Amazing Nature Photos

Epic Music Poems | Epic Poems About Music

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

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Classicism | |

The Melody Of Love

 
Love plays different melodies.. 
Music to which lovers respond..
  
Instrumental, is the harp, 
the flute, and the drum.
 
Listen with your ears, for
your heart may skip a beat
. 
Listen with your eyes,eyes will 
always see.

Hear with your whole being, 
the melody of love.
 
The Drum will beat out 
warnings..

As the harp beckons 
to you,.."come"!!
 
The flute will calm a 
distressed soul... 

But only the melody of unity 
can strike that blessed chord.
 
Unity and passion can 
fulfill the empty soul.

While the melody of love 
unheard, is sad.

Opened ears will make songs glad.... 
When we move our feet together, 

our hearts will dance in unison 
If we hear love’s melody

with unguarded hearts - 
To the love we shall sub-come.

We contemplate the music 
of loves sweet refrain.
 
Together we make music 
of melodious adoration,

As our creator's love 
has no limitations.

You whistle the same 
bars and measures.
 
As I lay and calmly hum.
We be tuned as one- 

We become 
as a symphony, 

to which our 
heartstrings strum.

Copyright © Vicki Acquah | Year Posted 2014

Details | Epic | |

The Rhythm of Africa- A collaboration with Njeri Hunjeri

Unsung on the world stage Heroes of the African continent Diverse lingo, diverse souls Capture minds capture hearts Most unappreciated Their rhythm echoes Their wisdom ancient Music unconventional Yet heavily intoxicating From Papa Wemba "show me the way" I gyrate to Kofi to Fela Gola "vita imana" I don't have to understand My hips do as I sway You can go the whole night dancing to "malaika" by fadhili Williams But don't drink too much "umqombothi" You still have time to remember From the shores of jazz to the apex of jazz Hugh Masekela always eponymous For when those hips are exhausted a break to the sound Bembeya Jazz National "Ballake" always soothes And the list never disappoints There is a bite for every saccharine moment A melody for every savory memory A satisfactory note Your ancients called it "engoma" Rhythmic drums whose sounds traveled From the eastern tip to the jungle Now Kingoma is the apex of swahili rhythm Your "engoma" carried across the shores Upon many a downtrodden slaves stole And your rhythm salve for the souls During periods of darkness and plight In slavery and apartheid Through many of your children's plight Only pleading for their rights Sam Cooke "A change is gonna come" such delight But you liberating spirit of "engoma" Not confined, Cesaria Evora the barefoot diva Dared break the bounds of boundaries Trailblazer for your brothers and sisters No longer a confined orphan But a shimmering star And now you fuse a new generation Always so creative psquare "personally" To Wes "Alane" to Yossur N'dor To D'Banj to Akon, shimmering stars of the continent Your children were called the passionate ones I agree

Copyright © Marugu MO | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

For What's Worth Breathing


Look at me
I am the life in a wasteland

Look at me
I am the slavery through the ages

Look at me
I am the mirror of the world

Look at me
I am the illusion I’ve fought for

Look at me
I’m still loving you

and I keep being here

for you, for me,
and for what’s worth breathing

Copyright © Rixa White | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

Any Ideas?

Well what should I write about tonight?

Should I write about what I did today?
Should I write about my shoelaces?
Should I write about doing laundry?
Or Should I write about what I'd like for breakfast tomorrow?

Maybe I should ramble about how the school day went.
Maybe I should complain about my room being dirty.
Maybe I should name off the food in my kitchen.
Or Maybe I should just talk about my hair.

I wanna talk about what I'm learning on guitar.
I wanna speak out about my inner issues.
I wanna yell a crazy rant.
I just wanna blow off some steam.

I wish I could take a bath with a girl right now.
I wish I would've finished my homework.
I wish I could shoot ice from my finger tips
I just wish I had some soda to quench my thirst.

There are so many things I could say right now!
But I just can't seem to decide.
I'd probably get some pretty weird looks
If I told you what's all bottled up inside.

I'm everywhere and nowhere in my head
Ideas and thoughts bouncing left and right.
Too bad I can't seem to think of anything.
I was really wanting to get some feelings out tonight.

Do I need to shave in the morning?
Should I go to the music store after school?
Why didn't I grab matching socks?
What does the weekend have in store?

I wish I had something to write about.
Any Ideas?

Eh, I'll think of something tomorrow night.

Copyright © Captain Dan | Year Posted 2009

Details | Epic | |

And she knows - The 6th Street Series - Part 2

11:45 pm

Spot light’s glare, shadows rocking 
Wooden stage moving beneath my feet
Worn of past performances, steadied for the new breed
Bottles line the edge, dead soldiers, lipstick
Some full, some not, some spilled…nice

She’s there, always there, a comforting sight
Behind the bar, eyes that invite and a laugh that sings
Keeping watch, black printed T, wears it perfectly
Hot as all Hades, but cool as spring
Not sure if she owns this or it owns her…but she knows

Sticks count out the intro… 2,3,4
High on E, bent to a G, this is it, her favorite, 
the one that gets her right there
She looks up at me with that smile, that smile
Loving how this feels in her heart 
And she knows I know…

The way she moves her head from side to side
Eyes closed, lips smooth, shut tight, grooving
Playing an air guitar now, 
She’s good…following my lead fret by fret
She knows how…yes she knows

Maybe I’m in love, no maybe…she is mine
My music is for her, it’s always been for her
And somehow, she’s the lyrics
I have always sung…and always will 
I play D’addario, she plays heart strings…mine

Mouthing the words to the chorus, 
She is my silent harmony tonight, pitch perfect 
This music is us, this club her world, our world
I love this place, I love us and I love her
And she knows…

The 6th Street I am talking about is in Austin Texas. It is the center of the musical world in that city. You can find any kind of music you like being played live in any of a number of different clubs on this street

There are four parts to this series if you care to see them. Actually there are 5, but # 5 would probably be a bit much for this site. 

Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2016

Details | Epic | |

Prove it rock star - The 6th Street Series - Part 4



2:45 am

I set my case in the corner, empty the picks from my pocket
and kick off my shoes, it was a great night
She tosses her purse on the couch, blows me a kiss
and heads to the kitchen, I love watching her

I can hear her humming that song, our song
A few candles lit, she returns with a couple of beers, some lemon and salt
Plops down on the couch next to me with a giggle
Puts her feet up on the coffee table

A swallow of beer, knowing I’d rather swallow her
Leaning over I kiss her, soft and warm
She climbs over my lap, straddling me
Kissing more passionate, more intense

She pulls off my Kurt Cobain T and caresses my chest
Her moist lips find my neck, it becomes hot in here
I remove her shirt over her up stretched arms,
set it aside and hold her close

Her skin feels so good on mine
as our lips once more collide in passion’s desires
My mouth traces the outline of her beautiful body,
she grips my head and guides me

Flickering candle light dances, creating twin rhythmic shadows
I grab a lemon slice, dripping its tart juice on her flesh
It tastes so good, her skin becomes my lemonade
as her love adds just the right amount of sugar

“That’s for the beer dummy,” she laughs
but she doesn’t stop me, why would she
Her hands on my shoulders, she leans back
and her soft moans are now my music, her body my stage

Biting my ear she whispers, “Rock me, rock star,” 
She knows I like that, even though I’m not, she makes me feel that way
I stand, lifting her with me, her legs wrap my waist, kissing,
arms tightly about my neck, and carry her to the bed

Sirens blare outside the window, normal for this hour in the city,
as we fall atop the gold comforter, collapsing as one
I gaze into her gorgeous eyes, still sparkling even in the darkness
“I love you Baby” I say, she smiles that enchanting smile and sighs…

”Prove it rock star, play me”

Please check out parts 1, 2 and 3 if you get a chance
The 6th Street I am talking about is in Austin Texas. It is the center of the musical world in that city. You can find any kind of music you like being played live in any of a number of different clubs on this street
There are 4 parts to this series if you care to see them. Actually there are 5, but # 5 would probably be a bit much for this site. 

Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Generic Minds

generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot 
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine 
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians 
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them

Copyright © Green Trees | Year Posted 2012

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Family Grief Family Happiness

  
   Have you ever written anything without sub combing to tears ?
        
    My Family portrait in my mind , 2 older sisters , 2 brothers
        My Mother caring about all five in different ways
      Just with Mom & Dad there having the best of Holidays 
     My sisters laying out on the deck of river bank for 4th of July ~
          
      Listening to " Honkey Chateau " and all by Elton John. 
       music  a great memory ~Disco , Donna summer , Grease ~ Jaws !

     Dad's records to Tony Bennett , Hank W Sr. , Count Basie & Louis Armstrong.
          The music  takes me home in a wagon filled with children and a dog "Lucky "    
      My Older brother , athletic , always fishing & hunting.
                 My younger , my Rock , Swimming and netting for fish,
        feeding our Fat cat Perch off the rocks patiently awaits her food               
         
       the yelling , slamming of doors ,  tempers Flare , passion 
         Our Parents , passionate love yet passionate Hate .
        
        After being a Family of Seven , Divorcing their fate ..
         Why did that show " Dallas " bring out the Divorce in all ?

       Scottish ~ Irish ~ French Iroquois ~ Cherokee  
                 No matter what the mix ..Our curse Alcohol ~
          the  Screaming , Drinking , this memory I wish to shut the door on .  
        Going to A & W or making Cheerleading ,The Bears of course~
             Excited in Chicago !  seeing Elton John in the Summer of 1976 ~
        Cubs ,  museum of Wax , Museum of science & History , Pizza !
        
       Expeditions of discovery ,little brother & I finding arrowheads on the Shore.
             Our Grandparents Faithful Celebrations ! Chiffon cake , Apple strudel `  
        Our Cousins on Holidays , going for ice cream cones , 
          scent of wet rain on oak leaves ~Before Halloween was bought in stores.
        
           ~ That is the Family I Love ,
                     that is the Family I choose to miss ~    
                       
              

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | Blank verse | |

he is leaving home

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

                





Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | Epic | |

young American days


              
                   To be in a young America ~
           visions of a ship upcoming statue of Liberty
               the young lad holding tightly to his Mothers leg
             in all excitement of a new Land to call their own
      celebrations of apple pie and fireworks on the 4th of July 
          
             thoughts of the old Hollywood on screen 
                films without 3-D costing less then a dollar
        Greta , Monroe , Betty Davis eyes tantalizing blue glare
       The Wizard of Oz or books written by Steinbach, Capote, Mark Twain

             exciting new visions of creating new concepts 
                 before Capitalism bought all little ones to bigger
           songs came from the hills of Virginia to the black Mountains
               surfacing in Tennessee for all to hear and wish to see  

          The day when one travelled by car on the road travelled
             every town a story told , learning history we once shed blood 
         American Indian tears to the British man whom choose freedom of taxes
            Boston held a tea party , now wishing they threw out marmite instead
 
         The day when we knew our neighbors and bought homes with a paystub
             Everyone had a chance to make their own with pride , even through wars
        When Martin Luther King stood proudly as did President Lincoln for Freedom 
             How many streets have been named after the man whom had a dream ?

             When milk was delivered on doorsteps in Glass bottles 
                 Babies wanting the very first of the top being cream 
             leaving doors open , watching news with your family at 6pm
                cartoons were shut down and it was now grown up time 

                      Cereal being a cheap snack for after school 
                         school supplies costing twenty dollars 
                      Grandma school clothes shopping for fifty 
                   before the internet , cell phones , and text for hello ~

                         2 week Vacations not afraid to put up Camp 
                Christmas sold in December with the sentiment of Love not money
        a day when if one were sick , you could actually get penicillin without question 
         The Doctor treated everything calling it General Practice no fear of Malpractice 

               Never forgetting our Motor city  
                 Old Ford Trucks Chevrolets and Dodge
                  The city that brought Ottis Reding and Marvin Gaye 
               

                     What happened to us ?  Where did America Go ? 

                   

         
  

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode | |

Sexy Curves

In a dark room music plays with a slow beat,
the neon lights make you white panties and bra look like a street. 
You move your body slowly and so sexy to the music,
while i look at you threw the darkness of the room set.

A big silver gun on my hip and a mountain of coke on the table,
and nothing can distract me from the beauty i see dancing so stable. 
Your every move hypnotizes me,
I think I am going blind cause i am beginning not to see. 

I look at your hair how it waves there so perfectly,
your legs move just like i want them to, so delicately.
You touch your breasts and you hold your but,
you give me that look in your eyes like your not wanting to stop. 

You unbutton your bra and cover your breasts with your palms,
the music dies down a  little and calms. 
You walk up to me and than music begins to play,
that's when you start moving your body on top of me and asking me to stay.

You kiss my ear and rub my legs,
your breast rub against my inner pains.
You feel me harder than a rock,
than you decide to grind my cock. 

Your body moves so sexy and slowly to the music that i played,
my body is shaking from all the excitement that is payed. 
You go in for the big finish, and i tell you to get back up,
cause a lady like you should do all that kind of crap. 

Be with me, be with a BOSS,
Who cares if the people i killed ever took a loss. 


Dedicated to all the woman of the world. 
PS: You are not trash, you are not ......... you are precious jewels. Stay that way ladies. I love you all. 

 

Copyright © Roman Chebukin | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

Michael Jackson Gone Too Soon (Seventh Heaven)

“Heal The World” like in Heaven A “Thriller” many believed he was too “Bad” The King of Pops “Black or White” Seven times he cried—“The Way You Make Me Feel” Then he “Eased on Down the Road” Singing: “Earth Songs” like “Beat It,” “Leave Me Alone” Now “Ben,”—he is “Gone Too Soon!” ~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~ © Joseph Spence, Sr., 6/28/09 © All Rights Reserved ~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~ The form is 7/11/7/11/7/11/7. The total syllable count is 61. The first line has seven syllables, second eleven, third seven, fourth eleven, fifth seven, sixth eleven, and seventh seven. Rhyming is optional; however, it’s a plus. Any variation of the words “seven” or “heaven” must appear in the poem. Invented by Joseph Spence, Sr., 2007. ~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~ Joseph S. Spence, Sr., is the author of "The Awakened One Poetics" (2009), which is published in seven different languages. He invented the Epulaeryu poetry form, which focuses on succulent cuisines and drinks. He is published in various forums, including the World Haiku Association; Poetinis Druskininku, Milwaukee Area College, Phoenix Magazine; Möbius Poetry, and Taj Mahal Review to name a few. Joseph is a Goodwill Ambassador for the state of Arkansas, USA, a college faculty, and a military veteran.

Copyright © Joseph Spence Sr | Year Posted 2009

Details | Epic | |

Alligator and the Bayou Boogie Band

  Alligator with fierce but captivating eyes sometimes red glare
  The Man with a title given by the High Priest of his Tribe 
  A man gifted at Birth for the World to be entertained by.
  Though much more then the Entertainer inside ~

  This Man a poet , a man of wisdom and power 
  Playing his cordless accordion or Guitar on the tiny Bar
  Powerful stares , people dancing crazy underneath a moonlit sky
  His trance , a spell on others , not to be denied 

  A Force stronger then you will know , be dared to reckon with 
  His name was given at birth for a reason , A Scorpio
  Legacy throughout Europe and deep woods in the Bayou 
  Alligator loved by many , playing Jimmy Hendrix to Zydeco 

  Alligator , the man on fire , women can not help but desire 
  In Monterey Bay, California, he plays , magical surprise 
  be warned if you go with date to see him  "Alligator " 
  At the end of your dancing to Zydeco and blues 
  your date will be in Trance , one glare into his eyes 
  she will be wanting He at the end of the night , your demise.

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | Epic | |

The rhythm of Africa, collabo with Mo Marugu

Unsung on the world stage
Heroes of the African continent
Diverse lingo, diverse souls
Capture minds capture hearts
Most unappreciated
Their rhythm echoes
Their wisdom ancient
Music unconventional
Yet heavily intoxicating
From Papa Wemba "show me the way"
I gyrate to Kofi to Fela Gola "vita imana"
I don't have to understand
My hips do as I sway

You can go the whole night dancing to "malaika" by fadhili Williams
But don't drink too much "umqombothi"
You still have time to remember
From the shores of jazz to the apex of jazz
Hugh Masekela always eponymous

For when those hips are exhausted
a break to the sound Bembeya Jazz National "Ballake" always soothes
And the list never disappoints
There is a bite for every saccharine moment
A melody for every savory memory
A satisfactory note

Your ancients called it "engoma"
Rhythmic drums whose sounds traveled
From the eastern tip to the jungle
Now Kingoma is the apex of swahili rhythm

Your "engoma" carried across the shores
Upon many a downtrodden slaves stole
And your rhythm salve for the souls
During periods of darkness and plight
In slavery and apartheid
Through many of your children's plight
Only pleading for their rights
Sam Cooke "A change is gonna come" such delight

But you liberating spirit of "engoma"
Not confined, Cesaria Evora the barefoot diva
Dared break the bounds of boundaries
Trailblazer for your brothers and sisters
No longer a confined orphan
But a shimmering star

And now you fuse a new generation
Always so creative psquare "personally"
To Wes "Alane" to Yossur N'dor
To D'Banj to Akon, shimering stars of the continent
Your children were called the passionate ones
I agree

Copyright © njeri hunjeri | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme | |

Goin' In

G-O-I- to the N. These 4 letters fill my head and that point I do begin. To go in and bust a ryhme. Come with a bong and you're right on time. To see my quickness, watch my shine and see me snap on every line. Through the course of this beat, I'll try to demonstrate. How everytime I jump on a track, I seem to defacate. And literate the coldness that I epitimate. Let's get it straight. I'm up on my way to the top and all my opponents I will eliminate. I see the game today and I must say it's a shame to mention. they're ryhming street with meat but lack a true flowwer's intuition. they're just spitting about the money and how they're looking so legit. And you say that you're running the streets well I'm about to take your jurisdiction. Because i never run out of breath. Can't you see that I'm clearly insane. Because this state of excessive dilirium has got me on a campaign. To get my streets from out of their sleep. And have them bopping to the beat. It's a renasance full of ambionce. And bovine hide free. It's a party and I'm the host. But the rest you've yet to see. Go by name of Intel The Brain. Or you could just call me I.T.B. Or you can call me that brother that can go up in the sky and have a mass celabration. Homie call it higher than thy. The skills that I sketch in this sonat, so horribly toxic. That if put inside of a missle and you launch it, call it atomic. And if you did'nt understand it then you need to run it back. Because I just plainly showed you how to go in on a track.

Copyright © Julian Miles | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme royal | |

I'm Irreplaceable

I slip my headphones on, and I begin dreaming,
my desk is my alter, and the Heavens is what I'm seeing.
My pen is the bridge, and this paper is the gate,
writer's block is the pad lock, the only thing in the way.

I click open my pen, and begin to release from within,
my blood runs as deep the ink, and washes away my sins.
My thoughts are the cross, and my burdens act like a wreath.
Razor sharp thorns cut me, as I'm trying to catch my breath.

My enemies are the whips, hitting me in the back,
tying me down with chains, just to get a little laugh.
My lyrics are my message, what got me here in the first place.
My mind is my shovel, digging the hole to bury my scarred face.

Then the beat stops, and I wake up from my trance,
I hit replay and try again, I only got one chance.
I'm giving it my all, but at least I'll always know one thing,
I'm Irreplaceable.


The track starts again, and I slip back into my sleep.
My pen is my gun and the paper is my enemies.
Writers block is my holding cell, and the key is my mind,
my mind is the problem, because it locks itself up all the time.

The beat is my pulse, slowing down before it drops,
then picking up the pace, while adrenaline does it's job.
My words are the bullets, penetrating your skin,
your body is still intact, but you're shattered within.

The lead is the streets, giving me countless ways to go,
the eraser gives me the ability, to never leave my home.
Every word is a stray bullet, it'll connect it won't.
My enemies are my targets, I either hit 'em or I don't.

But I'll keep shooting, until this lead goes dull,
I'm giving it my all, but at least I'll always know one thing,
I'm Irreplaceable.

Copyright © Aaron Guttery | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric | |

Come As You Are

At one point in my life i was an artist
I used to paint and draw
Covering a piece of paper
In beautiful colors
And my art told a story
The sort of story you couldn't talk about
I used to go to school every day
Showing up late 
Wasn't something I'd do
But i dropped out
Leaving my education behind
I played the bass guitar
In a band called 
The Nocturnal
My fingers ran against that bass
Pure magic
The sound of the gods
Setting out to destroy the world
Pure Punk straight from Seattle
At one point i was clean
Sober and pure like a new born baby
Falling further into 
What you now call 
"disapointment"
Screwing up my veins
with every shot of herion
Killing my brain cells
With every joint i smoked
Clogging up my nose 
With every pill you could have known
I used to write lyrics
About my life
My childhood
I used to write journals
The ones you read in the book 
that was published of me
I got up on that stage every night
As i was
Nothing fake
Nothing glamourous
Only a few scars
One shot of heroin
Come as you are
The words only speak for 
Themselves

Copyright © Orlin Collier | Year Posted 2012

Details | Ballad | |

Voice in the Night

How do I thank
The voice in the night?
Call of hope
After the world turned dark

How do I thank
The voice in the night?
Healing words
Made from
Angel heart

Oh, her chocolate whisper
Warm convincing breeze
Oh, her breathy laughter
In the shadow of my need 

Don’t you hear the voice?
Save  you from despair
Don’t you hear the voice?
Sent by ghosts who care

Don’t you hear the voice?
Rises like a prayer
Come to rescue you
From your earthly snare

How do I thank
The voice in the night?
Call of hope 
Kissed my tears away

How do I thank
The voice in the night?
Now I dance
To a magic serenade

Don’t you hear the voice?
Memories of home
Don’t you hear the voice?
Pretty as a poem

Don’t you hear the voice?
Vivifies your soul
Bathes you in a pool 
Love you’ve never known

How do I thank
The voice in the night?
Call of hope
After the world turned dark

Voice inside the darkness
Gets into my head
Lady caller,
Take me, take me
To your bed

Voice inside the darkness
Gets into my head
Lady caller
Raise me, raise me
From the dead

Voice inside the darkness
Gets into my head

Copyright © Catman Cohen | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

Love And Pricks

I Love the elderly so full of history I love my generation who kept me a mystery I love the children who's future, now bright for I have died for them to capture the light for i understand pain more than ever once I released it the anger got better as it went away from the people and into my music without a single reason to prove it without a reason to let Love's light in I didn't, it found me and lesser I sin God and my father both let me know it would all be okay so very long ago even tho the road would be full of pricks even back then I'd tell them you can all suck my dick. -Bj Fard

Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haiku | |

All About the Music: Sole On Soul

Click clack; Sole on soul.
Swaying shoes to the rhythms 
The beat makes you whole.

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse | |

Young Fool -To my Father

YOUNG FOOL.

Weren’t you the silly and stubborn young man who came to the land of the Free
and home of the Brave to work for free, starve and get no sleep? How dare you change 
paradise for this?

Once the night fell you got on a tiny boat with a thousand others breaking your mother’s 
heart and making the toughest man on earth cry, your father.

Oh you silly young man... smart, handsome, talented, and humble of only 23 decided to 
risk it all. You had it better than most back home, yet you needed more. You needed to 
set foot on the land of “Once upon a time.”

Days went by, weeks and maybe months, desperation came closer and the toughest 
broke down, the braves returned back home to make it there as if it was meant to be like 
that and the fool like you continued. Even though everything seemed to be endless, you, 
I guess, you trusted God or were too blind folded by your desires that you didn’t back up.

Tierra! (Land!) Was screamed in desperation as a sign of relieve. Tierra! Columbus and his 
men would’ve been ashamed of their cry announcing that they had reached land if they 
would’ve heard you and your companions.

OH, you silly old man, still don’t own a home. Yet, feel that you have accomplished all. 
Like a sleepy baby you got through the days. You made it through with hands that had a 
mind of their own, fixing things, painting, and doing things that still amaze us all.

But you, you didn’t come here for the home, the car of the year, or the Bling Bling but for 
the future of two little girls. Foolishness, ignorance and desire taught you to be the best 
man to walk the surface of the earth, to be tough, to be brave like a soldier and to stay 
humble all the way!

I love you Dad.



Copyright © yesica lantigua | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

THE MUSIC MAN

At eases rest, he sits waiting,
The guitarist.
Withered arthritic hands,
Shake now.
His study gaze strains,
To read the noted page.
Thoughts drifting, pondering,
A gentler pace.
Reflections pause, amongst, 
Remembrance still waters.
Life's forgotten rambler, 
Traveling along destiny’s,
Long lost highways.
Castaways absent player, 
In limbos mindless game.
A migrant hobo, 
Leaving reality's seasonal,
Venues behind.
God's harvest lies beyond,
In glories golden fields.
No lyrics express liberation’s,
Abandonment, freedoms release,
From pains well worn shell.
Lifted above griefs, loving kindred,
Peal away regrets many veils,
Layer by layer exposing,
Destiny's beauty in misty hews. 
A new adventure begins,
On horizons, magnificent canvas,
Behold a grand expanse.
A spirit soars, following an
Everlasting light.
It is peace without expression, 
Mankind’s ultimate fulfillment,
And loves final achievement.
Celebrations joy receives salvation's, 
Lost lamb.
In hymens sacred choir he'll join in,
Playing God's gospel, angel's voices,
Are raised in praise.
Strumming at his best, 
Within divinities,
Heavenly band.
Sweet melodies song echoes, 
Beneath stars shinning light.
The music man smiles,
 I've finally come home at last.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

King Of The Fallen

King Of The Fallen



Look upon the king.See his proud stance,his gentle eyes,and his charming smile.Once the prince looked over by and loved by everyone,no one knowing his true self.
See his proud stance,he stands and look down on people.
His gentle eye show nothing more then lies.
Such a caring smiling he uses to massacre thousands.
Let him rule your mind but keep your heart
Let him judge over you but never about you
Let him rain cruelty over but may you remain pure
Look upon my king see his monarchy shatter before his eye's,as the evil he has done catch up to him.His children taken,his wife's broken,and his castle destroyed.
Look at the prince who was loved,look at the king who was feared,looks at the king who is now fallen into despair.
Look upon the king.See his proud stance,his gentle eye and charming smile.
See his proud stance as he looked on down on the weak.
See his gentle eye's,see the lies that spur in them.
See his charming smile,like a wicked prince ready to tangle you up and put your out of your mind..
He has fallen
He is broken
He was taken
He is now in despair
He has ruled your mind,now his heart is gone.
He has judged you,now is being judged for himself of himself.
He has rain cruelty over you,now he is impure and Ingenta.
Look he's kingdom has fell and now the deed's of his injustice has ensnared him.
Look his leg's broken.
Look his eye's have been gouged.
Look his smile has been cut.
Look at his wives they are broken.
Look at they children are taken without words of appease.
And his home is destroy in flames.
Look upon the the fallen king,no tears shall fall from his eye's only the blood from his mouth,and the words of death.
Fare thee well world,this game of cat and mouse,and of death and life.How I enjoyed it to the fullest,but now my home is in fired my children taken my wives broken and my body destroyed.This must be punishment for being the King of the Fallen.

Copyright © Marcedies Rhodes | Year Posted 2012

Details | I do not know? | |

For Bruce Springsteen

for bruce springsteen...


it was a rain-swept monsoon day

way back then, so many moons away

when i felt the music strumming in my veins

setting me free like a runaway horse without any reins

you sang of simple truths, 

your verse spoke to people just like me

in my lonely, wasted, and desolately quiet night

as you screamed out tragic human wrongs, and of everyone's plight

'bobby jean' spoke to me

of that girl down the street

glimpses of whom, we as innocents would furtively meet

and 'the river' that flowed through my ever-barren heart

led me down further roads of thunder

when slowly i finally learnt that the hardest part was fighting on

and never to surrender

to the hard-luck dreams that were born to run

while i danced in the dark 

with memories vivid and stark

even as i whined like that dog who for forever lost his howling bark

and then a 'human touch' came along

and 'better days' seemed real, not just words in a song

and still you sang and swayed and spoke straight into my unseeing eyes

as gardens of secrets were opened, and as your fist punched the skies

in an anger that i too felt and in whose cauldron i too burned

as we saw murder get incorporated, while on its wobbly axis, our fragile world apathetically turned

and then suddenly i was told that i was all grown up

working on a highway of scattered ideals

and absolving myself by sprinkling some coins in a waiting cup

well, after all these years of walking along so many a thorny road

with an armour of your verse covering me, even as i hear them taunt me and even as they continue to goad

but now i can feel myself fading away, into the bleakness of this coming night

just like the ghost of that old tom joad...

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Epic | |

Heavy Metal Music

Listening to heavy metal music is so awesome, it's like I'm in a mosh pit. It's also as if
I'm at an underground concert in New york City, on Saturday nights. When I'm listening to
a lot of metal music, it's like being in a giant pit of inferno. I can feel the adrenaline
through my brainwaves. And when I listen to the music, I also feel the rush throughout my
veins. If there's a heavy metal concert was in town, this is going to be like an
underground concert for all of the underdogs where the mayhem is really happening. The
guitars, the amps, drums, and the bands; they're all very entertaining. I put in a heavy
metal music CD in a CD player, I press "play," and when the music plays, it will be like a
headbangers festival in North Hollywood, California. And with a lot of heavy metal albums
that I were to own, this will be like a real house party.

Copyright © Brashard Bursey | Year Posted 2011

Details | Lyric | |

Umid

Umidin topragi  sevgi
Ofkem olsa  gozyasi
Tufan  olsa sondurse
Bitmeyen yanginini anilarin

Umidim sevginin atesi
Hikayesi anlatmakla  bitmez
Uyanirim kaygilanirima
Duslerim seni her gece 

Korkmadan yilmadan
Dusunurum yolunu
Duydukca adini uzaktan
Aglar yanarim her gece

Dalgalar ve ruzgarlar 
Ve bitmeyen yagmurlar
Yine kosarim umide
Nefesim aglatir beni
Dogarim yeniden umide

Umidin hayalinde sensiz
Yasarim gunahlarimi
Sesizligin olumunde
Sensiz her gece 

Kul olan agacim yeserse

Copyright © reyhan yucebay | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme | |

A Faerie Box Quest

Nattie and Thomas had left home
In search of the magic Portal,
And there find: Vilenist, a song,
Faerie dust--to save the mortals.

"There it is, Nattie! I can see it!"
Screamed Thomas with so much delight,
Not seeing the stream, fell in it.
"You can swim when everything's right!"

Scolded Nattie, "But now, let's go!"
Then she helped Thomas from the cool stream.
They followed the path to the glow
From the Portal refracting beam.

"Okay. This is it...you ready?"
"Yes,  Nattie. She needs us! Let's jump!"
Jump they did. But, not quite steady
Landing on a toadstool...KER--THUMP!

"Ouch! Get off my head!", cried Toadstool.
"Why don't you watch where you're going?"
Scuff'ling to their feet--Nattie, cool--
Said, "We're sorry! No need blowing!

"We didn't mean to land on you."
"Well...all right then...Am I bleeding?!"
Gigg'ling, Nattie said, "Not a bruise!"
"I'm Larch Bolete! Your names...Seedling?"

I'm Nattie...Thomas, my brother.
And we're here to see Vilenist.
Can you tell which way or other
We need to go: North, South, West, East?"

"Gladly my dear, but do take care.
Night is coming--strange things about--
If you must go, then East is where
She'll be...Your hearts must be quite stout!"

With smiles and thank you, East they went.
Night had come, but their path was bright.
"WOW! Look, Nattie! Magnificient!
Everything glows--You see this, right?"

"Yes, Thomas, but do you see"--"NAT!!"
Fluid rainbows--quicker than quick!
Spark'ling colours--this way and that!
And music that changed with each click!

Before they could say one more thing,
The most beautiful Rainbow Fae
Was playing harmonics on strings
Of her violin--that could fly!

She was colours and ice crystals.
She moved like the air and could change.
Her hair, rainbow-streaked--a minstrel
Whose music healed, saved, spoke through planes.

"Nattie Grace snd Thomas, you're here!
I've been expecting you, my dear.
There isn't much time, but don't fear,
I have what you came for quite near."

Vilenist, then presented two
Items: a simple box of Great Oak Wood,
And a small twinkling jar of blue,
With instructions, they understood.

"In this box, is the song you seek.
You mustn't look!  You mustn't peek!
To save your mortals so unique.
This jar: Faerie Dust--for each cheek."

She took them to the Portal base
And blessed them both as they passed through
With a song and faerie dust face,
"Where you believe there is magic...you will find it."

deborah burch©
5/27/2012 

  *Support Fairybox.org

Copyright © Deborah Burch | Year Posted 2012

Details | Epic | |

Teenage Love 14: Teen Couples of the 1970s

The 1970s were the grooviest years for all of the teenage lovebirds-turned-married adults.
Young love has still been among all of the then-teen couples since the day disco music was
born. It seems that when two young people (a teen boy-turned-man and a teen
girl-turned-grown woman) first met while attending at summer camp, they were meant to have
been together. And when they met back in either middle school or high school, it was love
at first sight for them. Back in the 1970s, including the year 1975, all teen lovebirds
had gone to the movies at various movie theaters, listened to a lot of  music (pop, rock
and roll, rhythm and blues, and disco) gone out to eat, that kinda stuff. Their outfits
were very awesome back in the day, especially when the young boys-turned-men and the young
girls-turned-women had afros and had been wearing bell-bottoms and stuff. What was so
great about young love back in the 1970s was when these two young lovers had always been
serious with each other, especially when they had made a promise not to have ever cheated
on each other with other people, even if this guy was as attractive as he was and this
girl was also as attractive as she was. It looks like love has never taken its tolls on
everyone, not even their mothers and their fathers. This is starting to look like an
episode of "Happy Days," which was a great TV show with Henry Winkler. That was very
interesting. And even when all of the then-teenage lovebirds were still together, all teen
idols were in the Hollywood, California, scene, that included Erin Murphy, Donny Osmond,
and Melissa Sue
Anderson. Young love back in the 1970s was also when "The Brady Bunch" was on the air. And
if this type of young love keeps growing and growing, even before the 22nd century,
there's no telling what beautiful thing might happen next.

Copyright © Brashard Bursey | Year Posted 2011

Details | Epic | |

Teenage Love 12: Teenage Lovers of the 1950s

It was the 1950s and all teen lovebirds back in the day were the greatest couples in
America. These people were way before all people who were born in the 1980s were born,
even me. It seems that both teen lovebirds (a teen boy-turned elderly man and a teen
girl-turned elderly woman) fell completely in love with each other when they were in
middle school or high school, even when doo-wop music and rock and roll music were born.
It looks like all of the then-teenage lovebirds had a great time back in the day. In
reference to teen couples dating back in the 1950s (including the year 1954), they went to
a drive-in movie, ate at a diner, they went to see a full moon in classic cars, that kinda
stuff. These dates were way before the first cell phone was invented, MTV made its TV
channel debut, and before computers were invented. On top of all that, both of the
then-young lovebirds used to listen to their favorite love songs, like, "Baby, Baby" by
Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers, "Can't Help Falling In Love" by the late Elvis Presley,
Great Balls of Fire" by Jerry Lee Lewis, and "Will You Love Me Tomorrow" by the Four
Seasons and the Shirelles. Their parents were happy that their teens were dating back in
the day, especially when their parents (the mothers and the fathers) back in the 1950s
found out that they were dating. And now that they're not teenagers anymore and even if
they stay together as a married couple, they'll tell their grandchildren about the day
these two lovebirds have met and fell completely in love.

Copyright © Brashard Bursey | Year Posted 2011

Details | Than-Bauk | |

My Inner BOSS

Take my hand and walk with me, 
ill show you side of a world that you never seen. 
Ill show you where its ends meat and where gangsters meet,
this is where all the goons come out to play and steal the street. 

No one goes into my hood,
we done really care for you angry mood.
Music will blare everywhere around out street,
it's always dark and you cant see anything but peoples feet.

Your eyes open up so wide and a smile appears on your face,
you tell me you love this part of my village, and your heart stands no chance.
You ask me if you can stay with me and i answer, "ill need some more protection for you,
and make it seem like i had nothing to do.

It is my hood, don't get me wrong, i protect what i love with all my heart,
even if it means to kill one of my own demons for you, and put you as the start.
You walk me out to the streets where every one is dancing to the blaring music, to give me another chance,
we walk out onto the floor and begin to move your body in a way i never seen before, than you lean to me and ask, "would you like to dance"?



Dedicated to: Esther Baleva! 
PS: My one and only Angel. I Love Her!

Copyright © Roman Chebukin | Year Posted 2012