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Music Metaphor Poems | Metaphor Poems About Music

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

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Details | Free verse |

Musical Torment - The Infamous Masterpieces

Torturing me with touches
I feel the sting of hardened and lasting lust
Touches not of mortal fingers,
But Halloween-haloed strings composed by musicians of mystery
Pressing upon my back--yes! A searing, yet melodi-errotic strike
All upon me, yet far from me...

Leave me not in the judgement of my own scrambling feelings
Rest not away as I hold my hands out in the dark
Deathly dances are visions heaven-bound for the duo--
Yet for the solo- a blank, useless measure...

The pulsing silence of amateur-stitched love rattles me
Making rhythms giggle in my mind
Intervals of idiocy tormenting all reason
Truly an agonizing, but for others--minor--prison
Is the smile that helped design those strings
Those strings that pluck upon my spine
Controlling me in a dark place stuck between tunes and time

Why are your hands so cold when you play those piano keys?
Why are your lungs so eroded with the pride that taints the songs you sing?
Why have the rhythms gone awry, and why does your apathetic dissonance thrive?

And tell me… through it all…
As you compose the rise and fall…
Why is all this destruction you created so vibrantly alive?


Details | Free verse |

Groundswell Girl - Named by JB

Enter a storybook tale
Where I can be 
The heroine you hail
Lucid dreams of soft reflection
A touch heated with lust and desired protection
A breathe a gasp as we succeed 
Join the fairytale with me
Valiant night within dark eyes
the right movement and I make them shine
like moonlight on the steamy hot spring
care to follow for a little dip with me
Trailing like the water at my fingertips
Grasp me around my hips
As close as the breeze on my skin 
Whisper lies as I let you in 
Lips mumbling up my thighs
bare heart exposed to the sky 
fire burning in my veins
Am I a mistress of this lust or simply a slave
Trembling with desire
Take me till we've lost count of the hours
enter this storybook tale
Where I can be the heroine you hail


Details | Couplet |

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.




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


Details | Lyric |

KILL A BEAT 2

I bring hit after hit like a boxer
You haters' inconsistent
Everybody's on the same vibe
Mine's kinda' different
Verse hot, hook hot--
I'm gon' sellout soon as I drop
Verse hot, hook hot--
I'm gon' sellout soon as I drop

Minor in poetry, fine-arts major

Doctor goon on deck, call this a fear-factor

I'm going in, but I ain't got no curfew

I son a lot of you, it's like I birth you

Got a lot of verses, but this ain't a Bible

Fallout when you hear this, I ain't liable

Ain't talking 'bout tearing, but the beats R.I.P

Didn't sell a lot of tracks, but I got D.O.E

Put you up on game, my hustle's M.O.E

Music over everything, ain't moving 'D'

I got cash like the bank, I sell CD's

Smells funny, tickled my nose, I might sneeze

You would think I'm water, the way I flow

I'm just like some dynamite, bound to blow

Act like you're in a recliner, lay back

If I ain't on fire, then why they say that?

Feature, feature, can I get a feature

So far ahead I sit on competition--bleacher

My Raps' like a bunch of apartment buildings, complex

Got chicks on my jock', ain't talking 'bout sex

I'm so different, it's magnificent

Haters want me to fall, but that's not how the script went

Thing's fishy, I ain't gettin' caught in that net

Just killed the beat, without breaking a sweat


Details | Personification |

Treasure of My Heart

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

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

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

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

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


Details | Rhyme |

PLAY-BOY 1

You know why I run game? It's 'cause I'm a player
I'm the night in shining armor, she's a dragon, I'm gon' slay her
That means when I beat it up, I'm gonna kill it
Tell her keep our business to herself, don't spill it
Can't follow directions, then it's on to the next
Hope you get the message, not talking 'bout a text

I sleep with more chicks than a night-gown

Without 'em I'm like a sentence with no noun

For those who don't know that means incomplete

It's a race to get 'em first, I gotta' compete

They wanna be on the team, tryin' to make the cut

True player, show no feelings, keep 'em in a shell, walnut

Females fill my atmosphere, they mean the world to me

I got damsels galore, it's always plural with me

Got gangs of chicks, which one should I bang

They're steady in my face, sort of like some bangs

Hate when they try to lock me down, I'm not in jail

She starts talking 'bout marriage, then I'm gonna bail

Sometimes I need my space, like a vacant lot

I hate being congested, like a nose filled with snot

Hey, stop bugging me, you startin' to act like a knat

Before you go, give me head, I need it like a hat


Details | Lyric |

DANCE

A young novice in a new town
where He didn't know a soul
His head was spinning so fast
he just wanted to do his role

Oh.. it's hard to be the rookie
where every single thing is new
Stepped outside the boundaries 
'cause he really didn't have a clue

He was living for the weekend
time to finally relax and unwind
Jumping off the conveyer belt
where he'd been running blind

Now he's off to the county dance
feels like the whole town is there
But on this turf he's comfortable
and pretty girls are everywhere

Not a shy bone is in his body
one by one he takes their hand
Feels like Heaven in this moment
he's loving this thumping band

You talk about total cluelessness
he thought the night was going well
One boy didn't like his girl chasing 
now his eye is starting to swell

He never thought about social politics
wow, was that a huge mistake
Be careful how you compliment
or next bones he might just break

Friend, when your new in the city
but careful who you romance
Those pretty girls might be taken
and not just by your dance!

*The Town is Poetry Soup.  The Dance is the exchange of comments.  The black eye was because the new writer didn't know all the politics going on here.  More details.. You'll have to read between the lines :)

Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
Contest Name: Today's Poem


By: Dave Wood


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.


Details | Rhyme |

STASHING CASH 2

Where I'm from we don't do debts, fronts, or take tabs
They don't understand nothing but stashing cash
Put that money on the head, you don't need a mask
They don't understand nothing but stashing cash
How is a broke fool gon' try and smash
They don't understand nothing but stashing cash

Money on my mind like bread on a sandwich

I run the city, they're the lights, I'm the switch

I stand for what's mine, never see me slip and fall

I'm runnin' the race, you're a baby with a slow crawl

My cash stay on point, like a sharpened pencil

Try 'n' copy my style, you gon' need mo' than a stencil

I don't be's in the trap, buy my workers put-in overtime

Feds can't catch me, never see me committin' crime

That's why from time to time I shoot 'em a raise

And tell 'em to stash cash for those rainy days

If money talk, then there's nothing to say

If B.S walk, none of ya' fools can stay

My money talkin' for me, betta' yet, it's in a conversation

Ya' look like money; make money, nice observation

They say the love of money's the root of all evil

So how much money will it take to really love people


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