dusty, and rusty.
I grew up playing Beethoven, Chopin, Bach and Wagner.
The only songs these cretins know are all by Stephen Foster.
A gambler in a pink silk shirt once asked for a Franz Lizt tune.
I was so surprised, I fell off my chair, to the amusement of the room.
The “faded rose” smells like a horse, and looks the worse for wear.
But if a few more drovers buy me beers, I probably will not care.
If I should wake up next to her, I won’t know what to say.
But she’ll just pretend to be asleep as I quietly slip away.
Through hazes I might recognize a face; or maybe they all look the same.
But in town’s like Rotgut, last night’s best friend won’t remember your name.
I hope someday, somewhere I’ll find a good pianoforte in tune--
But that’s something I’ll probably never find in a one-street town saloon.
If they don’t happen to catch my name, “Eighty-Eight Fingers” will usually do;
That’s all any of them remembers anyway, after they’ve had a few.


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3

There’s nothing so suitable as a pen—for expressing pain—
No other instrument has a stint extended as deeply within the vein.
There’s nothing so fit as a laugh to release the pent up fears—
Nothing that can break the mortared cask enough to dry the tears.
There’s nothing so perfect as a song—for escaping misery:
With each rung on the staff, a soul climbs closer to free.


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SO DAZZLED BY TRUTH

The whole truth and nothing but the truth...


Aren't they gone as quickly as seasons? They were the glorious days of ardent youth,
when I loved the fairest girl and sang, " Yesterday. " Then Irene bought me a flute.


Everything I own today, I've built with patience and deligence with no rules to obey;
and may I say how proud this accomplishment makes me to have done it , " My Way ?"


I've a flair with words and I write about love as Dante, Shakespeare and Keats did: that's why I am always dreaming and listening to " Love Is A Many Splendored Thing."


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WHEN ROY SANG

A song came on the jukebox and we listened with intent
He sang "Only The Lonely" with a voice that was heaven sent
I was only in eighth grade, a few years from being a man
There was "Blue Angel" and "I'm Hurtin' " and I became a die hard fan
We'd go downtown to the Coffee Cup to hang out and have some fun
Play some music and have a soda, "Running Scared" was number one
"Crying" is still a favorite, played "Candy Man" and "Dream Baby" so loud
I was mesmerized the first time I heard Roy Orbison sing "The Crowd"
There was "Evergreen", Working For The Man" and "Leah" in the year of 62
"In Dreams" , "Falling" , "Distant Drums" and I still love "Blue Bayou"
Roy rocked the house with "Mean Woman Blues"
"What'd I Say" made us put on our dancing shoes
"Indian Summer", "Indian Wedding", "She Wears My Ring"
"Oh Pretty Woman", "It's Over", "Goodnight" Roy would sing
When Roy sang "Lana" it would tear you apart
Don't forget "Breakin' Up is Breakin' My Heart"
When Roy sang, you didn't know which song to choose
He'd make you rock, make you cry, make you feel the blues
When Roy sang, he'd put a smile on your face
When Roy sang, the world seemed a better place.

Tribute to the greatest, bar none, singer song writer of all time.


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DREAMING OF BETHLEHEM'S STARS

Eleven days before Christmas, as we were singing, " A Child Is Born"...
fluffy snowflakes came down and they were as big as white popcorn.


Surprised mom yelled, " Run to the window, they are more beautiful than snow flowers
and daises... " Go, catch some into your warm hands and dream of Bethlehem's stars!"


Astonished as those shepherds watching their sheep under the starriest sky,            
we saw pretty snowflakes not a wondrous star followed by the three Magi.


They kept on falling and floating like dry leaves on a December's cold evening...
when carols were played on a church organ that was taller than any ceiling.   

 
Merrier than angels announcing Christ's birth, we stared at His bright stable...
and what we felt was the humbleness of a King whose love was so ample.  


Once again, we ran back to the snow-dusted window and looked into the quite sky,
among the gleaming snowflakes: a golden child appeared asking for a happy lullaby. 


Entered in Francine Robert's contest,
" A Winter Couplet "
My theme: First Snowfall


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Johnny 's Song

He was born to sing upon his land
Now he's resting in God's Everlasting hands

Didn't matter who you were
That voice you'll remember for sure

A voice that could shed many a tear
Or make you just want to stand up and cheer

Oh how'll I miss this one hell of a man
Made me today of who I am

Across oceans far and wide
Johnny sang his songs with passionated pride

Now he soars amidst his eagle friends
High above the rockies bends

Oh Johnny this song's for you
As I sing about your eagle friends too




In Loving Memory 
       of 
John Denver  { 1943 -1997 }


Soar My Feathered Friend

  {  R.I.P. }


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Important Of Music In Our Lifes

Important of music in or lifes
Helps sooths termoils of daily strifes

Flow and temple of boasted notes
Rythem and rhyme that continues to float

A song from an lonesome heart
Ignited by an passionate start

Fantasy of wanting to belong
In or named in just one song

Spirits can be held on high
And can almost make you cry

So tread on your walk of life
And enjoy the melody that cuts like a knife


















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Musical Dream #10

I love listening to Bach on late evenings, especially his flowing ‘Ave Maria’,
just as I like tuning in to Schubert’s ‘Ave Maria’, far too many Ave Marias!

Nothing compares to Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight Sonata', it’s simply beautiful;
George Handel had he lived would have found Ludwig’s piece rather cool.

Amadeus Mozart, truly he was a musical genius, that Austrian son-of-a gun,
it’s high there among the classics, the elegant ‘Theme from Elvira Madigan’.

Give me Antonin Dvorak’s ‘New World Symphony’,  so serenely majestic,
that, like Tchaikovsky’s ‘Concerto in 1st Movement’, creates instant magic.

Let me tell you a little secret: my days in the cradle had long ago passed by
yet, till this day I drift off to dreamland with a few strains of Brahms’ ‘Lullaby’.

Chopin he tinkers with his piano dreamily, that young romantic Polish chap -
etudes, nocturnes, mazurkas, you name it, though he could not do hip-hop.

I adore the songs of  Bobby Dylan, though not necessarily his croaky voice;
honestly, I prefer listening to other minstrels sing his tunes, if given a choice.

Joan Baez, Joni Mitchell and Judy Collins, those gals sounded to me so fine;
I once volunteered to produce them but they said “Are you out of your mind?”

Could not do nothing with the three J’s, so I turn to Lennon & McCartney
who once rocked my childhood with their irresistible “yeah, yeah, yeah”.

Leonard Cohen, does that man ever smile? so moody and stark his music
but I love him anyway, though figuring out his lyrics often makes me sick.

Denver and Donovan’s stuff are sugary for my taste at times I would say
and there are occasions when I crave for songs that sound kinda lonely.

So I often give way to my old buddy from country land, Kristofferson man,
and let his somber ‘Sunday Morning Coming Down’ get me all undone.

Sad songs, joyful songs, all styles, will they ever come in just one package?
so I won’t have to spend much on CDs that is straining my minimum wage.

Given those great musical influences I have painstakingly mentioned above,
it is a sure bet I am off to greatness if I just behave and do what I truly love.


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When I Sing

When I sing 
I sing for Him

When I rise
I rise for Him

When I bow
I bow for Him

When I seek 
I seek for Him

When I ask
I ask for Him

When I shine
I shine for Him

When I crumble
I crumble for Him

When I yearn
I yearn for Him



Tribute To 
    The
Father Son 
   And
Holy Spirit
{Amen}


Maybe Gospel Song
Let Me Know
Thanks Love 
Kathy & Jenny



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Madame Butterfly

A gentle nature, soft like rain
With fragile beauty, was her name
A fragrant blossom, he found bliss 
Enfolded her with flower's kiss
With gentle strokes he touched her cheek
With promised love he wouldn't keep
With fickled breath, he took her heart
He toyed with her, he played a part,
He stole her love, then sailed away
And told her he'd be back some day
Her face looked out from ocean shore
With longing hope, a child she bore
A faint sweet echo of a song
She held her child as days grew long
They waited in the ocean's breeze
With futile hopes that wouldn't cease
The stars were shining, love was crying
With pining ache, her heart was dying
Convinced his love had been so pure
She learned a truth,... could not endure
Another shore he had a wife
In disgrace, she took her life!

BUTTERFLY!! ...             Butterfly!!                  ... butterfly..................


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Musician

you sang to us, spontaneous
and smiles grew like candyfloss
the air awoke with quaver notes
your words coiled in the sky like smoke
i try to catch them in my hand
but they shatter into dust and sand
and sprinkle on the grass below
so the ground takes on a golden glow

the golden glow begins to spread
and sneaks into my lover's bed
it wraps us up together tight
it's tendrils twisting in the night
so i am him and he is me
and we are 'one' so playfully
and when it finally lets us go
it'd found its way into my soul


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Pirates

Creaking shadows, creeping over fettered floors
Shattered suspicion, silence cutting jagged scores
Preening portraits, conspicuously hung in full view
Callous hands, bleeding memories which do accrue

Adagio movements, nigh nocturnes of orchestrated harm
Prowling predators, facetious footsteps which do not alarm
Opulent treasures, gaily gleaming behind double doors
Pirated stars, surreptitiously swept off to foreign shores


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composition in a minor key

 Composition 
in a minor key
swirling low 
so sad and free.
dark magenta,heavy laden
clouded skies
above the maiden
standing silent as a stone
in the garden all alone
flowers falling all around her
rising winds like wolves
to hound her,
just a statue of a soul
only you 
can make her whole.
composition in your mind
write the notes that
sight the blind.
write 
the passion ,burning ,
burning,
hope that sets the world to
turning,
write 
her eyes that shine 
for one
who sees her as the morning
sun
pen cascades of circumstance,
that find them in a gypsy dance.
write 
her away from here tonight
into his arms to hold her tight.
A composition all your own........
a minor key ,
and your alone.


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Mambo Music

Mambo music played all night long
Bringing such joy with every song

Teenage girls flirting with the boys
Dancing kids with their blinking toys

Mambo music plays in my mind
Tonight our broken spirits shined

We are back home now and their asleep
Didn’t take long to count their sheep

Taking them out was a blessed time
They drank soda and I drank wine

There is so much pain in our life
Husband died…I’m a widowed wife

But something about that Mambo
Dancing rhythms of the bongo

It grabbed my sorrow tore my grief
And brought us all needed relief

Billions of people feel this way
Does it get better none can say

Having your love stripped from your life
Managing the house still in strife

Never would I wish this on you
Broken inside feeling so blue

Mambo music brought a smile
Music and time heal with style 




(pure fiction....and dedicated to my best friend)




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THAT'S SO DISTINCTIVELY NEWYORKESE

I walk too fast on these busy sidewalks under the towering, illuminated skyscrapers,
any tourist or visitor notices the pace of my footsteps...that's so distinctively Newyorkese.


I talk with a northern accent so clear and distinguishable; and instantly anyone
who's visiting this wonderful city, recognizes it...that's so distinctively Newyorkese.


I wear the latest designer's clothes that define the image and ego of my masculinity;
it's so chic to sport the new trends and be admired...that's so distinctively Newyorkese..
 

I'm an avid fan of the Yankees, and at City Fields I watch my heroes passionately play;
I jump from my seat, when a player hits a home-run...that's so distinctively Newyorkese.
 

I find my spot on the Great lawns in Central Park, to hear a summer concert or opera;
with eyes focused on the stage, enjoying the moment ...that's so distinctively Newyorkese.


I ride over the Brooklyn bridge, when the water below glimmers, and the lights above shine;
a magnificent view, I'm privileged and glad to live here...that's so distinctively Newyorkese.
 

From the high sea, I can see the Statue of Liberty...the Green Lady holding the heavy torch;
at Ellis Island, she welcomes everyone and smiles, and that's so distinctively Newyorkese.   


Going to a familiar cafe along Fifth Avenue, to chat with old friends and drink cappuccino;
tourists kindly ask me to take their photo, I smile...that's so distinctively Newyorkese.

  
  

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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Acoustic Wisdom

Under the shower’s soothing spray,
the lungs their vocal power display.

In front of an unforgiving microphone,
the voice sounds terribly out of tune. 

Next time you are tempted to croon,
do it in the shower, with a microphone! 


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Scherzo

The music laughs 
piano thoughts
the tiny bird alive you caught
skitters wild across the keys
I hide within your satin sleeves
crepe and crinkled fragile soul
crescendoes gather and enfold
mesmerize me and infuse
a scherzo written by a muse


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Past Memory Lane

  Yes Wilfredo I do hear it
as I listen with intent,
what has happened to the children
and enchanted time we spent?

Is the past all that we own now
is forever meant to be,
just repeating and repeating
those few years so young and free?

In that lane of dormant memories
where the music swirls around
like a broken record keeping
us forever near it's sound,

Somewhere someone plays tomorrow
on an upright in the hall,
notes that do not need to borrow
words from yesterday at all.


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Music is for all

She sits and dreams as though in a trance
Of being on stage playing a wonderful dance

Clutches violin to her breast as though her heart could play
Teasing the strings , making music, night or day

She has practiced forever to get an overture right
A contest to win, bringing riches so they can eat

She closes her eyes, in another world as she plays
The music echoes around the air in a magical way

Believlng it’s like Paganini* that she plays
She tenderly draws her bow creating a musical foray

No money to spare for lessons and such
Just a determination to bring happiness in touch

With all people, whatever their creed, music is for all
To listen and enjoy and bring hope to their soul

Now she dreams, but dreams do come true
She smiles knowing full well she will see it through

So raise a glass to the young girl who lives with hope in her heart
That her future will go smoothly, making her name as a star

•	Paganini famous Italian Violinist
PENNED 24TH DECEMBER 2014


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Soliloquy

She'll walk around the house,
Not quite knowing where to go.
Just feeling the soft carpet 
Run amidst her toes.

Then she stops at this door..
Something
Sounds 
So 
Sweet...
She puts her ear to it and listens closely 
To this beautiful soliloquy.

She hears question after question,
Agreeing with it as much as the last.
"Why am I here now?"
"How have I changed through what has passed?"

She hears something,
Snaps back to reality.
I then begin to realize,
The only one that is speaking is me.

So as my mother calls me away...
We'll come back to this another day...


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Changing Times

The Sixties are over 
the 90's are here 
Let's head out for an ice cold beer

Later..........
The 90's are over
It's 2007
Listen once more to 
"Go to Heaven"


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Song of the Fall

  I wrested Autumn 

from the trees

to make a melody of leaves,

cacophony of yellowed reds,

reverberating in our heads,

Some crispy brown

and olive notes,

captured 

on a breeze that floats,

straight to you

and through your door,

collage of colors

on your floor.


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Salieri

  Foolish,childlike,great buffoon,
lolling there in some saloon
while I toss upon my bed
seeking rythyms in my head

  How I pray to see the light
one small gift for me tonight
will I ever find the key
that Mozart seems to have for free?

  Lack of moral fortitude
slovenly,yes,base and rude
I would banish such a lout
but royalty keeps him about

  He must write a requiem
for himself,a final hymn
I'll arrange it and assist
when he's gone
he won't be missed

  I'll be there to take his place
with love of God
and moral grace.


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Dreams of Love[after Liebestraum]

Magenta thatched magic
Lantern ravine
sugar plum shadows
haunting the stream
  perplexing the galaxy
a siege of illusions
a serpentine rhapsody
leads to conclusions
  Follow the lodestar
Hesperus rising
delirious love
is always surprising
weave me a diadem
wild orchids weeping
Norwegian whiskey
and Grieg
while I'm sleeping
   Deep in our bower
a bold mandolin
bids us forget
all we are or have been
we rise on the vapors
melodic surrender
to the rhythm of love
and our night 
to remember.


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the Music was Mozart

 Search the skies for scattered music
lift me up on Mozarts' joy,
wild and wanton
he was baudy
just a naughty man and boy.

how his genius overshadows
anything the man had done
strange the muse 
can take the measure
of the soul and truth has won.

Music never was his master
just a toy he brought along,
from his childhood
like the comfort
of a baby's evening song

like the color of the fabric 
of the universe at hand,
Mozart 's music is eternal
as  the human heart is grand.


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Beethoven

oh Immortal Beloved
how came you never to my shore
tho I have waited evermore
you leave me all the more bereft
for knowing lastly of the theft
the thief who stole your loving heart
who tore the two of us apart
has so much more than I to give
the world to hear
the will to live.


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Color of Music

With a rose wood neck and pearl inlay 
I placed my fingers on her, just to play 
A time enjoyed more, I never had 
The sounds she now made, made me glad. 

She sang with beauty, each note she hit. 
Melodious? More than just a bit. 
With love I gave, then closed my eyes 
And she gave back with charming sighs. 

Her body, curved, felt just so right 
As we played together on this night. 
The color of music that we made 
Went on eternally, as we played.


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SEEN BUT NOT HEARD

Ludwig's emperor sounded supreme - 
                                                                        staying unpremiered,in his dream

Tribute to Beethoven and the story of his 5th symphony


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My Musician

He plays guitar
And strikes up a tune
His blue eyes are smiling 
As he enters the room
He's strumming along to his favorite beat
His laughter is endless
His harmony sweet
He's playing a melody
His rhythem just right
His drive and ambition
Light up the night
He's playing the blues
He's practicing jazz
His talents are soaring
He's the best that I've had
He's singing my song
He's right on key
His music is passion
When he's playing for me


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DIVINAS TO DIVAS

Inspiration to composers,past  - 
                                                            prima donnas,never last