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Music Night Poems | Night Poems About Music

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

Details | Imagism |


Some night you'll wake before morning
Sweatin to the oldies she will sing.
She'll make you think you're in Heaven...
Long enough to tell you ANYTHING...

And you'll believe her.

Some night you'll wake up hearing voices
Sweatin to the oldies of here life.
She'll never say you're in Heaven.
Or tell you you've been sleeping with the Devil's Wife.

She'll never tell you, you've been sleeping with the Devil's wife.

But you will KNOW.
You will know.

That's when you'll need her.
That's when you'll love her the most.
That's when you will die.
Sleeping with the Devil's wife.

That's when you will die.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa ---hear the song and First take Video on Youtube, search for vee bdosa then select SLEEPING WITH THE DEVILS WIFE. One of my personal favorites, more poetry than song.

Details | Free verse |

Night Poem

It waits...
A prickle about to lodge
In the heart of a Mighty Light

Above the low-dipped setting sun
The Knightly Night prepares to come

To lift me like a rising fog
Up to greet the countless stars -
That twinkle at a Sun's descent.

The horizon painted with lullaby
Of colours and their somber tune
Day's bed is laid behind blue mountains
And quietly it goes to sleep.

Inside the womb of a Sleeping Day
Begins a fierce protest 
of dreaming thoughts
Now stirred awake.

Then out of the thick and cluster
And whatever dangers of flight await
Newborn wings of thought emerge
And rise and rise and rise
Captured by the winds of Night -

To wander heights
To kiss the skies
To dance to the gentle humming
Of spirit drums -
Wings beating
A duet with the breeze.

So when day comes breaking through
Dawn is greeted by what was writ
At the festival of it's eve.

With merriment's ink: 
A Kiss; 
A dance; 
A song etched deep: 
Art carved out of sky.

Title: Night Poem

Details | Prose Poetry |

Collecting the Cracks that Bleed Through My Voice.

We broke in two and it amused him that I was still counting...

I could hear the night whisper beyond his ears, the bed we lay ourselves down upon and
passion was considerate when his mind let go....

she was direct and unforgiving and I...

I could listen to the tumbling of my heart for ages and I collected music as my lips split
in half, it was only to kiss him, you see, only to allow him to know...

how I bled.

I tasted myself as the night wore on, exhausted yet hungry for his arms, I studied my own
in the afternoon, multiplied my freckles and wondered if my child would be ashamed of the
scars that decorated my skin, prayed she would never know how years could bite, so I
reached for him when the clouds became cold and I became...


as I frightened myself to death in the realization that we....

were still so alive.

The ground we walked on spoke of faults and mistakes, there were cracks in the earth yet
my hand still held his, he was clueless and I was silent but we slept well, he and I,
after passion erupted and the sky split...

when the clouds collected my music and rain sang, just to show him, how the days

Details | Lyric |


I Still go to that same park, down that same lonely street
I Still sit on that same bench, under that same tree
That one where I carved our initials, in a heart on the bark
That night when we kissed and you gave me your heart

I Still remember that night, when we thought we were alone
I Still see how you looked, when you smelled his cologne
That man passing by, holding his wifes hand
That night when we made love, right there in the sand

I Still have these memories, of holding your hand
I Still have your picture, beside my bed on the stand
That one with your tears, that I made fall from your eyes
That night when I broke your heart, and told you those lies

I still can't believe, that I made you go away
Cause I still see you in the mirror, when the sun shines it's ray
That mirror on the dresser, yes your brush is still there
That one that you'd use, each night on your long flowing hair

Oh! darling I still love you, Yes I still love you
And I know when my life's over, darling I know I still will

Details | Lyric |

The Sex Confessions

The Bed
Your Mouth
My Touch
Our Lips

It’s a fever
In the night


Desecrated and damned together
Desecrated and damned forever
One naked flesh, we’ll die together
One naked flesh, making love forever

The Flame
Your Cries
My Salt
Our Wounds

It’s a fever
In the night 


Desecrated and damned together
Desecrated and damned forever
One naked flesh, we’ll die together
One naked flesh, making love forever

The Earth
Your Rain
My Seed
Our Life

It’s a fever
In the night 


Desecrated and damned together
Desecrated and damned forever
One naked flesh, we’ll die together
One naked flesh, making love forever

Of Love

Your  Love
My Love
Our Love

It’s a fever
In the night 


Desecrated and damned together
Desecrated and damned forever
One naked flesh, we’ll die together
One naked flesh, making love forever

Details | Free verse |


Char- Sun On the night of the charred sun a male child is born The Indians called the harvest Moon a charred sun This became the child’s name as he grew in wisdom He was not a warrior he was born to be a healer Char sun grew into a very strong spiritual man When he was small, a white man had given him a flute He told Char sun if he learned to play it, sweet music would arise All of nature’s living things would come to sit at his feet He would sneak off into the woods for hours at a time practicing One night Char sun saw the same Moon he was born under A voice began to speak to him and a fire entered him The voice told him to play your gift will lead you His fingers flew across the flute and the music was sweet Coming from the forest were the deer, squirrels, eagles and bears The rest of the tribe heard the music and began pouring into the forest Curious about where the sweet music was coming from and why Arriving upon such as seen the chief bent down and knelt on one knee The remainder of the tribe slowly dropped one by one to their knees For Char sun has become the holy man within the tribe The animals that follow him carry the spirits of our ancestors The chief stands to his feet and declares “This night Char sun Has become our holy man called by the great king of the sky The song of their tribe began to rise, paying homage to the king Our winters will be fruitful and our land will prosper cried the chief Char son was born to guide us into the holy lands Each warrior here will follow and protect him The buffalo will run and our bellies will be full Our time of famine has been broken through the gift Of Char sun Carole Cookie Arnold Constance La France’s Contest Tell His Story

Details | Narrative |

The Singer (Narrative Dialogue)

The singer looks at the now empty stage
His voice guarded deep in his warm throat
Shielded by a high neck shirt he wore
Singing with passion from down within
Rehearsing day and night until it’s right
Blended rhythms and notes run the scales
Clinging in smoky night clubs like a shadow
Getting your pay with crumbled dollar bills
Go from gig to gig if it makes you whole
Your songs will make them dance and spin
Like a magic spell being cast far and wide
Allow your words to heal wounds and scars
And when you have earned your keep
Collect the spoils from your conquest sweet
Gobbled champagne and fancy caviars
And your heart beats crashed musical chart
Find the singer who was once loved
The brilliant heart that once lived in joy
Consider yourself a singer without a heart
Who has traded his soul from the start
As it ends the conquest will lose its spark
Come to your senses and stop this slide
You may be witted and sharp as a tack
Don’t get eluded and slip—stay on track

Comments:  This is a narrative dialogue poem.  It sets the stage one may 
probably find in a conflicting situation. It develops into a complication, reaches a 
crisis then falls into a resolution.  It displays connections, alienation, 
disconnections, and a turning point where a change takes place between a 
protagonist and antagonist. The ending brings about a resolution after a 
dramatic point has been reached.  Give it a try one day, and I will give it a review 
for you.  It must be very interesting and relates to real life.

Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) |


if your heartbeat could ponder to fathom mine what a miracle it would be

if your hand could reach out to encircle mine what a miracle it would be

if your sweet lips could sing like honeydew for my soul what a miracle it would be

if an audition could be won for a vacation cruise with you what a miracle it would be

baby, you got the goods and baby you got the looks, style, and five star plus quality!

we'd boogie on the dance floo, find our love power to score for the disco dance of our

excited hearts bounce as one night time ecstatic movements light up the disco ball up high

cause we're meant to be the miracle come true

rave reviews for us as a couple of the night on the dance floor

baby, what a miracle you and me would be entwined!

Details | Prose Poetry |

Nineteen fable

 Nineteen fable 
Nineteen fable 
MUSICK NONnude Review 
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 
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 | Rhyme |

Harlem Blues !

While writing about the History of Jazz Music in verse , I got the idea for composing this 
fictitious poem ! I hope the readers will like it ! 

            Harlem Blues !

Lingering perfumes float through the night air ,
Life was a drudgery for him and no one cared !
With neon lights blinking and flashing every-
where !
The jazz band in the saloon played a soft tune ,
And the lady there sang the blues and also 
crooned ! 
Now the solitude of the night gets to him ,
As he drops down into a corner seat where lights
are rather dim !
Signals the waiter as he lights his cigar ,
And orders a large whiskey and soda , having 
come down so far !
He remains enthralled by the lone singer’s
voice ,
He must spend this ‘blue night’ all alone , -
since he had no other choice !
The singer now comes pretty close to him ,
And he could see her white teeth dazzle and
gleam !
But when he looked into those dark eye lashes , -
Sad memories form the past before his eyes 
flashes !

He had been a clarinet player of some renown ,
But his wife couldn’t tolerate its piping sound !
His habit of playing his pipe at mid-night hours ,
Made her to desert him for their marriage had 
gone sour !
The blue notes in the saloon soon comes to an 
end ,
But the music goes on simply to entertain !
The singer now invites this loner to her room ,
He accompanies - trying to forget his loneliness
and gloom !
She pours out two drinks in her upstairs room ,
And places his head gently between her bosom , -
Which makes him to swoon !
The ‘blue notes’ still plays on in his mind ,
It is then when she pulls out a clarinet form
behind !
Seeing him surprised - she laughs out loud ,
He stares at the clarinet with misgiving and doubt !
“Don’t worry darling I had met you wife ,
She had shown me your picture and told me about
your life !
From my childhood days I had loved the clarinet ,
It turns me on before I go to bed ! 
So play the pipe gently as I get into my slip-on ,
And we shall make love right into the morn !”
He picked up the clarinet and played ‘the blues’ 
so tender and so light , -
The music echoed through the lonely Harlem 
night....... !
                                          - Raj Nandy
                                            New Delhi