Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership


See and share Beautiful Nature Photos and amazing photos of interesting places



Song Social Poems | Social Poems About Song

These Song Social poems are examples of Social poems about Song. These are the best examples of Song Social poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

12
Details | Verse |

Ding Dong The Wicked Witch is Dead

Globally, miners jubilantly jump for joy
Smiles on the faces of every girl and boy
The grins of a newly opened Xmas toy
Thatcher’s dead.

Trade unionists bounce along the street
Music blaring and the tapping of feet
From nurses to Bobbies still on the beat
Thatcher’s dead.

Street parties announced in the nation
Satan who brought economic inflation
Is deceased, now’s the time for elation
Thatcher’s dead.

Its times like this I’m sad I’m an atheist
And can only shout and wave my fist
And then go to the pub and get pissed
Thatcher’s dead.


Details | Lyric |

Unite Blue

Verse 1

I’ve had this dream now for a while,
But the real world’s where I choose to stay,
The time is now for standing up,
To reach out for that brighter day.

Chorus

Unite to lend a hand to those who are in need,
Unite against them, whose souls are consumed by greed,
Unite and lend a hand, and we can change the world,
We’re the ones we’ve been waiting for.

Verse 2

Walking past two souls holding hands,
I see that it’s true love conquers all,
A dreamland where we all sing and dance,
And hands to catch us should we fall.

(Chorus)

Bridge

United, it’s in our hands,
United, it’s how we stand,
United, across all lands.
Empathy, we understand,
Together, it’s how we stand,
Unite with one voice, One Hand.


Details | Free verse |

Grandma Was Dancing

She was a tappin' to the tunes...
of those Mississippi blues...
step-pin' out, in her white...
Pat-en-leather shoes,

We were a watchin' her a prancin',
all through the kitchen, dancin'...
for she was so...hot & sizzlin'...
hummin' to those Mississippi tunes...

Funny curlers too, upon...
her head...for a new... Hair dew,...
she was, a swirlin'-in that bakers apron,
when her head...star-ted a bobbin' to...
those Mississip-pi blues,

'Pots were a knockin'...
Grandma a sockin' down all she brews,
while that kettle there was whistlin',
in har-mo-ny, with them good ole...
good ole...mississip-pi moves,'

That floor there, was a bouncin'
holdin' hands we were a jumpin',
an-a hoppin' In the kitchen, to those...
                  sounds ...
Where Grandma's feet were a stompin',
In her new...New-white-sexy-pat-en-
leather-shoes...
(ya hoo)


Details | I do not know? |

Untitled-Free Thoughts-Rap

Oh well here I go again, 
wishin for a dream that I could be wrapped in, 
entrapped in, 
torn away from addiction, 
destroy the tele… 
vision they strive to force upon you, 
its all false but you know I’m true. 
They will not protect you when you scream your broken cries, 
they are merely evil faces of masked men behind illuminati eyes 
with which they hypnotize, 
brainwash you with their lies. 
I've got those deep thoughts pouring in, 
all the roads I've traveled down
conditions I have traveled in 
here in my pretty town, 
the 910 deserves a crown. 
East Coast I'm representing, 
I promise you I am not venting. 
High on that purple haze, 
And still haven't slept for days, 
excuse these bloodshot eyes
with a krispy kreme glaze, 
some will try to say its just a silly phase...
My mind is so graphic, 
use words like special tactics, 
unmistakable like D'Jango, 
or a peace signs' angle, 
destroy the crave for war and struggle, 
no need to explain all the trouble, 
with places burstin’ into rubble, 
Rebel! Rebel! We’ll show ‘em hell! 
I’ll be fightin’ when I'm dead, 
kick and scream till my blood is shed, 
let authorities know the message will be spread! 
Put on a show with a little bit of passion 
or the bad things will continue to happen.
Get the love through your head, 
all this hatred should be dead, 
what I'm saying must be said, 
before the gauge goes into red. 
With vocabulary this brilliant makes a female more vigilant, 
like brothers boston what I speak 
my words alone will make you weak, make you faint, 
Like blood spilled by hands of a vigilante saint, 
trust me lifes too short,
you dont have the time my young cohort, 
wait until your words make an enemy
cause their threatened by the uncertainty 
that you will make it this far 
make a point unlike this war
next thing you know you see ‘em sweat
words fresh like paint drippin with purpose, 
makin ‘em wet.  
I finger paint a master piece with a just simple rhyme, 
just don't pull your piece on me just let me speak, my mind, 
while I unwind, rewind all this blasphemy, 
continential catastrophe, 
I may have to beg and plead so that my boys can rest in peace 
sorry for the interruption, 
don’t blame me for the corruption, 
for now I'll put my words at ease, 
hope you told someone you loved them today and that it wasn't a white lie, 
just a tease.

04.27.2013


Details | Light Poetry |

A WONDERFUL WORLD

A WONDERFUL WORLD
One of my favorite songs whenever it's sung, 
"What a Wonderful World" is right on my tongue.
The melody's fine and the lyrics are great
but other thoughts sometime get to me 
and make my heart ache.

Louie Armstrong sings it best.
He's way ahead of all the rest.
But is the world really such a wonder?
It makes you stop and then 
ponder.

They quickly say the world is warming 
but we can't say it was without warning.
Climate change affects the weather
And that doesn't make things better.

For the trees of green and red roses too
may not bloom as Louie sings it to you.
We'll have droughts and floods
and skies not so blue.

The clouds of white are not so bright 
as storms brew over the lands. 
And the shaking of hands
seem to be more of fright
as the winds stir up the desert sands.

We have "Arab Springs" and children are shot
and babies will cry, "please forget me not."
As the world seems to ache
from these things we forsake 
for the love that we seem to have forgot. 

The world is quite full of 6.5 billion
and the people starving are 
more than 6 million.  
Can that make it a wonderful world?

The friends who shake hands and say,
"How do you do?"  
are they really saying, "I love you?"
The song says so but we really don't know
if they truly mean it or it's just for show.

But when we consider all things 
about how the world really sings
and always ends up with a smile,
we know somehow the world will get by  
as  long  as we give it a real try.

The world has been here for such a long time
and somehow has survived no matter what sign 
through storms, earthquakes and more.
People live on regardless of any war
or disease that is other than benign.

Because no matter what dread 
it can really be said
it is still a wonderful world.
And Louie is right as he sings with delight 
of rainbows and bright stars in the night.

The message of the song is very profound 
and with a little patience the world will rebound.
So even if it seems so imperiled,
indeed, it is still a wonderful world. 

 
 



Details | Prose Poetry |

Nineteen fable

 Nineteen fable 
Nineteen fable 
 
MUSICK NONnude Review 
 
 
CHarlaxFabels 
 
Grand Funk Railroad was a fave group of mine the best time eye ever had was in 
a house on a rug listening to this song of hard rock and rhinocerous thumps. 
Wait. FOGHAT was the best for sex but lucky mee was never a Catholic. The 
Horns blew for Chicago and there was lots of other groups to make this fable 
bleed there was the Creedence Clearwater Revival so cool so wonderful a thing. 
John Fogarty sure must have been a saint. Eye wish he had not got so mad and 
left the other members of his group. But Creedence Song became a new fave 
thing. 
Daddy had a band 
Played him a little guitar 
Traveled in a van 
Livin' that rock and roll 
Night after night 
People comin' up to the bandstand 
Say you can't go wrong 
If you play a little bit of that 
Creedence song 

It was late one night 
Cruisin' on down the interstate 
Stopped into a diner 
To get him some chili and fries 
Heard the waitress tell a guy 
Standin' over by the jukebox 
Hey you can't go wrong 
If you play a little bit of that 
Creedence song 

Well daddy took a shine 
To the lil' girl behind the counter 
She movin' her hips to the swamp beat 
Right on time 
Said could he play her somethin' 
Over there on the jukebox 
She said you can't wrong 
If you play a little bit of that 
Creedence song 

Daddy had a plan 
He asked that girl to marry 
With a brand new wife 
They're livin' on rock and roll 
Night after night 
She whispers oh so sweetly 
Hey you can't go wrong 
If you play a little bit of that 
Creedence song 




Details | Lyric |

Cancer

I can't believe I haven't posted this one. I wrote it last year, can't remember the exact date. Anyhow it's a song. ---------------- You know this world is cancer Without these prayers being answered It's been too long a ponder We wonder We wander Far from here Lost in fear Can you see them fall? You lose one you lose them all She's seen the cruel hearts of stone She's seen the cancer we've become So lost in worry we just fall down Underground we burn Till the last one's sure Can you see me fall? You lose one you lose them all Cut me out of this body! Cut me out of everybody! Grind me into little pieces! Tell them that I'm the reason- You know this world is cancer Without these prayers being answered It's been too long a ponder We wonder We wander Far from here Lost in fear Can you see me fall? You lose one you lose them all You lose one you lose. . . Them all


Details | Haiku |

Words

Words said, sung, written
Bred man's civilization. 
Words made us human.


Details | Haiku |

MUSIC - HAIKU

Play The Radio Get Up And Dance All Night Long Music Heals The Soul


Details | Narrative |

THE SONG OF WHITE ROSES

                Invisibility tastes like black liquorish, dark and bitter. And tonight, on New Year’s Eve, it was so very hard to swallow.
	Happy people scurried by, but some paused to hear her play before dropping their gazes to the coins inside the open guitar case. One man shook his head and then crossed the street. Frankly, she preferred his disgust over that earlier offer to put her hands to better use. Her mother had done that type of thing. Busking was not easy money, but she had her regulars, too, and they didn't leave shame behind.
	She was cold, but she owed on the basement room she rented. The place smelled like heating oil, and earphones barely blocked out the sound of her neighbor across the hall, talking to himself, day and night. Still, she had a place to crash. 
	Suddenly, she thought of Agnes. She often did. Agnes, her foster mom, the one who had changed anger into strength, anguish into happiness. Agnes, the mother-of-her-heart who had nurtured those crushed dreams for three, sweet years until cancer had took her away.
                 Stunned, she saw them. Roses. A pathway of white roses. Her breath caught in her throat. Agnes’ small garden had been filled with the flowers, and her casket had been shrouded in them. The image haunted her.
	Trembling, she bent and picked up one. The petals were still warm. She was again in that small yard, the one with the swings. Her guitar was all she had, but the roses beckoned. Each flower led her further down the street, and their perfume was heady. Agnes, giving her a bubble bath, saying, “You’re my BEST Rose. And you smell like one, too.” Every rose, another memory…
	The full blossoms led to the downtown church, now locked. Odd, the door was opening. There was Agnes, smiling, calling to her. Without hesitation, she ran into those outstretched arms, arms that had always been loving.
	As the sun rose, on the steps of his church, a man found the body of a beautiful teen covered with snow and clutching a bouquet of roses. He said he’d heard angelic music, had followed the sweet sound and had found her, wearing a peaceful smile. The papers ran with the story. An autopsy revealed that Jane Doe had died of a brain aneurism, and she remained nameless.
	But an urban myth began, the legend of a lost angel who had returned home on a cold, New Year’s Day, proving that God’s garden is closer than we think. We only need to open our eyes and ears.

*based on the Little Match Girl
For Debbie's contest


12