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Rhyme Music Poems | Rhyme Poems About Music

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

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Wanderlust-Minstrel Of Midnight

My existence strives with my persistence to acclimate.
This life was my choice, my superior voice fetched my fate.

In self promotion, harvesting devotion, I strummed this guitar.
Walking with bare feet, cemented street, a Hollywood star.

Acoustically serenading, never fading, macabre personification.
Indulging the classes, entertaining the masses, justification.

Wickedly showing where ever I am going, righteous wanderlust.
Talented troubadour, seeking more, satisfaction is a must.

Significant each strum, audiences comes, a park bench is the stage.
With words I capture sensational rapture, mysterious sage.

Singing poetry out loud, exceptionally proud, a vagrant.
Presences that lingers in the air when I'm no longer there, fragrant.

Theatrical ceremony, only a memory come the birth of the morning.
Minstrel of midnight, when timing is right, I leave with no warning.

For Contest: Wanderlust
Host: Nette Onclaud
Name: Casarah Nance
Date: 08-11-2014

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Voices in my head

I see things in my dreams
Aliens then screams
Government, terrorists, spies
Ghosts, ghouls, monsters, lies
They are coming in my sleep
I can’t scream, not a peep
Fireants in my brain
My voices make it plain
Life isn’t as it seems

I ain’t gonna lie
I got problems
Don’t deny
Should be locked up
Outta my mind
I know I’m crazy
But maybe that’s just me
Don’t judge me by the outside
See inside I’m terrified

Locked my heart threw away the key
Locked it up so they can’t see
Its breaking loose
Can’t set it free
Can’t keep it close
Can’t let it be
I try to find my sanity
But somehow that’s just not me
My brain thinks differently

I ain’t gonna lie
I got problems
Don’t deny
Should be locked up
Outta my mind
I know I’m crazy
But maybe that’s just me
Don’t judge me by the outside
See inside I’m terrified

Others see a different world
Without the fear of dreams unfurled
Broken hearts, shattered screams
My insanity becomes a reality
That only I can see
My reality is the insanity
Deep inside of me
Until I set it free
I will never see with clarity

I ain’t gonna lie
I got problems
Don’t deny
Should be locked up
Outta my mind
I know I’m crazy
But maybe that’s just me
Don’t judge me by the outside
See inside I’m terrified

I just gotta set it free
I just gotta be me
The world wants me to hide
They just gotta realize
That I am truly crazy
And really that’s just me
I am finally set free
To find my sanity
In insanity

I ain’t gonna lie
I got problems
Don’t deny
Should be locked up
Outta my mind
I know I’m crazy
And I know that’s just me
Don’t judge me by the outside
See inside I’m finally alive

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I hear much joy in the music,
View elation in the dance
Feel happiness in the laughter,
Soulful spirit in poetic romance.

I feel love in the language
Swelling in my heart.
Reverence for God and Goddess
In beloved families far apart.

I love the customs and the people
As they celebrate each day
Living life to the fullest
In their honor I wish to pray

That I may learn to be as humble
As loving and as kind,
To be blessed by elder wisdom
In every senior that I find.

This is a gift to give my children
To open their sleepy little eyes.
To see the value in rejoicing,
To reach for stars up in the skies.

When they learn this knowledge 
To listen well to the sages,
They will know of sacred secrets
Handed down through the ages.

© 2014 Connie Marcum Wong

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Cover Band

I've heard all these great songs before
Always getting me out on the dance floor
The rhyme and rhythm is so out of sight
Making me want to take you home tonight

All are well written, and sing to the ear
Every note perfect, polished and clear
We sing along, for we all know the tune
Still getting all the young ladies to swoon

Play something fresh, not scratched and old
Make it original, dynamic and bold
Make it a favorite, the new song that I love
Write me a winner one you are proud of

Boy, I really dig the way that you sing
But I'd much rather, hear the real thing

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Music at Midnight

His home is beneath the theater stage Disfigured, he remains within his cage Listening to melodies played onstage Fills him with loneliness, not rage Once a fine actor, the Phantom awaits midnight To sing alone, so fear he won’t incite For the “garish light of day” he finds too bright When he hears Christine sing, he bemoans his plight Hours pass until midnight when the theater’s empty And he lays his hands on each piano key Stroking them as he would her face on the marquis But only at midnight is his soul set free What would Christine think if she saw his face He senses the need his feelings to encase As much as he longs for her tender embrace He fears she would just leave him in disgrace Midnight, midnight, he awaits patiently So he can finally perform shamelessly This midnight ritual he enacts faithfully Singing to a woman he’d love undyingly He croons sadly, wishing for her ovation Absorbing the power of each note’s vibration Dreaming one day he’ll submit to temptation And reveal himself to discover her elation
* Based on the Broadway play “Phantom of the Opera” and its powerful song, “Music of the Night.” Most plays end just before midnight. “Garish light of day” is a line from the song. * Poem written Jun 6, 2014

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Inspired by Old Time Rock & Roll by Bob Seger & The Silver Bullet Band 1978 album Stranger In Town
It gets the heart pumping Like a drum, a tap tap is thumping Innocent days we were young, heart were pure and pure was sung. Records spin, sweet smelling vinyl. I won't change, and that's final. The scratch of the needle hums, With every word, peace comes. I may be old fashioned, I know, But words do soothe the soul. The body moves in its own beat, Rhythm tap taps my feet. Rock and roll will always be heard, For it was a vision that'll never get blurred. For Contest: Rock N' Roll Date: 11-21-2014

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In the magical forest

For Rogers contest, magical forest

In the magical forest

It was on a lovely, mystic night
Full moon was shining big and bright
The trees they glistened neath the moon
I strode there whistling a happy tune
There was so much beauty in this place
This magical forest filled with grace
As the stars they twinkled in the sky
This night it raised my spirits high

I heard the sound of a mystic flute
A lovely sound I’ll not refute
As I came across this clearing where
I had no choice but to stand and stare
There were elves and fairies, Goblins too 
And they could dance, I’m telling you
As the forest folk all gathered round
And from this scene such joy they found

The bears were there, the foxes too
They formed a band with a kangaroo
A couple of Dingo’s, and a mouse
It was like a kind of open house
Everyone did sing a song
As the mike it went around the throng
Then I awoke, it was a dream!
But oh, it was a lovely theme.

11 March 2014 @ 0500hrs.

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In waters’ calm leisure, mellow tides drift Along back strides that always find their sway, The lighter blues, the deeper jades, that sift Glimmers of mollusks that twinkle and play. From the swoon of bay when dusk slowly cranes Pewter the wavelets, darker steel the shore; Above, one bold and yellow stripe explores To jiggle in a curdled breeze and spills A frothy crest with waltzes soon to fade Before moon comes in her gathering wade. Notes I hold, on the ocean waves’ last set A gurgling never the same every time That I might grow thirsty and soon forget Salty ripples forming different chirps Never out of waves' hums in dancing flips. Sheri Fresonke Harper's Out Of Water Contest

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I Hear Guitars a' Calling

I hear guitars a’ calling in the gloaming’s final fling When sinking suns relay their flames to fairies on the wing Igniting one by one the jewels of midnight’s diamond blaze As day becomes a yawning ash beneath a starry gaze. I hear guitars a’ calling from the clouds within the skies, With tunes which flow as purple drops from sad and weepy eyes Of silent speaking troubled souls who stand alone in grief, But hold the vastness of the stars within a trembling leaf. I hear guitars a’ calling from the beat beneath her breast, The murmur throbs of passion and a sensuous unrest That rumbles deep in silent woods before the raging storm And splits the air in morning meadows bursting green with corn. I hear guitars a’ calling in the gentle splashing rain, Which summons with a soothing purr upon my window pane And conjures up a childhood dream within a vagrant breeze Entwining me in cryptic webs of misty vortices. I hear guitars a’ calling from the waves on distant shores; They’re crashing out their monody upon the mystic oars Of phantom ships within the dawn and midnight caravels, A’ sail on seas of raven wings to moonlit citadels. I hear guitars a’ calling in the morning’s reveilles; They’re pouring fires in the skies and burning up the seas, While waking flowers in the fields and setting trees ablaze, And closing one by one the eyes of midnight’s starry gaze. I hear guitars a’ calling from the deserts of my mind; They’re howling of a hollow land adrift on empty time Where pathless sands are blazing hot, the sun is standing high, A thirsting dog is barking faint’ with tongue that’s long and dry.

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One With Her Music

Young lady, dark eyes smiling, gazes soft upon her dreams. She holds violin, her companion, near as Chopin’s notes surround her, resonating in her soul, splendor’s refrain. As music comes alive, nimble fingers wake, restless to float in passionate motion on waiting bow, no worry or thought to precision or mechanics. She, spirited girl, creates in light of love, lifting her gift from God, which cannot be bought; she understands - blood and breath flow, her energy elates, great to enlightened ears and hearts of all who listen...admire, flawless to those who know the meaning of extraordinary - a priceless gift shared, passion spreading like a burning fire. Young lady, virtuoso, dark eyes smiling brighter each day, lives her dreams. She and music are one joyous heart beating.

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A New Day

Her grateful kiss moistens the dawn, raised arms embrace the sun. A light like fire burns for all time, a new day has begun. When Sunday morning’s church bell chimed, brisk steps tapped with the song. Gray walls of stone held prayers within, stained glass cast shadows long. She stood hunched low prisoned by sin, carved statues froze her feet. A face of slate hid darkest fears, her path walked in defeat. A voice of hope from prayer spoke clear, love shined from grace unbound. With arms held high and knees bent low, soul praised without a sound. On high, she saw gold haloes glow and wings spanning blue sky. This Sunday morn behind church doors, to hate she said goodbye. With love, each new day to explore becomes a welcomed gift. The world around her is her church, God’s beauty does uplift! Heavenly song floats from high perch, the birds know all too well God’s love brought forth a melody from Sunday’s old church bell. Then when the bells toll solemnly, she’ll rise to a new song; bell’s chime will call to other souls as new days come along. for Isaiah's Interlocking Rhyme Contest, 1/24/15

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The Man in the Wilderness

Feeling like a lodger
In my own home
Thankful for my music
And my new found roam

Families and communities
They are just so hard to find
But in April 2009
I found the most precious kind

I found the name amusing
So the button i clicked on to see
The layout was very inviting
Like an open door should be

For in a matter of minutes
On first uploading a poem
This Highlander was content
He had found a welcome home

So many lovely writers
Poets who share their bless
No longer this Scotsman is
The Man in the Wilderness

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Flowers of the Curious Mind

Flowers of the Curious Mind

Sent were flowers of the curious mind
 following echoes of Cantu's muse
No curses , words grossly unkind
 insults hidden deeply in clever ruse

Dare not stab sweet music of mortal man
 with deeds sordidly played tho' sweet
Transgress not Nature's surviving plan
 with arrogant contempt born of defeat

Embrace life's melody as a lost friend
 dancing within it's tune so fine
Live, live gloriously until life's end
 drink, drink richly of it's finest wine!


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Old Faithful

No, not a geyser,
Not a woman,
Old faithful sits
Patiently in my kitchen,
Awaiting my need for her

Old faithful is an organ,
Rich velvety tones
Growls when I ask her
Or spits, or even moans...

What a companion
She does make
No need for deception,
No room for fake...

She's gotten me through,
Many a rough time
She asks no questions
She's guilty of no crime

Her teeth, bared...
Ready to rock
She needs no food,
She reads no clock

She takes me away
On many a mystic trip
As we soar together
Joined at the hip

So keep your guitars,
Your trumpets, your bass
This girl is mine,
Smiling toothy face.

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The Songs & The Makers

My soul understood Lynyrd Skynyrd
Like Ronnie I had monkeys to
Just simple boys chasing life’s joys
With our needles playing our blues

My soul understood Pink Floyd
For I have lived inside the wall
Comfortably numb and ignorantly dumb
Living my life forever tasting the call

My soul understood Nirvana  
The White Horse has lived in my stall
I’ve tasted death at the edge of my breath
As my soul just nodded through it all

Like Creed I am my own Prison
No appeal on the docket today
What I learned from John Lennon
We all need to learn how to pray

Morrison took me to the roadhouse
Like Merle they locked me away
And I guess just like Creedence
I’ve seen rain on the sunny day

You know I do love Hank Jr.
Especially when he sings the blues
It seems so many of us just hop on the bus
Forever lost in the Addictions we choose

Sometimes I feel just like Kid Rock
I’m just sitting here in search of myself
I have great respect for Garth Brooks
For his family he put his career on the shelf

Johnny Cash sang of San Quentin
I heard the song in one of its cells
Locked up inside of that medieval prison 
You feel like you have made it to hell

Like Jerry Garcia I fried in Berkley
Like Hendrix I dropped acid in my eyes
To this day when I hear Janice Joplin
 I just want to break down and cry

The Eagles played the Hotel California 
I have led the dance on that Prison yard
Guns & Roses sang of the Jungle
Prison is a world very cold and hard

These are a few of the songs and the makers
Ones that have shared my story and plight
When I die just play dust in the wind
As I ride the stairway to heaven that night

If my song is granted one purpose
And the music I’m allowed to choose
Let it be said that the song in my head
Was country rock with a touch of the blues

And let that song forever tell a story
A horrible story that ended so bright
For when Jesus Christ grants his mercy
Even the most blind can be led to the light

So Lord let my life be your lighthouse
Lord please guide my story as it’s told
And whatever you do Lord I beg of you
Help me stay worthy of the heart that I hold

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Miss Rock 'N Roll

I saw you by the record machine
An angel, a beautiful being
On a whim I took a chance
Slid over and said:
Let me hold you while we dance.
I was stunned for a while
As you gave a gentle smile
I proceeded to ask for your name
You told me you’d be impossible to tame.

Those weren’t my intentions
I was hoping you’d slip, fall and spill your affections
In my direction.
Miss Rock ‘N Roll
I’m under your control
So what do you say
We head home to be alone
Linkin Park in the dark
And wake up to a Green Day?

I went in for a kiss
She went in for a whisper
Softly said:
Mister, if you love Rock ‘N Roll
Better put a Nickel-back in that jukebox, baby
If you love Rock ‘N Roll
Take your time and dance with me.

* I Love Rock ‘N Roll
Joan Jett and The Blackhearts

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Music Empowers Me

Hip Hop, Pop, Rap, the music genre of my generation,
bringing back our society from mass degeneration.
Empowering us to be, something more, something free.
Words heal, connecting us together, perfect in harmony.
To spin the words into webs, bind them together in a beat,
We once may have lost our pride, now never we will loose our feet.
Hear the struggles, the pain, I know it, I felt it first hand.
There is light bred from darkness, ready now, take a stand.
Unlock the future, free the mind from the unfortunate,
See these stars, they have made it, it's not a solitary event.
I am not afraid anymore to feel exposed, painfully rejected,
I feel the music now in my blood, the words have me infected.
Now I can do it, I heard it, I'm not scared to blind or to shine.
I will take the world and I will own it, baby, I will make it mine!

For contest: Empowerment
Sponsor: Verlena Walker
Date: 07-14-2014

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When Shadows Fall

Summer is on the turn, into Autumn we now head So close this day approaches, inside many heads now dread We now view through our eyes, our windows of life What do we see now, do we absorb our awaiting strife Be like me and others and listen to peripheral sounds It's what we have come to know, it's us all around Day by day we view, the turning of life's greenery But what are we going to see after, on this future days scenery Is it intrepid anticipation, human wondering entering it's abyss We're the blind leading our blind, just what do we make of this *~* The eve of this reckoning day, in hourly wait we await Autumn has taken it's turn, are us humans in use by date This morning we have awaited, curtains drawn I view There's something different about the sunrise, sees me a through From my balcony I witness, now seeing from where I am Shape shifting no longer applies, I just don't understand In sorrow fill hungered loss, I lose life's lust for thrall From my balcony I now witness, I view when shadows fall *~* Inspired by "Touchstone's" <> "When Shadows Fall" from their album "The City Sleeps"

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Lyre, Lyre

For The contest 
"Fill Up A Scroll "

With hand upon the golden lyre
Her fingers intertwined the wire
With her hair, like burning fire
Rest upon her breast

The music that she plays, it tells
Of love that's lost, and broken spells
Tolling like cathedral bells
Down deep inside her chest

From the scroll, she frees each note
With her heart, they rise then float
Beyond the castle walls and moat
Truly she is aptly blessed

Gently now, she reaches too
Another scroll She'll play for you
And taming that unruly shrew 
Freeing you to lie and rest

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Flower Song

Oh, where do tender flowers sing?
When do we hear flushed petals strum?
Soft on the breeze, blooms sweetly hum.
Their melodies begin in spring.

I walk through meadows delicate.
The flowers’ song a symphony;
no sound of death’s cacophony.  
In beauty, earth and sky beget.   

The season’s sounds, a pleasure heard,
each flight of buzzing bumble bee,
each butterfly fluttering free,
Spring’s lyrics sung without a word.

With every flower blooming wild,
lovers dance silently beguiled.

*For Rick's Flower Song Contest, 2/15/15
Form - enclosed rhyme, ending in a couplet

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A Heaven For Musicians

There has to be a heaven for musicians
A place for old singers to go
Their music still touches our lives
As they did years ago
Ray Charles transcended music type
From country to rock to blues
Ritchie Valens was only seventeen
When his death hit the morning news
Jim Croce sang about Leroy Brown
While Nillson would croon Without You
Janis Joplin would make you rock
And Stevie Ray would make you blue
I still watch old Ozzie and Harriet shows
Just to hear Ricky Nelson sing
Harry Chapin took his last Taxi ride
And Elvis is still the king
John sang of peace and love
While George's guitar would gently weep
Conway's music wasn't Make Believe
I hear their music in my sleep
John Denver's in the Rocky Mountains High
And Del Shannon seeks his Runaway
Rainy Days and Mondays made Karen sigh
While Otis sat On the Dock of the Bay
Jimi Hendrix played the meanest guitar
Roy's voice couldn't get any higher
Bobby Darin searched Beyond the Sea
And Jim Morrison said Light My Fire
There has to be a Heaven for musicians
For all those who have paid their dues
Where the music will live forever
From rock n' roll to rhythm and blues.

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Golden Harps

                                 A choir of Angels in heaven plays
                    Angelic pastorale music with golden harps and amaze
                                   With musical note that sings  
                                        On vibrating strings 
            Every string tenderly, caress, and plucked deepen and overwhelm
            Its echoes, relished, and hearken  throughout the heavenly realm 

By: Eve Roper

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A Harvest of Music

A Harvest of Music

The orchestra gathered under the dome
Audience  awaiting the pure joy to come. 
Descending silence alerting the senses. 
Arrive the maestro, and magic commences. 

Trombone and trumpet burst forth with feeling. 
Explosion of sound, set senses reeling. 
Tuba and French horn now adding their voice, 
Uniting as one to delight and rejoice. 

Soft music flowing, a leaf in a stream, 
Catching the ear in a heavenly dream, 
Rising and soaring, empowered of wings, 
A dream maker's touch and violin sings. 

With long curving bow caressing the strings,
Hair hiding her face, an angel, she brings 
The music of angels, rafters invading 
Haunting blue notes from cello cascading. 

Clarinet cadenza, clear fluid tones 
Tugging the heartstrings, embracing the bones. 
Filling the dome, ethereal splendour 
Fading away, celestial wonder. 

Percussion take hold, no longer hidden 
Cymbals and side drum do as they're bidden, 
Crashing and booming, sound finding its berth 
Pulling the listener back down to the earth. 

Thunderous applause with standing ovation. 
The crowd full of rapture capture elation, 
A feast for the soul, a prayer with no word
A harvest of music, to honour the Lord.

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The 70's

Back in those heavy times when everything was so far out Our words were but a whisper, the mans were but a shout Flower power was spreading, and everything was out of sight Preaching peace through out the days, and gettin our groove on into the night But we were always gettin hassled, by the fuzz, the man, the pigs They didn't want us smokin doobies, and flashin peace signs, can ya dig? Then peace and love had flourished, we needed to get funky and do our thing We needed a place to get our groove on, so the discos were the scene The threads we wore back then were styling, some were off the hook! It's hard to believe with the slim bread we made, we could carry that funky look? Bellbottoms, platform shoes, and jump suits people were a cravin Boogieing away the nights in the discos, where the lights were just a blazin Then the foxy chicks started getting pregoed, and the discos no longer Dyno-mite! Men needed to start makin more bread, and trying to live the family life But gigs weren't easy to find, and life became somewhat of a drag Some of the dudes skipped town, leaving the foxy mamas holding the bag Well thats the skinny of the seventies, the lowdown of peoples ways So keep on truckin all you cool cats and foxy mamas And remember all those ~Freaky, ~Far Out, ~Out Of Sight days
Dan Kearley:1-21-12

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Creating happiness

One I was in a stage of hopelessness and lived in this very miserable lodge in Fremantle. I wrote this while I was there mongst crime and misery

Creating Happiness

It’s a block of flats, five stories high
In each room there’s a story
Could be a tale of loneliness
It could be one of glory
But mostly I see poor damned souls
Who have no place to go
In many of these rooms, my friends
No happiness does glow.

Well me, I’ve lived here for a while
I have my little room
It’s where I sit and write my poems
And cut through all the gloom
By banging on my old guitar
And singing out my songs
Or playing my harmonica
Sometimes the whole day long.

It seems the music calms the souls
Of all these hurting guys
Cause most of them that live in here
They never pass me by
Without a wave and a friendly smile
Maybe this be my thing
Amidst all of this misery
Some joy in here to bring.

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Above the Ocean Path

  " .... can you hear the bells ? ... "
             ~~~   ~~~

I trudge along the ocean path
up the hill to the promenade.
Above the crashing waves I stand,
then memories, my thoughts, invade.

Behind me, white and old, as I,
the abandoned church beckons me.
It says " do you remember when?"
"Think back ... what do you see?"

I remember lilacs blooming
and music from inside,
when this was a church full of life,
when I became a bride.

But now the lilacs fade from sight,
a deserted shell is all I see.
There is no music playing.
Sadness settles over me.

The curtains blow through broken panes.
They billow in the breeze
as if they're trying to escape
out to the beckoning seas.

Once upon a time we were
Alive ! , this church and I.
But we are old and empty now
and ready now to die.

           ~~~   ~~~
"behind the church is a promenade
     they call the Widows Walk"

   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~


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Music is the mood in your bones
Keep it rolling like the stones
Vibrations that direct the soul
Sensations to dictate your role
Melody to make you feel at home
Rhythm for making the mind roam
Chorus of a heart that you know
Put yourself into your own flow

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12 days of Christmas Remix

On the First day of Christmas my true love gave to me...
A starfish from the vast sea
On the Second day a Christmas my true love gave to me...
Two crabs crawling and a starfish from the vast sea
On the Third day of Christmas my true love gave to me...
Three dolphins dancing, Two crabs crawling and a starfish from the vast sea
On the Fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me…
Four whales waving, Three dolphins dancing, Two crabs crawling and a starfish from the vast sea
On the Fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me...
Five pearl rings,Four whales waving, Three dolphins dancing,two crabs crawling and a starfish from the vast sea
On the Sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me...
Six silver dollars, Five pearl rings, Four whales waving, Three dolphins dancing,Two crabs crawling, and a starfish from the vast sea
On the Seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me...
Seven seals swimming, Six silver dollars, Five pearl rings, Four whales waving,Three dolphins dancing,Two crabs crawling and a starfish from the vast sea
On the Eighth day of Christmas my true love gave to me...
Eight eerie eels, Seven seals swimming,Six silver dollars,Five pearl rings,Four whales waving,Three dolphins dancing,Two crabs crawling and a starfish from the vast sea
On the ninth day of Christmas my true love gave to me...
Nine Norway lobsters, Eight eerie eels,Seven seals swimming,six silver dollars,five pearl rings, four whales waving,three dolphins dancing, two crabs crawling and a starfish from the vast sea
On the Tenth day of Christmas my true love gave to me...
Ten tiny turtles, Nine Norway lobsters,eight eerie eels, seven seals swimming, six silver dollars, five pearl rings, four whales waving, three dolphins dancing,two crabs crawling and a starfish from the vast sea
On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me...
Eleven teeny frog eggs, Ten tiny turtles, Nine Norway lobsters, Eight errie eels, Seven seals swimming, Six silver dollars, five pearl rings, four whales waving, three dolphins dancing, two crabs crawing and a starfish from the vast sea
On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me…
An aquarium to keep them happy, Eleven teeny frog eggs, ten tiny turtles, Nine Norway lobsters, eight eerie eels , seven seals swimming, Six silver dollars, Five pearl rings, four whales waving,Three dolphins dancing,Two crabs crawling and a starfish from the vast sea.

 "remix 12 days xmas song"

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My Guitar

With burdens bearing heavy down a road that’s hard and long My body’s bent and weary so I’m reaching for a song; My sorrows flicker – fading ..., faint ... - beneath the morning star, While worried fingers seethe across the strings of my guitar. Though seagulls fly forever, streaking, striving for the strand, My troubles ebb, evaporate, with my guitar in hand; Their turbulency’s writhing neath the notes within the air - And hunted by the haunting beat, they’re vanquished everywhere. With melodies erupting, bursting, splashing night with dawn, The drifting dancing demons die, as time goes swirling on; Guitars are roaming randomly across the rusty skies, While cares have vanished, draped in dust of distant lullabies.

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Rambling Rose

You live for empty pleasures
They fade through each new song,
I finally see the big picture
You were weak, not strong.

I was young looking for guidance
Impressionable and quite rare,
But wolves in sheep's clothing
Can't love, for their lives are barely there.

Weeds grow in anything
But rambling roses grow on vines,
Their thorns protect all that’s around
Guarding their gates from the intruding kind.      

All you were was temporary
A stumbling block for the time,
But what’s a mountain in your way
After you decide to climb.

I was young looking for guidance,
Impressionable and quite rare,
But wolves in sheep's clothing
can't love, for their lives are barely there.

They can never destroy a rambling rose
For they are made strategically rare
They can never blossom or unfold
For their lives were never there.

By: Sabina Nicole
Written: 7-11-12

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Adventures In Neverland

The reasoning has befallen, on a rock she now prays Dark cobalt blue tides, like counters, our end of days Wildlife in sporadic, escaping to not Whilst a sky filled abyss, shall stop the clock Angelic she sits, in wonderment of her see Knowing what lies ahead, adventures in neverland will be Our past has finally caught, in we, we under-find Neighbours have become our enemies, no friends of mine We now await the others, the omega point we await Staring at the glass half, to freedoms departure gate In-trepidation walk, knowing that our steps Like footsteps in the sands, eternally are reft Continually we look back, to a place we know we were The memories of all off us now instantly a blur As we focus on the angel, consumed before our eyes Me a man amongst what's left, in tear laden cry Threnody now holds us, elevates our screams As we watch the children talk, other-worlds they now dream Hyper-drive is called, forced back as we sit Amidst forests of hands and teeth, are humans in acquit Continually we look back, to a place we know we were The memories of all off us now instantly a blur As we focus on the angel, consumed before our eyes We face adventures in neverland, what's left of us we try <*> <*>

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So much I wanted to say. So much I wanted to shout.
It was like being trapped behind bars without a way
to get out.
My mind going wild with all these questions of why.
The only way to escape was to fall asleep or to cry.
What did I do so bad that made me have to pay?
My friends, my dreams, and my life was swepped away.
I know I can do it! I try and I try.
Nothing seems to get better. I sometimes wish
I would Die.
Starved for attention. I wanna talk to the world.
I just miss being loved. Miss the warmth of a girl.
Snickers and stairs is what my life has become.
I'm treated like I'm a kid, like I'm sick, or I'm dumb.
One day to the next. Life becomes work just to be alive.
I thank god for my blessings. I thank god I survived.
I finally see some improvement. More hope tickles
my brain.
It was worth all the time, all the tears, all the pain.
I awake with a smile and new hope to move on.
I did it! I did it! All those hard times are gone!

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Michael Jackson

When I think about Michael, my eyes start to tear
He never learned to love, the man in the mirror

His gifts Thriller and Bad, made him the king of pop
A true innovator, creating the moon walk

That dirty Diana, never gave him a kiss
He was a smooth criminal, we were the witness

Loved by many millions, he lived behind his gate
Neverland his prison, prescription pills his fate

A life not fully lived,  too soon came to an end
He preferred fantasy, a strange world of pretend

He started to early, wanted to be a child
A part of him missing, his talking voice so mild

Still whenever he sang, he created fashion 
What could ever compare, with that kind of passion?

He continues to dance, an image on our screen
He was one of a kind, the best I've ever seen

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I didn't want anyone
to have a sad Christmas,
so I roamed Manhattan's star-decorated streets,
where many a homeless weeps...
where was I to find that someone,
if not in that corner where a barrel fire was?

By God's grace, I found that unhappy person in ragged clothes
to give my four presents to,
ending the drama of his woe
by bringing coat, shoes, gloves and a long scarf
to erase the misery of a beggar whose cold night was rough;
he widely smiled when I leaned forward and offered him my gifts!

Bewildered folks wearing the latest fashion attire, did not have
the decency of stooping down and give him a single quarter,
and doing so they killed the Christmas' spirit entirely...
a generous spirit well-known in this city;  yes, my anger
could have made me lash out at them with indignation,
but realizing how greedy people can be withholding love:
I gasped in relief to discover a creche of our Savior so cheery 
along the festive Fifth Avenue to get rid of my frustration!

What I found there was a Heaven-inspired sight
of gleaming angel's hovering the stable announcing Christ's glorious birth... 
while beneath bang-pipers and trumpets players, glowing with mirth, 
accompanied the youngest choir singing, "Holy Night."
Perhaps venturing out in the cold of the wealthiest city,
gave me the opportunity to realize the hidden goodness of kind souls
that give away their humble presents in various forms,
not expecting anything in return...but rejoice in the delightful sound of harmony.

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Why I Love The Rain

                                         ~Why I love the rain?~
                               Its soothes my soul with its sounds.
                            The drops bouncing are music all around.
                            The refreshing taste of a spring raindrop.
                       Cools my tongue, a feeling I don't want to stop.
                        Staring up in the sky each drop has its own say.
                    Some land lightly others fly and crash their own way.
                     Each shower brings ideas and a cleansing so inviting.
                           To me its a orchestra of thunder and lighting.
                         So when you see and hear the rain , know its a 
                             good thing and not always a form of pain.
                        Hear the music I hear and the inspiration it brings.
                          Open your windows wide and let the sky sing..

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A New Star Shines Above Hawaii

On this warm and clear tropical night, a new star in heaven shines its light. It rises high above Hawaii, over the palm trees for all to see. On the beaches, the waves crash around. Listen carefully, there’s a new sound. It’s an old familiar melody. Sweet notes played on a ukulele joined by a voice so smooth and mellow, it’s a wonderful tune we all know. From this small island of Oahu, a fine native son has bid adieu. He has left this Pacific playground. With God’s big band, he can now be found.

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Outside my place, I heard a sound 				
it thrust deep into me, 					
my head was lost in thoughts profound,				
confined, but now I’m free.						

The music woke my heart to hear				
what scarce my ears perceived,					
those sweet, faint notes, on breezy air 				
as bagpipes’ throats were squeezed.						

Drawn closer, was I, to the bar,			
my head was feeling numbed,			
my hand it craved the whisky jar,		
to Scotland I succumbed!			

The pipers’ band came near to stand,		
my tears, I could not stay,		
yon pipes I love, but they’re most grand,	 	
when heard from far away.		

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Heart of Fire

As I sit in front of these black and white keys,
I can't find the right tune to flow with my breeze..
I stare out the window, over the trees and past
the sky of mine..
Searching for a word and note that can capture
my feelings in a rhyme..
Sometimes a world away or a mile, but still out of
reach to hold..
Then my fingers move and a thought comes out
with a melody not yet sold..
A song of peace, a song of desire..
That builds in my mind and a heart of fire..

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Blame it on the Bossa Nova

There is a catchy tune recorded during an earlier day. This recording was made by the talented Eydie Gorme. Yes, she was the same one who was Steve Lawrence’s wife. The song turned out to be the biggest hit of her life. On a popular dance she wanted to put the blame. The “Bossa Nova” was what ignited her love flame. A handsome guy caught her eye; then she wanted to dance. Eydie said that was what started her romance. Just listen to the song if it is something you don’t know. Perhaps you might be one to fall in love also.

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Tonight I Went Out Swinging For The Very First Time

Tonight I went out Swinging for the very first time
Now the title has grabbed your attention – I hope you will read my rhyme!

Tonight I went to hear The Manx Swing Band
The best musicians throughout the land
Don Elliot and Terry Quayle have been members right from the start
Forty years in the band  - they have never been apart

Classic swing tracks we all love to hear
In the interval you can even have a beer
Fabulous melodies and tunes from many years ago
With saxophones swinging gently to and fro

We began with ‘On the Sunny Side of the Street’
As soon as I heard it I was tapping my little feet
Begin the Beguine drifted gently from the stage
In 1938 this song was all the rage

Over the Rainbow – oh what a beautiful song
When they played this track I just wanted to sing along
Moon River brought a tear to my eye
It’s a favourite of mine and even now it makes me cry

Moonlight Serenade and In the Mood by the fantastic Glen Miller
American Parade and Little Brown Jug, sure were a crowd thriller
A medley of Beatles songs and then some James Bond Themes
Such wonderful music I shall hear it in my dreams

New York New York chords swiftly came along
The band can’t resist playing a great Sinatra song
Next was Duke Ellington’s Take The A Train 
Now I’ve heard that tune I can’t get it out my brain

I am sure that you can see I’ve had the most amazing night
If I told my mum I’d gone ‘Swinging’ she may get a dreadful fright
When you see this poem's title please don’t get it into your head
That something I put in black and white means I’m jumping into bed!

Jan Allison
16th March 2014

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I s’pose you've heard of Tamworth and the shindig there each year, 
where country music reigns supreme and all its stars appear.  
They’re in the pubs and all the clubs and arcades 'round the town      
and Peel Street is just full of pics all strumming up and down. 
In years of late another breed of artists have appeared; 
Bush Poets with their rhyming verse, who are now quite revered. 
The Longyard and Imperial pubs and Leagues Club host a few, 
while golf and bowls clubs house more mobs and Peel street has them too.  
It happens that I'm one of them and have for six straight years 
performed to folk my style of verse -  The Laughter and the Tears. 
You make them cry, you make them laugh, you keep your tales true blue, 
for that is what the folk demand:  be Aussie through and through. 
Most folk they see us poets as the ocker type of bloke 
and know we see line dancing as some kind of flamin' joke.  
They stream to Tamworth each year and stretch out along Peel street. 
These hordes of blokes and sheilas with their fancy prancin' feet. 
They’re shapes and sizes are diverese, no two frames look the same, 
with fancy shirts embroidered with the place from hence they came.   
They tuck their thumbs behind their belts then line up in a row 
and when the music kicks on in they boot scoot to and fro. 
Each year they have this ritual, that really is a bore; 
They try to break the record they procured the year before. 
Like locusts they assemble and I watch them with disdain 
'cause surely they've got Buckley's chance of doing it again. 

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The clouds are floating softly just below the mountain's peak.
   The river plays it's symphony, sweet music to my ear.
      The lyrics dance in rhythm as the Lord begins to speak.
         I thank him for this morning and the melodies I hear.

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Beyond My Mind

Blue or green? The color of the sea, Going up and down the waves, To be my unexpected mood, Sweet or sour the feeling of me. The question of my mind hitting it through the divine, The passion of art inside a deep mind, With full of imaginations, Hitting me through left and right. Perspective comes along with me, Seeing it in my mind, Looking at the blank paper, My emotions run down the pages, Forgetting my visions along, Looking down on paper, Loosing my focus , Is getting hard to draw. Speaking with my wild heart wide open, Thinking of the world we live in today, Standing amongst the people not knowing what to say, Hearing the music flowing into my ears, Beating myself inside these walls of hate, Wanting my eyes to cry with full of tears, Hating to be on this earth, Seeing people fade away, Sinking through lies in my face, Stabbing me in the back when I need them the most, Seeing people with unwanted faith through their eyes, Anger comes my way, Looking down at the world with full of questions in my head, Going crazy with frustration and confusion of me questioning God, Deep inside my heart is burning with poison, Is breaking me apart like glass, At peace without a path in mind, Falling down somewhere here that I never belong, I'm not perfect yet, I like to lead not to follow others. Life is like a tree that grows inside me, Leafs on the tree come and go like people in my life, Taking the road of life, Things can change in a minute, When I look away, My goals would fade away, Going back letting noting stand on my way, Trying harder to focus on my goals, Looking around with a smile on, Reaching my goals slowly without a distraction.

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Mist Song

The waves lick the pier-deck beams,

   a boat has passed upon the lake

   to shuffle the song upon the wind,

   ebbing whooshes.....

The smoky waters still to tease

   slow with ancient whispers,

The Loon leads upon the woody melody,

   some sylvan songster

   too beautiful to languish,

   still sleeping....

Not floating upon the dawn

   through misted peace;

   all ears have heard

   the first kiss of throngs,

Gentle as waves upon the tide,

   from the very earth it seems....

   the sweet haunting cry

   echoes souls through silts

   leagues deep,

The very marrow of stone,

   and pine and leaf,

A morning hushed but for its 

   pretty plea, a male perhaps

   (so tender with feminine appeal)

They all call so, pillowed 

   their first-light throngs,

Angels upon the deep billowed morn,

Where the very clouds above

   have seemed to hover

   above the lake along,

Their soothing cry 

   fills the waking wood....

   hushed waters, still as stars

   feeds the twilight with song

(pining through hovering hats of mist)

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But somehow they have done it and you can't help but admire, 
the pluck of these boot scootin' folk ... they never seem to tire. 
This year the faithful came again though couldn't help but doubt, 
no matter how they wanted to their run of luck was out. 

The M.C. kept on calling out, "All register now please. 
If we don't keep the record folks it could go overseas." 
The comment cut just like a knife.  I thought, “you man or mouse?” 
'Cause, what if they were just one short?   You'd really feel a louse.  
The more the M.C. made his plea the more it gnawed at me, 
until I cracked and ran on up and paid the flamin' fee. 
I stuck my ticket on my shirt and joined the middle row 
and wished they'd kick the music off and get on with the show. 
My biggest fear was if my mates were watching in the crowd. 
They'd never let me live it down.  The M.C. cried out loud. 
"It's time folks," and the music played.  I thought I'd take a punt 
and pranced along by following the tall chick there in front. 
Then when the music stopped at last I made a quick retreat, 
relieved that I had not been seen boot scootin' in the street. 
We broke the record once again and felt real good deep down, 
but please don't tell me poet mates -  they'd run me out of town! 
Each year as I've sat in front of Grace Bros. Store at the Tamworth Country Music 
Festival, performing our show and selling our product, I have observed the ritual of 
bootscooters gathering in Peel Street to break the record for the largest number of 
bootscooters gathered in one place. A record they have broken annually for some years now 
in the Guinness Book of Records.  Each year I have grappled with the thought - what if 
they were short by one? - so I had to tell the story.

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The BIble Is The Inspired Word Of God

The Bible Is The Inspired Word of God!

I heard someone say “the Bible was written by man.”
But there’s a truth I don’t think he understands.

God used man to simply be an “inspired instrument.”
This was more than some type of “experiment.”

God used many different people from various places.
He used them from both the Jewish and Gentile races!

Though the words spanned a long period of time…
They were written with all of us in mind!

It was as if God himself had taken the pen.
He spoke directly through different men.

All of the books are together with a common goal.
To bring the words of God to the common soul.

I would encourage to read the Bible for your direction.
Allow God’s words to daily be your inspiration!

Won’t you read from Genesis through Revelation?
You can learn about God’s gift of salvation!

The Bible speaks of God’s love and holiness too!
And speaks to the heart of how much HE LOVES YOU!

You can also learn about eternity in a heavenly mansion!
Your life can receive a blessed “abundant life expansion!”

Through the words of Christ, you’ll be blessed!
As you find in him a comfort and a haven of rest!

I invite you to read and apply God’s truth today!
And be transformed by what he really has to say!

By applying Biblical principles in how you’re living!
You’ll be blessed by the awesome words God is giving!

By Jim Pemberton  

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British Invasion-1964

There was talk about the nuclear bomb
There was a war going on in Vietnam
It was on the news, the drummers were drumming
Look out America, the British are coming

We couldn't wait to turn our radios on
To hear Paul and Ringo, George and John
What could make you feel more alive
Than to rise in the morning to the Dave Clark Five

To be part of it was so much fun
With Eric and "The House of the Rising Sun"
Music sent from heaven above
Peter and Gordon "A World Without Love"

There was Peter Noone and Herman's Hermits sound
While Petula Clark took us all "Downtown"
The country went wild when Donovan hit the stage
Tom Jones and Dusty Springfield were part of the rage

Oh Lord one day please take me back
To hear Marianne Faithful and Cilla Black
The Rolling Stones conquered every city
And Manfred Mann sang "Do Wah Diddy"

The Kinks and Troggs took us for a whirl
The New Seekers sang about "Georgy Girl"
British fashion was everywhere
And the Zombies told us "She's Not There"

Now James bond was doing some super spying
Gerry said, "Don't Let the Sun Catch You Crying"
Freddie and the Dreamers sang "I'm Telling You Now"
The British had conquered America somehow

The Searchers, The Hollies, meaningful words
Chad and Jeremy, don't forget the Yardbirds
If there was a way we could do it again
We'd have another invasion like we did back then.

   If you weren't there, it might be hard to understand. The music had meaning 
with political statements and social statements written between the lines. the 
young were actively involved and the apathy that exists now was hard to find. The 
fun music was fun music and the message music set a tone for a generation. It 
was a great time to be growing up in spite of the turmoil in the world, a world we 
thought we all could change.  Times change, sometimes not for the better. 

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Mamma Anna made the best Babba' al Rhum,
you should have seen me how it made me slightly drunk;
and jumping and screaming I danced to the beats of a drum...
then grandma joined in and she sang a classical song!

And the sweet cream was on my lips and cheeks, 
the Babba' al Rhum was delicious and I topped it with chocolate;
everybody began shouting, "It came from Paris,
but we Neapolitans reinvented it by improving its shape and taste!"

Mamma Anna made the best Babba' al Rhum, soaking it in that liqueur much longer;
and Papa' always told me to eat more of it...saying with a suppressing laughter,
"It's a man's dessert, after you eat it, you'll be strong!"
Oh, did he really tell me the truth? No, he was wrong!

It's so very sad that they aren't here,
and I am eating pretzels and drink a beer,
the harmony that stirred their passion can't possibly return...
as they danced on the terrace to celebrate the day I was born!

Mamma Anna knew how to make the best Babba' al Rhum,
and I licked the dripping rum with my finger...not my tongue!
She spoke calmly...when she should have gotten mad and picked up a broom;
no, she was never mean and rude, or ever said to me, " Go to your room!"

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My Song

When the waves are flooding the shore Yeah, when my world is falling apart, Once more you open the door And you’re here in my heart. I never thought that I could feel this power. I never thought that I could feel this free. Picture perfect memories scattered All around the floor Whisper words of wisdom , let it be!! -------------------------------------------- For contest: “sing a song for me” Line one and two -- Milie Cyrus “When I Look at You” Line 3 and 4 -- Celine Dion “My Heart Will Go On” Line 5 & 6 --Justin Bieber “Never Say Never” Line 7 & 8 --Lady Antebellum “Need You Now” Line 9--The Beatles "Let It Be"

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Prayerful countenance, my soul's own veil
has aptitude in keeping mind's involve
to follow true poetic thought's portrayal
and hold in dowry's distribution ~ love!

A parasite, distrust, does muster fail
that groveling of lust from out its cove
does terminate resumption of faith's hail
to usury's assumption of truth's strove!

That music, consequence, denies sort's time
by its incessant mitigating's fine
thus grace unfaltering in its pensive rhyme
is Heaven's calling, echo's true of thine!

Significant react solves undermine
as nuance of regret is so assigned
to journal's keeping, studious as mine
aforethought's mention holding in consign!

I trail this vestige in consent's refine
insolvent, rough suggestion, veering crime ~
exacting, while saved virtue not define,
and calling names assumes its new combine!

Convention then so claims my lonesome pine
away from thy quiet peace, God's given sign,
and that small claim in thee to wholeness line
is in my poem . . . dowry's adept divine!

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My Rodeo Cowboy

papa said 
son what you going to do 
with your life

now that you have 
no money job 
or wife

he said papa
I'm going to 
leave this town

think I'll
join up with the rodeo 
and break them bulls down 

Maybe even rope
me a stallion or
even a clown

Son you better
take another 
look around

for theres no money
for bull riders
thrown to the ground

or being stepped on
by a horse or bull
weighing over eight hundred pounds

Papa I promise 
Ill make you proud
of your rodeo cowboy when I'm done

And promise 
not to be thrown or bucked off
to the ground

So papa please come
visit when our show's
in town

for I'll be 
the one riding high on 
the biggest bull that's found

hanging on for just 
eight seconds while I'm
listening for that bells sound

just kicking those sides
of horses and bulls
jumping up and down

with coming out your
top rodeo champion and
bull rider found

Tribute To
The Rodeo Cowboys 
and Cowgirls

Hang Tough

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Trudy, Trudy you'll soon be you

Trudy, Trudy
No more tears
Headphones on
Dis quell those fears
Sing your heart out
Sing it strong
Write your lines
Post, where you belong
So much sadness
In so many writers
Again write your lines
We are poetry's fighters
Armed with pen
On computer sheets
On Word applications
It looks so neat
Trudy Diane Rider
This poem's for you
Trudy, Trudy
You'll soon be you

For Trudy Diane Rider

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Cross-legged he sits upon the ground
Playing a fiddle that makes no sound.
With a broken bow in his frozen grip
No note from his hand will ever slip.

He sits amidst the flowers in bloom-
The air redolent with their sweet perfume,
But he’s immobile indeed throughout the day
And so never sends forth a musical lay.

Yet I swear I heard as I was falling asleep
At the end of a day I had no wish to keep,
When my mind was weary and my thoughts were dim, 
I’m sure I heard music coming from him.

He fiddled in notes that were joyful and witty;
Soon I was caught up in his musical ditty.
As the crickets kept time with his light airy tune
The flowers all danced beneath the full moon.

And I, for my part, as I lay in my bed
With his music swirling in my dream covered head,
I danced with the flowers each in their turn
Humming a song I never did learn.

Then after a while he changed what he played 
As he eased into a soft serenade, 
And the crickets, and flowers, and I myself too,
Found rest in the notes his music spoke through.

And so I dreamt throughout the night
Then greeted the dawn with strange delight,
And the troubles that had gone to bed with me
Now no longer have the same urgency.

If you called me strange I would have to approve,
For I certainly agree that a statue can’t move,
But I noticed this morning down the garden lane
As the sun slowly crept toward my window pane

That the frog and his fiddle, though in the same place,
Has a wry little a smile upon his face,
And with his fiddle resting on his knee-
I do believe he winked at me!

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The Musician

His fingers sailing on the string
Arousing enchanting rhythm from sleep
   Solace to desolate hearts bring
    And penetrate the craving souls deep

Music drifting in the air like perfume
Healing wounds like the miracles of Jesus
 Prevailed serenity torments consume
    Like a flower’s bloom elegant and gracious

         Melting like butter the hardened hearts
        Soothing like balm the anguish and pain
Healing the wounds of the suffering’s darts
Trickling like rain drops on a sun baked plain

Bestowing tranquillity and serenity to soul
   The onlooker’s hands busy in ceaseless applaud
         As on the Sitar his magic fingers roll 
But his life beleaguered and misfortune clawed

Would tomorrow's air be perfumed by his music?
Would his means promise togetherness of his body and soul?
Would anguished souls still crave for the balm of his lyric?
Or the hawks of society devour his art as a whole

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Sounds Of The Surf

Flute is blown by the wind
Hollow sound long and thin 
Picks up  blowing, blowing all around
Flute now plays a higher sound

Fog or appartion slowly moves
On the cymbals really grooves
Soft and low is the sound
Gently, softly floats all around

Wind  picks up, palm trees sass shea 
Storm is surely on its way
Palm trees bend and begin to sway
Faster, harder symbols play

Bass drum adds its booms
As the storm really zooms
Violins warning of their doom
Sounds that are totally gloom

Storm is gone the flute's return
Soft and low hums surf's churn
Surf is calling with its sounds
Come, come dance around

(I challenge anyone to write their verison of sounds of the surf)

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The Carousel

A gentle push,
a bell rings
as we slowly move,
and the music begins.

The horse goes up
with mane of blue
and tail of orange
moving faster, too.

The horse goes down
all blue and white
with a saddle of red
and a pole to hug tight.

Round we go
with benches to sit
if horse riding
is not your fit.

Faster around as the music
grows louder too.
Its a flying machine
with horses of blue.

A machine that slowly winds down
like a music box with a dancing doll.
The horses move ever slower until
the ride is over ... thats all.

Were you way up high
when the music stopped?
Or was your horse very low ...
my how it did drop!!

Can we go around again,
oh please, oh please.
Forever and always
blue horse in the breeze.

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Thoose Nights

Short skirts and worn out lines.
Playing music for a living.
How I'll always miss thoose times.

Bodies so close the dance floor forever bleeds.
Painted faces they never met the person I am 
but they met my needs.  

I gave them a relief from lifes stress.
Taken in plessure sweet are the memories.
Empty bottles clutter the sink.
Apon the chair sits your newest dress.

The stage makes a man more than he does seem.
Sweat of passion.
That razor although deadly still holds a
beautiful gleam.

Thoose nights  call to my heart to this
very day.
To live as pirates.
And love like liars whos words  only

And to thoose whom i've shared.
shattred dreams and stolen reflections.
Please understand  no response  wasnt a message
of how I never cared.

Smoke filled crowded  rooms and watred down
Thoose nights were gold.
No matter how any outsider thinks.

And so your face did illuminate along with that voice.
Thoose nights stayed etched  in my soul.
for to that memorie   I am a prisoner by choice.

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The King Of Pop

from his abc's
to that freaky billy jean

came a pop star 
for all to love and see

from the apollo's stage
wondered if you were ready for screaming rage

for you never had a childhood of bliss
only done what was on joseph's list

a studded white glove 
and white socks just because

a star on the hollywood walk of fame
for you sang and danced showing no shame

scandals of twisted truth
did not detour you from your missing youth

neverland was your own safari escape
who would figure your best friend would be a chimp of faith

michael may god cradle you in his arms
and basked in your king of pops worldly charm

will forever miss that porcelain smile
and always think of you on my radio dial

for now your at your heavens trial
may god forgive this lost and lonely child

In Loving Memory Of
Michael Joseph Jackson
Aug 29th 1958 - June 25th 2009


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Stockings, Basque, Tattoo's and Music

Semi naked she stands
In her stockings and basque
Long black velvet gloves
Being sensuous is her task

Her long black flowing hair
Cascades down her back
Her beauty captures all
There's no lack of that

She has me on my knees
Kissing her black leather boots
Luring me into temptation
To savour in our fruits

Her body pert and proud
As tattoo's grace her skin
For we join in another adventure
Like the playing of a fine violin

Our music starts to play
Heart strings touched and tuned
Orchestral in join
Like the earth and the moon

Our passioned ensemble
Creating notes of joy
The meandering of our hands
In continuous employ

Our music plays for hours
So many many songs
Stockings, basque, tattoo's and music
All night long

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Waiting for a girl like you

Though oceans and miles
Are between you and me
Until we ever meet
I will think of thee
As i sit here at home
Such a distance away
Never seen you face
Or hear what you say
This foreigner boy
With eyes so blue
His hearts been
Waiting for a girl like you
For so long unloved
Flesh wounds on his heart
His willing to leave
And to make a new start
Another country 
To call his home
Before this blue eyed boy's
Heart turns to stone
I have waited so long
To heal the hole in my soul
I want to know what love is
Lost love, has taken it's toll

I want love to feel like the first time
So don't let go
For this foreigner boy 
Will love you so

The beat of my heart
Like a mountain of love
Until the end of time
Blue eyed boy and his dove

" written with some great tracks from Foreigner "

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Concert contamination

I stand in awe, paralyzed
Bottomless pit below, where feet should stand
Boundless steps, take one more, then another
Am I alone, in a sea of nineteen thousand?

I wonder, is it just me
Who's lungs compress the closer we become
Nearly there, complete the infinate descent
A memory perpetually imprinted, will not be undone

I contemplate leaving, turn back
The rush overwhelms me, is it too late?
I've waited a lifetime and a day, I'm here
A bumbling hum accumulates, then resonates

I understand how it unites
How it heals, destroys, runs fingers through nerves
Drags buried demons from shadows, kicking, screaming
A final standing ovation, the least that's deserved

I reflect as the curtains drop
Last wire unplugged, last light deluminated
Bottomless pit, where feet once stomped
Can't shake the music from my mind, I'm contaminated

25th August 2011

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A Song

Sing into the wilderness
Harmonize with the wind
Do a duet with raindrops
A tune from within

Melodies of ocean waves
Caress my listening toes
The crescendo from mountains 
My soul swells as it grows

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It captivates the soul
It keeps us in control
It helps to liberate 
Gives you peace and not hate
For without it you cannot live
Opens your heart to forget and forgive
It makes you cry
Gives you questions like why
So inspirational 
Very spiritual
A gift to life
Takes away pain and strife
It gives us freedom of creativity 
Always bringing people together as family 
A form of beautiful art 
It gives us that love spark
Makes it easy for us cope and have hope
It has rhythm and melody
Music is me and I’m its harmony

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Rivers and Roses

What was once based on ability is now politically correct
As the powers that be try to disconnect
At Cooperstown where there is so much fame
The list of players is still missing one name

Now out in Cleveland they're missing a name
At the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame
If you're over fifty, you know many of his songs
At the Hall, Johnny Rivers belongs

On the field, Pete gave it his all
But a gambling addiction was his downfall
Baseball still sweeps much under its rugs
Addiction's okay as long as it's drugs

Now Cleveland strikes another bad chord
When one of the greatest is being ignored
He's had top forty hits for over forty years
From Secret Agent Man to The Tracks of my Tears

The time has come to right this wrong
And put them in where they belong
Time's getting short as another year closes
They're not Halls of Fame without Rivers and Roses.

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Baroque... Oh Music Sweet.

The sound of baroque  fills the air
the lively beats one can hear 
 as senses reel to music sweet
elves dance  upon imaginary leaves .
The orchestra reaches crescendo
shattering crystals of chandeliers on high
staccatto beats .....the doe skids across the icy field
as snow cascade down from  cypress trees.
Violins squeak ...Trombones blare
mandolins vibrate the inner ear.
The harp thrills......soft ripples along the  narrow stream,
fish jumping into sunbeams.
Cymbals clash , a metallic crash...splintered timbers caught in lightening flash
A silent throb...the  music dims... a cool beeze flows over the hills
 soothing, drawing  all into a warm embrace
calming the spirit , slowing the pace.
The music wanes...... delicate snowflakes stuck to window panes
A Grand finale......twitching nerves that  long for solace. 
Silence now as the music stops.
Peace follows music sweet.... into dreams.
 Baroque music lives not weep.
Sleep now ....sleep.

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The fox

The Fox.

The fox he bounced up to the toad
As everything around him glowed
He took her hand so tenderly
And said "hey sing this song with me"

The elephant told the kangaroo
“No matter what you say or do
You've got to have this dance with me”
And hummed a little melody.

They danced and danced
The whole night through
And really had a great to do
As their time they filled so merrily
All crazy, wild, and fancy free

The chimpanzee said to the clown
As he tapped his toes upon the ground
“Come laugh with me and have some fun
Let's dance and sing, hey everyone”.

The bear he laughed to see them all
As he drank some juice to keep him cool
Then he joined in all the carry on
As they played and danced the whole day long.

Peace, Socrares 1996

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Life Doesn't Have To Be So Bad

I can still hear the strumming of your mesmerizing guitar
And your soft, angelic voice captures me afar
I miss the times we used to dance around on the balcony in joy
As you would laugh and talk about every hot middle school boy
I remember the night you despondently sang me a song
In the pouring rain, the pulse of your spirit flew till the break of dawn 
Your guitar still rings alive…then my heart feels dead
And I know that it’s just the sickening voices inside my head
When we were younger I would marvel at your unremitting beauty
We’d play our little games; I’d make you laugh when I had the opportunity
Ronnie would come storming in and we’d get all upset
Taking our Bratz dolls to “deer world” Haha…that I’ll never forget

And now you’ve come back to me after all these tears and fears
Maybe we’ll start over and catch up on all the dissipated years
Maybe you’ll play the guitar and bring back the beat of your beatific spirit
To sew back this heart of mine—heh, you’ve always had the knack to cure it
Though we never lost contact, I felt so freaking alone
Without your music, without your spirit, in the darkness I would roam
I love you very much and you know I always will
After all, you were my first friend…you know the drill
Though I never really expressed how much I appreciate everything we had
Though you’ve been through some crap, life doesn’t have to be so bad
Because I have you and I know your sun will always shine through
Because I was the moon, and your rays and strums kept me out of the blue

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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

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Having fun

Having fun

Franky bear, told Tony mare
‘Tonight I’m letting down my hair
I’ll play some songs on my old Lute
Oh, Tony it will be a hoot
We’ll have the guys around the place
All dressed in leather and in lace
To dance the tango to my song
We’re going to be a happy throng.

Harry Hare said ‘Whoopy doo
I’ll sing and dance the whole night through
And I will play upon my spoons
Oh yes we’ll play a merry tune’
As guys rolled up to witness this
The two they showed them how it is
So they all danced, and moved, and swayed
And had a ball as the twosome played.

When it was over, all did say
Oh boy, it’s been a happy day
Then they went home all smiling bright
Their faces filled with sweet delight
They arranged a dance for another day
And asked the twosome if they’d play
The two said ‘yes it will be done’
As they both waved to everyone.

20 April 2014 @

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The Jazz Dream

Underground French café
Sun has gone astray,
Gone home for the night,
I sit in dim half-light
Seated alone in my booth
Feel calm, distant, aloof
Cool breeze coming from
The creaky door at the front
Live jazz, delicately playing 
In the background, I’m swaying
Laid back, to the beat
The hi-hat moves my feet
The snare and the kick
Compel my fingers to click
Index digit taps on my table
Only here is where I’m stable
Amongst all the others
Alone, like me, not bothered 
Atmospheric transition,
Here I am free, before in work-prison
Stuck in the daily grind
Working the dreaded nine to five
It tries to steal my mind
Sucks away my precious Jazz time
Misty room; smoky and sensual
My time, Jazz is my cherished jewel
Oozing class, style and flair; 
Sophisticated; naturally debonair
That cannot be imitated 
Its natural, not replicated
It’s Jazz, ‘Hmmmm’, I relax
I sit back,
Waitress strolls by, I sip my drink, 
Feet up, no one cares, at least I think 
Sultry singer takes to the stage
I smile and lean back, an audience awaits
Blissful sounds escape her lips
I hear the purest Jazz you could ever wish
I close my eyes, and think of the notes 
Hear the song this singer conceived and wrote
The Jazz dream; she unmistakably has captured it, 
The song she sings, 
Well, you’ve just read it….
The Jazz Dream….

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Kaleidoscope of Sound

Colors of the spectrum Light up my world Bright rays dancing Shades enhancing The kaleidoscope of sound I can feel it all around A whisper on the wind The murmur of the stream Rustling of leaves Creaking of the eaves Roaring of the waves Cooing of a babe Birds a chirping Bees a buzzing Thunder rumbling Mountain crumbling Ringing honking Beeping thumping Crashing clanging Booming bopping Intermingling all together In every season, scene or weather And it echoes in my head As I lie on heather beds Such a masterful symphony Sweetest ever melody, All the world´s life in harmony.

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My Spanish Guitar

Oh My Spanish Guitar  
Let me forget all my pain
Let me listen to your meldoy 
Day or night I wouldn't complain

Let me follow your rhyme
Smile with my closed eyes
Let me dance even if it rains
My feelings with your music always rise

Oh My Spanish Guitar
My fingers wants to feel you so bad
My eyes want to fall a sleep
Just by holding you in my hand

Let me gently attack your frets
With tendency let me play with your chords
Let the string buzz like a happy bee
Let the heart feel the fretboard

Oh My Spanish Guitar
you decide what you want to do
I could die and you are in my arms tonight
I could chill till life time with you

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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.

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My Tribute To Jazz Music

Dear Friends , As a lover of pure Jazz , I had written this sincere tribute two years back ! 
Hope you will like it ? Thanks for reading !


I can feel its rhythm and beat, 
And also its pulsating pain, 
Its music flows freely, -
Through my arteries and veins! 
Its beats always echoes, 
Through the corridors of my mind, 
As I get wafted, on the wings of time! 
Its music gets synchronized, 
With my heart’s muffled beats, 
As I try to keep time, - 
With the tapping of my feet! 
Each of its pulsating rhythm, 
And all its background chimes, 
With syncopated lilts , 
Jazz remains harmonized! 

The piano players dancing fingers, 
Caresses a rhythmic sway, 
While the Sax’s deep throated tenor, 
Drives my loneliness away! 
When I hear my old jazz music, 
And those golden classic tunes, 
I forget I am getting old, 
To time I become immune !!
I begin to feel like the old King Cole, 
As the music tingles my mind, 
And rejuvenates my Soul! 
                                  - Raj Nandy
-                                   New Delhi

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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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The Dance

The man in Berlin loves to dance
By the mist of the soft evening moon;
He takes his time to step on the rhyme
But he never found the tune.
There's a street where nobody goes
Where sad echoes bounce off the walls;
Where shadows march to the drum of woes
And crawl fast down the lonely halls.

You know dear I want you, I do
I need to lie down with you soon;
When the leaves on the tree are just a few
Come to me when love howls a tune.
There's a slice torn out of the sky
Day is scented with lilies of snow;
And weary birds find it hard to fly
They are scattered with no where to go.

There's a music hall in Berlin
Where the notes play loud to reviews;
There's a bar where no one is talking
They're condemned to death by the blues.
When will they look at your picture
And see the lost lonely years?
Come hold me my darling and dance
To the music of fantastic tears.

I'll dance with you in Berlin
I'll be dressed in laughter’s disguise;
With red roses between my breasts
And my hand caressing your thighs.
I'll yield to your aura of beauty
And see what you've got chained to tomorrow;
It will never be just a duty
To love you without all my sorrow.

This needs a bit of explanation; it has to do with
the second world war, the echoes are the haunting
past that brought the war about, and the shadows
are soldiers involved in the war. The rest is about 
the elusive happiness that could not be found.   

For Chris Aechtner's contest

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Smokey air, husky wisps burn The tunes of a sax, And madness etches its velvet path This urge to rap, to boom, to reel Out of skin... Climbing unto your heat, a lover’s appeal Notes tracing hips and curves Into your arms , I swerve. Our bodies writhe on blues Grinding on café floors, Till cool refrains tilt a pitch My heart begins to drawl... Oh Latin strains urges a moan, A moan pulsing a fire While we burst in sweet desire. Turn me loose while rhythms arise We are fools, On this ragtime magic When magic wets moist lips; With a tempo flaming eyes Just this one night... Before last timbre of song burns As I wait for your long return.
Craig Cornish’s More Song Lyrics Contest by nette onclaud

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My Song

I play a song from in my heart It hums, I strum it every night The notes that float from in my soul Had once been much too sad to write Once I searched inside myself And found the song I proudly play My teardrops dried upon my face And all my sorrow washed away Happiness grew from my roots And my branches reached out to the sky The agony melted away As I watched the sadness pass me by I play this song from in my soul And let it mend my broken heart I feel my being start to fade As God calls my soul to part

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There’s a new dance craze
Comin’ on the media both ways.
They all like it out west
And east it passes the test.
The girls don their lingerie,
Then agitate it every which way.
She does the reel and the shake,
Making more moves than an earthquake.
Your mind’s control is her rear rotation,
Making your only thought gratification.
Forgetting all God knows you need,
You’re ready to bow and humbly plead.
But the booty shakin’ doesn’t stop,
So it’s best you leave before you drop.
Lord, my quest is for a chain reaction,
From where the booty is to Your satisfaction.

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Let the stream of cash in, flood-gate
Like the Casino, I'll keep chips in your plate
Big-ballin', throw it in the pot, high stakes
Don't sleep, keep watch for fakes and snakes
So much dead pres' to burn, it's a crime
Surprised I ain't in the Feds, doing hard time

Forget 'bout Simon, do what the money says

I dish-out money, like candy from a Pez

Dispenser, destined to do this since I was born

I make it rain, you can't weather this storm

All these accounts, my name should be Fill-More-Banks

I keep the cash secure, it wouldn't be safer in tanks

Fast money, accountant, lost track of how much I earn

The money's wind to my sail, it controls where I turn

I'm eating right now, stack the money like pancakes

You know I love beef, put everything up for stakes

Eating up these problems, got me puttin' on some pounds

BS walk, money talk, you tell me how that sounds?

Hold-up, freeze, don't nothing move but the money

You can't afford to pay attention--it's free, dummy!

Class is in, cash the topic, you failed, watch and learn

Set the city on fire, cremated, get it a urn

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Unholy Night

A. W. Nutter
Monotonous music assaults my ears
The beat, becoming a hypnotic tone
To half clad men as nighttime nears
Dancing around their prayer stone
Worshiping the ancient engravings
A Lycan, portrayed as the master
The human reduced to groveling
Begging for mercy from his captor
The music increases in intensity
Chanting from the dancers begins
Working themselves into a frenzy
Ready to release the beast within
Random killing, is not their mission
The Trinities plan must be defiled
To destroy mans hope of salvation
The pack, seeks Bethlehem's child
As soon as transformation begins
The right hand of God will fall
Saving the son from demons sins
Gods warriors, answering the call
The mens faces begin distorting
Howls of pain, fills the night air
Signal given, warriors descending
Lycans trapped within our snare

Swords are drawn, blood is spilled
The head Lycan, begging for mercy
Raising my sword prophesy fulfilled
Last of the breed killed for his heresy

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4:20, Four- Twenty, The Earth Day Birthday

Contractual agreements with publisher caused DELETION

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In The Moment

                                            In The Moment

                                              Celtic music 
                                          I hear the music
                                        Sweet,sweet, music
                                           Soothes my body 
                                  The flow of the music, comely
                                       Drums rum, rum beat 
                               My body sways to the sweet beat
                               The flutes bounce around in tune 
                                     Body sways and swoons 
                              The sound of the Drum, rum, rum
                        Harpsichord plays with the drum, rum, rum
                      The harp plucks the string with the drum beat
                                          To a slow beat
                       Oh, how pleasant the sounds of Celtic music
                          I can hear music, sweet, sweet music

By Eve Roper 12/26/2014

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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

My Green could fill-up a Bay, need a few Packers

Haters look, fold and crumble like Ritz-crackers

Money comes and goes, but you know mine stays

Like a well-trained dog, sometimes it even lays

Money brings power, respect, gotta' have the jewels

Call me a handy-man, I stay with my tools

I know it sounds messed-up, but it's money-over-everything

My weight's been up, you just started like a flower in spring

My money keeps flippin', like some Burgers on a grill

Money on me heavy, like a work-out, makes me sweat fo'real

Active, got a million hustles, I'm motivated and dedicated

Call me and money happily married, we can't be separated

Not talking movies, but I bet you ain't seen this in a while

My money's long, go 'head, call it the green mile

Long as I'm stashing cash, I'll always come out on top

Like a junkie smokin' dope, me making money won't stop

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Sweet Melody

On the evening breeze
the sweet melody of birds
is the only sound I hear,
music without words.

They sing the setting sun
to its nightly rest
and bid adieu to day
as they settle in their nest.

Like an orchestra they play,
different notes from each one.
I'm surrounded by their melody
as I watch the setting sun.

On the evening breeze
the sweet melody of birds,
filling my soul with joy,
music without words.

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Those days of youth

Those days of youth

Long gone the days when I was young
When life was just a ball of fun
Movies, music, boys and all
Growing up was such a ball.

After school we would all meet
And play our music, it was sweet
Guys like Bill Hayley were our choice
And Elvis, he had such a lovely voice

We’d rock and roll would we for countless hours
Oh, we could sure get off on music’s power
Then when it came to head on home again
Jeeze I had a lot of aches and pains.

Nothing could replace those days of old
Twas in those days our manner was so bold
Those days they were the best part of my life
But never did we get ourselves in strife.

Vera duggan 26 August 201

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Streets made me, that's why I bleed cement
Your hour has come, your time is spent
My strap spoils fools, expiration date
Class was in, you din't participate

Slide on you like a pair of sandals

Light you up like a set of candles

At the free-throw, shootin' like I was fouled

No puttin' on shows, I don't like a crowd

Keep it on the low, like a bottom bunk

Shut you out, slam the door, like a dunk

The game's on lock, no gettin' in, Fort-knox

Secured, with bullet-proof glass, and you're throwin' rocks?

Domination, this is a take-over

You're drunk-drivin', I'm fully-focused, sober

Call me a bench-warmer, I don't play games

Put you in a box, not talkin' picture frames

Point blank, with my glock, that's a snapshot

Kill competition, that's my infamous plot

With no one runnin', I'm winning the race

Losing's not an option, I only know first place

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A Shining Star

            you are one that makes me smile
                you seem to have that Chicago style ~

            you a Man with music in his heart
                 being born an Artist at the start~

            Am I sure you know whom you are ?
              In this World people can bring you down
                Or they can make you feel a Star ~

           You a Poet , you a friend , a Music Man 
              If you have forgotten then I wish to remind ~

            Dan Our Poet very loving I find
              Never a doubt a Gentleman in my mind ~

             For Dan ' Da Bears Man ' 
                If you have ever forgotten ..
                well let me remind,  of one so kind ~
           A shining Star you are ..Shanity Rain

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Grandpa's Fiddle

Grandpa was a jolly fellow so talented and so wise.
He could plant a row of corn as straight as the arrow flies!
He was a very handy carpenter never once hitting his thumb, 
And he built barns "'squar' with the world", never out of plumb!

He was very adept with fiddle and bow to everyone's delight,
Except for Grandma who thought the consarned thing a fright!
He'd sit for hours 'neath the old sycamore tree sawing away.
She'd heard the same tunes for sixty years, much to her dismay! 

He was a great old-time fiddler, of that there was no doubt.
Why, he could've topped Roy Acuff should they have had a bout!
His elbows and fingers flew as he played "Turkey in the Straw"!
Friends and neighbors tapped their toes, listening to him in awe!

Summer nights we'd sit on the front porch 'neath a Hoosier moon,
Listening raptly as he played a mellow or a haunting tune.
He'd play a rousing "Orange Blossom Special" for the house,
Then switch to a lilting rendition of "The Blue Danube Waltz" by Strauss.

Grandpa's old fiddle is stilled now, it hangs upon the wall,
Though I suspect he's fiddling for the angels, saints and all,
As good old blue grass music from his golden fiddle flows,
And a bemused Saint Peter surreptitiously taps his toes!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved

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Another new day does start

Another new day does start

The sun is rising up above
It’s these mornings that I love
Big yellow moon is slowly fading
You’d never, ever find me trading
These mornings, not for anything
They always make my old heart sing
Soft music playing in the background
Is mixed with soft and lovely bird sound

Corella's squabble in the trees
They’re argumentative
Black cockatoos they fly so free
Oh what I wouldn’t give 
To fly with them in the deep blue sky
Screeching with delight
They bring such happiness to me
Make my day so bright.

The olive trees light up so bright
Beneath the morning sun
I feel like dancing with delight
This morning just begun
It does these wondrous things to me
Such joy is in my heart
As I feel this wondrous mystery
Another day does start

5 November 2014

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I spit game proper, like a pro-batter, I got the right stroke
I work deals, like it's Black-Friday, I'm far from broke
I can't help but make the girl proud and gay
Want some of my time, like takes, you too gotta' pay

She don't act up, but she's so bad, discipline

Put her in time-out, punishment, a great beatin'

When I'm hittin' her good, she calls me daddy

I'm her trophy, showcase me, friends wish they had me

Too easy, always give it up, her man call it robbery

Termite, loves wood, told me have my log handy

Do what I order, like a puppet, no-strings-attached

Not a crook, but like a purse, your chick got snatched

Not intimate, gold-digger, money makes her cum

It's me, her, and a bag of money, three-sum

You got flushed-down-the-drain, but I'm the crap, feces

You're gone, don't make 'em like me, endangered species

Got fire-wood, leave the 'coochie' smoking like a Newport

Done with you, on to the next, long stick, but life's short

Get attached, space myself, I come around less

Bad sex, back-stabbing, bull, I ain't with the B.S

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An Ordinary Chore

Swaying with electrical cord to the rhythmic hum
of my new vacuum cleaner, I relax into thoughts 
of slow dancing with you. My hands steadily drum
to the soft music playing inside my head. Caught
between the background of little boy’s morning cartoons
and a moment of my own, the vacuum drowns out 
reality of a Tuesday morning. I whistle the tune
of our wedding song and picture you going about
your day alone at your desk, wondering as I croon,
if you, too, are thinking of me. After all these years,
I still find happiness in thoughts of you. Lost in a June
day from long ago, I steal a smile then imagine you here
with me, dancing barefoot on freshly vacuumed carpet.
An ordinary chore, the vacuum cleaner’s hum 
still spurs memories of us too extraordinary to forget. 

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One Hit Wonders

My old forty fives lie dormant in my attic
There were so many one hit wonders in our time
I lived my youth listening to music
As Troy Shondell moaned “This Time”
When Robin Luke sang “Susie Darlin’”
The Bobettes had “Mr. Lee”
“Shout, Shout, Knock Yourself Out”
Lolita’s “Sailor, Your Home is the Sea”
Claudine Clark wailed “Party Lights”
Ral Donner crooned “Please Don’t Go”
The Exciters said “Tell Him”
Travis and Bob said “Tell Him No”
“Mission Bell” by Donnie Brooks
“One Tin Soldier”, Coven said it all
 Russ Hamilton sang “Rainbow”
“Baby, The Rain Must Fall”
“Sorry, I Ran All The Way Home”
The Rocky Fellers Sang “Killer Joe”
Corsairs crooned “Smoky Places”
Bob Moore sang about “Mexico”
There must be 10, 000 one hit wonders
Don’t know which ones to choose
Still love “Let’s think About Livin’”
And the Fendermen’s “Mule Skinner Blues”
I remembered watching the Hit Parade
“Cindy Oh Cindy” and “Marianne”
“To Know Him Is To Love Him”
"Like a Tiger" by Fabian.

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Streets made me, that's why I bleed cement
Your hour has come, your time is spent
My strap spoils fools, expiration date
Class was in, you din't participate

Raised your hand, it's good to ask questions

Pay attention, don't cost much, even in recessions

Beginning of the end, this is a take-over

If you're sluggish, better move over

Came from the bottom, now I'm elavatin'

Fully focused, like I'm testin'

Keep my eyes on the prize, ignore distractions

Reflexes like a cat, no late reactions

Ain't playin' in movies, but I'm quick to act

I'm an over-achiever, I never lacked

Like an all-in pot, I gave it everything

Married to the game, I got it a ring

Devoted to money, never catch me cheatin'

To me, getting paid is better than skeetin'

Hustling is like Viagra for making cash

At times it gets hard, and it makes it last

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My City's Rebirth

Ridiculous. Never have you met a brother to ever have explosiveness. Like a pyrotechnic you know that I will stay blowin' this. Beat up till'  I wake the streets up. Because Gary, Indiana needs a spiritual re-up. My city is sobbing and it's looking for some perfection. because it's spirit has left it's body. Call it astral projection. This is how Gary raps. The best thing since Mike Jack. And it can't get no better than that. 

And so begins my city's rebirth. The Midwest the quickest rappers ever seen on this green earth. Too rappers try to race us, they need to reverse. Because too many lyrics coming at you upon this mean verse. The G is the city that not a single soul has tested. If they try us then they will see that we can never be bested. So many people hurt. Twice as many arrested. Our natives don't really care. they're born and raised to be reckless.

The rip and the wreckage that you're seeing on every block. And the cops acting hot when they try to run in your spot. Addicts on the corner are always looking for rocks. And these prostitutes are sexing and sucking on every cock. So many have tried but have never made it to fame. Because they're looking at Gary like a sack of some sour lames. So riches is something that we really couldn't attain. That is until today, because I'm on a whole nother plain.

To be glyph here are stories that go with bringing Gary back to it's former glory. If you're squeamish then cut it off. To be honest this is gory. How I'm gonna chop this beat and cook it like tenderloin. Maybe a ghost town but will never diminish. We're bucked up now. It's a fight to the finish. And that's for anybody trying to snuff my city's rebirth. Off the dome sophistication. No, my lines aren't rehearsed. It's Intel.

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Talbot Elementary School Fifth Grade Bands

Mrs. Lightfoot had taught music at Talbot Elementary School for years.
A couple of her pupils excelled in music but most became engineers.
She sat at her desk to muse upon the past after another trying day,
Recalling events that had contributed to the 'dyeing' of her hair gray!

She remembered concerts when the cacophonous din made her wince,
And Mrs. Lightfoot approached such musicals with foreboding ever since.
But beaming parents saw their prodigies destined for musical acclaim.
(Only one she knew strummed a banjo at the VFW with a modicum of fame!)

Tubby Aruba wrestled with his tuba, ever out of step in the marching band.
Sissie Pyaner tried to emulate Liberace but she battered the concert grand.
For some reason one of the valves on Clyde Crumpet's trumpet always stuck,
And the trombone players could never harmonize - such was their bad luck!

Pat Claret could never adjust her clarinet reeds to eliminate the squeaks.
'Tyke' Biddle fiddled with the bull fiddle but never mastered its techniques.
Hubie Crums thought he was Gene Krupa and went crazy on the drums.
And when it came to playing the French horn, Sydney Corne was all thumbs!

Many times Mrs. Lightfoot thought she'd chosen the wrong speciality path,
And oft' wondered if she should have majored in history or maybe math.
In a couple of years she could lay down her baton one last time and retire,
To reminisce about fatal concerts, bleating horns and inharmonious choir!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved

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No holds barred, utter defeat is what I see in those cards
No holds barred, utter defeat is what I see in those cards

Read these cowards faces like pages of a book

Haters wanna steal my fame, they're something like a crook

They must think I'm a tree, lumber-jackin', trying to see me fall

Can't stop my hustle, pockets on full, theirs looking small

I stay on my feet, similar to a pair of shoes

I'm the Road-runner, they're Wiles-E-Coyote--doing nothing but lose

See me, I'm ballin', even if I was injured I wouldn't quit

When I Rap, I'm a cobra, straight-venom I spit

I see no competition, in this game I'm a predator

Fools get out of place, get erased, call me an editor

I'm the talk of the town, females gossipin', haters hatin'

Hottest in the streets, this ain't an election, no debatin'

I took a couple losses, came across and fought a couple bosses

It's a dirty game, like a mouth you never brushes or flosses

Stay on point, I'm sharper than barb-wire

I'm the king 'round here, so you can call me Sire

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Bucket List Item

I can't play a single musical instrument to save my life.
I guess I could if I really tried, but who has the time
to put aside and sacrifice other pleasures that I indulge religously,
my poetry, love of photography and most importantly,
quality time spent often with my fur babies,
but all is not lost with today's technology.
Computer programs presently allow me
to play any musical instrument professionally,
well, not exactly.
I can program any musical instrument at whatever tone or speed,
or combination thereof to compose a musical masterpiece.

Bucket List Item #, oh whatever, just do it eventually;

Compose And Perform 
One Of The Greatest Music Orchestrations Ever Released,
even though it will only truly be
composed and performed by me virtually
with computer programing technology.

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The madness is closing in,
I can feel its stagnant breath.
It beckons : " It's easier to give in
than face sanity's wrath."

"Hope is but the unforgiving sun,
that leads feathered fools to their deaths.
Fairness is but a laughable pun,
that old men joke to their cats."

I can only find solace
in my digital domain of songs.
Fake stories of love and grace,
the only right in all these wrongs.

The madness is closing in,
I can feel its stagnant breath.
Maybe I should give in,
than follow destiny's path.

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Pity Party

I had the decorations each hung up there to see,
The music I had chosen was in the minor key.
The lighting was quite special--not bright, but very dim
To greet each one who came there as they came walking in.
I sent out invitations to everyone I knew
Each printed in plain letters on paper colored blue.
I sat there now just waiting for the first ones to show,
So sure that to my party so many want to go.
But I sat there so lonely, and full of bitter tears
That in my pity party no one had joined me here.
And now as I sat sulking in my dark room alone
With no one there to join me to hear me cry and moan,
I didn’t enjoy my party like I was sure I would;
If only others joined me, I thought it would be good.
But as I opened letters of their RSVP,
And I read all their reasons they could not be with me,
It seemed they had their problems much greater than my own,
They didn’t want my party where I would make mine known.
Then came that final letter, a page of golden hue
That seemed to come from heaven or somewhere beyond the blue.
It was a simple picture:  a man upon a tree,
So beaten and so bloody, not a nice sight to see.
His outstretched hands were held there by two old rusty nails,
And crowds below were watching; with voices they did rail.
I cried then as I saw Him bear all my pain and sin
And asked Him to forgive me and bring me peace within.
Then, as I prayed, my party seemed such a waste and sham
As I thought about that Savior, God’s precious, dying lamb.
I changed the decorations, the music now was bright,
The room that once was dismal now shone with brilliant light.
My pity party’s over; come now, my friends, and see
What this great, precious Savior did for a soul like me!

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No holds barred, utter defeat is what I see in those cards
No holds barred, utter defeat is what I see in those cards

It's a dirty world, but my heat's considered hand sanitizer

Made my dreams become reality, I'm not a big 'fanisizer'

My trap got cheese, but I'm trying to keep away rats

Life's a gamble, take a chance, like playing craps

Time to take you to school, and money's the topic

Smokin' on Jamaica helps me focus, I keep something tropic

Cash rules everything 'round me and it's in my pocket

That means I'm in control, if this was a plane, I'm in the cockpit

I'm a hustler, got more bricks than a construction site

I stay fresh, I'm flyer than a first-class flight

By any means necessary, hard times call for drastic measures

Get in my way, and get buried like pirate's treasures

Never see me fold, it's like I got the winning hand in Poker

I'm more dangerous than cancer in the lungs of a smoker

Talk crazy, catch a hook, how's that for a punchline

Show me the competition, I call that lunch-time

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Monkey Blues

The Organ Grinder is Grinding
The monkey isn't there
He ate to many bananas
Now he's in Hospital care

The Grinder keeps on turning
He's grinding that old crank
He's looking for donations
To put into his Bank

He's under lots of pressure
To pay the hospital bills
The monkey bit the doctor
He didn't want any pills

Life is such a grind
With a Monkey on his back
The doctor sued for all he's worth
Now he's living in a shack

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The Typewriter

Typewriter Symphony

Borge played
with fingers splayed.  

Not one key stuck 
Or gone amuck.

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The Dedicated

Emotions so fervent, the mind of the dedicated
With a path so rough he wonders how he tolerates it
But he keeps moving with a steady locomotion
Through stormy valleys and turbulent oceans

Once or twice, he may have hesitated
But his reasons weren't languid, unsated
He looked around at his life
Tempestuous eyes making sure his is path right

He stumbles forward though dark unstable passageways
Always facing his goal, vehement not to turn away
He's like a strong tower, beaten but still standing
No one knows when it'll fall or where it would be landing

He's not too proud to tell you that he never cries
But it's a desperate situation when tears leave his eyes
Usually involving the loss of something vital in his life
But with a kings golden spirit he makes that sacrifice

He reaches his goal, basked in satin moonlight
He kept moving, kept the finish line in sight
And at last he can sit on his throne
Smiling because people that told him he wasn't going to make it...were wrong

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Death by Beauty

A smile moves across her lips
She gazes at her crime
A scar across her flesh and soul
To haunt her for all time
She’ll waste away for all she cares
Never stops to use her brain
Doesn’t care about the ones who are close
All she cares about is pain

She wants to be what the others expect of her
Doesn’t care about the self-respect for her
A rose can’t be a forget-me-not
Can’t she see what all she has got

Never to go back again
She feels the world is at an end
She will never show her grief
Although she’ll cry in empty streetS

She’d sooner live like a desolate mole
Living in fear in an empty hole
Screaming silent wails alone
Content to live in her mental home

A final tear falls from her eye
It hits the ground, it’s followed by
A beautiful body, mutated by hate
A kind word could have stopped it, but it is too late
One two many bricks in the wall in her mind
Molding her demise because her heart was blind
This self conscious being could never have won
For she was destroyed by the beautiful ones

She wouldn’t fight back, wouldn’t respect herself
In the end, she managed only to wreck herself
A rose can’t be a forget-me-not
Little did she know, she had all she had sought

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Livin ' by the Sea

livin’ on  the beach in a hut by the sea 
green grass , warm gentle breezes and all kinds of lovely trees  .
I’m gonna  beat the heat to make my retreat sittin  by the sea
Cause its winter in the world cept livin  here with me 
I am happy to make your acquaintance 
And  i raise a glass to your health , long life and prosperity 
So peace my friends and welcome to the sea 
Where the music is  playin’ ,the sun is shinin’, the people gentle and free
No hassles from the man and no worries will make your day go bad 
Lay back and hear the music that wont  be sad
The sounds  will keep you cool listenin’ to the beat       
 The sun and the gentle warm breezes 
All the pretty girls in bare feet  paradin’ down the street
 where livin  is easy and laid back like u want life to be
 Plenty food and drink for you    man 
  To sing and dance the night away 
Come down to the sea and live your life away 

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Hood fellow, pull her hair like I do the trigger
Plenty of cash, don't care if she's a gold-digger
She broke-up with her ex and got me, lost and found
Get in bed, take out my pistol, let off a round
Shoot her up, shoot her up, bang, bang
Blowing on my mic', the best song she ever sang

Got flavor, cold with all this ice, like a 'Slurpee'

Got something for your chick to drink, she slurps me

Definitely ain't praying, but she gets on her knees

Her head game is fire, nine-hundred-degrees

It's like she's educating me, gives me good brain

While she's down there, I pull her hair, like a horse's mane

She's a vampire, sucking on the neck of my second head

Not the one on my shoulders, but the one used in bed

She told me to eat her out, went down and bit it

She can't stand violence, but loves the way I hit it

Beat the 'Coochie' up, bedroom turned into a boxing arena

Call it domestic violence, no court, no subpoena

Riding me, I'm thinking 'bout gettin' her a saddle

We rocking the boat right now, ain't got a paddle

Making a movie, this the best part, 'bout to climax

She loves when I come over, got everything her man lacks

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Sounds in my Life

Being a baby of the fifties
musical sounds were always a rave
beginning in sixties with the fab four
Cliff, Elvis and ONJ were my fav

The seventies really got me hooked
the punk scene was originally vibrant
along with Kate Bush and Debbie's Blondie
this was time for seeds with a musical plant

In my reclusive days loved Dory Previn
really took me down inside of me
also loved country's Emmylou and Dolly
Cash man, Crystal and Billie Jo made me free

In past decade caught on to classical
Jenkins, Bocelli and Netrebko made superb voice
also love harp, violin and cello
hooked on Benedetti, Hahn and Mutter as my supreme choice

Also love sounds of guitar and trumpet
it brings such a soothing sound
calms one's nerves to zero
so a new person in you is found

There you have my musical world
effecting me in many a way
creating a mind to write in rhyme
bringing comfort and blessing to my day

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My Kingdom

My Kingdom

When I’m in my garden
I’m a King, I have a throne
I sit here very solitary
I am happy on my own

All my subjects gather round
The birds, the flowers, the trees
And all those noisy Sand gropers
The frogs, and all the bees.

Canaries have a special place
They play music for my court
Often wild birds join along
As I sit wrapped in thought.

My courtyards are not tidy
All the bushes cling together
But hey, they give me so much shade
In our hot sticky weather.

So I sit and write my memoirs down
Like a good King really should
As I sit here in my kingdom
And I really feel so good.

28 August 2013 @ 1419hrs.

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"Sit Down Young Stranger"  And I'll tell you a story
Of a troubadour who sang about "The Way I Feel"
I stood in his "Shadows" just "East of Midnight"
Couldn't believe my "Summertime Dream" was real
I "Salute" the man who sang about "Sundown"
His music helped ease my strife
Traveling his "Carefree Highway" I found
"Harmony" in the "Summer Side of Life"
"If You Could Read My Mind" you'd know
The "Rainy Day People" and the pain
O being left "High And dry" in a "Circle of Steel"
Standing in the "Early Morning Rain"
Now "The Watchman's Gone", there's a "Bend in The Water"
"Rainbow Trout" swim but the "Circle is Small"
I watch "All The Lovely Ladies" as I'm "Alberta Bound"
But they are not on my "Protocol"
I'd do "Anything For Love" , for my sweet "Daylight Katy"
I'd give up all my fortune and fame
Then "I'll Tag Along"  "Restless" and tired
If I knew "Did She Mention My Name"

All Gordon Lightfoot songs in quotation marks.

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You Better Get Right

You better get right, 
You better get right, 
You better, 
You better, 
You better, 
G-e-t R-i-g-h-t! ! ! 

You know, 
they going luv that, 
there going luv that,
they going luv that!!!

Man im stand still, 
where the battie at? 
loose chain point the direction.
hat off you got get that!!!

quick to a loose soup, 
its off me man, pick up, 
and it back on you, 
it's a spoil man.
I but the B in backpack man, 
no this and no crime scene, 
just words and lyrics,
I call C Note so you can see mo. 

From heart to a beat, 
loss it all on a long streak, 
talking about diss, 
this is a small city, 
you got a long way go, 
before you rep this city, 
you aint even put on for your city,
how you going,   
put in for the capital,
so let me captialize on 
what you are call beef, 
and hand you the recipent,
so what the recipe?

Yo B,
go back up and pick up the tap B, 
and call it B-a-g-h-d-a-d ! ! !
now you See Mo to C the Note.

You better get right, 
you better get right, 
You better,
You better,
You better ,
G-e-t R-i-g-h-t! ! ! 

Songs in my heart, 
dont meet the page, 
I guest i call it the luck
of the irsh m-a-n! ! , 
I be the flip of dime
and this time I made all ryhme.

Cat in the Hat!! 

You gone luv that, 
You gone luv that,

You got luv that,
You got luv that, 

Whispher to sky, 
Ask what city im from! ! ! 

You better get right, 
you better get right, 
You better, 
You better
You better 
G-e-t R-i-g-h-t! ! ! ...

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Art, a world of splendor, Calliopes of sight and sound, That stimulate our senses, Expressing life profound. Art, is visual texture, Space, shapes, and colored lines, Its tones and measured values, Of every imaginable kind. Art, is Michelangelo, And his Creation at Sistine, Kandinsky at the Guggenheim, Pablo Picasso at fifteen. Art, is melodic singing, An opera at the Met, Or orchestrated performance, Of audible storytelling silhouettes. Art, is Sarah Brightman, With Bocelli accompanied, The New York Philharmonic, Woodwind, brass, and tenor strings. Art, is famous people and places, Resonating with artistic flair, Paris, Rome, Broadway, and London, Ginger Rogers, and Fred Astaire. Art, is how history captures, A nation’s cultural appeal, Toward things a people value most, Its morals, ethics, and ideals. (This poem is dedicated to my Daughter Courtney, a teacher and tremendous artist in her own right, but most importantly, a lover of all things artistic)

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I spit game proper, like a pro-batter, I got the right stroke
I work deals, like it's Black-Friday, I'm far from broke
I can't help but make the girl proud and gay
Want some of my time, like takes, you too gotta' pay

Like a hole, she do nothing but dig me

I'm like Kurmit the frog, she's miss Piggy

She can't leave me alone, like a mother to an infant

Like soft soil, I step in her life, leave an imprint

I handle her with care, like a fragile antique plate

When she express her feelings, I pretend I can relate

Never catch me cheatin', I'm a true player

I run her, if she's a city, I'm the mayor

Your chick left with me, not coming back--runaway

You ain't do her right, I took her in like a stray

Chicks throwin' me that pussy-cat, do I look like a vet?

They call me Super-soaker, the way I get 'em wet

My damsels come in pairs, like a set of earings

I don't put up with their problems,

I ain't a Judge handling hearings

Want your chick back, take her, can't get a receipt

Funny, how I got you off rhythm, moving to my beat

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Name this Instrument

The first time I heard this I was in disbelief.
As he readied to play he rosined a long bow.
And he played with a flair of beauty and motif, 
“On a hill far away” the notes softly and slow.

Without breaking his stride “In the garden”, he played.
I heard voices of angels in tune through it all.
The heads bow, their lips move, the congregation prayed.
Not intending to preach, someone issued the call.

Through it all the strange notes woefully made demand.
Like a Stradivari, rosined strings strike their hearts.
“Oh why not tonight” played, commanding those at hand,
with small pricks of conscience from the music’s tearful darts

At the end, the blind man, with the bow cross his chair.
Swore he heard the soft voice, Seraphim singing slow.
Saying, now find the thing that was played if you care
should you please rearrange the anagram below

            CASUAL SWIM (two words)

©This poem in anapestic tetrameter for 
Nette’s “sound madness”  contest
24 Oct 2011 Charles Henderson

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Precious is Your Love

Marvin was right.
You are the love of my life.
Heaven must have sent you from above.
Because to me precious is your love.

Marvin is a genius.
Can I get a witness?
Your love is more precious than any stone.
It's stronger than calcium in bones.

Marvin is legendary.
Your love is so precious to me it's scary.
It's more lyrical than a verse in any song.
It's more powerful than any king on the throne.

Precious is your love to me 
I want your love to travel like Marvin
Through my musical history.
The preciousness of your love 
Is truly sent from above.


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Earth Angel

From the moment that I met you,
As I gazed upon your eyes,
I was overwhelmed with comfort,
As I began to realize,
That you are my soul mate,
You balance me out,
That you’re the yin to my yang,
In my mind there’s no doubt,
So I share with you this poem,
To express my emotions,
For you as a person,
They’re as deep as earths oceans,
An earth angel in spirit,
You're living in the light,
You give power unto others,
Through knowledgeable insight,
You’re a beautiful person,
Your hearts filled with love,
You’ve the mind of a goddess,
Intentions pure as doves,
Your figure is as gorgeous,
As the moon and the stars,
You motivate others,
To seek out whom they are,
Your aura shines vibrant,
Your smiles gleam bright,
The advice that you give,
It reflects divine light,
If the whole world could meet you,
They'd begin to believe,
That through thinking divinely,
True beauty is achieved.

Copyright © 2009 Zachary Jackson

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Land of Dante, Michelangelo, Vivaldi, Verdi, Vanvitelli and da Vinci;  
there Julius Caesar spoke these victorious words," Vedi, vidi, vici."
From the majestic snow-capped Alps to the sun-scorched Sicily,
one is astonished by the sea and sky blending to unravel a mystery!

My gorgeous town lays among shady mountains that
protect it from storms and winds coming from the West;  
its vast valley is overlooked by a stately, sturdy castle...
standing as a sentinel that made the invaders tremble. 

Walk with me down the narrow paths flanked by pines, maples and firs
that lead to the scented and harmonious landscapes loved by Ovid,
and adored by Virgil who once saw them on his long travels;
and I being born there, makes me very enthusiastic and glad! 

Not many have seen a splendid sunset stretching as far as Mount Vesuvius;
I stood on that breeze-caressed hill transfixed and vowed by the glorious
spectacle of rosy clouds as shrilling seagulls hovered over a harbor so calm;
I could almost see the swift, white sails returning from a sea still blue and warm! 

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Im flying

The steps of the stage make a sound so crude
The scratch of the speaker gets me right in the mood
The tuning of the instruments is soothing to my ear
The humming of the chorus takes away my pain and fear

I'm flying with music all night long
I'm flying with the lyrics of this song
I'm flying with the rhythm towards the sky
I'm flying in the melody and my heart knows why

This number always releases my inner chains
The beat of the drums is the pulse of my veins
The striking of the keys always takes me higher
The riff of the guitar sets my soul on fire

I'm flying with music all night long
I'm flying with the lyrics of this song
I'm flying with the rhythm towards the sky
I'm flying in the melody and my heart knows why

The roar of the crowd tells me what's in store
Its time to rock and roll as I count from one to four
The harmony of the band will take away my hurt
My life and love is playing a live concert

I'm flying with music all night long
I'm flying with the lyrics of this song
I'm flying with the rhythm towards the sky
I'm flying in the melody and my heart knows why

Details | Rhyme | |

Dance With Me

Pick up your feet and dance with me
And we'll twirl our way through reality,
Beyond mists of doubt and despair
Through shining light so righteous and fair,
Over peaks of hardship and pain
Into lush valleys where joy rains.

Pick up your feet and dance with me
And we'll swirl the depths of churning seas,
We'll waltz across deserts of shifting sands
And groove our way through jungle lands,
We'll dip and swoon under an argent moon
Stepping in time, to a heartfelt tune.

We'll laugh and play the rest of our days
Keeping alive the music that lives inside.

TLH   ©   9-27-2012
Revised: 10-7-2012

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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 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 will find it."

deborah burch©


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The Sky is Crying

12.40am, August 27th 1990 A sadness for many And the music community Stevie Ray Vaughan Chicago bound Helicopter Bell 260B Hillside it found It crashed in the fog Denying my ears To hear SRV For many years In a twist of fate It was his brother's seat Jimmy climbed down The last they would meet Tributes poured in For this guitarist gem Stevie Vai, Buddy Guy Hall of Fame Double Trouble, Southern Class Dallas Texas, brother loss Thank you SRV For the music you brought to me UNSUPPORTED CODE

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Six-Stringed Miracle

Never will I forget that sight-
the strings glistening in the light;
mahogany shining at the base.
I know pure joy beamed on my face.

Beautiful guitar,new-found friend;
to a lonely girl you're a god-send.
Oh, the magic I 'll make with you!
We'll be quite famous before we're through!

I picked it up and gave it a strum-
with emotion I was overcome.
A thousand songs played in my ear
as I held the instrument very near.

This would be my saving grace-
learning to play would give me a place
to paint my feelings into song.
And I would practice all day long.

Now I've had my Martin for forty years.
It helped me overcome my fears;
showed me how to sing of my heart.
It's been a miracle from the start!

Details | Rhyme | |

Country Craziness

Getting rowdy--really loud
Hanging with your country crowd
Having fun with lots of laughter
Nothing seems to really matter
Watching sports and swigging bears
All your troubles disappear
Jukebox playing favorite songs
You can dance to all night long
Cowboy hats--Tight fitting jeans
This is such a sexy scene
Hearing yee-haw and y'all
In a southern country drawl
Dresses twirling on the floor
Dancing like never before
Bull riding and betting on
Who will fall off--just for fun
Red solo cups across the bar
Drunken voices yell yee-haw
Some workdays---every weekend
This enjoyment never ends
Through the warm, cold and hot weather
Family and friends get together
For some harmless fun that lasts
Always having such a blast

Details | Rhyme | |


Movie in the making, viewer discretion
Keep your mouth shut, forget witness protection
Better keep it discreet, avoid detection
Complete the play, can't afford a deflection
This the real deal, it ain't a gimmick
Watch and learn, just don't mimic

Statue-of-liberty, we're holding the torch

Running the race, but ain't competin' in sports

We're like bubbles in champagne, heading to the top

Come at me sideways, like a fish when it flop

Get popped, Glock's off safety, it's cocked

Or like an old rocking chair, get rocked

Leave you like I left your girl's 'coochie', beat-up

Don't want problems, you better speak-up

I'm a heavy-weight, you're lighter than a leaf

Eat you like a T-bone steak, I love beef

Money equals problem, problems come with money

I play the cards I was dealt, I'm good at Rummy

I'm not a treadmill, so don't try 'n' run me

Got money for rainy-days, even for when it's sunny

Like the Super-Dome, I'm on top of the game

I'm in it for the cash, ya'll can keep the fame

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Through this happy season, when everything is green and blue,
we won't see snow-capped hills, or mountains,
only brooks and rivers bubbling in sun rays;
lay down on their bends and hear their music as children do!

An Australian spring is unique and beautiful, everybody
is welcome to join us in song;
bring your flute, guitar and drum...
make music in jovial air while it harmonizes with serenity!

Through these four short months,
feel lively and observe the eager butterflies kiss wildflowers, 
but an occasional rain may fall from the vagrant clouds...
see its gentle raindrops delight open eyes!

An Australian spring is unique and beautiful,
especially in the wilderness and countryside; 
down here, isn't spring unforgettable?
Let's run faster than kangaroos that seem to glide!

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Making this cash, I hope that it last
Make sure my dreams don't shatter like glass
Living in the streets, got me moving fast
I can't let this opportunity in my grip pass
Gotta' get this cash, gotta' get this cash

I found the money tree, went and got my rake

Now it's like everyday's my birthday, I stay with cake

Get money, everything else will fall in place

It'll hold you down, without it, zero gravity, outer-space

Money's like the sun, my world revolves around it

Got a pool full of cash, jump-in and drown in it

I'm chasing this cash, like a cat do mice

Gotta' get this bread, I'm talking more than a slice

I need a whole loaf, I'm trying to eat a meal

Fry you like bacon, pig, if you ever squeal

See me gettin' bread, wanna snitch, 'cause you're a hater

I'm done eatin', tip you, like you're a waiter

Break you off, just to keep you off my trail

Didn't even start my journey yet, 'bout to set sail

Money galore where I've been, but more where I'm going

Like blood in veins, till the day I die, the cash keeps flowing

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A Daydream

 An ornate vase brightens the dimly lit room
 Where a beautiful girl sits,  deep in  thought
  And as her daydream begins to bloom
 She reaches for the the dreams she's sought

Perhaps she's composing a symphony
Or playing in a concert hall
Maybe she's had an epiphany
Where rhapsodies enthrall

She may have a song in her heart
Whose melody she's trying to find
And as I watch her daydream, in abstract thoughts divine
Her song she thus imparts
upon this page of mine 

 She  places  one hand  on the piano, in delicate sleeve of lace
 The other   rests   thoughtfully on an open book
As  she journeys to that distant place
Where  only the mind can look

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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

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THE 70's

Here's the skinney 
on tonight's party
the funk is really 
going to fly
Boys, get off early 
from your gigs
It's gonna be cool-city
Rocky Mountain high

The theme for the party
is the 70's
I hear that Dick Clark's 
going to be in town
Wolfman Jack is bringing
the Midnight Special
Going to blow your mind
out of sight, it's going down

The doorbell rings
here's fros and feathers
Mini-skirts & hip-huggers
seem to be the rage
My blue leisure suit
it's irresistible
Who's that bunny
dancing in the cage

Baby you got a body 
like a brick house
Those beautiful eyes 
are glued on me
Make me bananas 
please do me a solid
Let's boogie till morning.. 
It'll be groovy

My friends said dream on
now who's smiling
Gee your hair smells terrific
Breck spray kept it right
You took me to the max
the force is with you
Right on good looking
I'll catch ya tonight

But for now it's time
to blow this joint 
I work for the Man
so I got to book 
Promise that you'll
catch me on the flip side
You're so far out baby
I dig you.. I'm hooked

Contest: Kelley's "Decades"

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From Quarrymen

Paul met John twanging banjo, singing a medley
Awed at what he heard playing by The Quarrymen
Five became four struggling to reach a destiny
Boarding a plane on an eternal trip since then

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Making this cash, I hope that it last
Make sure my dreams don't shatter like glass
Living in the streets, got me moving fast
I can't let this opportunity in my grip pass
Gotta' get this cash, gotta' get this cash

Bread hungry, starving, like I got a tape-worm

Never enough, no matter how much, bread I burn

School of hard-knocks, when will you fools learn

Give up, chance expired, now it's my turn

You shouldn't hate the player, hate the game

Losers, there's no cheat codes, you haters' lame

You know the bread's coming in, special delivery

M.O.E, in God I trust, please deliver me

Hamiltons, Benjamins, and any other dead pres'

Money brings power, better do what Simon-Says

Since I got the cash, do whatever I order

You're not gettin' paper? Must have a disorder

The money train's coming, I got my ticket

That means I'm hopping on board, try not to miss it

Better call the bomb squad, and try not to blow it

Moving fast, gettin' this cash, no time to slow it

Details | Rhyme | |

Lullaby for You

Hushaby little girl, 
The bright daylight is fading.
Rockaby, close your eyes, 
For the sandman is waiting.
In the light of the moon
I will sing you a tune.
Shed your fears, no more tears,
You are in Heavens keeping.
Hushaby, please don’t cry
Angels watch while you’re sleeping.
Say your prayers, shed your cares,
And just know that we love you.
We’ll be there when you call
And we’re all thinking of you.
Hushaby, hushaby, hushaby-  zzz

By: Joyce Johnson
For PD's "Send Me to Sleep" Contest

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Penny Serenade

Dancing outside the saloon,
they toss pennies at his feet.
On his harmonica he plays,
a tune, off key, up beat.

On his head of sparse grey hair,
he sports an old top hat.
His tattered coat of tailored tails,
frames a frayed and worn cravat. 

On a thin frame the tux does hang,
his pants, held up with twine.
You can't help, but to think,
he is from another time.

Come rain or shine, he is there.
Tip of his hat to all the girls.
He gives a nod of thanks at each sound,
as round his feet, the pennies swirl.

Details | Rhyme | |

Always the same

I remember the smiles
From a thousand miles,
The crowd that gathered,
The smiling baby to be fathered,
The blessings made,
That their hopes do not fade,
I heard the general chorus,
The strength, the happiness, the force.
But a different group,
Came in a huge troop,
All, new faces of a different birth,
To witness a fallen strength.

Details | Rhyme | |


Cash makes the world go round, spin
Don't I look like money, that's my twin
Gettin' money, like it's going out of style
I keep throwing it up, like it's bile
Got cash all over me, like it's a rash
You better chase that paper, stack that cash

Start it up like the kick-off, I'm the punter

I'm looking for the bucks, like a dear hunter

Lunatic with the paper, money-crazy

I sit back and count it, they call me lazy

Countin' all this money gave me paper cuts

Pockets' on full, fatter than donkey butts

I got eight figures, like I was ice skatin'

That's figure eight's, you know what I'm relatin'

I got bands, not the ones on your wrist

Yellow canary jewels, same color as piss

No manners, go to the bathroom when you pissed

Mad at me 'cause me and your girlfriend kissed?

She's curious, wanna know how money taste

Your chick's gone, like the T.V. show, 'Without-A-Trace'

Just like the problems, money comes with females

I'm bringing in all this paper from street sales

Details | Rhyme | |

John Lennon

Imagine if he'd lived,
The words he would have sung,
The songs he could have crafted 
Had he not died so young.

Imagine if he'd lived,
If death could be reversed.
Would he still be promoting peace   
Across the universe?

Imagine if he'd lived,
Would people still believe
That he was just a dreamer
Dreaming double fantasies?

Imagine if he'd lived,
The truths he would have sought. 
But instant karma failed him
With one fool and four shots.

Imagine if he'd lived -
But we're the dreamers now
Dreaming of the many ways
To make the wheels go 'round

Details | Rhyme | |


Movie in the making, viewer discretion
Keep your mouth shut, forget witness protection
Better keep it discreet, avoid detection
Complete the play, can't afford a deflection
This the real deal, it ain't a gimmick
Watch and learn, just don't mimic

You're on the outside looking in, shut the blinds

I'll bust your head if you ever cross that line

Pay attention to yours and stay out of mine

You know I got rank, my crew got my spine

I mean my back, they always show me support

Raised sons, glad I never had to abort

Never had to erase 'em, stayed in their lane

They left a mark on my life, like a birth-stain

You're thinking mark, that's 'cause you're a buster

Step ya' game up, ketchup, no mustard

You mess with me and my 'youngings' start gunnin'

Act like my cars, motor-up and start runnin'

Wouldn't have happened if you'd stayed out my face

Act like a mannequin, stay in your place

There's no rules in the game, no ref

Better act right, or end up gettin' left

Won't stop till it's over, I ride to the finish

Got a sick squad, so watch how I win this

Details | Rhyme | |

Heal The Pain

The smooth guitar strings lurk into visions
Sweeping sounds and soothing incisions 
The piano marks its day in the light
Each chord of brilliance owning the night

It’s difficult to imagine your kind of life
Emptied of thought I live among strife
So much to do and so little time
But still in a whirl we watch it all fly

And I’ll just walk on by in the cool of day
For there’s no backstage, there’s just today
Before you storm over and wash me away
Surely music will heal the pain
Heal the pain 

Get out of your stupor, don’t run out tonight
I invited you here as a way to be kind
Yesterday we smiled and today we cried 
Break away the nerves and come right inside

And I’ll just walk on by in the cool of day
For there’s no backstage, there’s just today
Before you storm over and wash me away
Surely music will heal the pain

You think I’m the savior—get out of my tide!
I realize that merriment only lives blind
There’s no need to collect the treasures I find
Living moments and making them is all that I’ll try

And I’ll just walk on by in the cool of day
For there’s no backstage, there’s just today
Before you storm over and wash me away
Surely music will heal the pain
Heal the pain

Each chord of mastery owning the night
The piano shines brilliantly in the light
Bursting sounds and effortless incision
The smooth guitar molds its life to your vision

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Coloring Music With A Pen

                                    An artist can paint a scene with colors so abstract...
                              A musician can create sounds that flow from front to back...
                                     But a poet can play with words and form images
                                              that each set of eyes can draw from...
                                     A simple phrase that shouts to one ear can easily
                                                         hum to another one...
                                       When you look at a painting you can write what 
                                                            you see or feel...
                                        As when you play a tune you can scribble words
                                                     that will make it alive and real...
                                         My instrument is my pen and my blank sheet is
                                                                    my canvas...
                                           Together I write from dreams all so precious...

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Dance with me

I want to take your hand
And dance with you, on the silver sand
To Nature’s beat and the rhythm of the sea

I want to watch you sway
To the pulsating sounds of club deejay
Lost in the music with your hair flying free

I want to see you dance inside
Mesmerised, as the dancers glide
Across the stage to Prokofiev or Tchaikovsky

I want to take you to our bed
And dance to the music in your head
Lost in the ballet, swaying free
Liquid motion, like the sea
Pulsating to nature’s sensual beat
Glistening in the flames of our passionate heat

Come dance with me…

Details | Rhyme | |

Let the music play on

I'll play for you my violin
and draw my bow across its strings
To manage well the tones I'll send
and feel the joy it always brings

I'll capture cords from deep within
Play each string in a fine ballet
To cradle well under my chin
and let its sounds have their say

There is no greater joy for me
To let you hear an artist strong
To share this love, to comfort thee
My violin sings its tender song

contest Let the music play on

Details | Rhyme | |

The New Santa Claus

I'm locking up my house, because it's that time for thieves.
I need to Santa proof my place, because It's Christmas Eve.
If he does get in, I'm going to run and hide.
I left out some milk and cookies with rat pellets inside.
While he's eating the cookies and he's starting to sweat.
The reindeer will be caught in security nets.
"I'm sorry boys and girls, but Santa has to retire!"
I'm going to tie him to the tree and set poor Santa on fire.
Then I'm going to take the toys and keep them all to myself.
Even though I've been bad, no coals will be on my shelf.
Merry Christmas to me! This year is going to be grand!
I'll get whatever I want, if Christmas goes as I planned!
Wearing Santa Claus' suite I'll get in houses without keys.
In twenty seven minutes I'll rob twenty seven trees!
So all you little brats, don't you cry and sob.
With the recession and depression, I just needed a job.
A lot of things are going to change, but you all shouldn't be sad.
Now that I'm the new Santa, It doesn't matter who's bad.
I'll use the elves as my slaves and the toys will still come.
Instead of a Nintendo, you'll get a gallon of rum.
Toy guns are for babies, how about the real thing?
A candy neckless won't impress, I'll make sure that it's bling.
You said you wanted a pony? How about a deer that can fly?
No more lousy presents, no more socks, or bad ties.
I'll change... 
Wait... Wait a minute... Was that all just a dream?
Why do I only have coal under the tree and in my stocking?
Santa please come back! I promse I'll be better next year!
I promise I'll be good and I'll spred more Christmas cheer!

Did Santa Claus come back? Did he come like I thought he should?
No Santa didn't, but next year I'll be good!
I'll only do what is right, aleast to his satisfaction.
So he comes back to my house, and my plan goes back into action!

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Jazz & Blues music is a delight to every soul seeking a ray of moonlight, 
even Madonna and Beyonce wear the kind of jazzy clothes
that attract handsome guys on city streets and in fancy clubs...
hear those loud saxophones that make everyone dream at night!

Jazz & Blues music is very popular in sunny Napoli...
the beautiful city on the azure and peaceful bay;
listen to the song, " Naples is..." sung by Pino Daniele: it's the spirit
of a-once-suppressed people, now shrugging off prejudice and doubt!

And New Orleans, once devastated by Katrina still echoes
with the sounds of Jazz & Blues despite it's many visible woes;
the twin cities embrace the same music to uplift them in very tough days...
while hoping for a better and brighter tomorrow that will offer many joys!

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The voice rises on high
Traveling skies of blues
Gliding over mountain heights
Sliding down valleys of green hues.

Another rises from a wooded alcove
To join in the play of the first one
They fly together over flowery meadows
Following the path of the river song.

A thrill runs through the air
Shaking the leaves on the trees
Making flowers wave as they stare
With open face at the sun's stream.

Hear the birds respond to the duet
Singing along in joyful laughter
The voices in crescendo, feeling upheld
By the music played along by nature.

At times, the voices run parallel
Then in opposite, from high to low
They meet in a light quarrel
Laughing it off to rest in a flowery meadow. 

By CarolineCécile
Copyright © 07.10.10

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Is this a true story or a legend still believed by the locals? 

Somewhere in Southern Texas,
there's a small church with a white marble cross
which sways as desert willows...
when the crisp ocean's morning breeze  blows. 

The Spanish Missionaries built it
with rocks that rolled down the cliff 
to honor Christ, the conqueror of death...  
then the natives were converted by it.

Overlooking the Gulf of Mexico and hidden
among palm trees, this sanctuary was forbidden
to anyone who had an extra matrimonial affair,
and the one who disregarded it, would have died there.

How can anyone, who worshiped God with a bowed head,
have cursed this house of prayer where the faithful prayed?
Was he an excommunicate monk who had rebelled against the Pope?
Had that harsh punishment turned into vengeance tighter than a rope? 

It still remains a mystery linked to a superstitious legend causing disarray;
there was a well-known, lantern-lit den of witches not far away...
they sold potions in exchange for cornmeal and homemade Tequila,
and they got drunk every Sunday while the organ played, " Ave Maria."

Somewhere in Southern Texas,
I stand on the decaying steps
of a Baroque Church that angels still defend,
noticing the deep columns cracks filled with sand.

Written by Andrew Crisci
for Constance's contest,
" The Church By The Ocean "
October 1, 2011

Details | Rhyme | |

Sad song

I'm tired of hearing that same song
That same mournful and sad beat
A slow tempo with a soft tone
That causes your eyes to leak

The sad moaning of the violin
Mixing with the steady heartbeat of the drums
Emotions that were forced to stay hidden
Exploding like a number of silent bombs

Feelings so strong heading to the climax
The beat breaks with an emotional release
The mental battle between the sword and ax
Before you can attain an emotional peace

Eyes red from painful tears
As the mind and body slowly recover
The sad song finally ends
But then it is played over and over

Details | Rhyme | |

In The Moment

Listening to Pitbull's newest cd,
One moment it's just him and me.
Words muse and musically inspired,
Lyrically hero always admired.
A special treat after a day of stress,
I'm in love with Pitbull, I confess.
Smooth talking rapper golden tongue,
Hanging on the lyrics spiderweb spun.
A retreat from my scattered style,
Putting my own life on hold a while,
If I only minutes, it be seconds well spent,
When I turn it up, Pitbull is in the moment.

For Contest: In the moment
*Casarah Nance*

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My minds at ease
My spirit is free

I feel the wind beneath my feet
As I jump and spin
To this hypnotic beat

Move left, move right
Jump up, Bend down
I follow this beat all over town

Neither here nor there
But I hear it everywhere

This beat’s in my soul
I lose all control

Joy surrounds me
The sound astounds me

I'm on cloud nine
Mind so clear
Stress behind
Left in the rear

Happiness fulfilled
With the art of dance
My escape from reality
When I get the chance

With power so strong
To move me along
Forever I'm tuned
To the beat of a song.

Details | Rhyme | |

Trans-Siberian Orchestra

I am listening to some wonderful music this season. The Trans-Siberian Orchestra is the reason. The sounds they produce are a sensation. Combining modern sounds with classic is a fascination. Such glorious Christmas music is what they play. They have me in the spirit for the holiday.

Details | Rhyme | |

Soothing Melodies

Songs can soothe me.
   Lift me up high.
      Calm my rough sea.
          And make me sigh.
              Set my soul free.

By Deb Wilson
for Twenty/Twenty contest
sponsored by David Williams

Details | Rhyme | |

Celtic Music

The hypnotic strains of Celtic music
comforts the weary drums of my ears.
These lulling sounds caress the harsh air,
bringing notes of healing to dry my glass tears.
I submerge myself in this spiritual balm,
washing my bitter soul in the melody's pleasing rain.
Soft voices stroke my bruised mind,
while the musical breeze strangles emotional pain.
Angelic tones float through my tired body,
whipping the hardened criminal known as stress.
Waves of harmonic sounds connect
with my dancing skin's invisible dress.
Each poetic song beats upon my heart's drum,
awakening my sleeping spirit to musical joy.
As I surrender myself to the Celtic magic,
a laughing goddess plays with her human toy.

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Music is my escape
I sing along every second I can
It is the only place
Where people seem to understand

I sing at the top of my lungs,
Sing every word from my heart,
I eventually start to feel numb,
And soon I will fall apart.

I start crying and choke on my words,
I can no longer sing, too busy crying my eyes out.
My vision starts to blur,
That is true, without a doubt.

I’m crying because the music I listen to,
Seems to know my life story,
And it seems to know my feelings too,
These songs just scream out my whole back story.

I relive the moments the songs are talking about,
How they are all gone, or how they had hurt me. 
I just want to get out,
I wish that you could only see!

That I’m not that happy person anymore,
I’ve changed, but for the worst.
In my eyes, I only see closed doors,
And believe me, this isn’t the first.

If you saw me now, you’d hear my music,
See me shed my tears, and wipe my eyes, 
You’ll see the life drained out of me, as if there was a tick.
Oh, you’ll also get to hear me confess to all of my lies.

I try to forget everything and lose myself in the music,
Sing along to get any emotions out, 
That’s pretty much the basics,
What I’m all about. 

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When a few notes can't complete a melody,
her long delicate fingers will rest on the silent piano as Mozart did... 
until inspiration comes from an outside source such as happy warblers;
her vacant and perplexed look pierces serenity
as sun rays cut through clouds to nurture flowers;
isn't her dream to set those words to music to fulfill someone's will?  

Perhaps that poet was her lover who dedicated her verses,
and remembering them she must create from seven notes
something memorable to honor a memory that Mankind forgot,
and his greatness will once again emerge from the black ashes;
then write, beautiful player, the new melody to cure a mourning heart...
let tears flow to release pain, let music vindicate unsought loneliness!

If I had lived in your time, much consolation I would have brought and not
made you look away to increase your undeserved and endless grieving;
and while hearing what you had written with compassion and feeling, 
an embrace I would have offered to ensue understanding and comfort!

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Amalfi Dancer

The road's too narrow
Yet the bus gets by
It seems impossible
Now it's my turn to try

I turn and I brake
At the edge of the cliff
A scooter passes me
As my car starts to drift

I stay on the road
My heart in my throat
All the vehicles dancing
hitting their note

I start to relax
Going with the flow
Feeling the rhythm
knowing where to go

Now I understand
Each part forms the whole
A kind of symphony
Connecting each Soul

Forgetting the rules
I do it their way
Instead of just driving
I dance and play

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Minutes we Spent

Days, weeks, years, many hours included
Minutes we spent above, now saddened, deluded

Moments shared, in private, continual we
Deceived be, looking past I see

From the day we first met
Attraction, absorbed through music shared
Revealing the hurts of our past
Captured, our hearts now care

Days, weeks, in trance 
The unbalance our lives created
Minutes we spent above
Meeting in Glasgow our lives related

To the Island you had to go back
This reality you always said
You knew you were going back home
Knowing our reality was dead

Weeks and months passed by
Always knowing I was by your side
Monetary problems caused a rift
I helped in my wanting stride

Then came the day
The day I travelled to you
You asked so many times
This feeling of feeling true

At Arricife we met
Having told me your with someone else
For the weeks, months, years that passed by
I was discarded, left on a shelf

But on that Thursday, in the apartment we
We released what had happened before
Tears, cuddles
That had captured the Glasgow, thee

Then that call on the Friday morning
Because of the history between
You were barred from interacting
This two who loved so keen

Sound asleep early Monday morning
3.15am, when it again began
Upset, wanting to see me
Desiring two, to become lovingly one

Moments once again were shared
In depth, and loving sighs
Making love for hours and hours
Amidst our saddened cries

We awoke later that day
An agenda of life your to meet
Now cancelled,
Kissing, cuddling, you desire we greet

We spent this Monday in bed
Talking, kissing, about many things
Wishing that we were to be
And what our future would bring

But you had already chosen
On the week that I was due out to fly
For these days, weeks, months I've wasted on you
For your tomorrows, you'll internally cry


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Music Man

Please can you take some time?
I know it won’t be a crime
Just relax kick off your shoes
Maybe listen to some rhythm and blues

If that’s not your taste
Don’t hesitate
Listen to some soul
Or some rock n roll

Just take the time
Air guitar and mime
To your favourite song
What could go wrong?

My I Pod I like
While riding on my bike
Radio in my car
If I’m travelling far

I just find each day 
A time to play
The sounds I can
To listen to the music man

So much music to hear
Play it loud play it clear
Enjoy all that you can
Get right into the music man

Because you know you can
Every woman and man
You know you can
Get lost in the music man

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La Valse Des Monstres

Écoute bien. La musique t'invite,
Les mots fanent et le ciel se remplit d'étoiles,
Il dirige cette explosion de beauté instantanément, vite.
Et descend avec élégance,
Levant ces ailes et ces voiles.
Il te donne une chance.

Depuis des générations j'allume ces bougies,
Et depuis des générations les ombres m'encerclent.
Avec la lumière vient l’obscurité... l’agonie.
Mais maintenant j'embrasse une affinité,
Dans cette cellule maléfique j'ai trouvé un pinacle.
Et je danse passionnément pour l'infinité.

Alors, je t'implore,
Tu m'expulses et ça me fait mal.
Une fois encore,
Coincé dans une chambre de montres,
Je voudrais apprendre cette valse,
Instruis-moi La Valse Des Monstres

Pour que je puisse toujours 
Danser dans la lumière !

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You're going back to Gainesville,
I think is very brave.
They tied our hands and made us
dance their dance.
We were prisoners of a smear
who voluntarily walked the
But now that the she-devil has 
given up the reins, our
exits may not have been in vain.
You, stepping up at home
and me, pretending not to care when
my mom came home bearing
the news
that you said you want me there.

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Tune-In Radio

I recently discovered
What I guess I should have known,
That I can hear the greatest music
Streaming from my phone.

The radio won’t always play
The songs that I enjoy,
So Tune-In Radio’s the app
That I can now employ.

And when I see my grandson,
There’s no radio at all;
But with my phone, I dance around
When Henry starts to bawl.

I often think technology
Makes life a whole lot worse,
But when it’s good, I’m glad enough
To celebrate in verse!

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Dream You Come Back To Me

" Dream You Come Back To Me "

The moons golden glow is bright tonight
softly casting down upon the sea
I sit and think of the precious things
and Dream You Come Back To Me.

Your soft brown eyes speaking love I see
with pretty gardenias pinned in your hair
your warm soul is reaching out for me
so softly bright while I sit and stare.

I look down and see your little footprints
softly imprinted in the moon lit sand
I feel the rhythm of our beating hearts
slowly dancing to our favorite band.

This beautiful music of two people in love
has a meaningful lovers beat
anticipation of everytime
of when our lips come to meet.

I hear the distant music now getting close
our fate is always so clear
I whisper softly sweet words of love
so gently while blowing in your ear.

I remember the times we were slow dancing
just like it was yesterday
once upon a time our love was new
before you left me and went away.

We always walk together hand in hand
so sincerely in love were we
planning our future together as one
with all the sweet things to be.

Planning to spend my lifetime with you
but God had wanted you on that day
left with my memories all of you
is where you will forever stay.

Walking together and living our life
our days were all so complete
left facing a sad day full of sorrows
my dreams all fell in defeat.

I feel the warm wind with its gentle blow
allowing me always to clearly see
sitting and thinking of the memories
and Dream You Come Back To Me...

Penned By MPK

Quote: Life Is Poetry In Motion, Great Poets Reflect Emotion...

Quote: The Best And Most Beautiful Thing In The World Can’t Be Seen Or Touched.
It Must Be Felt With Your Heart...

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Natures Song

Have you ever stopped quietly just to listen?
Nature has an orchestra just waiting to be played.

A branch of a tree rub's against
a tree limb like the sound of the oboe
singing deep from within. 

There are birds, Frogs, and crickets to
add to the song.
And babbling brooks just flowing along.

The leaves under foot make a crunch
as you walk.  It's almost like
Nature is trying to talk.

The Night-in-gale sings her sad song
in the nest, then tucks all her babies
snug under her chest.

And just when you think all is quiet
and still, you hear a faint sound
coming over the hill.

You listen and wonder, what
sound could this be?
Its just the wind blowing and ruffling
the trees.

So next time your walking and
talking out loud.  Be quiet
stop moving and exit the crowd.

Just sit down be patient and quietly
stay, Its Natures sweet music Beginning
to play.

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Shock Therapy

Some claim you played to the gods on that night
Some older folk warned you were devils
I know that you played with immortal might
(My Sony's at Richter-Scale level)

What a monster, primal and primitive sound!
My chair ain't electro-shock proof
Vibrating the floor and shaking the ground
and blowing my brains through the roof

Strutting and sneering, it's bad-boy St. Mick,
mocking and shocking tradition
Keith's chugging cords and earth-quaking licks
bludgeon me into submission

Those Liverpool lads are far too polite
Your music MURDERS my troubles
'Penny Lane'? Uh-uh! You wanna' pick FIGHTS!
and BLAST those bad-blues into rubble...

***'Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out!'...The Rolling Stones Live at Madison Square Garden...November - 1969...Yes, 1969 and to this day no band has been able to match that sound

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Guitarra, Express My Heart

Guitarra, I’m begging,express my heart Pick away all that’s ever ached Place these Spanish notes beautifully To the angel of her face Guitarra pleas, express this heart Bring to life our last Latin nights Dancing that flamenco from her charcoal eyes Reviving fiesta under most romantic moonlight Guitarra as now I gently play Fingers within running throughts through ebony of her hair “El espiritu de amor” is strumming along Bringing back the yesterdays to here Guitarra passion now is in the revival As the ghost of love tangos all around Milagros, I sense you near And in this instrument forever you are found

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Number 21

Holding your hands in mine
Hoping you won't let go
After what I tell you..
Before we begin,
There's something I want you to know.
You're number 21.

I walked to your house that morning.
You sprinted clumsily to the door.
We helped each other cook breakfast
And ate until we could eat no more.
But I've had mornings like this before.
You're number 21.

We walked downtown in the sunlight.
Another perfect-weathered afternoon.
Brought a few friends, caffeinated and different,
But you and I are obviously in tune.
Do not assume too much too soon.
You're number 21.

The evening comes too quickly.
And now we're completely alone.
Talking of things, humorous, sweet, musical.
Our thoughts and feelings in a cyclone.
Trying not to use a romantic tone.
You're number 21.

I've done it before and seen it all.
I don't want you to think you're the first.
So many girls and so many times,
This whole course of action feels rehearsed.
But none have done better at quenching my thirst.
You're number 21.

Perhaps you are more than just a number,
From bland statistic to complex equation.
The substance in your simplicity intrigues me.
My eyes are now open to the realization.
Quite the unexpected sensation.
You're number 21.

There's nothing wrong with the way you're designed.
Compared to the previous, you are the most fun.
Regrets would bring insanity if left unsigned.
Perhaps my search for numbers is done.
You just might be the one.
You're number 21.

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Beatle Mania

How I wish it was Yesterday
When I would dance the night away
To music that was really cool
From the guys from Liverpool
Ringo, Paul, George and John
Who fascinated everyone
From Europe to the U.S.A.
They had a captivating sway
They played a rocking beat
That made me move my feet
From I Wanna Hold Your Hand
To Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
From Hey Jude with Na Na Na Na
To Desmond and Molly Ob La Di Ob La Da
Yes how I wish it was Yesterday
When I would dance the night away

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Two sides of life, within a ring,
merge in a deathly swirl of round,
and someone music plays, they swing,
the faceless wears a crimson gown.

One can’t define who is in power,
where is the dark, where is the light?
The reddish passion is in flower.
One can’t extinguish fire of fight.				

The music sounds, the passion lances.
Who made this festive world of dance?
The lonely will is taking chances.
Where is the end of an ecstatic trance?

Feels malice the musician more an` more,
the dancers’ movements getting loose,
and keys of nights an` days during the course
beat out a rhythm and give the blues.

(translated from Russian)

My page on a Russian site:

There is a war on for your mind:

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The Gift of Music

A wonderful gift
given to the musician
to play a instrument
truly a life mission

To practise your craft
bringing many such pleasure
takes many dedicated hours
with effort and committed endeavour

Whether it be a violin or piano
a clarinet, flute or guitar
indeed a harp or a cello
without it there can’t be a star

The next time you have that chance
to put on your musical ears
remember what brought it about
indeed give a resounding musical cheers


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I have always liked music from a early start
music often plays deep with in my heart
as I think of God and the family and friends he did bring
I just feel  so much Love and my heart starts to sing
I feel   my heart dancing with every beat
when I think of my blessings and how I was made unique
the Lord has given me so many things
and music is just one key
but his Love is the greatest thing ever given to me
so dear Lord as I meditate upon you
there is a  song in my heart making it dance with joy too
the rhythm flows through my being and flows  through my veins
and my heart will sing unto you a Love song
time and time again....

my heart sings and dances with glee
 for I love the Lord and he Loves me.

sing unto the Lord a new  song   for his unfailing love endures forevr Amen. 

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Noxious Noises

I must say that in my four score years I've done it all and seen it all,
But in the autumn of my life, noxious noises drive me up the wall!
I like the soothing sound of most music and birds trilling in the trees,
But, Lord, spare me the wheezing of those bagpipes, if you please!

I like the sound of thunder and the rain falling softly on my roof,
But I could strangle the neighbor for letting his mutt yap and woof!
I can tolerate classical music until the prima donna Madame Zaria,
Begins to belt out her raucous contralto in an intolerable aria!

A most trying nuisance and I suppose one of my biggest gripes,
Are kids with boom boxes and their jalopies with those roaring pipes!
I don't mind the occasional rumbling of a train or the screaming jets,
But when dining I suffer acid reflux hearing inane cell phone vignettes!

I've got a bone to pick with the inventor of the wailing saxaphone!
That and the squeaking of a clarinet are more than I can condone!
I like western musical harmony sung by "The Sons Of The Pioneers."
But spare me those "She Done Me Wrong Songs" - they aggravate my ears!

Why can't folks keep their cats inside so they aren't yowling on my lawn,
And a hex on the dude revving his Harley Davidson waking me at dawn!
I reckon before I blow a gasket or worse yet lose my poise,
I'd better rush out and buy some ear plugs to stifle that noxious noise!

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

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our love

our love has come and gone
just like the freshly played melody of our song
though i cannot lie
i will sigh
to you i will say a final goodbye
our love has faded away
like a breeze on a hot summers day
our love has gone out of fashion
and its time to move on
because our love has come and gone
like the faded memory of our song
and with a sigh
to you i say a final good bye

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History of Philosophy Series :Pythagoras of Samos .

Pythagoras of Samos (580 BC-500BC) :

Born in the Greek island of Samos in the Northen
Agean Sea , -
Off the coast of Asia Minor of modern day 
Turkey ;
It was around late 6th century BC !
He settled in Croton , a Doric Greek colony -
Of southern Italy , in 529 BC .
Lectured mostly in philosophy and mathematics .
Started a secret society called the Order of the 
Pythagorians ; 
They followed rigid ascetic practices and were
strict vegetarians !
Pythagoras is said to have traveled extensively –
visiting foreign lands ;
And in him the traditional knowledge of other
classical civilizations blend ;
Wherein we can also find , a mystical trend !
He is said to have picked up geometry from
the Egyptians ;
Arithmetic from the Phonesians , and astronomy
from the Chadeans !
His mystical trends and religious practices came
from the Orient !
These mystical believes include the belief in the
transmigration of the soul ;
While his pupils carried on his noble traditions !
He had taught verbally , and is quoted by Plato
and Aristotle frequently !
And alluded to by Neoplatonist philosophers of 
later history !

His Musical Theory :-
His number theory was rather unique and exotic ,
His mystical thoughts blending with mathematics !
Even numbers were said to be feminine ,
And odd numbers stronger and masculine !
Since even plus odd always gives odd , 
While two evens could never produce an odd !
But the numbers that impressed him the most ,
Were found by him in the Musical Ratios - 
as we can see ;
As I had mentioned in my poem “Pythagoras and
his Music of the Spheres” already ;
From which I now proceed to quote liberally !
Pythagoras is generally known for his famous
theorem of geometry , 
Had a scientific bent of mind which did blend
with his philosophy !
He is the first Greek philosopher credited to 
have heard , -
Cosmic music of the heavenly bodies in their
diurnal orbit round the sun !
The Book of Job speaks of a time when the stars 
of the morning sang together while afloat !
And in his ‘The Merchant of Venice’ , Act V,
Shakespeare wrote :-
“There is not the smallest orb that thou beholdest
But in their motion like an angle sings ,
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins ,
Such harmony is in the mortal souls ,
But whilst this worldly vesture of decay 
Doth grossly close it in , we cannot hear it !”
(Musical Theory of Pythagoras : to be continued.)


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with delight out of the shadow night a low sweet melody comes drifting a minstrel and singer with a chant soul-stirring a siren of the dark, chirping and twittering soul-searching, fathomless lovely tale beautiful and so frail nightingale Written by Constance La France August 24, 2012 For the contest Night Melody, Trois-par-Huit Sponsored by nette onclaud

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               Verse 1: At first I saw your face and I was sold. A beautiful body with a mind made of gold. Then I saw that your personality was so in tone. And all those childish games would never follow where you rooam. That's when I ran from the crew and I walked up to you and asked you "so what is your name?" You look like a chiefer lets blow on some riffer. It'll keep us from going insane. Let's go have a drink and we'll see what you think about maybe you joining my team. On a whole nother level I hope you can handle a brother whose swagger's so clean. I mean, baby you're fine. Like I'm frozen in time everytime that I look in your eyes. I'm thinking your one of kind. Oh so top of the line. Let's just say your the ultimate prize. There's no other chick that does it so slick or kills when it comes to your grind. Cause even the stars, they're looking at you and hating the way that you shine.

	Chorus: I don't need a hook, do you want one? If it ain't one, don't mean we wont have some fun. Cause we in it. We do it. Everyday so fluent. And you can tag along girl, it ain't nothing to it. We party all night 'till the day in. Sipping on tequila, vodka, maybe even gin. And yea, my life is like a movie, home video. And I'd really like for you to make a cameo.

	Verse 2: You run through my mind like all of the time. And i can't seem to get you out. Like a mistake on a term paper I just white out. And since I got the baddest chick, I just don't see a point to keep an eye out. We come through with swag and pop a few tags while brothers are steadily hating. They're stressing the fact that we are all that and killing the swag we're potraying. The drama come through and it's like blah blah blu. I don't understand what they're sayin'. But "go ma weo" is what I tell them cause we're chinking like the asians. Ride in the Beem and we're sitting on lean. Got grechy for days cause my pockets on ching. No hater nor force can come in between the semi-uphoric and future historic and way metaphoric bond that we have. Because they try to catch up but they continue to lag. It's real sad but...

	Chorus: I don't need a hook, do you want one? If it ain't one, don't mean we wont have some fun. Cause we in it. We do it. Everyday so fluent. And you can tag along girl, it ain't nothing to it. We party all night 'till the day in. Sipping on tequila, vodka, maybe even gin. And yea, my life is like a movie, home video. And I'd really like for you to make a cameo.

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I'm a marching band mom,
I'm very proud of it,
Brass, woodwinds, drummers, and pit.

Counting steps to find their spots,
Keeping time with doctor beat,
Forwards and backwards with their feet.

Learning new sets everyday,
Marking spots with sidewalk chalk,
Helping each other with a talk.

Adding music as they go,
Coordinating timing,
Keep up the playing and marching.

Mastering notes that help playing the tunes,
Mastering body form from head to toe,
Playing and marching makes a lovely show.

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No You Tube film

The singer’s throat is very sore,
In fact, she’s rather hoarse,
And now there’s been a power cut -
No ‘You Tube’ film, of course…

for PD’s contest

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Love Without Words

You took my hand
We both shared smiles
You captured my heart
With your feminine wiles

You ran your fingers
Through my hair
The dance floor was full
But no one was there

Blinded by your beauty
You were all I could see
I was lost in you
You were lost in me 

We kept on dancing
When the music died
The music we heard
Was coming from inside

Love without words
Really does exist
It happened to us
The night we kissed

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Dancing With Rock

Dancing with rock is a free form
No basic two step to turn  up the pace
Creativity is the only norm
Rhythm  flows to keep you in place

Notes and words from around the world
Feet and shoulders do what they can
Rocking out, now spinning to twirl
Freedom to rock has many a fan

The waltz and the tango are good to find
More formal clothes they do require
Freedom to rock is one of a kind
Come as you are, no specific attire

Everyone can rock so we all say
Dancers interpret as they must
Rock's only requirement is music to play
With freedom like this, fears turns to dust 

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Down the River

She sings, down the river that flows Lantern to direct on the bow Going along softly she goes Listens to nature, what it knows Sweet melody as she knows how Her tender heart, surely it glows
Russell Sivey Form Italian Sestet Contest: SENSES FOR A SESTET Sponsor: nette onclaud 10/28/2013

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Christian Music

The world of Christian music is amazing,
Compared to when I was a kid finding my music.
It has evolved into brilliant composing,
Words of hope, life, inspiration, and a new kick.

The songs are not all slow or bland,
I only listened when mom was driving.
But now I listen to many a Christian band.
The artists are young and the business is thriving.

I love to here songs that move my soul,
Newsboys, Jars of Clay, Mercy Me,
To name a few I have seen at a show.
Each of them making my inhibitions run free.

Casting Crowns, Sanctus Real, and Skillet,
All get me up and moving.
As the song is played I sing it and feel it,
Much more than during my childhood schooling.

Try it out see if you like it,
Air 1 is the station in my car.
You can also find it on the Internet,
Just type in the address bar.

Hesitant to give Christian music a try,
I don’t blame you it once was very dry.
I still listen to some Skynard and songs of the west,
But as for me and my house Christian music is the best.

For "Soul Tunes" contest.

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Pitch Black Notes

Well, I've been thinking;
Are songwriters awake,
Writing and rewriting,
Going through several takes?
What days do they write?
Perhaps, at midnight,
Before the sun shines bright;
After they find plight.

©2014 Honestly JT

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Canned Christmas Music

The music at Wal Mart drives me insane
Even employees, are known to complain
It seems very wrong
To play Christmas songs
At Halloween time!  Now, who is to blame?

They take "Silent Night", and they turn it to noise
They run over Granny with a sleigh filled with toys
The beautiful sound
Of the season is ground
Into our brain, until good will is destroyed!

Why can't they save carols only for Christmas?
Do they think sooner will drum up their business?
I wonder what goons 
Thought beloved bunny tunes
Should welcome our Easter, before Valentine kisses?

The whole world is rushing the holiday seasons
We seem to forget the meaning or reasons
We celebrate one before another is done
Please Mr. Wal music to please us!

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Let the stream of cash in, flood-gate
Like the Casino, I'll keep chips in your plate
Big-ballin', throw it in the pot, high stakes
Don't sleep, keep watch for fakes and snakes
So much dead pres' to burn, it's a crime
Surprised I ain't in the Feds, doing hard time

Making all this cash, you could say I invented it

Moving fast, speeding, put up a road-block, no preventin' it

I'm on a roll, pull out the spikes, can't flatten my tire

Gettin' this money on the low, but it takes me higher

Selling Mary J, Molly, and that white girl, no prostitution

Moving X and D, in the middle of finding a solution

I ain't doing algebra, money plus problems equals murder

Money talks, and all I hear from you is a murmur?

You poor, but I ain't talking 'bout serving drinks

I'm Balling, my chain's like a fence, got a lot of links

Back then, they locked me out, cash was the key to the door

I started from the bottom, got it from the floor

Dirty money, let it accumulate, sweep it with a broom

Wipe-out the marks with a mop, keep a clean room

Money keeps me ahead of the game, avoid defeat

I'm on the road to success, it's a one-way street

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Songs will never truly live without a melody

Words are just poetry on a page 

Music releases the song from its cage

Lyrics are a message but nothing without a tune

The rhythm is the soul that makes our heart swoon

Sentences flow to form the perfect rhyme

Without the beat it cannot make our ears chime

Paragraphs are scribed until the end of eternity

But songs will never truly live without a melody

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The trio* from the Opera Land*
has sung with Barbara Streisand,
they'll enchant you with their voices
as they throw kisses like roses;
applaud them...they are grand!

*The Trio: The Three Tenors
* The Opera Land: Italy

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The Song Sparrow
and the Yellow Warbler
were best friends unlikely the others; 
one was older, the other younger
and both awaited tomorrow...
hoping it would bring lots of sun rays!

Learning from each other
was a true challenge,
they had a different voice range:
one high, one low;
and they tried to work it out...
listening as notes entered the festive air
from a branch of a willow,
but kids wouldn't admit they were smart! 

After two long months of practice,
they have announced their release;    
I guess birds are similar to us 
and sing with their true hearts!
Don't they deserve a great price
for having a hit on the charts?

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Rainbows of Musical Fantasy

Shaken from my restful dreams, the earth's plates were violently shifting. Foundation cracked, falling below our realm, I felt my weightless spirit lifting. Tranquil dreams returned in euphony, I fell fast and slow without fear or pain. Others all around were dropping in a mist softer than cool, morning rain. In a flash, all I knew on earth was gone. My journey ended beyond the Archway of Dawn. Welcomed home by the familiar, I knew my spirit on delicate wings belonged. Rejoicing evermore, I found my inner love song. In a fantasy world of mystic creatures, I became the musical fairy, Vilenist. Armed with violin and soothing melodies, I tame beasts and calm all under duress. My bow and strings twinkle in motion brighter than our shooting starlight, and with sounds of music, I can hypnotize dragons from our darkest nights. I am happily known by all as the rainbow fairy. Every note becomes a color displayed in our enlightened land, I am called to tarry. Where shimmering leaves dance on trees under everlasting golden skies, and laughter from frolicking friends drowns out all sorrowful cries. Serenity is my sister of the soothing shade. She rests in shadow from twin moons and a sun carved from diamonds that never fade. I live eternally shining just like our diamond sun. Illuminating the fantasy world with Serenity's respite, my joy, openly expressed, lives in a song for everyone. By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, May 25, 2012 for Welcome to the World of Fantasy contest (Tracie) *character, Vilenist

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That Was Rock And Roll

Bill Haley gave us 'Rock Around The Clock'
showed us music in a different way,
Chuck Berry sang 'Johnny B. Goode'
and Buddy Holly said 'That'll Be The Day'.

Elvis went to 'Heartbreak Hotel'
and came back as the king of pop,
Jerry Lee sent us 'Great Balls Of Fire'
while Danny and his group were 'At The Hop'.

The Everly's were saying 'Bye Bye Love'
Bobby Darin was out 'Beyond The Sea',
Little Richard was with 'Long Tall Sally'
and Lloyd Price thought he was 'Stagger Lee'.

Paul Anka introduced us to 'Diana'
Del Shannon told us of his 'Runaway',
Big Bopper talked about 'Chantilly lace'
and the Rolling Stones said love 'Not Fade Away'.

Eddie Cochran took 'Three Steps To Heaven'
Don McLain made 'American Pies',
Roy Orbison was still lost 'In Dreams'
as the Platters sang 'Smoke Gets In Your Eyes'.

When the music began to change
jazz, blues and rock and roll,
got more electronic and louder
became rock, heavy metal and soul.

There are a lot more I could name
but I guess I'll just call them the rest,
It's a long time ago but I'll never forget
Rock and Roll for me was the best.

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Years ago, this saloon was too boring
and all you saw was cowboys drinking;
no music to take away their blues,
no wonder they all seemed to lose!

I got this low-paying job in Nashville,Tennessee,
a close friend read an ad and referred it to me;
even though Country music is popular and loved:
earning bread and butter in any club was very hard.

With all the bustle on any  busy Nashville's street,
it can never have the fast-paced New York beat,
and making a living as a piano player got me almost nowhere...
folks listened and noticed that the Southern spirit wasn't there!

Today I'll be packing, hop on the bus and head up North feeling kind of sad; 
it was so nice to have met good folks who smiled, listened and applauded
and living just  a few years there, I've learned the friendly hospitality of Rotgut,
but for the sake of my sanity, I must leave this place and not become a nut.                

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Barefoot Singer

I love you so much, and then some. I always want to hear you sing “Different Drum”. It’s been a long time since I heard your “Long, Long, Time”. Your voice as it sings sounds so sublime. For a while, you were known as “the First Lady of Rock and Roll”. Your unique sound is what many of your fans extol. To hear you sing is still considered a treat. How did you perform so well in bare feet? Your audiences still emit loud, thunderous cheers. You still sound great after all these years.

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Whenever middle-age recalls youth
with its long, exciting and carefree days:
we remember that we lived them in our own ways;
our parents argued that it wasn't astute...
have they forgotten how they shamelessly lied
to get some romantic kiss before it actually died?

Before the invention of television most folks were moody...
there were only radios and vinyl records to listen to,
so the dreamy heart would sing and not be blue;
amazingly today, everything is digital due to high technology.

Even grandmother admitted of kissing her sweetheart over
a few Strega Liqueur drinks before falling face-down on the lawn;
she didn't get caught and that secret has remained with her
until now and blushing she tries to smile, remembering  that frown.

Whenever middle-age recalls youth as being innocent and free of all woes... 
it may surprise you how it went hand in hand with progress;
in the sixties, Rock & Roll was considered evil and scandalous, 
but our frantic moms adored Elvis for his attire and gentleman's manners.

* Strega is an Italian Herbal Liqueur
Translation: The Witch's Liqueur

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I want to be a Key West Icon

sitting here in a life i created
and I try not to get to sedated
cause I don't want to miss the call
some day I will sing on duval

and from my boat I sing my ballad
dog done it I just stepped in the salad
oh I wish I could sing in a bar
got a fish shaped like a star

if just money I had in hand
wouldn't have to spend dollars of sand
so here I sit on my pooper
giving birth to the goliath gooper

wishing there was a heart I could warm
if only I could preform
how proud I'd make my mother
if I could only be on the cover

not like the time I went to prison
I wanna see my face in the key west citizen

by Captain Mike Harris

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The Peppermint Rainbow

“The New York Times” was this group’s original name. Within two years, they were garnering fame. Two women and three men sang in wonderful harmony in clubs around Baltimore and Washington, DC. Mama Cass Elliott was noted for their discovery. She often joined them in a Mamas and Papas medley. As their popularity continued to grow, this group changed its name to “The Peppermint Rainbow”. They were signed to the record label known as “Decca”. Their first and only album was produced by Paul Leka. The group’s one big hit was penned by Al Kasha. The title to this 1968 hit was “Will You Be Staying After Sunday”. This song went high up the charts in its day. Although this gang is no longer around, we can still hear their sunshine pop sound. Thanks to online encyclopedia and all for information I obtained to write this poem.

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How sweet the Moonlight sleeps upon this bank

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!

   ....delightful she is with beauty

   in her soft (sensual) music, 

   and whispered I in her lilac-garland ear;

With silver-notes upon her feminine spheres,

   longing with lips endowed with love,

   in the cool of blue moon,

   rolling in the bosom of her cosmos;

An immortality in her eyes ----

   an infinitely brief whisk of sugared tress 

   dangling with pecks and smiles,

   " See my dear, "  said I ----

   " heaven has descended upon me "

And the nectar of its finest garden,

   thy cherubin-scent plucked by Aphrodite ----

   (no Aries) .... but a servant compared to thee,

   for none but I upon thy mind, 

And the mysteries of thy smile assure divine providence;

   my very marrow in thy heart,

   not dare I so deserving ----

   for death could lay me down to a long,

   forgotten sleep,

My dreams would still breathe thy ginger wind,

   from lungs delicious thou Goddess springs;

   my little midnight lover, 

   with the wind in her hair....

   thy breath quicker now, with pearl eyes....

And flushed thy moonlight skin,

   gleaming my little darkling rose,

   overwhelmed with love....

Then sleeping sweet upon the moonlit bank,

   how sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this night!

**For the SHAKESPEARE contest***

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Beatle Mania

  It seemed like only yesterday
That the Beatles came on the scene
And the music that they played
Excited all the teens

 They appeared on the Ed Sullivan show
 To a TV audience that was all aglow
As they sang" I want to hold your hand"
One of the greatest hits of the band

They broke up in 1970
And rumors as to why were plenty
But there can be no doubt
That they made us twist and shout

 10 - 16 - 2013

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Unheard Melodies

I like Crowd and like it in abundance
But not the one you like
Your Crowd has noise and noises only 
Without any beauty & Music of its own.

Your Crowd is a gathering without  elegance and  Beauty, 
It's a bunch of bodies without rhythm, music, thrill  of life and Love,
It's a group of sad or shouting faces without the glimmer of peace & love,  
It hardly has any smile, which can fill us with the hope of life and Love.

The mind and heart of your Crowd is neither calm, quite,  nor unpolluted
If you want to feel and enjoy the silent Music and eternal beauty of a Crowd
Go to a Lake or a river or a mountain brook
Or go near a serene water stream, on a mountain top.

Here you will find in abundance 
The free children of Mother Nature
Dancing with the joy of eternal beauty and love 
And singing their songs with each gush of  winds. 

They  will greet you  amid  the blowing wind
As if, they thrills-up by just beholding others
And raise their heads with love and eternal joy
While  singing the song of unheard melodies.

Each gush of wind touch them to bloom  
The showering rays of Sun, move them to smile 
In the company of their dancing friends
By seeing them only you will bloom like a lotus
Amid the Crowd of singing and dancing flowers.
Ravindra K Kapoor
Written sometimes back originally in Hindi language
Kanpur 16th November 2009

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Romancing The Night

" Romancing The Night "

Its time for the party
the evening is here
great music and dancing
good food and some cheer.

I cannot wait to see him
our fun giddy host
he is always so happy
we love him the most.

The dance floor is glowing
a soft pure white
the atmosphere is perfect
he’s done it just right.

The music begins playing
Its sounding so fine
come into my arms dear
this first dance is mine.

Her dress is so pretty
with sequins pearl white
I’ll dance with my lady
all throughout the night.

She says I am handsome
in my tux looking grand
it makes me feel happy
to be her proud man.

The worlds most beautiful woman
she is standing right here
her graceful charm glowing
casting rays on those near.

The moons softly shining
Romancing The Night
being with my lady
is the most beautiful sight…

Penned By MPK

Quote: Life Is Poetry In Motion, Great Poets Reflect Emotion.

Quote: The Best And Most Beautiful Thing In The World Can’t Be Seen Or Touched.
It Must Be Felt With Your Heart...

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I'm Tabula Rasa Flux

I'm me, in me, I'm Tabula, in mental corrode Desiring to be nurtured, to see my future road I'm me, in me, I'm fragments of where I should be My names Tabula Rasa Flux, and I should flow so free I've touched the stone, now I await through the night Knowing I was in their shadows end, to meet their right I'm the spirit of the age, under contract, I'm in solace grow You will find me under life's clouds, where thunder and crickets show I'm me, in the oceans of time, where many of me do flow <*> ( Thank you 'Touchstone - Oceans Of Time' track titles )

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Peter, Paul and -

She waves from the window of her plane
My sweet songbird takes her last flight
She will not come back to me again
My nightingale flies to the Light

Song: 'Leaving on a Jet Plane'
Dedicated to the late Mary Travers

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Do not be afraid, Dear Girl, my room’s right down the hall
At the back of the house where it’s quiet; a very pleasant room overall
You may if you prefer freshen up after our prolonged amble
And I want to examine the paw you twisted falling into that thorny bramble
I’m so sorry you hurt yourself as we made our way through the forest
You’re light as a feather to carry, there’s no reason to fuss or protest.
Here we are! All is ready, even a small repast if you wish
Wine-caressed baby artichokes, tender filet, and foie gras upon your dish
A rich espresso, a Portuguese ruby port or French champagne that is bliss
After we’ve dined we can play: I’m overcome you’re here I’m happy to say
Waiting for you to mature to be my accomplished and eager peer
Left I with no impatience or regrets let me make that clear
Playing with other ladies (often absolutely boring drills)
Helped perfect my performance; I do so want to dazzle you with my skill
Let me set you into a position where I can see and hear you the most
I’ve arranged the room perfectly to suit us I’m not embarrassed to boast
I’ll start slow, the prelude is gentle and brief; I’ll be keyed up waiting for you!
Place your lips upon your flute, my violin under my chin as we usually do
The music stands are a comfortable height; the sheet music will be easy to view
As we play together the exotic Raccatta Sonata I wrote especially for two
We will make music as no other have me and you!

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Soft Pit A Patter

The spring rain
Stirs my senses_my gain
Soft pit-a-patter music_wind chimes

Brings to my mind poems, lines, and rhymes
Saturated these times
By scents_sounds

The soft tender fig leaves release their scent in rounds
Air clean wisteria wafts as birds sings__heart bounds

(Trois Par Huit but not on the list..Will enter under rhyme.)

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Zippedy Do Dah

 <                                      Zippedy  Do  Dah  

                                         Zippedy     Day  

                                       Open    Hearts    Souls

                                       Sing    Loud     Today

                                           Zippedy   Do   Dah  

                                           Zippedy          Day  

                                    Thank    You    Sweet     Lord

                                     Bountys    Come   My    Way

                                           Zippedy  Do  Dah   

                                           Zippedy        Day   

                                          Smell   Frangrence

                                   From    Flowers    Picked   Today

                                           Zippedy  Do   Dah   

                                           Zippedy      Day   

                                        Hugs      And      Kisses

                                To     Children    Comes   My   Way

                                           Zippedy   Do   Dah   

                                           Zippedy          Day   

                                           Join    With    Me

                                          Sunshine's    Hooray   

                                           Zippedy  Do   Dah   

                                           Zippedy         Day   

                                          Keep    This   Tune 

                                          Going     All       Day

                                          Zippedy   Do    Dah   

                                          Zippedy           Day   

                                  Not    Sure    Rythem    Rhyme

                                 Will   March    Same    Way ...   Hey  !

                                          Zippedy   Do    Dah   

                                          Zippedy          Day   

                                                 Been    Fun  

                                            Must   Be   On    Way

                                             Zippedy   Do  Dah   

                                             Zippedy         Day   

                                  Thanks  Dane  Ann  Smith  Johnson

                                 For  Contest   To   Join   And   ...   Play

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My Family and Me

It's amazing how quick things can change.
First your running with the kings, and then you're knocked out of range.
It's strange. I used to worry and stress over friends.
Now I've grown to be a man. Maybe know a few of them.
All that time I could of studied. Did better in school.
Got a job and made it big. Maybe now I'd be cool.
Who's the fool? Now who's the bull? I know that's not me on the top.
Life is always making turns weather you like it or not.
The past will always be the past. My glory days may seem gone.
But, now its time to start a new.The stories keep coming on.
I've got a new girl. She means the world to me.
She keeps me warm at night, my best friend, my new dream.
Since my car accident, still got a limp on one side.
Still working with my memory, still need a friend who can drive.
I love to Karaoke. I get noticed in bars.
My mom's always there to catch me. Tom's working with my mom's cars.
My sister's in the Army, my niece is a big part of my life,
Friend Zach keeps assholes off me, and God is my wife.
AJ's always there to help, Brian is my LOST bud,
Mary's out of school, Lil cousin, Hunter's a stud.
Grandpa still is my idol, JT is still the music man .
The Adam's still can party. Chris, living good on the sand.
I may only use one hand, but I plan to be the best.
At all I do in life, cause there's not that much time left.
The blood test that I took says Landon is mine.
I hope this all works out fine in time and help to make my son's life shine.
JC who's down in Georiga, my heart is screaming for you.
I hope that you recover well. It can't be worse then what I went through.
Uncle Jimmy where you at? Where's Matt, Corie, and Pete?
I know you all are doing good. Serviolo's are a hard team to beat.
How's the rest of the family? I love and miss you all!
I hope you all are standing tall and I pray we never fall.
These last words that I say, I say only to you.
We've got the best family in the world and you know I LOVE YOU!

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I'm Not So Young Anymore
That I like to Prance
But One Thing I Know for Sure
I Still like the Dance

I've Slowed down a Lot
But I'm Steady and I'm Sure
As Long as I Hear Music
My Body Will Endure

Music Is the Soul of Life
It's Different to Each Ear
To One it Makes the Heart Sing
To Another, Bring a Tear

We Dance to Different Melodies
But We Always like a Song
That Creates a Memory
Or Makes Us Feel Strong

So Listen for the Music
If Only in Your Heart
It Makes Life Worth Living
Don't Let You and Music Part

Connie Moore
August 10, 1992

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An epiphany for me

It’s interesting to see
passengers in drove --
a multiplicity of cultures;
thronged towards the ferry.

  New Yorkers or Staten Islanders
  all in a hurry to get home;
  seemingly tired and exhausted,
  unwilling to talk and be in dialogue.

Well, that’s how I picture these people.
while also waiting for the ferry boat,
I could sense everyone’s inclination;
just sitting there and talk no more.
the wind gets through the inner room
cool and chilly though well bundled.

  Others would create certain actions
  to attract some of those with children;
  giving them attention as what they need
  could generate an answer to be entertained.

Oh, like a theatrical performance for them
those actors, musicans, and bible preachers
showing their craft in distinctive ways
makes everyone wonder and truly entertained.

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The two guys played

The two guys played

Franky bear told, Tony mare
‘Tonight I’m letting down my hair
I’ll play some songs on my old Lute
Oh, Tony it will be a hoot
We’ll have the guys around the place
All dressed in leather and in lace
To dance the tango to my song
We’re going to be a happy throng.

Harry Hare said ‘Whoopy doo
I’ll sing and dance the whole night through
And I will play upon my spoons
Oh yes we’ll play a merry tune’
As guys rolled up to witness this
The two they showed them how it is
So they all danced, and moved, and swayed
And had a ball as the twosome played.

When it was over, all did say
Oh boy, it’s been a happy day
Then they went home all smiling bright
Their faces filled with sweet delight
They arranged a dance for another day
And asked the twosome if they’d play
The two said ‘yes it will be done’
As they both waved to everyone.

20 April 2014 @

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One Eyed Purple Rage

Normal, just an ordinary man
But when anger hit him think again
He turned into this vicious pain
Turning purple with anger__boggieman 

His eyes would come together
Until they became one
Right above a horn would sprout
He'd scream, shout become undone

Then it would be over, changed
He would normal, an ordinary man
Back and forth between the one-eyed
One-horned purple with rage

To joyous man who played
But he was one wild son of a gun
When turning again into
The "One-eyed One-Horned Purple-People Eater"

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Johnny Mercer

It was a different day, a different time.
A time of minstrel, vaudeville, and ragtime,
Long summers, Spanish moss hanging from live oaks,
Stories and Geechee hymns from the old black folks.
A young white boy who loved Bessie Smith and Louie Armstrong
During the birth of blues and jazz songs,
The birth of record players and movies with sound,
A radio that all would gather round
To listen to—the birth of popular music.
Through all of this and more,
The great depression and two world wars
His lyrics swayed in movies and filled the airwaves,
And danced on the stages of Broadway.
Savannah’s pride wrote the verses,
The magic talent of Johnny Mercer.
For Michael Falotico’s Songwriter Contest
Johnny Mercer’s songs have been and continue to be covered by the greatest voices of the twentieth century and beyond, and are timeless. No one has more Academy Awards for Best Original Song. Ironically, his song “PS I Love You” prevented the Beatles from placing their song of the same name, on the A side of their 45.

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It brings back memories that we have long forgot,
 a simple tune that means a lot.
Sometimes it's an old flame that comes to mind,
 one that we left behind.
Or maybe a club or a dance we had,
 perhaps it was in high school or just a fad.
But whatever the reason I am sure you must agree,
 music always is the key.
So if you want to re-live those days ,
just turn up the volume and dream away.


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Still My Mind

With my brush in hand I stroked
a line across my screen...
The letters were colored with bright
emotions that sit so serene...
And now today there are musical sounds
that ride up and down my words in tune...
Its the construction of a painting with poetic
lines and song to follow soon...
A paper canvas is a playground to create and unwind...
Whether on the ivory keys or across the strings
my favorite instument is still my mind...

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The Song

When does a poem become a song?
Does the music make it real?
A melody makes us sing along
But the words are from the quill

Without the words the music's blind
It can't see where to go
For the words are how a song's defined
And the music's just for show

Wrapped in notes and chords to tease
It's meant to entertain
But it always takes the words to please
Or the music's played in vain

The words are there to touch the heart
Or the music might be missed
For it only plays a minute part
If the words did not exist

Some has said that poetry's dead
But they couldn't be more wrong
For the poet sees the music's fed
Or there couldn't be a song

Note: This will be my last poem I post for a's time to move on to other things.....Whisk

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The Mellow Mood of Christmas - Christmas Joy Contest

Soft music and thoughts of you

Thrill me through and through.

I relive childhood dreams filled

With laughter and candy canes

An orange, a few nuts and one apple

Just simple little things...

There's not much money this year,

Mama said tucking us all in bed...

Her smile was warm like a gentle

Kiss and we didn't miss

The flashy red wagon or the crying doll

We thought we had it all...

And we did,

Oh yes we did,

It was Christmas in a house filled

With love and music and those peppermint

Candy canes, home made cookies,

and made up games...and

So much love!

12-23-2009 (written)
11:43-11:47 p.m.

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Street Soul

He drives the beat with a burning heat,
The rhythmic fire of the street.
It synthesizes, energizes, maximizes
Life's every situation, with harmonic fluctuation.
The sound that abounds and resounds from somewhere deep.
He's found the soul of it, out on the street.

Every ounce of energy flows with simplistic synergy.
Passion and desire light his instrumental fire.
Chaos brings a cadence, laden with impatience.
Soft placid rhythms, well they just aren't in him. 
But those frantic pounding beats, coming from the street,
Are a bold presentation of his soul's imagination.

TLH  © 05-24-2012
Entered into: Be Yourself Contest

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Another Sweet Rap

All the time, I go
just right below, your window.
I Bust a rhyme, I flow.
In hopes you'll see and you'll know.
Of how we should roll and stroll together.
Watch love glow and grow.
I'd show and bring you joy. Build your dreams
with just one hand.
Prove to you I'm not a boy. Show you, next I'm the man.
And, that I can do whatever it is you want me
to do.
Please understand, in any weather, My love will always be true!
Goes through and hits with no surprise. I realize your the one.
Your like an angel in disguise, just by your
eyes, I have fun.
You hypnotize. You mesmerize. Your looks and
size gives me chills.
I'd bust in hives. I'd probably die, just to
steal a small thrill.

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If I hold on to strings,
That tend to slip away,
Does that mean I love things,
That I know will never stay?
If I hang on to a love, 
that just holds me down,
Does that mean that my wings,
Won’t get me off the ground?
If I hold on to lies,
That I only half believe,
When I look in your eyes,
Will you look back at me?

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Life is a dance

Life, with your flow, I dance And with your course, I sway Sometimes with smiles which help me prance Sometimes with tears, painfully red or grey Life, beautiful for the lucky ones They are the enjoyers, the swans For me, with faith blooming And with my youth blossoming I pine, and yearn, like the Holy Queen For the love of my years as a teen Where are you prince charming? For your warm heart I am searching! Life is a dance, whether a tango or a ballet I live it with the zeal of an anklet When I swirl and fly over mountains In my mind, I am rid of all pains My own life, filled with my own strife Fate shall you be kind to me in my afterlife If I perform my moves with grace And give the world a much needed solace?
Placed 6th in the contest

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ThE sOuNd Of MuSiC

It's what I like about the sound of music
Especially like that of a funky drum beat
If boarder line or profound, it's therapeutic
The rhythm has you tapping your feet

So long though as it's one that soothes,
It could then be anything, like a little pop!
A song with some funky style grooves
Perhaps one with a little bit of trip hop

Ill take stock to any a track you choose
As long though as it dose give an uplift
Even rock or soul, though not the( blues!
One of those with a funky style guitar riff

To be on a higher level, reggae or techno!
Something that has catchy style melodies
Then I'll up the treble, heighten the tempo!
When looking for those sweet harmony’s

Origianl written (2004) original idea back in 2002
though thought rewrite put more emphasis
and put in better context this time round
as before did not quite know where to go with thi write
trying to stick to pattern prettymuch the same or though some words switched
around and some replaced just felt this version explains better
this was also originaly called sounds of happiness back in 2002/2003

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Wordless Again

Here I am wordless again
with pages left unwritten 
still void of the stories end
straining for a sound no ear can listen

It's not that I have no choice
for every chapter has a dawn
an optimist, I find my voice
yet my tongue gets lost in the writers wrong

A line out of place
a paragraph unfitting
when the substance of words
still come up missing

Tide of life you rise like a mighty sea
crashing your waves in a rhythm 
nearly crushing me
but for my pen, a stories musician 

Rewriting the lyrics time and again
yet the melody is constant
as stars which have fallen
yet the sky is not condemned

For heaven still is heaven
and Saturn is not gone though it loses it's ring
be it peculiar without question
becomes a storehouse if only remembered things

Lose what we lose and give what we may give
we are still the same.
The picture changes over time,
yet our melody is etched in the frame.

And yet the words stay locked behind
the door of patience ordered by time
A story held a wordless wonder
I hold only my key sung in rhyme

Let me not be reckless of my words and my worlds
for the sake of a stories end that ought
be not just a song but a symphonic pearl
a heaven that can never be lost

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The feeling enveloped me,
resulting in the answer,
what is the missing link
that has caused this month's drama?

I haven't danced, I realized,
That is the puzzle piece. 
That has been missing, kidnapped,
Creating my missed sleep. 

I need to purge the energy
Stirring in my system. 
Only music and singing
will return me to my rhythm.

Airing out the negative
thoughts that block my smile,
Returning me to solitude 
Where I find my old style. 

Reminding me of what's important,
the passion which feeds my soul.
Without this electricity to charge 
my brain I'm just half whole. 

I'm human, I'm alive, I'm full of life. 
I inhale only love, I need to rid all strife. 
On days when I feel stiff and rigid,
I need to move to music not feel frigid. 

So allow me to be myself and 
set my body free,
Forgive me for all my mistakes
Let me get return to the best MC. 

With no words just movement,
meaning body explanation, 
Discovering your inner child
without getting a citation. 

Swallow all my pride,
Brush off all the worry,
Battle through the fire,
Forget if things get blurry.

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The trio from the Opera Land
has sung with Barbara Streisand,
they'll enchant you with their voices
they throw kisses like roses....
applaud them..they are grand.

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This is how i live

I dip my pen in plasma
Write my rhymes in blood
Immortal soldier stopping emotions with a mental plug
I put my game-face on and hit the battlefield
Turning insults to motivation make my writings feel
Never hypocritical
I never change like reciprocals
Steady swimming forward, like a shark because its critical
No rest, only the strong survive
Mental toughness keeps me focused and keeps my eyes dry

This is how i live
This is what i feel
Thoughts of a warrior bred with a heart of steel
Decorate my chest with a metal for fierceness
Bible says I'm blessed I'll live on guiltless
My heart is cold
Frozen from hurtful words
And attempts of spiritual homicide always in my face
I shrug them off and stay moving at a steady pace

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God's Symphony In The Sky

Wispy, delicate tendrils of pink and purple shades
Float in orchestrated transformation across God's morning stage
A new day is awakening as the sun arouses from its sleep
Leaving behind the night slumbering in His Universe so deep
Waiting for another eve to share its golden moon
To play a magical interlude in God's dramatic melodious tune 

All creation is majestically playing His music in the clouds
Each concert welcomes all people and any size of crowds 
Free tickets are given to everyone who wishes to attend
No reservations will be needed, as God's concert never ends
Come as you are, no fancy dress code is required 
Just come and watch whenever your heart desires 
Everyone is cherished, there is no minimum or maximum of age 
All are heartfully welcomed and desired before His magnificent stage

There will never be a lack of tickets or any sold out shows
They will be conducted by God, the Maestro of a beautiful adagio
Magnificent performances run continuously day by day
Please come and celebrate this dawning or evening as you may
If you miss this matinee please come back for another of His splendids
Another performance will begin as soon as one has ended

There are fresh new beginnings each and every day
We extend His loving invitation to all who wish to stay 
Please come and join us, perform if you desire
No experience or resumes will ever be required
All that is needed to view…
Is your loving heart and You

                                             Love To All,
                                             God and His Angels

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End of the Innocence

*  Inspired in part by Don Henley's song "End of the Innocence"

End of the Innocence

Though many thought the lyrics by Don Henley
Spoke of a woman’s loss of virginity
The former Eagle claimed nature to be
His inspiration for this elegy

At the time the Grammy winner was released
Henley and other celebs had beseeched
Walden Pond be preserved, development ceased
Construction crews bowed out, made their retreat

Although Henry Thoreau’s favorite spot was saved
The End of the Innocence now rolls on waves
Laden with black grime from disrupted graves
Of extinct species, seeking to convey

A message to man now tainting the sea
Perhaps it’s a warning as some will perceive
But punishment’s due, our Judge may decree
“Justifiable homicide” for man’s greed

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Precious and Few

Do you remember back in 1972 when “Climax” recorded the song “Precious and Few”? Those lyrics describe exactly how I feel during each moment with you that is real. Since then, it has been a couple of generations. However, the song still gives me sensations. After all these years, I am still willing and able. I will get out that vinyl record and put it on my turntable. It puts me in a mood for romance. Please join me in another slow dance.

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Musical Fingers - compound word verse

Both hands simultaneously
Depressing white key and black key
Arpeggios plucked string by string
Or six strings together strumming
"Pulling-off" or "hammering-on"
Up the neck for chord inversions

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Praise God

If it's not one thing then it's another.
I'm either fighting with my dad or hearing screams from my mother.
My girlfriend doesn't trust me. I can't pay for therapy.
I can't do this all alone. I get down on my knees.
I ask the lord for forgiveness, right before I begin.
Although he is a forgiving God, how could he look upon sin?
Prayer is so simple even a child can start.
It's not all imagination, your faith must come from the heart.
It's all so real, the thrill you feel, the chill that's going through you.
You no longer fear it, the holy spirit starts showing and glowing, it's true.
Who knew that you, that tough guy? The one that wouldn't believe?
Then why are you always calling out for him when your unable to achieve?
He's always there to help us. Stand out and give it a try.
The Closer you get to God you'll see this isn't a lie.
Thank you, Jesus! Praise Jesus! Halliugha! Oh Lord!
I can never lose a battle using you as a sword!
Life here is too short, yesterday is already gone.
Knowing where you'll spend eternity will help keep you moving on.
Praise God!

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The Gypsy Dance Of Life

Last night I watched in silence
At the end of the road in forest deep
I hid amongst the trees watching in awe
As gypsies dance while others sleep
Under the violet hue of evening sky
Haloed by evening's golden moon
I watched gypsies dance and sing
As flames from bonfires leaped high in the air
Dark haired women in shawls and beads
Happily dancing and twirling without care
Casting their spells of magic and enchantment
Performing their honeyed seductions
Blended with aphrodisiacs of scent and sound

Gypsy men with kerchiefs around their necks
Hoops of silver adorning their ears, singing joyful songs
Children laughing, dogs barking
As if they’re singing right along
Oh, I so wanted to join them as I stood watching in awe
Envious was I of their freedom and joy

Caravans painted in bright images and colors
Tambourines jingling as velvet shadows danced in the night
Skirts swirling, gold and silver bangles on their arms
Dancing 'round the bonfire's fiery light
Accordions singing, with happy notes from a fiddler's bow
As they sang and danced barefoot under evening moon

In the coming dawn once again...
It will be time for them to pack and move on
With a last meal served...
The caravans are readied to make another journey long

"Gather yourself up gypsy girls
Wonderful as it may seem…
A gypsies’ life is never their own
Time to move on
Time to find another home
You must have gypsy blood
In order to survive"

As their wagons move along dusty trails
They'll be looking for a place to camp
A place to call home... at least for awhile
A place to hang their colored paper lamps
Suddenly- a cry rings out

"Stop the wagons, ring the bells
We've found the perfect place
The perfect place for magic spells
Tomorrow brings a brand new day!
Let's feast, dance and make merry
Come on let's get things underway"

And so...
The journey goes on
And never ends! 

"Gather yourself up gypsy girls
Wonderful as it may seem…
A gypsies’ life is never their own
Time to move on, time to leave
Time to find another home
You must have gypsy blood
In order to survive"

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Busking in the mall

Busking in the mall

I recall those days of long ago
When I was young and so aglow
With music bursting in my soul
It made me feel so good and whole
With old guitar slung round my neck
I couldn’t play well but what the heck
I loved to play that folk and blues
It’s all I’d ever want to do

I’d stand there busking in shop doorways
As to the music I would sway
Old blues harp around my neck
I weren’t no good, but what the heck
Other guys would come around
And though it weren’t no magic sound
They’d realize I played my best
They’d love me for my happiness

I’d give one my guitar to play
And as this bloke would bang away
I’d play my blues harp loud and clear
And sing, and then we’d share a beer
That’s when the folk all came around
Cause beer it did enhance our sound
They’d give us dosh then we would go
And drink some beer, until we’d glow.

This it was so long ago
But the memories just make me glow
Those day they come on back to me
I see it now I’d feel so free
Entertaining I loved this
And even now it gives me bliss
To think of those days long ago
Though I was not real good, I know

31 July 2014 @ 1445hrs.

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no more do I note the time which flies
I only wait for you, my love, my light

will it be you or will it be time
that frees me from this cursed rhyme

my soul cries out to be free, to see
what life brings, you or stronger me

the music floats inside, forever on
a gentle melody, a swan's sweet song

the crescendo rises, leaps on high
the future brings pain or regret's soft sigh

the words rise from the depths, soft, aching
I script best I can, with digits shaking

do I fear the pain or do I hold on
as I write this poem, this song

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Awe Shucks

Clam shucker yup that's me.
Ice cold or hot from the pot
will you take 6, 12, or 3 ?
Oysters, shrimp and crabs
complete the lot.
Fresh seafood in summer
hits the spot.
Island music is what 
I choose to play.
It makes the customers
come my way.
Toes tapping some dancing
while they wait.
To be shucked
the clam and oyster's fate.
The village street comes alive
when I arrive.
The music sets the beat
as people fill the street.
It's work but in a wonderful way
clam shucking for my pay.

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On the Way to a Doubleheader in 1964

Turn that radio off. I don’t want to hear anymore. All they play is music from that Liverpool Fab Four. Those four English guys are polluting the airwaves. Somehow, their music is what my girlfriend craves. These bums look strange with that disgusting long hair. They drive the girls batty, but I don’t seem to care. Anyway, let’s get going. It’s starting to get late. If the Phillies win both games today, won't that be great?

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During Summer, exactly at eight o'clock
Fred's chiming ice cream  truck 
came down my busy block...
it was time to do the Playboy's Rock!

I began the chorus of a very funny song with perfect rhyme,
" The shortest ones in front of the yellow line,
then the tallest ones behind those with cheeks of color wine; 
each one of you must name a favorite ice cream that costs a dime! "

" Ah, Ah " was their reply to my request,
 I replied with a bitter, disappointed voice,
" That's how you react being a guest?
Once you refuse to name it, no second chance! "

" To get your free ice cream, kiss me as the Beauty kissed the Beast! "
and say, " Thank you! Aren't you a boy so charming and sweet? "
Come on pretty girls, sing the Playboy's Rock...the same way Elvis
sang, " Jailhouse Rock! " swinging frantically his skinny feet!

9/ 9/ 2012

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Music in My Heart

Soul Tunes~contest

                                      I have to say Rock n Roll music has always
                                                 been a huge part of my life.
                                  From a Beatle to a solo artist, his song " Women" 
                                            was the first I danced to with my wife. 
                                From the roars of Led Zepplen to screams of Ozzy.
                                           "No more Tears" is a way for me to be.
                                     "Behind Blue Eyes" was a song dear to my heart.
                                     As "Journey" was the group when we were apart.
                              Early eighties in Jersey watching Van Halen have their say.
                              As time with a flame and Styks, we ran and sailed away
                                     But it all comes back to the four from Liverpool.
                               That's how I learned to dream, I'm on a hill but no fool.

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Lover's Concerto

One of the greatest classical composers was a Prussian. Herr Bach went by the name of Johann Sebastian. Laboring at his harpsichord, his compositions were many. He wrote a rather short tune that was quite pretty. It had an upbeat, allegro type melody. His famous piece was the “Minuet in G”. Along came three young women in the twentieth century. ‘The Toys” would become this trio’s adopted name. One hit song catapulted them all to fame. With a small band, they entered a recording studio. Their production became a hit nearly everyone would know. They sold many recorded copies of “Lover’s Concerto” If Johann Sebastian were alive today, he would be pissed. He could not get a copyright, and all those royalties were missed. Inspired by a video from You Tube

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Musical Mate

Rapture when it voice embraces mine
Encapsulates the beauty of each sound
So clearly describes my mood all time
Makes me traverse the world round

The notes adapt so easily to emotions
Like a mother’s love without imitation
Strength of strings vary to give notions
Like a blessing coming from heaven

Bridges and pegs modify for happiness
A best friend guiding my soul forever
Taking away all thoughts of sadness
Satisfying the loneliness if I feel ever

True companion of hot summery days
Turns winter nights beautiful with tune
Plectrum strikes to giving joyous space
Renders ecstatic smile not easily swoon

Relives each time when the chords play
Like a child resuscitates a fading heart
Inspires to move ahead whatever may
Music creates an ambiance to re-start

Lost in busy life gives a worthy break
Spending time with whole self and self
Gives the desired while takes away fake
A Companion my life just waits to delve

Name: Sneha Agarwal
Contest Name: Sound madness
Instrument Name: Guitar

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Diversity Or Perversion

We often hear many talking about "diversity." Seldom does anyone acknowledge... "perversity." What's "right or wrong," has led to much confusion. As our nation idulges in so much perversion. Many don't know which direction they're being led. As many have rejected what God has already said. His divine and holy principles are being "torn apart." We are witnessing a "division of the heart." Our only hope and answer in all of this mess. Is a way of living that is "God-blessed." His blessings in our life is what we need to enjoy. His word in our way of living... We should daily employ. Without a Godly direction... Our nation is "off course." God is our only refuge and defense... Against this "evil force." Now's the time to return to Christ and engage in prayer! His hands will keep you in his tender mercy and care. Though the whole earth crumbles... and it's governments shaken. Jesus remains our bedrock... and our only solid foundation! By Jim Pemberton 05/07/09

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A dreamt event
for the newly-wed,
both looking sharp;
how many hand-written invitation cards
have they sent
with the reddest heart and lovely words? 

Down the church isle they will go with a tight-sealed tounge;
an organist will play the famous wedding song...
be ready to greet them with wide smiles,
despite your approval or disapproval, don't show your intent! 
Oh, never try to crash a dreamt event 
for the newly-wed, you may get unpleasant surprises
from that priest or reverend performing the holy matrimony!
Be quite and listen, or don't bother to attend the cerimony!  

Some envious eyes fix their manacing, inappropiate glances
on them...dreaming of what could have been;
why can't anyone openly admit their sin?
Don't be a pretender and continue the dance,
anyone can sense those thoughts of anger
and resentment...why are you looking so ghostly?
Let go of all stupidity and don't use puffery...
congratulate them with a cheerful toast and a hearty laughter!

A dreamt event 
for the newly-wed,...
kissing passionately
without embarassment,
but as others watch with contentment...
the flower girls follow them gracefully 
as they hear the wedding bells at twelve!

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All There for the Taking

The catering was finished and the music had begun,
The young groom and the priestess were out back having fun.
The organ grinder's monkey grabbed the sheriff’s only gun,
Shot the preacher in the neck and took off on the run.

An ambulance soon arrived, was just in the nick of time,
Swore he didn't want to die when he was in his prime.
They gave him an injection and a ticket for the mime,
And told him this was payment for each an' ev'ry crime.

The bride was crying loudly when the priestess did return,
Heard her say his absence was no longer her concern.
There's bridges and there's bridges that been left for him to burn,
Turned and walked out the door and the meeting was adjourned.

The bar had been reopened and the strangers shuffled in,
One took fancy to the bride and her wide open grin.
They danced to music playing and talked about secret sin
But in the end walked away from places they had been.

She opened up the closet, saw the monkey sitting there,
Was holding a smoking gun, waving it in the air.
He aimed the pistol at her and she sank into the chair;
She felt the preacher combing her long unbraided hair.

The morning found the priestess sitting by an empty bed,
Was dreaming of a groom that she never got to wed.
She thought about his loving and roads that they would tread;
She thought about the monkey and those he had shot dead.

The bride was buried Thursday deep inside a pauper's grave,
Right next door to the preacher, whom no one tried to save.
The groom watched from far away, his boat drifting on a wave,
Once more saw priestess taking more than she ever gave.

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Pure Class

Music was always my great love
throughout all my years of living
having liked many types in that time
even although I couldn't really sing

In the past decade of time
I've really loved classical so much
it's a music that reaches to the depth
to effecting the heart with slightest touch

To think I loved punk in seventies
never believed I would change to this
but classical covers such a span
of emotional moods full of bliss

My favourites cover many types
from violin, harp and cello
to clarinet, flute and guitar
some up tempo to others more mellow

It's such a treat to sit quietly
to listen to a classic piece
reading my favourite poetry
such unity entwined wish never cease

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Take me by the hand
Come with me to this far away land.
Where life as we know it comes to an end.let

We journey back in time
To a place that lives only in our minds.
Where the light shines so bright that it blinds.

The feelings of love ignite.
Let your mind lose control and take flight.
Begin this journey with me to Wonderland.

We travel hand in hand,
Without judgement, together we unite,
Without fear, we join for just one night.

The feeling of peace in the air,
Forget about worries,
Life without care.
Let the music take you there.
Move your feet to the rythym of the beat
Lose control for just one night.

Journey with me through Wonderland
A place never to forget.
Wonderland lives on tonight.
In my dreams, 
I close my eyes and look towards the light.

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Favorite Song Lyrics


I love music from Hank Williams, Sr. to Beethoven
Their sounds deep inside my heart are interwoven

But nothing else can take the place 
Of the words found in “Amazing Grace”

The phrase, “to save a wretch like me”
Remind me of God's love, you see

“Who once was lost but now am found”
Show me His blessings that abound

It set me free from turmoil and strife
And gave new meaning to my miserable life

Become familiar with its soulful words
No greater message can e'er be heard

I urge you to learn the entire song
If you do, my friend, you can't go wrong

You'll see for yourself why I say to you 
Let this become your favorite song too  

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Sing Me A Picture

Sing me a picture Paint me a song With shades and hues of verse Pale pastels for lyrics To color your words In shapes and patterns diverse Sing me a picture Paint me a song Dark pigments to accent the prose I will bask in it's beauty While it's story I hear Just for me a portrait compose

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One Night In Palanga

If,they say,you hear the music of the spheres,
Time stands still and temporality disappears.
Such magic transformed that outdoor spot
Where by chance we danced a lot.

'Twas the music that set our bodies spinning,
A moment of timeless joy the two of us pinning
In a harmony we hoped would never end
As though we two as one did blend.

Through motion etherealised
A dream was realised
Like twin atoms whirling in a dancing universe
We with timelessness did converse.

How the years from me did seem to fall
While we danced and whirled around the hall.
Your beauty shone with lustrous sheen
I felt like a king with my dancing queen.

Our life was with pure enchantment full
As the spell of the dance us both did rule.
Your sparkling eyes and shining face
Illumined were with ecstasy and grace.

Such a goddess you were in my mortal sight
That my wish was to dance with you  through the night
Yet the music ended,the spell was gone
But that magic moment in my mind lives on.

It is in such entrancing moments as these
Our thoughts dwell on our hearts to please.
Humbly I pray that as long as we breathe
More memories like this will we  both bequeath.

For those brief hours our life was paradise
Terpsichorean  the way our hearts did kiss.
Palanga now I apotheosise
And about that night will I aye reminisce

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Classics Dawn to Dusk

Being a lover of the classics
my show would be classically true
all the great composers would play
to lift listeners hearts that I would do

Raise the profile of young and new
these future prospects would perform
grabbing hold of today's audience
showing that this music is the norm

From dawn to dusk on the air
interviewing real classical talent
Mutter, Benedetti, Bocelli, Netrebko
just a few to get classical pulses sent

So that would be my show
loving every minute of it all
to bring pleasure to the many
music at it's height supremely tall

Just some thoughts if I had the opportunity to have my own radio show 
and what I would want it to be.

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Band 101

In Junior High, I decided to try
to play an instrument

I joined the band, French horn in hand
determined to make music

I lugged my horn, ready to mourn
for myself, as I walked home

Although I practiced, my butt, this horn kicked
I could never play a song

The noise I did play, made all ears run away
and was painful to mine as well

Like howling dogs, the sound was all wrong
and frightening to my neighbors

Children cried on my street, men were white as a sheet
mothers ran out to buy ear plugs

But I didn't upset, became teacher's pet
And won the band's top accolade

With trophy in hand, I took a stand 
and never returned to band

This is a true story but SLIGHTLY exaggerated

By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, January 31, 2012
5th place in Self Exaggerations contest

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Some folks like a little wine
To relax and unwind
Others prefer a good book
And on those pages they become hooked
Many take a stiff drink
To work out those  stressful kinks
Exercise is the tonic for others
As they flex and forget all  their bothers

Listening to music is how I like to chill
Sometimes with a joint,  if it fits the bill
And as the music continues to play
A  feeling of bliss comes my way
By: Joseph May 

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Holiday Music

When Christmas music blasts in stores,
It jangles all my nerves.
I really do not understand 
The purpose that it serves.

Such gaiety seems forced and fake,
Especially to me,
‘Cause I’m not one to celebrate
With wreath or Christmas tree.

But recently inside a shop
The dreidel song did blare.
You’d think I’d be excited
By a happening so rare.

However, you’d be wrong
For the reaction that I had
Was that songs of Chanukah, in stores,
Sound equally as bad!

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Summer Clouds Big And Small

Summer Clouds Big And Small

Summer clouds both big and small
castles in the air I recall
Sweetness in loves dearly missed
Gentleness in lovers softly kissed

So many loves sent to be embraced
too many due to be sadly erased
Yet music brought romance again
gentleness of my lover and friend

Life sent such good times to behold
gifts, riches and such romantic gold
Treasured memories floating around
renewed by the music of era's sound

Castles in the air, loves everywhere
simply sailing forth without a care
Living a young life so romantically wild
flying forth as a lusting, angry child

Summer sent girls so, so very sweet 
love's great banquet set for me to eat
Sky filled with romance and sweet kisses
memories of girls and such sad misses

Good thrills dancing into infinite times
words of love set in memorable rhymes
Music of past glories so very sadly lost
sweet pains recast but at what great costs?

Robert Lindley 07-06-2014

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Rock and Roll Music

Hello Mr. Berry. With you, I agree. Jazz may have pizzazz. Big bands razzmatazz. Classical can be found. For a long time, it’s been around. They all sound clever. However, I find one sound that’s terrific. Give me some of that rock and roll music. So say the Beach Boys. The late Mr. Lennon also enjoys. It makes me dance on the floor. Let it live forevermore.

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Instrumental Talent'

A young lad growing up in Sunday school,
Learning of Moses, David, and the golden rule.
God had place within him a talent:
The ability to make music on an instrument'

The teenager feeling somewhat insecure,
Not even certain whether God loved him anymore.
Still, he attended his church almost every week,
Hoping to find answers that he did seek.

Occasionally he played in the worship band,
And there he began to sense God's marvelous Hand.
His talent and confidence grew and grew,
People could see the Lord shining through'

God moved him out of his comfort zone,
And took him to a land far from his home.
While he was there, he began to understand,
God is God, the same in every land.

Christians world-wide gather to worship and praise,
And music is only one of their ways,
To express their love for Jesus in the manner He meant,
He became even more skillful on his instrument.

In a short time, God opened even more doors,
For him to use his talent on other foreign shores.
When he finally lays down his guitar, horn, and drum,
He'll hear his Lord say, "A job very well done'"

As long as he remains humble along life's way,
God will use him mightily as he continues to play.
The Lord gives us talents to be used for His glory,
That hearts may be touched by the great Gospel story'

Discover your talent, then don't be ashamed,
To develop and use it to worship His name.

                                                                             Arthur Ball (H.S.L.P.)
                                                                             January 15, 2006


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Nature's Symphony

I needn't don a tuxedo nor pay a dime to enjoy a pleasing symphony!
In my own back yard or lying abed at night I hear nature's harmony!
The rolling bass of thunder, the strobe-bright lightning on a stormy night,
Plus the rain pelting my windowpane, anoint me with pure delight!

A chorus of crickets in the holly bush lull me to sleep in Morpheus's arms.
I'm awakened at dawn by choirs of robins, not by strident clock alarms!
The vagabond winds soughing through the ponderosa pine join the recital.
Cicadas add a blend of percussion with castanet-like rhythm so very vital!

A quartet of mourning doves serenade me with their soothing coos,
(Interrupted by a pair of raucous blue jays injecting their atonal views!)
I hear the water's hymn as it trickles o'er ancient stones in a nearby rill,
And the delightful choral melodies of golden finch as they sweetly trill!

From afar I hear the clarion trumpet call of elk echoing in the hills!
The merging of these harmonic voices is one of life's gratifying thrills!
How I relish the exquisite orchestration of His creatures in glorious recital.
Oh, that I had the poetical acuity to give this symphony a deserving title!

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

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It's the most famous of all musical instruments,
with shining black and white keys
that make beautiful sounds 
to delight the composers' minds.

Many famous composers played it beautifully
in opera houses, schools and churches...
large audiences listened and admired their creativity
while their spirits soared to the Heavens!

Verdi and Mozart wrote from it as if they were lost in contemplation,
spending long hours, sometimes days, writing sumptuous melodies;
see a well-kept lead sheet of the times...
to get that feeling of awe and creation! 

If many famous composers played it beautifully,
can I do the same and amaze others as they did?
It's always been a fantasy standing in front of a crowd,
but playing it to myself in a quite room it's pure ecstasy!

Today that musical tradition still continues
getting more popular than ever
and it's widely used in songs and symphonies; 
I have tried it and learned it well.

Out of the few instruments I've played,
I prefer this one to compose as I play it...
its awesome feeling can't be matched 
by any other means: it's so obsolete!

Written by Andrew crisci
for nette oncloud's contest,
" Sounds Madness "
the instrument: piano

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Searching For My Lord

 (verse 1)
I can't hear Him,
I can't see Him,
But I know He's very close to me.

I can't feel Him,
I can't touch Him,
But I know He's got his eyes on me.

So Im packing up my bags,
Praying He'll take me by the hand,
Cause Im going to search around this world,
For my Lord.

Im searching high,
Im searching low,
Im searching everywhere around the world for my Lord.

Im searching to,
Im searching fro,
Im searching everywhere around the world for my Lord.

 (verse 2)
He created this world,
With His own two hands.
He has turned the Red Sea,
To dry land.

He has saved Noah,
And Noah's family
And I know He'll do the same,
For you and me.

So brethrens and sisters,
Lets all pack up our bags,
Cause we're going to search around the world,
For our Lord.

We're searching high,
We're searching low,
We're searching everywhere around the world for our Lord.

We're searching to,
We're searching fro,
We're searching everywhere around the world for our Lord.

(verse 3)
Im searching for my Lord,
In your eyes.
Im searching for my Lord,
In your heart.
Im searching for my Lord'
In your soul.
Searching for that love'
Thats purer then gold.

 (verse 4)
Do you believe in Him,
Like He believes in you.
Do you show Him that your love,
Is true.

Yes I love my Lord,
And I know He loves me.
For that is what the Bible,
Tells me.

So brethrens and sisters,
Lets all pack up our bags,
Cause we're going to search around the world,
For our Lord.

We're searching high,
We're searching low,
We're searching everywhere around the world for our Lord.

We're searching to,
We're searching fro,
We'er searching everywhere around the world for our Lord.

Oh yes we're searching everywhere,
Around the world,
In your eyes,
In your heart,
In the soul of yours,


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II I Could Fly 2

if i could fly 
i would never cry
about how this world try to fry
all the spirit from my life 

i would never cry
about the trials
keeping me behind 

no, if i could fly 
i would take my tired eyes
to the deep valley of strife
and fly away to the mountain high

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Marital Foetus

All things considered,
I saw it coming,
temperature'd risen
I felt such famine.

I watched you passing,
eyes filled with chores,
and hated fasting,
craved for your shores.

My being, swollen, 
dreamed of embraces,
your love, delivered,
in secret places.

Humour my cravings
my love deliver,
out of your savings
in lust and fever.

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Eyes Closed

"Eyes Closed"

                " Living is easy with eyes closed, misunderstanding all you see"
                     Drawing conclusions without opening the book is wrong..
                        Only hearing the music and not the words of a song..
                                Finding love beyond the trees of the forest..
                          But in the end finding a place for my head to rest..                
                    Sometimes the pages stick together and we miss the theme.. 
                           Because in the end what we see in the mirror is not 
                                                    always as it seems..                       

"Strawberry Fields" The Beatles
For Matt's music quote contest...

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Barenaked Ladies

You are four talented musicians coming from up north. Several very good sounding albums were brought forth. In a few short years, you have ascended to fame. However, where did you ever come up with such a name? The hit songs continue to be played on the radio. All four of you have become a group many people know. How did my woman get comp tickets for your concert to see? It seems like something beyond belief and reality. This group will perform Saturday night in Atlantic City. I find it hard to believe. Why don’t you pinch me?

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A midnight kiss

Long days end in night without fail
and are hidden in midnights vail
star as Gods eyes with which to gaze
upon Lovers covered in haze
caress a system heat and star
body curved and fair from afar
could lovers stand in ever day
not speaking what their lips shall say
the day celebrates tender love
a gift from the true God above

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His soul was born from the sun of South Miami,
when the water of the beach was caressing the sand
while the birds were flying freely through the blue sky
and the grooves of dance music colored the streets

The smell of cuban coffee scented the scenery
when forks and knifes were dancing on the plates
with delicious foods from around the world
there were people rollerblading all over the place

He raised from the depths of a Classical Composer
but he put the cool sunglasses on
he looked at the skyscrapers with ambition and glory
and listened to the sounds of lounge groovy songs

He turned on the computers to master his programs
listened to the universal karma and felt the muse
plugged the synthesizers, turned on the microphone
"Chillin' in Miami Beach" he said ...

... and was born: CMongrooves!

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So Sweet

 So sweet
  The lonesomeness of the city light street
 has me hearing the sound of my heart beat,
 I quickly fall to sleep, I wake up and stand
 looking outside from my widow balcony.
 I see two homeless men standing in line
 whom I randomly see in this street,
 scuffling in their packets from a handouts,
 for good bite to eat as they gladly retrieve their treat
 which is a pleasant cite for flooded eyes to see
 moreover on the opposite side of the street,
 I see people set down enjoying
 a late morning sunny breeze in front of a restaurant
 chattering, bonding, eating and drinking as 
 I share with them lessoning to the smooth sound
 of the music, children laughing and playing
 on the playground and on hard concrete street however
 not wanting to hear the havoc of the noise, 
 and the rush of a saturated street.
 That is a part of life... which can be sound and can be so sweet.


So Sweet Poetry 10/28/10 by Keith K. Relf

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Every Night

Every night we are in love
All messages have romantic verse
and your lines are ecstatic terse
Every night we are in love

Every night we long for love
Your questions are deeply implied
and my answers are feign when replied
Every night we long for love

Every night we sing the music of love
Your voice is dulcet in my ears
Like a song piercing my heart in tears
Every night we sing the music of love

Every night we dance my love
You carry me and played with fires
and there is turbulence in your eyes
Every night we dance my love

Every night, I dream of you
Close from the things you do
You remain with me every night
Every night I love to see in my sight

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The Heat is On

Eagles band member Glen Frey went solo. He recorded a hit many of you must know. I would say most of us here were alive back in the not-too-distant year of 1985. I was sitting at a restaurant table popping a wine cork, somewhere along Broadway up in New York. A live band there started playing Mr. Frey’s song. My date and I could not resist dancing along. Believe me, I could tell you the heat was on that night. The woman I was with proved to be such a delight.

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The Feverish Ballad Of Doctor Zim

I am Dr. Mario and you bow down to me
Look at my convincing skinny body (with green pigment, claws and)
This is not a costume, I am so Italian
I will give you abortion and (I'll eat your babies at no extra charge!)

I am Dr. Mario and I will kill your wives
Come to me when you've been cut by lasers, I mean sharp knives

Brightly colored pills (TAKE THIS!)
Take until it kills (TAKE THAT!)
Just as long as you're ready to PAY! THE! BILLS! (HA!)

In-va-der the world...
Death from above...truth has un-furled 

Now you know my name! (WHAT?)
This is not a game! (WHY?)
All you filthy Earthling vermin ARE! THE! SAME! (HA!)

(Doomy doomy doomy doomy) X3
Doom doom doom doom doom doom doom doom 
(Doomy doomy doomy doomy) X3
Doom doom doom doom doom doom doom doom

Know my?

Spa-ghet-ti is so good, dude

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The Sound of Music

I never thought when you talked, it would trap me
I wasn't prepared for it, it made me weak
Like music it plays right into my head, my own little tune
If anything, i needed to escape to you
To get away from any affliction, that will break me down
Inside my head, plays a little sound
not too low, not too loud
Call it a drug?, whatever, its all i want to hear
Baby you're music to my ears ?

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The Dance

There's much chatter now
Nothing but love in the air,
Many couples are forming
For the sweetheart dance is near.

Wondering what boy will ask you
Should you ask, You wouldn't dare,
Nervously and patiently you wait
This is far to much for a girl to bare.

The dreaded shopping begins
Find the right dress for you,
One not to long or short
But will fit just perfect for you.

Shall it be frilly or lace
Purple, blue, or red,
Feeling anxious and confused
Should you choose pink instead.

Upon thinking you should give up
There it is before your eyes,
The perfect dress for you
Just like a dream, its the right size.

A glamerous silky gown on
Dancing slow under the ligh,
You and your handsome date
Memoris forever made that night.

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The Shirelles

This is one of the most famous “girl groups” anyone knows. They began in Passaic, New Jersey as the “Poquellos” The four members were Shirley Owens and Beverly Lee, along with Addie “Mickie” Harris, and Doris Coley. These four young girls had a huge stroke of luck for a fate when they had Mary Jane Greenberg for a high school classmate. This start of some great careers took place in nineteen fifty-eight. Mary Jane’s mother operated a small record label. Florence Greenberg knew these girls were quite talented and able. Now known as “The Honeytones”, they recorded their first song. “I Met Him on a Sunday” was a hit. It did not take long before “The Shirelles” became a popular recording act. Their success in entertainment became a solid fact. Everything with their careers seemed to be going quite right. “Dedicated to the One I Love” and “Tonight’s The Night” along with “Baby, It’s You”, “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow”, “Mama Said’, and many other hit songs some people would know boosted their popularity and brought them much joy. However, their biggest hit was a short one called “Soldier Boy” This intended B-side song brought them their greatest success. It went to number one, and brought everyone happiness. That little song they did not care for helped them on their way. Success and fame continued for this group from day to day Music from this girl group is still played and enjoyed today. Thanks to both online encyclopedia and for information I obtained to write this poem.

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The orchestra of wind blowing
Through lush green trees
Builds from a whisper
To a forte with ease.

Lightning casts a blinding light
In white, dangerous rhythm
Thunder drums quietly, then boom
In crescendo to the anthem.

Maestro of land, sea and sky
Of many sounds and sights
Living, breathing, symphonies
Singing lullabies at nights.

And then to amaze us all
Playing symphonies again
Applause ripples through the valley
And showers us with rain.

The rise and fall of notes
A rush of lightning rhapsody
The concerto finally comes to rest
In such peaceful harmony.

© Hazel

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In a river marsh, where pondweeds and cattails grew in warm clime,
the fair girl found a tall, black egret  
with whom she could have a chat; 
and was it the same one that her parents rescued from the wild?

Among bulrushes taller than she actually was,
the anxious girl told that bird one of her wishes:
to hop on his back and fly as the happiest butterfly,
and find her mom whom she remembered singing a lullaby.

" Take me to my mom!"  she begged the wading bird.
" Nobody ever takes me there to visit her" she exclaimed.
" She may be miles away from here...way past the blue ocean!" 
He replied with little confidence, lacking a sense of emotion.

The fair girl kept on begging, until the black egret finally nodded.
" Thank you, kind let's fly and depart from this marshland!"
So the two of them ventured into a cloudy sky expecting no rainfall...
not until they had gotten there safely and heard that sweet mother's call..  

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The Beauty of Music

rhythms sound across the room
like a rose in full bloom

the beauty of it moves us all
jam packed against the wall

we dance, we shout, we sing
it’s a very beautiful thing

to be apart of this life
even when we are in strife

music can solve all your trouble
in your own little bubble

forget the world and your fears
music can dry your tears

dance until you fall down
trip and fall upon the ground

cool underneath your feet
get back up, dance to the beat

music is the best way to express
the way that we will impress

the people that we love 
and we consider high above

the troubles of our days.
we write music to amaze

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Recently, I promised myself to make drastic changes;
again, I have fallen into yesterday's habits.
So unchanged they seem as my esteem:
they must be controlling my rebelling genes,
but making changes isn't for the better, I deem.
So unchanged they seem as my esteem;
again, I have fallen into yesterday's habits...
recently, I promised myself to make drastic changes.


He had an aspiration for greatness that could have blossomed into realized dreams;
he headed to New York City wearing shining boots and tight, faded blue jeans,
" He's a real Texan cowboy! " someone shouted in the noisy athmosphere... 
and he accidentally heard that with surprise and it sounded pleasant to his ear.
He had talent and was seeking a vocalist's job, singing on Broadway's streets.
" He's a real Texan cowboy! " someone shouted in the noisy athmosphere. 
He headed to New York City wearing shining booths and tight, faded blue jeans;
he had an aspiration for greatness that could have blossomed into realized dreams.

Entered in David William's contest,
" Palindrome Mad "
Written by Andrew Crisci


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Dolly Parton

She’s a buxom blonde with a pretty face,
Who carries herself with such strength and grace.
From the humblest of beginnings, she got her start
Her songs are sweet poetry that comes from the heart.

There’s power in her words and I am lifted up high
By lovely songs like Silver and Gold and Love is like a Butterfly.
And a Coat of Many Colors always brings a tear to my eye
While working 9 to 5 leaves me feeling all revved up and alive.

Dolly’s quite a storyteller and with the turn of a phrase
She’ll wrap you up in her soft hearted ways.
Full of glitz and glam, she’s quite a showgirl
But she’s a down home country gal, in a showboat world.

She writes about life experiences and what she sees
Just the same as any poet, I’m sure you’ll agree
And with a voice so sweet, steady and strong
I hope her words will echo, on and on.

© 06-29-2012
Dolly Parton
For: What songwriter Inspires you Contest

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The reason I was born

The reason I was born

I was sitting it was after noon
I didn’t know what to do
So I picked up my old guitar
And played chords, just a few
I could not play for very long
Cause me hands went numb as hell
Ever since I had that lousy op
My body don’t do too well.

My hands are numb. my poor hip hurts
I’m tired all the time
This body that I’m living in
Isn’t worth a single dime
But I won’t let it get me down
It’s still a lovely day
The birds still sing amidst the trees
In a very lovely way

So I decide to write a poem
Cause that’s just what I do
The rhymes flow smoothly from my pen
And soon I feel brand new
The body might feel down a bit
But my soul is in fine form
To write songs is my destiny
The reason I was born.

19 July 2014 @ 1652hrs.

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And we all thought that Christmas
was a jolly season for all ages,
but we've ignored pain...not seeing tears
roll down those cold and fearful cheeks!

Some weep, some rejoice...
others don't celebrate, but rage with malicious eyes;
wasn't that child's birth announced by angelic voices
that attested He was God's choice?

Depression is the worst kind of sadness,
and unless the noticeable signs are felt or filled with alarm:
we may lose persons very dear to us...
before tragedy strikes, intervene to save them from harm!

Some weep, some rejoice....
many show blind belief and resist
to give the Redeemer due praise;
they are the fools who follow a cult!  

Why should this holiday be so sad,
wasn't Jesus born to bring us joy...
that's what every joyful angel proclaimed
as they crowned Him king for eternity!

Some weep, some rejoice...
others don't conceive the true worth of Heavenly glory,
they hate goodness and despise holiness:
mocking and twisting the pure image of faithful Mary!

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For the Sake of Rhymes

If music had taste yours would be tofu
Fills you up, but unsatisfying to chew
Let me tell you what I don't want,
Not the same ole same,
If I hear another Swift super-hit I swear I'm gonna lose it
Need something so diverse
That it don't feel like it could work
Hip-hop with a classical twist
Country that makes you clinch your fists
That mainstream tastes like tap
It makes me crave mountain spring
Don't need that gangsta rap
Where violence is it all it could mean
Going on about bangin' and hustlin'
Being chased by the cops
That ties together with 1-2-3 beats
And kid-friendly pop
Cause you judge music by popularity
I want something fresh even if it's bad
I'm desperate for originality!
Cause I'd rather make a beautiful mistake
Then stick to the script of this ordinary play
I'd rather fail epically at trying something different,
I wanna say that was mine!
I don't wanna just soar my way through,
Like a block of cheese on the assembly line
Music should be about freedom of expression
Nowadays it seems, it's a copy and paste nation
I have much more respect for the guitar man on the street
With a bucket full of nickels and dimes
Than the voices you hear everyday, like clockwork,
Bathing in the wealth for the sake of rhymes
What happened to the blood, sweat and tears?
Those tools artists used to use quite frequently, when making a jam
The radio once sang about true love and deepest fears.
Now it's like "write out a complete sentence, if you can"
Please don't strain yourself though, you just might be onto something
You just might be practicing an age-old equation, melody plus meaning
It equals YOU! isn't it obvious?
You might just be pouring out your heart,
And showing the world exactly who you are.
Are you saying it's a party every night, and it's all just a game?
Are you saying it's cool to be brain-dead if you got the money, is that your aim?
Don't leave yourself out of the hits you create
Cause it does matter, and there's little kids who look up to you
You have it in you to be great, for the love of God, don't procrastinate!
It isn't just records deals and labels, it's life and how you live it
Music shouldn't be organized and categorized, that spiel has gone far enough
Wouldn't you much rather be making a tune that plays into peoples lives...

... for the sake of love?

NOTE: I wrote about this topic before in Five Minutes Effort. But it's something I can really sink my teeth into and chose to give it another go.

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Your song touched many hearts as it hit the top of the music charts. What wonderful lyrics and melody to a song titled “I’ve Never Been to Me”. This is still something we occasionally hear. However, what happened to your career? Everyone would like to have you back here. We don’t know why you disappeared from the scene. The world awaits for another song, Charlene.

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Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue

Toby Keith, there is so much we owe you for your song “Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue”. Your country band backed up your strong singing voice. The sound you produced became a nation’s choice. Since those twin towers in Manhattan were downed, the might of the USA was motivated by your sound. Every man, woman, and child felt patriotic once they heard your song that was terrific.

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What makes me get up
is the strongest coffee cup,
and the enthusiasm to live a full day:
either indoor to write, or outside to play.

Watching movies is fun, but laziness stores fat in my belly,
sitting on the coach, eating potato chips and drinking cola;
junk food won't harm my body if used moderately...
is there a sunnier, warmer place than California?

What wakes me up is the noise of a robin
tapping on my foggy window with his tiny beak;
if he's hungry, he'll flap...if he stands still, it means it'll rain,
hoping I'll invite him in and warble another tune he learned down the creek.

Vacations are far away, late July on my calendar of active man...
choose North or South, snow or sunshine?
Go skiing, or play gulf all day then dine
at the nearest restaurant, but my choice would be zesty Italian.

Isn't my lifestyle exciting and busy, not envying the rich,
or resent the luxuries they can afford along with caviar and champagne?
My pleasures are simple and inexpensive, like the sandiest beach...
you can come along and experience the thrill of an enjoyable day in slow lane.

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When Henry gets upset, I sing
And now he sings right back,
Thought there are certain elements
Of singing he does lack…

Like keeping tune or rhythm
Or the lyrics to the song.
At almost eight months old, I’m thrilled
That he can sing along.

You wouldn’t be impressed at all
If you would hear him sing,
But it’s the sweetest music
To my ears that he could bring.

Though no one else would listen
To our “harmony,” I’d bet,
My heart’s aglow when me and Henry
Warble our duet.

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It filters through the Venetian blinds of that open window,
to give me an early wake-up call...
no, it isn't unpleasant after all
to come from under the warm covers to catch that glow!

And although it's a little chilly out on the balcony,
I don't shiver in my long robe, which feels so velvety;
no, I wouldn't miss the sun's greeting over there...
when the seagulls land on the sand and stagger!

I may feel sleepy but willing to witness the aural splendor,
which is far greater than a scarlet sunset of a calm evening;
I can hear the fluttering sounds of the leaves that revitalize my dormant feeling...
then, I will bow down and revere Him whose love is the eternal source of wonder! 

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I saw spiders and thought of you
Confidently I knew you were thinking of me too
Thousands of miles and states apart
Somehow I was still drawing a heart
The treacherous beats kept silent
But those lips got violent
I tossed up the Cure and thought about the night I wished we weren't so pure
Not over done, we flew straight
Not a grave in sight for you and I 
Months ahead bound steady
Everyone says its hard
But i've seen every card
This ace is guaranteed to beat
Never once did I cheat
How's that for a first time commitment 
When you come back we'll see if the bet I placed doesnt catch me
The spider or the web?
Remember it's all in your head

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The Music Room

The Music Room

By Elton Camp

Mrs. Van Snoot, of the arts is a patron
She’s a stuffy, self-righteous matron

Who wants all, her virtues to see
Of any vices, she is entirely free

In the fundamentalist church, she’s a pillar
Pure living and sobriety are what thrill her

“Liquor’s never passed my lips,” she said
“Before I’d imbibe, I’d far rather be dead.”

Late afternoon and well into the night
In her music room she’s locked up tight

A huge bass fiddle is on display
It serves in a decidedly uncultured way

For its front can be pushed aside
A well-stocked bar it does hide

Mrs. Van Snoot loves wine, whisky, & gin
Completing the rounds, she starts again

Enjoying culture, for her, goes so far
And then she needs to visit her bar

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He Had To Go


He's gone and buried O, how sad 
Facts are hidden,there's more to add 
News of his death made world mad 
This is so sad, this is so  sad 

There's no King of Pop now 
Save he lives in our heart we know 
And his music forever will flow 
He had to go, he had to go 

Nothing can stop in heart the tears 
He's at rest and has no more cares 
My heart finds solace in prayers 
Short were his years, short were his years 

He's sleeping at peace while we cry 
It is hard for us to say good-bye 
Hearing his music makes me sigh! 
He just can't die,he just can't die. 

Dorian Petersen Potter 
aka ladydp2000 

September 14,2009 

Author's Note: Another dedication poem that I've written inspired by Michael Jackson.

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it almost always brings a smile

solar powered energy make literal
sunshine electronics in a style
and when your vindicated
it almost always brings a smile
in wind whispers sounds of electronics say
pressed buttons held together... all to my dismay
so sequential and in good time
when lyrics make music and those words make rhymes

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The Lord's Parade


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 is 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.

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

By: Joyce 4/7/04

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Tag! Your it! Like in the school days.
I got your mind lost, like you were in a corn maze.
This isn't Halloween, just another day of the week.
I'm always getting candy. I say forget trick or treat.
You can forget Flasnick. People just call me Flash.
My rap game's so scary, I say hell with the mask.
Forget Jason, They call me Lil T.
Wake up it's not Freddy, it's me you see in your dreams.
I'm rated X. Noway I'm PG13.
Sisco and Ebert said not to see the damn thing.
So if you do, you better call me the king.
I'll give you six days to live. I'm more hard core then the Ring!

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Rap Vs Poetry

Soft and effective words to gather the true meanings
From expressing about life to defining the word "feelings"
With attitude to greatness and power beyond minds
Lyrics and verses from two relatives that can rhyme

Words flying freely everytime in the mic
Both against each other from deepness to life
From snapping to clapping but both the same age
Making a living so which one is better with the words of rage

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If I Could Fly

If I could fly 
where would I try
to climb a mountain where birds lie	
safe from trappers 
blasting loud guns

If I could swim
where would I take fins
to swim a deep river with schools of fish 
unharmed by fishers
hook lining for their branchia 

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Spring Cleaning Symphonies

Songs found together,
Lost in the ether,
Never again to be heard.
Back in their cases,
Tied up with laces,
Memories captured , like birds.

Turn radio off,
A flame for a moth,
Sad, genial melodies.
They fissure my heart,
And hold me apart,
Snaring with sweet harmonies.

Anthems of love,
lost like a glove,
Just one half still listening.
These tunes heard alone,
Don't have any soul,
They no longer mean a thing.

31 Aug 2011

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<>I’m Geed up and get n ready 2 ride <> <>Needless 2 mention the way I feel inside<> <>There’s no surprise - just look n2 my eyes<> Where the very meaning of <>"I FEAR NO MAN BUT GOD" <>Is both defined and epitomized <> <>Don’t make me emphasize! <> <>If you don’t overdose you’ll be left comatose<> <>Anything more would leave you de-civilized.<>

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Hands Awake

Hands awaken! Speak out! Answer to sacred shouts,
subterranean whispering, to stars above rooftops—
thread sunlit branches with the chattering of a thousand leaves.

If fluxes and urgencies of confusion or death
should drawn you into your self-box, I say,
remember when one constructed self-prison fell away.
However you helped this forward,
do more of the same.

Be rain-hands, weeping, steeped in earth fragrance.
Be fingers in blossom, faces turning upward,
loves innumerable, rough-cut bedazzled—
unafraid to be splayed open.

Be pocketed hands, released to the welcoming wind—
multiplying there in mid-air,
riding the four directions.

Be hands of smoke and fire, descending and ascending like ragged bird-song—
effulgent, double-charged with surprise
and now even with mock surprises.

Start at the beginning, where you are.
Don’t be satiate with loll-lolling
recede wave’s tide, retreat back and back
into yourselves, until grown utterly intellectual and lumpish!

Now, you Human Being—you come awake also!
Sweep the furnishings from table. Upend the table lawlessly.
Bring the muscular, fleshy, feminine against the masculine and muscular.
Bring the masculine to the feminine. Bring friend to enemy,
estranged neighbor to the confidant. In a dance of pressing hands,
let subtle conversation play.

Ring all the tiny bells.
Stir the King and Queen of Remembrance.

In over-arching restraint, holding back one iota, so pure notes sound—
bring sunburst, sphere and harmony.
Make your entire body a listening board
forming therein—tender shape around which love
seed unfolds infinite spaces and then…

Spring awake! All to better dreaming
where hope and faith are undashed, not this dying.

O, hear me now! Hands, every which one of you,
with every human—never again sleep,
never abandon!

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Mister McCartney's Bad Grammar

From solo artist, to way back in his days with the Fab Four, the public adores Mr. McCartney, and always comes back for more. He has to be the most successful British subject from Liverpool. Two or three generations have found his music to be cool. After his Beatles days were over, he formed his own group called “Wings”. Paul uses some bad grammar in one of the songs he sings. We hear, “but in this ever-changing world in which we live in” in the song. Paul should know that the last “in” does not belong. That came from the theme song to the movie “Live and Let Die”. Success in record sales was something nobody could deny. As far as good grammar goes, I don’t think he would care. So many of his compositions have been heard over the air. Paul has avoided retirement, and maintains his popularity. In concert, he is still one of the more entertaining acts to see.

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It's All About The Lyrics

Some friends I know are loathe to share 
Affections for these word inflections
Try as I may they seem to scare
At thoughts of further introspections

If they should pry their headphones high
Peruse the verse their tune relies
They just might feel the big reveal
The rhythmic zeal and fresh appeal 
Within the rants they wryly chant
Just maybe then all won’t be lost
They may just pick up Robert Frost

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Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree Not Rated PG

I've missed you honey.

The kids are not home.

I can't wait until you're home.

So that we can get busy.

So that you can rock around,

The Christmas tree with me.

I've got mistletoe all over me.

Come on honey let's play,

All over the house! My holly berries,

Are filled with juice so,

Come on ,you fun loving man,

We can play all night and all day.

You can gift wrap me and open,

Me up, of your loving I can't get

Enough! We don't have to be,

Quiet as a mouse. There is no,

One here. The neighbors will,

Know our names again. Oh well,

We heard theirs yesterday!

I want us to deck the halls,

With screams and shouts,

And moans and groans,

 Until the cows come home.

It's lovely weather for a,

Sleigh ride on top of you.

Baby it's cold outside,

The mistletoe is hung

On me. Hey jingle me

All the way all night

And all day. The carol

Of the bells will ring 

For each round of

Us rocking around 

The Christmas tree.

Untinsel me. Take off

My garland. Turn off

The lights. Unwrap my,

Skirt. Your candy cane,

Will licked and not bitten,

And and the Christmas tree,

Stand I'll be sitting. 

My ornaments you may 

Move to the side,

And on the cane I'll slide.

I will soon sing,

Or rest you merry  man

After you sing, let it snow,

Let it snow, let it snow.

You'll then shout a laugh,

Ho, ho, ho, Merry

Christmas to you and,

To you a good night.

You rocked with me,

Around the Christmas tree

With all of your might.

wrote 12-12-10

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Rock-n-Roll Sanctity

Acid rock twilight-zone trip tunes
edged in freaked heavy-metal screech

sandpaper wrapping entombing raw youth
scarce comfort from words thinly preached.

Promise, faith, determination
stretched beyond a mere beseech

rainbow storms midst arid sand dunes
tsunamis of love's rampant truth. 


AC/DC: a rock band - pioneers of heavy metal
BC/AD:  respectively, the time before and after the resurrection according to the Christian tradition
Rhyme scheme: AC/DC.... bc, ad..

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G for Guitar

She rests her body in my lap,
and with my arms, to her i embrace...
stroking gently with my fingers,
she moans as her neck i caress...
when things go bad and im sad,
my tears fall and she lets out my cries...
gloomy, lonely and when im blue.
her tune takes me where the happiness lies...
six magical strings she wears,
in my touch, waiting to vibrate...
and as i do music arises,
and carries me to a heavenly state....
blessed be the man who created you,
blessed shall be, who hears your sound...
blessed i feel myself too,
as with you im so cozily bound.....

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Cosmic Kingdom

Thy moon is the camera,
Planet earth sets the stage,
Your existence is the movie,
Life knowledge is thy wage,

Every star is someones spotlight,
Each galaxy is someones home,
For thy universe exists within you,
A cosmic kingdom of your own,

Collaborate with thy neighbors,
Unto thine higher selves be true,
Every act is forever embedded,
The ensuing scenes are up to you,

Remain selfless with your creation,
For it is he whom reaps his own,
One who learns from past mistakes,
Shall one day sit atop their thrown!

~Zachary Allen Jackson~

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When their very young dad went to jail,
they surely lived in a realistic Hell...
I would hear the youngest one cry over an article she read.
Who had taken her daddy away was too cruel;
nothing they said would make her understand,
why didn't the harsh judge break some rule?

The judge's sentence was based on actual fact,
no pleads from the children softened her hard heart as she read the sentence,
" He committed this crime to feed his family so ashamed of his act,
and even dragged his younger brother along to help him steal by cutting fences. "
Then she made an eye-opening statement, " I must abide by the Law,
I am a judge of justice and fairness...not much I can do in this case;
let him behave and his sentence will be reduced in ten years. "
Everyone in the courtroom started to sob...tears began to flow.

I visited them often, and they seemed different people who couldn't admit
what he did was wrong, assuming he was innocent;
their smiles became cheerless, their words loveless:
a part of them was taken away, lost to hopelessness...
the younger daughter locked herself into her room, 
refused to talk to anyone and building that wall deepened her gloom.

Even this year they will not celebrate Christmas with the old thrill,
shopping for presents in crowded malls has lost that excited will,
not even the merriest Santa can make them smile with a jingle bell;
and he must think that they are strange kids who don't love the Holidays, 
perhaps reading them the Nativity Story will change their moody ways...
and to bring this family together will take patience and lots of prayers.

How would I ask Jesus, the new-born, who would love to see these kids at midnight?
They must show love to make this miracle happen on Christmas Eve; it has to start
with a heartfelt wish and deep faith, then the Heavens will suddenly open up...
as angels will descend to sing the hymn they sang before they desperately wept. 

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I'm a color guard mom,
I am honored and proud,
Cheering and very loud.

Dancing in a routine,
Stretching every body part,
Toning up muscles are smart.

Glitter girls are so sweet,
Moving flags to the beat,
Catching the flags are a treat.

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When I Dream

When I dream fills my imagination 
my mind knows no bound 
what could stop my dreams be true 
just dream to find it found 

It can be a mansion way up high 
even any gift you want to buy 
catch a flight to lovely Paris 
but to dream of you I cry 

Be a singer or a crown 
get a ticket to the moon 
be a beauty driving men insane 
maybe my dream will come along soon 

But no matter what I'll dream 
hoping and wishing it'll come true 
for someday maybe it will 
what I believe I will do 

To believe and dream of you 
makes it all crystal clear 
so don't stop dream on 
have hope always never to fear

AUTHOR NOTES: Based on my favourite song
When I Dream 
Crystal Gayle 
Written by Sandy Mason 
I could have a mansion that is higher than the trees 
I could have all the gifts I want and never ask please 
I could fly to Paris, oh, it's at my beck and call 
Why do I go through life with nothing at all? 

But when I dream, I dream of you 
Maybe someday you will come true 

I can be the singer or the clown in every room 
I can even call someone to take me to the moon 
I can put my makeup on and drive the men insane 
I can go to bed alone and never know his name 

But when I dream, I dream of you 
Maybe someday you will come true 
But when I dream, I dream of you 
Maybe someday you will come true 

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Last song

                                                A simple note,
                                         strung with words of love.
                                               A unique purity,
                                          Spoken from the heart,
                                           A fragment of beauty.
                                   With more strings that are strung,
                                      A brand new note has begun.
                                         Rushes of new emotions,
                                    All clinging to the same devotion.
                                        Strobing notes after notes,
                                    No longer needing to stay afloat.
                                     A book with its pages all fullfilled,
                                               A spirit now rests
                                       for it no longer has to rebuild

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My Job IS??

  No need for a C.D.
You enjoy listening to me.
     You giggle at my personality.
Inside a booth or a marquee.
     My choice of music pure energy.
I make you move your body.
     I set your spirit free.
No this is not an E.V;P.!

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Singer of the Song

My sweet sojourn has sung the hum 

   of song in wind....

For all the forest sings, beauteous ring

   most melodious on the wings 

   of 'poor' creatures, feathered beings;

   thy speckled chatter to shade 

   the dappled moss-bank,

   (so) silt on the fringes of bubbling brook,

Always glory to the pledges of earth,

   with little nest-homes on the dimples of life....

   how full the fields of melody-manna,

   the gossamer fattened worm, in early morn,

   grubs abound for fledgling mouths;

To feed the future with tender sound,

   quick cries, chirp-warble proud;

   the robin clucks and red wing blackbird

   singer atop the boughs 

   (prima-donna of sky)

   warble-wind chimes ----

   and shooting 'pews!" (what kind news!)

   and often: 'mews!'

The clouds shall lift and sun will come 

   and fly to warmer climes;

   children upon the bright winds,

   as feathered Lords wide with diadem hymns,

Perched on the cottage banks, 

   the hills at thy back sing with new-earthy hues;

   the rainbow has found a home one mount to each,

   how gold glitters in the folds of lilting noon.....

   the lilies upon the land sway,

The day is windswept from a lofty angel breath,

   to tether new-life ripe with melodies met;

I have come in my druid garb,

   and meshed in the weave of worlds

   filled with God's smile;

   prophet of the wood.....

   (to fulfill as Wordsworth would)

I welcome all to my school....

   in the easy cool, and sit in shade -----

   observe the warmth of the world,

   Christ has made me -----

   a hope to smile with all of you;

My strength is only as long as you all

   (shall sing with me!)

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Music Box Dancer

Upstairs is a pretty little music box that I love.
It has been waiting all alone for some years.
I have not heard its melody with my ears.
It stands in a dusty narrow attic above.

Walking among these things of an earlier day,
I reminisce of how I used to dance and sway.
I wound up the box, and the music would play.
Sweet memories are carrying me away.

Oh little music box, come downstairs with me.
Adorning the top of my dresser once more,
you will be something I’ll forever adore.
You will play and I will dance in harmony.

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Elvis Sings The Blues

A fictitious story of Elvis
so none of this is true,
made up from the titles of songs "
that made him the Elvis we knew

At first I thought "I Was The One"
then she left me at "Heartbreak Hotel",
believe me I was "All Shook Up"
and not feeling very well.

But since "My Baby Left Me"
and my "Hound Dog" ran away,
I still had to "Follow That Dream",
But I just didn't know the way.

So "One Night" I took the "Mystery Train"
heading for "The Promised Land",
to see "The Girl Of My Best Friend"
in the hope she would understand.

Although she's a "Hard Headed Woman"
she is "Always On My Mind",
but she doesn't always "Treat Me Nice"
sometimes she can be unkind.

I've still "Got A Lot Of Living To Do"
so I'll put on my "Blue Suede Shoes",
then go looking for "Long Tall Sally"
and try losing this "Mess Of Blues".

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Mozfart, like his brother was possessed of rare ability
Performing in Vienna for European Nobility
Farts of such, power, passion and brilliance
His pants we're reinforced for extra resilience

Amazing you'd think to have a musical bottom
But wouldn't recitals perhaps get a bit rotten
But although be blew through a rather large horn
The accompaniments were pleasant, I'm pleased to inform

For not only could Mozfart trump his brothers Sonatas
Without the use of additional apparatus 
With variable, fragrance, flatulence was he also empowered
And could make his blow-offs smell like a field full of flowers

Mozfart's trumper was a musical revelation
Where ever he went he was quite a sensation 
Farting Bach's Concerto in packed auditoriums 
Then making it smell of roses for standing ovations

This attention put his brother in such a foul mood
He put a tub of fart power in poor Mozfart food
To deliver his grand finale the maestro bent low
And as he exploded took out half the front row

Although he died tragically
He lived his life magically
So next time you think you're about to drop a potty
Think of poor Mozfart and his amazingly musical botty

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Singing Spheres

                                dusk comes now
                            in dress of velvet snow
                 the last bang splintered fractals of light
            and set the universe to dance in day and night
  music made the mazed world, and spheres' songs winging flight
                surged  love muted strains in shells that blares
                            a melody and snares
                                singing spheres  

David Smalling for "Night Melody" contest, 8/23/2012

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My Dream contest

If I told you what my dream really was,
You might think I had a serious buzz,
If I told you what was my fantasy,	
Some might think it could never be,

If I told you that late at night,
I dream of saving teens that live to fight,
Addiction, affliction, poverty and abuse,
 Where they are set up to eventually lose,

If I told you how I want to open an afterschool club,
With a music studio, a gym and lots of love,
If I told you it would be absolutely free,
 All the expenses would be on me,
If I told you there would be an art room too,
For all my future Picassos and Michael Angelo’s who

Never had anyone invest in them,
Our future generation of hidden gems,
If I told you it would be the hottest attraction,
Saturday nights would get a major reaction,
Drama plays, music gigs, art gallery’s made by our teens,
Authentic talent would become more appealing than becoming a street fiend,

Since schools are taking all these programs away,
Teaching to the test is the way schools now sway,
Many get lost in the tension,
No inspiration causes more suspension,
Children are more than just a score,
There artistic ability’s need to be matured,

Everyone is unique and 
My dream is to make a place,
Where at night kids won’t go out and waste
Their youth hanging out on the streets,
A place where they could make some beats,
A place to have fun and learn how to socialize,
Instead of growing up around hate, pain and lies,

My dream is to open it in the toughest spot,
Allow their work to make this building hot! 
Just maybe some would chose to come in and create,
Rather than stand in the cold and just sedate,
My dream is to make other teens dreams come true,
Give them a positive escape, and more options to pursue,

When I get the money, 
I will find away,
To transform the way our troubled teens 
see the world today.

By: Sabina Nicole

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Popping and Locking

Single Roll,

Push and Pull,

Toyman, Robot,
Shamrock, Waving,

Eqyptian Twist,
Romeo Twist,
It's Funk we're making

Double Lock,
High kick, handkerchief
Apple Hat,

Splits, Knee drop, Wrist Twirl,
a Layout that's flat,

Stripey socks, bright Zoot suit,
Marshmallow shoes,

Candy Hush Puppies, big smiles,
no need for blues,

Waistcoat, Braces, a Cane,
Bowler or Derby hat,

Popping and Locking has style
we can't get enough of it. 

Walk-out, Electric Boogaloos,
Iconic Boogaloo Sam

He's the man who made Popping,
for Locking, Don's the man

James Brown, get down,
Breakdown, Rufus Thomas,

Everyone needs to get funky
Don't be shy, join us!

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The Architecture of a Kiss

"Do you wanna dance?" he said,
and she said, "No, I hate this song."
"What kind of music do you like?" she said,
and he said to himself, "Now it won't be long."

He moved a little closer,
in the chaos it was hard to hear,
but the nearer he came, the softer she spoke,
until he could feel her breath upon his ear.

The room became smaller and hotter
as he watched her lips as she would speak,
and when he couldn't hold it back,
she let him kiss her on the cheek.

the architecture of a kiss.
They never expected to feel quite like this,
coincidental bliss.

The midnight world was warm and wild
as they stepped outside to say good night,
and when he kissed her it felt as if
they were falling through depths of height.

Parting for home,
each one alone, or as such.
They never expected healing so much,
all with one touch.

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Feathered Alarm Clock

Ready or not it is time to arise
She has been busy all night and it is time to close her eyes

She lives nearby high in a tree
Her rise and sleep cycle is an alarm clock for me 

She has been hunting all night and it is time to rest
She is feeding her owlets and tending to their nest

I hear them noisily demanding their food
they must be an adorable feathered brood

Then as dawn breaks in the sky
Mama owl proclaims it is time to say bye

She calmly sings her song acoustic 
I awake hearing her music

This natural cycle repeats every night
She tells me it is time for me to sleep as she takes flight

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I'd like to see Venice,
the city of eternal peace
to which poets and painters flock;
the sunset' hues are impressive at dusk.  

I'd like to ride in a gondola,
and admire La Serenissima
while the venetian gondolier sings a familiar song
that everybody loves...row gentler as you sing!

I'd like to join the Venice Carnival, and be somebody's handsome groom,
on the most eerie night, when there's a crowd in the Marco Polo ballroom...
in the palace everybody wears a vague mask and a bizarre costume;
be aware of the friendly ones who, with charm, have the intention to lure.

I'd like to watch the luminiscent moon 
rise over the Dome of Saint Mark's Basilica at night;
and for once without a visible, depressing spot...
it should smile at me while I croon.

I'd like to embrace that lovely woman
with eyes as green as the grass of a meadow;
and will she recognize me and forgive me again,
or sadly remain a broken-winged sparrow?

I'd like to bask in the warm sunshine
as the huge Adriatic sky becomes a real light blue;
and under Il Ponte dei Respiri I will glide
in that gondola as she lies next to me with a smile so true. 

Translation: La Serenissima ( The Most Serene ),
Il Ponte dei Respiri ( Bridge Of Sighs ).

Entered in Linda-Marie Bariana's contest,
" Viva Vacation "

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The Playing Fingers

Ten agile fingers play
Up and down the keys;
Ringing out the notes
Of many melodies.

Ascending to the right
And descending to the left;
Playing in the bass
Or in the treble cleft.

Sharps and flats 
And natural sounds;
Presenting melodious tones
All around.

The major and the minor chords
Starting at the "C";
Are played by the fingers
In pleasing harmony.

Practice makes perfect
As you can see;
As the notes rise
And fall emotionally.

God gives talents to those 
Ten agile friends;
So they can play the melodies 
To their very end.

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He had an aspiration for greatness that could have turned into realized dreams;
he headed to New York City with shining booths and tight, faded blue-jeans.
" He's a real Texan cowboy! " someone shouted in the noisy athmosphere...
he accidentaly heard that with delight, and it sounded very pleasant to his ear;
he had a tremendous talent and he hated to waste it on Broadway's streets.
" He's a real Texan cowboy! " someone shouted in the noisy athmosphere...
he headed to New York City with shining booths and tight, faded blue-jeans;
he had an aspiration for greatness that could have turned into realized dreams.

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Music Box Dancer

The music box dancer is so young and sweet
 turning on a pedestal up on her feet
Admiring her beauty makes all of us feel
 special people in our lives could be this real

But only one could be seen through his eyes
 she’s the brightest star up in his sky
Now she’s gone and he seems so alone
 crying and remembering just how she’d grown

Though every father has his own dreams
 this little girl became more than she seems
To him, his life would be so incomplete
 without his ballerina with the dancing feet

So for her he wrote this beautiful song
 telling her together was where they both belonged
Again in his arms she gives him a kiss
 tells about the good and bad, all that he’s missed

She has her own life and now he’s gone
 but always on that pedestal he put her on
His star will always shine while dancing ‘til dawn
 his music and his dancer will go on and on

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Watch the Snow

Sing to music of Deck the Halls

Watch the snow for big dog poopie
Ugh -ugh -ugh-ugh-ugh ugh -ugh-ugh -ugh
So unsightly, in a groupie
Ugh -ugh -ugh-ugh-ugh ugh -ugh-ugh -ugh
Look down now for those big accrue.
Ugh -ugh -ugh-ugh-ugh ugh -ugh-ugh -ugh
Roam your eyeballs, just before you.
Ugh -ugh -ugh-ugh-ugh ugh -ugh-ugh -ugh
Watch the russet pile before us.
Ugh -ugh -ugh-ugh-ugh ugh -ugh-ugh -ugh
Step up high and join the chorus.
Ugh -ugh -ugh-ugh-ugh ugh -ugh-ugh -ugh
Jumping up in measured sections
Ugh -ugh -ugh-ugh-ugh ugh -ugh-ugh -ugh
While they laugh with such infections
Ugh -ugh -ugh-ugh-ugh ugh -ugh-ugh -ugh

Go before the new snow covers
Ugh -ugh -ugh-ugh-ugh ugh -ugh-ugh -ugh
Brave the old pass, as light hovers.
Ugh -ugh -ugh-ugh-ugh ugh -ugh-ugh -ugh
Yell for joy now we made it home.
Ugh -ugh -ugh-ugh-ugh ugh -ugh-ugh -ugh
Never mind now, just a poem
Ugh -ugh -ugh-ugh-ugh ugh -ugh-ugh -ugh

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My Pupils

Fatigued eyes droop, lacking sweet slumber
But my eyes are an exception…everything’s a blur
They stare off into space…they ache with displeasure 
But I still wonder… my pupils still wander

My pupils still wander… never planted in one spot 
Their cup is half full…rather than half empty
My pupils see what others cannot  
Because… their too busy to smell the roses of plenty 

My pupils project feelings…
They comprehend – they spiral up and down
They express horrendous sorrows…they observe their surroundings 
My belongings are misplaced – my smile lowers into a frown

Optimism isn’t in the picture…bestowing infection
Upon my crestfallen heart 
I’m a broken compass – I’m losing my direction  
My animated heart tears apart 

Their voices are high in volume…rather than using half their volume
My pupils glance in many directions – beaming with glee 
Because they’re focusing too much on their social lives…let us resume
On with our soothing music 

Intrigued eyes lift…willing to wonder in curiosity 
But my eyes swelter, wearily drowning in discouragement  
They spot what others are too oblivious to see… 
Nonetheless, I still ponder…
Are my pupils singing merrily OR are they wandering in bafflement? 

Do I witness the fears and woes?

My pupils reject the precious scenery 
They are carefree – they are heedless of my despondency 
My pupils forever look forward to freedom…observe the hardships and disparity
My surroundings are chaotic and wild – my heart pounds profoundly…

My pupils…
Oh dear pupils…
Will you ever pay the bills?
Will you ever use your skills?

My heart bleeds in the river mills
My pupils ascend…above the dazzling hills 
My pupils spew out remorse 
My pupils are like open doors…

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The Beginning

I've always tried to understand 
the meaning of my mind. 
Why do I love the color green
and why am I too kind?

Why does music keep me alive
songs play in my head. 
Staring at my childhood picture
my image strong as lead. 

Barely 5 with green shirt on
staring off in space. 
Sweater threaded music notes 
rock and roll, please no lace. 

Mouth half way open
belting out a tune.
Eyes piercing through you
Sun so hot in June. 

Different from the others
the leader of the pack
The photograph that keeps me
Forging forward never back. 

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Reiki Music

Symbiotic melodies . . .
Transparencies of light
Shimmering from the inner self
Levitating to moonbeams bright. 

Hear the chiming bells, their rhythm
Serene with every breath inhaled.
Lie still and dwell within your heaven
Psychic mysteries unveiled.

Heal the heart, repair the soul
Release anxieties and strife . . .
Penetrate this body’s armor
Relax your shell to balance life.

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An Artist

You have woven wonderful musical tapestries. Many love listening to your sweet melodies as you sing and tickle those piano keys. Beautiful sounds come from those ivories. Your many concert appearances have aimed to please. How prolific you were with a commercial jingle. Your album selections make your fans tingle. Such compositions are nothing short of magical. Since you hit it big with your radio hit “Mandy”, years of fanciful songwriting have always impressed me. People all over the world know where you are from. May you continue to entertain us for many years to come.

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Lyric Man oh sweet Lyric Man
Will you write a song with me?

I'm a mere beginner but your lyrics inspire me
I can write poems that rhyme till they come out of my ears
Writing stunning lyrics like yours would simply take me years

Maybe we can get together and have a little play
To write a song with ‘Lyric Man’ would really make my day!

Jan Allison
6th August 2014

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Melodies Of Love Possess My Soul

Words are flowing easily
Love songs. poems and melodies
Every minute I'm composing
Lines of sweet love, care and showing
How much you mean in my heart
All I have to do is start
One letter turns into more
Things nobody's heard before
That comes deep from in my soul
A love tale that is told
On paper that turns 3d
Whenever you are with me
They are special every one
Writing until the bright sun
Starts to set into the land
Under a moonlit sky so grand
And the beauty that I see
Makes the world a harmony
Of musical bars and notes
Sentences--lyrical quotes
Exploding from my heart to yours
Every ounce of my soul pours
Into each and every letter
My life couldn't be much better

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With the Neon Lights

Danced all night, held your hand tight. The Music's playin, My Heart's beatin. The night is young and we feel so free, all these neon lights I see. Hot shots, wild moves. I look around & all things fuse. typsy with the neon lights, hugs and kisses on warm nights. & we're back to the dance floor, to feel the beat and dance some more. held hands with the person I like, He looks at me & I got psyche. This thrilling moment, of freedom and excitement. I don't regret, this night we met. Because even with the neon lights, I don't want you out of sight.

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somewhere in dreamland

a spinning world of colors,
a bright shining ball of joy,
a lost little girl..a lost little boy..
and love is a gleaming new toy,

they sit and they look upon it,
with wonder so bright in their eyes,
this feeling so new..what can they do?
it came as a sudden suprise,

and then as it lost its glimmer,
it turned into something new,
now they stay up watch and wait,
but for what they have no clue,

the world is now getting smaller,
the boy and the girl face to face,
and now as he wakes..he'll do what it takes,
to find her and that magical place...

somwhere in dreamland is a song from a cartoon i watched a long time ago.

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Circumventing the Silence

a triquint

The night so long with dreaded suspense
and pain the darkness augments.
Morning circumvents
the silence.

A mist of dew inspires common sense
dread retreats in self-defense.
Morning circumvents
the silence.

As birds break forth with triumph intense,
stirring light and breeze commence.
Morning circumvents
the silence.

"courage to change the things I can"


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Love's Concert

Clair de Lune 
such a lovely tune.
I knew that this was the piece I would play in my concert.
A perfect ending such as a delicious dessert.
My fingers floated across the piano keys.
Knowing that this song was one of Debussy's.
It made chills run up and down my spine.
And as I played I knew that this song in D flat was divine.
Played at many weddings such a beautiful song.,
By playing this how could I ever go wrong.
So this concert pianist plays the chord  
beginning andante on the keyboard.
Then playing the arpeggios so very fast.
I'm wondering if my arms and fingers will last.
Then the lovely ending comes.
And afterwards the grand piano still hums.


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Lads from Liverpool

I can remember four young boys
Who made a lot of noise
On the British and American charts
Their music will live forever in our hearts

I can remember the drumming style of Ringo Starr,
John Lennon’s psychedelic paint job car,
Paul McCartney’s songwriting ability,
And George Harrison’s guitar playing influenced me

In ways I never knew
There are days where I feel blue
Since they did not ever get back together
But their music will last forever

Their songs are nearly always heard of
From “Hey Jude” to “All You Need is Love”
They were just so cool
For four young lads from Liverpool

And even though John and George are gone
The legend of the Beatles’ music will always live on

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Musical Bliss Is Like A Kiss

Spinning into another stratosphere
Can pick up on the nuances I hear
With utter bliss I start to play and sing
My guitar vibrating on every string

Vocalizing with my heart and soul
My tune flies out to serve it's lofty goal
Stirring up the crowd with every song
I could sing and play there all night long

Now I find the music for myself
Put my worn out picks up on a shelf
When I play a favorite melody
It satisfies my soul and sets me free

Each strain gets me going-I start strumming
This voice inside bursts out into a humming
Then fully blooms as I float to the skies
The power of the tempo gives me rise

I'll sing and play guitar my whole life long
Nothing can bring the joy I feel with song
A good guitar lick has an awesome ring
I love my music more than anything!

***for "Passion Pit" contest
sponsored by Linda-Marie-The Sweetheart of PS

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Street Beat

Life has a rythm, even in confusion
Listen to the beat, feel it's profusion
Boom dity boom clankity clunk
I close my eyes, I feel the funk

Street car screeching, footsteps on ground
Pop bottle dropping, glass breaking sound
Voices rise and fall, cabbie screams out loud
Anger frustration from demonstrating crowd

Honking horns, join the symphony 
Leaves rustling, exhaust blowing on tree
Boom box beating, dancers getting down
To some song, called Monkey Town

Children giggle, running down the street
Flip flops slapping, beat beat beat
Lost in the sounds, swirling around
That's why New York, is my kinda town

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Past lives

I believe that in another life
a famous singer was what I had been
learning no voice I had gave me strife
this became apparent in my early teen

The flat out of tune caterwauling 
instead of sweet pure notes
had both me and family cringing
only my lover on me singing dotes

I shed many tears as I needed to sing
my talking voice is dulcet like honey
in despair I tried to find something
poetry fills the gap with verses lovely

Now when I walk out onto the stage
I spin words that soar out like notes
as musical tunes in stories I now wage
my voice fills the room and music floats

written 06/24/2014

contest Past Lives

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I Sing My Song For You

Strumming little whisps of air,
Beauty flying free,
Music dancing off the walls,
Strumming all six strings.

Floating off my lips a song,
Sweetly slipping through,
I love to sing my song aloud,
I sing my song for you.

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How joyous is to see
the reflection of oneself
in calm waters that slowly flow,
but like anything that was and will be
must be swallowed by death;
and unpleasant as it is, every living soul will know sorrow!

Clear lake, don't let the wind erase my image...
it must survive until this body dies in silent whisper,
to allow no person loved or unloved grieve in fear...
as this spirit flees to the highest sky, it is purified by the strongest sage!
And shouldn't my departure be glorious? It ought to be announced by conscience,
by that merit which many deserve when there shouldn't be silence!  

How powerful is to understand
a mystery that the mighty ones have defiled
with modified words to make followers tremble,
and fill their minds with untruths until they are tried
and found guilty of conspiracy even with a clean hand...
will they face the fury of the Creator for the unrest in His temple? 

Clear lake, don't let the wind erase my image,
to trouble the delightful moments of this perfect noon...
when the quite sparrows pity me more than themselves losing all courage;
and do I console them by singing like a loud croon?
Tomorrow perched on the lowest maple tree, they'll remember their friend...
someone who was too afraid of seeing his image being stolen by the unkind wind!

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(This poem was wrote as a challenge, a tribute to  Laurel and Hardy, so this was taken from  songs).

On a mountain in Virginia, Stands a lonesome pine
Just below the cabin, home of a little girl of mine,
Having the time of our lives
Far from our girlfriends and wives.

Since January, April, June or July
Snowtime, pay no time to stay,
We're going to see, we're going to see
We're going to see my home in Dixie.

I knew I'd found my paradise
Honolulu baby, where did you get those eyes?
I'm in love with you
With your eyes so blue.

You do the tango jiggle
With a Texas Tommy wiggle,
Fast his hands, his carbine hold,
It is his best friend of old.

When clouds are grey, when skies are blue,
Come rain or shine I'm happy too,
You are the ideal of my dreams,
I've loved you forever it seems.

You toldme things you never meant,
And made me think them too,
Well here's another nice mess
You've gotten me into.

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Like a hurricane

“You are like a hurricane
There's calm in your eye.
And I'm gettin' blown away
To somewhere safer
where the feeling stays.
I want to love you but
I'm getting blown away.”

It was never meant to be.
I cherished him, he adored me
but we were too alike, you see.

When it was good it was very, very good; in fact, it was downright torrid.
When it was bad it was oh so sad and we both ended up feeling horrid.

Blessed time does its thing
wounds healing, I sing
Neil Young's masterpiece near every day.
It helps me to know
that I'm loved even though
sometimes I can't have my own way

For entry into Chris's "Favorite Music Lyrics" contest
The song is Neil Young's "Like a Hurricane"

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Pipe Dream

The team of Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein displayed prowess. It seemed everything they produced would be a success. There was triumph for some Broadway shows nobody could deny. They included “Oklahoma”, “State Fair”, and “The King and I”. Two more melodious plays that were absolutely terrific were the widely-heralded musicals “Carousel” and “South Pacific”. Along came an attempt based on John Steinbeck’s novel “Sweet Thursday”. The plot was set in the California town of Monterey. “Pipe Dream” opened on Broadway in 1955. Many also expected this production to thrive. Despite receiving nine Tony Award nominations, for this musical, the critics had some reservations. Problems resulted, and the show was a financial flop. After only about seven months, they decided to close up shop. However, some renewed interest has evolved into a revival. It looks as if this show may yet experience survival. I thank online encyclopedia for information I obtained to write this poem. Robert Pettit Historical

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putting on my sunday best

spinning top
beat box
rocking body pops
stone cold spitting hot
to melt
personal imprisoning locks
shatter negative 
mental mountain rocks
with uplifting 
positive fountain thoughts
written down like
sporadic quantum physics chalk
oh my
I love the way he talks

graffiti addict
hip-hop fanatic
student of poetry magic
the type that weaves together
computer generated space fabrics
underground cult classics
eating a bowl of chex mix
handsome devil
passionate rebel
honey pie cuties blowing me a kiss
constantly catching butterfly lips

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Oh, no, That Song

Hear the hated song
Think things will go wrong
Cannot relax, on edge, scared
Expecting illness
My fate seems hopeless
Sweating like a creature snared

Play the remedy
Callas works for me
Relax, unwind, heave a sigh
Play again for luck
Lets me off the hook
Smile and wave ill luck bye bye

Jack Horne for Nette's Aloutte your Cleansing Ritual

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The Confident Woman

I refuse to sabotage my future, 
I refuse to have self-doubt
I refuse to believe that I'm useless
From the depths of darkness, God brought me out.
You see, God is the source of  where my strength lies
and small beginnings, I shall not despise.
I stand with boldness, knowing my God is real
The Confident Woman has now been revealed
Failures and uncertainty tried to hinder my path
By reminding my thoughts of my frozen laughs
But today is the day that I stand here and say
This Confident Woman is well on her way

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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

Plenty of fish in the sea, you gotta' use the right bait

Move fast, early bird gets the worm, don't be late

I'm a player, I attract all types of women

Get 'em all wet, like they're going swimmin'

Switch 'em up, more than I do my clothes

Got a different chick at all of my shows

Can't choose, there's too many to pick from

I beat that thing up like banging on a drum

Like fishes in water, I got 'em hooked

Chicks galore, schedule's filled, like a library I'm booked

We're in the bed more than hospital patients

Take my time, make sure she's satisfied, I got patience

They call me the Hulk, all I do is smash

It's a hit-and-run, not talking 'bout a car crash

Call it the thing on the side of your bed, one-night-stand

Kinda' like a hit TV show, I'm on demand

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Boy Is She The One

<                                   Betty Davis eyes
                                     Marilyn Monroe's thighs
                                     Greta Garbo's lies
                                     Elizabeth Taylor's cries
                                     Tells me this is why
                                     Is She The One
                                     Is She The One
                                     Is She The One For Me

                                    Britney Spears
                                    Miley Cyrus sneers
                                    Rihanna's fears
                                    Oh my dear
                                    One thing's clear

                                    Is She The One
                                    Is She The One
                                    Is She The One For Me

                                    Madonna's dares
                                    Cher's dairy air
                                    Heart's flare
                                    Fleetwood Mac I don't care
                                    Just wondering there
                                    Is She The One
                                    Is She The One
                                    Is She The One For Me

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What A Drag It Is

Today’s Mick Jagger’s birthday
And it must be quite a drag,
For seven-zero are the years
That he’s got in the bag.

When “Mother’s Little Helper”
Was released and made the charts,
A younger Mick, at twenty-three,
Was breaking younger hearts.

That famous lyric from the song,
While catchy and harmonic,
When issued from his youthful lips
I’m sure seemed quite ironic.

But now that many years have passed
And Mick’s an older dude,
The irony’s no longer there,
Despite his attitude.

So rock on, Mick, and celebrate
Because, if truth be told,
At seventy, you must agree,
It’s no fun getting old!

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The title comes from the word for “faithless” It also can be interpreted as false and treacherous. Mexico’s Alberto Dominguez composed the song. It has been record by a list of artists that is long. There is enormous popularity for this song in many lands. Versions have been recorded by orchestras and rock and roll bands. The song has quite a beautiful melody. You could say “Perfidia” has achieved immortality.

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In times of pain and oppression
Only the smooth melodies of the calypso beat
Eases depression
The remedy to perish your existing suppression
A fine art filled with spontaneous expression

In times of agony and stress
Music alone can fix that mess
In sadness, when we feel useless.

Demeter Edwards

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Lisa was the very first love of my youth,
even her voice had the sound of a flute;
how funny she looked with those huge, black sunglasses
matching her blue bikini...honestly I had plenty of laughs!

I surely approached like any other boy would,
trying to mentally rehearse my intent...
and finding courage took a planned incident,
which made me conquer her with an insincere word.

"Sorry for messing up your clean blanket,
the hot sand burned my feet and I got mad!"
I humbly said with the tenderest voice to win her favor...   
" No need to apologize. " she replied, touching her red hair.

And suddenly a summer steamy love began...
how delighted and how lucky I was to have gotten away so shamelessly
with my pretense, then she asked me to get off the hot sand
and sit on her blanket to listen to Cher...oh, she longed for her Sonny!

Lisa was the very first love of my youth filled with sensation;
when I open my cluttered closet, a withered carnation, 
she put in my tuxedo jacket, still evokes our last date...
the eighties were a joy to explore with her without any haste.

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It may seem crazy to be normal, go along with the flow and show no rage...
that all I seek is that moment of fame,
and though I don't criticize others, I am the only actor on this bright stage
with no one to please but my dame!

All I seek is that moment of fame to revenge friends of old might,
or should I say remorseless rivals instead?
Pull up those closed dark curtain and let in some warm sunlight...
is someone too hesitant and very afraid?

By wearing the finest Renaissance's costume tailored for an unfit lord,
I would resemble an insane Hamlet ready to engage in cold murder; 
God halt this hand from committing that crime with a sharp sword:
dungeon should my confinement upon an expeditious order!

All I seek is that moment of fame, something not hard to be earned;
see me act and applaud me for my great talent...
and if that delights you, remember the role I played
as a king whose rampant madness was his contemplated intent!

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Listen For Whats Not There -Muisque Partout-

Dancing to the music, 
The music in the night,
Find it where its hiding,
It's the music of your life.

I'ts in the way you move,
It reflects who you are,
Listen very hard,
For the music that's not there.

To the beat of our breath,
To the rhyme of our hearts,
Flowing in the sky,
And reaching for the stars.

A howl in the night,
Soft paws across the ground,
Singing with the moon,
Standing tall and proud.

This is my music,
The music is everywhere,
It shows who you really are,
And flows through the air.

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You Went Away

Another summer here alone
why you left me so cold chilled to the bone
it sinks in when i see you in stone

I walk around in a daze
forgetting the look on your face
nothing fills my heart but empty space
i showed you my darkest place

They tell me that i will be okay
but not today
I cry from the last words i heard you say

Living alone in this place
i think of you so i can escape
A place where i used to see you
Happy and breathing

but not anymore...

A place where you died in pain
It was a shame 
that you couldnt be saved

This day i will remember
because its the day that you went away

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The Sun's Rays

The sun’s devouring rays
Reveals an astounding sensation against the marvelous universe
It caresses the earth with warm hugs and gives life to the motionless gaze
Its auras are above nature’s designating exteriors
Its swaying beauty is beyond Earth’s inhabitants, deserving my praise

It treasures the sky with joyousness and forms swarms of jeering birds
The sighs of the wind attracts clamoring herds

The sun’s appalling flames
Unshackles a zealous tune that reveals the Earth’s accord
It embraces the atmosphere with remarkable claims
Unraveling my curiosity; my ears are pleading to hear more, so I go forward!

It prizes the ocean with eagerness and forms swarms of screeching seagulls 
The strength of the waves draws in scorching souls 

The sun's unattainable rays 
Motivate life to trail on till its duty is done
Its auras seep through the whirling sky and strays
Embracing ambitious love like a father and son  

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Janis Martin

Virginia produced a rockabilly pioneer named Janis. This talented artist was called the “Female Elvis”. In her youth, she displayed fine musical prowess. What a flamboyant act she displayed on stage when rockabilly music was the fifties’ rage! With her initial hit record “Will You Willyum”, Janis achieved popularity, and then some. She drew a plethora of applauses and cheers whenever personal appearances were made over the years. The spirit of Janis is now performing in heaven after she passed away in 2007. I thank online encyclopedia for information I obtained to write this poem.

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If Music Were, But Mere Dreams

If music were but, mere dreams What a bitter sorrowful waste this would be Thus shadows, and to play a note A meager reminder of a world without hope Nexus of the heart blacker than grayer Taste, loveless sapor than savor Flowers wilt and will not, then they wither die Laughter ends forthwith when only moments survive Unmoving, undefining, joyous tears unwept, and never drying Nor celebrations of song and dance relive or reviving Simple songbirds mimic miming melancholy silent Winds untheraputic cease, trees untickled lie dormant That’s why I'm grateful for musical spiritual gifts Through melodies, how Christ inspires and uplifts Yes, if music were but, mere dreams Then all of us sleepwalkers, a soul nonexistent, zombies in another reality

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The Fab Four

People talk of rock and roll
Some of Scott and the North Pole
Me I talk of real class
The Beatles no one can surpass

Just say John, Paul, George or Ringo
One mention of their name and bingo
Up I get to dance and jive
A group that make me feel alive

The talented McCartney and Lennon to
Writing songs for them and others to
Words of rock and ballads sweet
A partnership that’s hard to beat

But now they’ve gone their separate ways
And days of gloom are here to stay
Missed by all but not forgotten
It makes me feel depressed and rotten

The Fab Four will linger long
Because their music was so strong
That is sad for kids these days
Mediocre groups will come their way

Not so good but still for them
A chance to hear the odd Beatle gem
Just one record from the past
So the memory will last

So once again the great Fab Four
Will open in your mind a door
For those of us who knew them well
Maybe the Gospel we can tell

Then no rivals will there be
But no thanks to you and me
Just the Fab Four take the praise
As the hope of kids they raise

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The Greatest Song

Name of song artist: George Harrison   -   Song Title: "Isn't It A Pity."

Poem below:

The greatest song of all time
shows how all people are blind
we either can't see the forest thru the trees
or we simply don't care about anyone's needs

The greatest day we will find
is when we unfold the love in our mind
when we cure violence of all kind
we can peacefully learn to unwind

What greater deed can there be
when all people can finally see
the words sung in such a great song
It's a pity, you don't sing along

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Aura Lee

Have you ever heard the Civil War song “Aura Lee”? You may find the tune has some familiarity. Remember “Love Me Tender” by the late Elvis Presley? “Aura Lee” has the exact same melody. Somebody in modern times had the lyrics changed. The words to the song became rearranged. Never known for proper grammar was the late Mr. Presley. In good English, he should have been singing “Love Me Tenderly”.

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Cash makes the world go round, spin
Don't I look like money, that's my twin
Gettin' money, like it's going out of style
I keep throwing it up, like it's bile
Got cash all over me, like it's a rash
You better chase that paper, stack that cash

Punchline, watch out for the blow

This ain't deer season, but I got a lot of doe

I don't play sports, but somehow manage to ball

You pissed, hurry, go to the bathroom stall

You're mad, 'cause your chick's jumping on my pogo-stick?

If this was the NFL draft, she'd be my first pick

I gave her my two-sense, she brought a quarter back

Team player, certified hustler, put her name on a plaque

You're like an old car, broke, need a tune-up

Chasing paper all day, even when the moon's up

Started in the basement, took it to the attic

Bottom to top, having all this cash is problematic

Get my strap, solve problems, trigonometry

A lil' bit of paranoia, nothing's wrong with me

Oxymoron, dirty money got me looking clean

Step in the scene, record-breaker by all mean

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Table of Despair

She sits in the shadows of a place well too known at a table filled with people feeling
all alone. Staring at her empty glass the pain starts to slip away, by glass five she'll
be able to face another day.
She slides her chair away from the table of despair, and makes her way to a small town
stage she's been singing on for years. As she starts to sing her song she no longer sees
that small town bar, she's singing to a crowd of people away so very far. Her voice may
crack a little and go out from time to time but when she starts to sing her song a
strength pours out of her battered soul and for a moment she truly shines. With the music
in her ear and her mind and heart in the song she escapes from everything that ever could
go wrong. A heart with walls of steal and remorse for none but her she's destined  to walk
a lonely road which seems to be preferred. She'll awake in the morning to a face familiar
or unknown but that night you'll be sure to find her at that table feeling all alone.

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Laura Branigan

Pursuing a solo career turned out to be a great choice. Laura was gifted with a strong alto voice. From upstate New York, this fine lady came. Her prolific songwriting talent launched her to fame. We saw that overwhelming success coming true with the release of “How Am I Supposed to Live Without You”. Laura’s biggest number one hit was “Gloria”. That one lasted a long time on the charts in America. Two other song hits the public would extol, were the popular “Solitaire” and “Self Control”. For several film soundtracks, she contributed many a song. The list of acknowledgements and awards is certainly long. Unfortunately, this talented artist is not with us anymore. Laura sadly passed away back in 2004. I thank both online encyclopedia and for information I obtained to write this poem.

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In the Morning, Evening, and at Suppertime

Sugar and honey both taste sweet to me. In a melody from a past decade, that made the Hit Parade, three sisters sounded sublime. They had honey in the morning, and also in the evening; not to mention suppertime. They asked me to be their honey and love them all the time. I swore by the stars above, that I would always be their love. The song still sounds great to me.

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Imagine by John for Yoko

In the annuls of time 
A song was written
By John Lennon
In love and smitten

His Japanese girl
Had caught his eye
Was it
The Beatles demise 

The songs he wrote
Since the Beatles departed
It was 1971
And his new career started

In this year
His most famous write
A year after the Beatles
Disappeared from sight

His heart now captured
By a Japanese girl
Imagine that
His heart in a twirl

Her poetry inspired
For John to write
Her World War two horrors
Brought to light

For his inspiration
In his writing suit
Yoko Ono's book

Imagine a raindrop
Imagine the clouds dripping
Give peace a chance
Listen to John's singing

In dedication to an Ex-Beatle whose awesome track " Imagine "
                     is sung all through out the world

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I learned how to cheat,
because you always believed me
when we burned in the heat...
as I was lost in your beauty!

My smiles were lies,
gifts to cover them with cleverness,
but what is the price
a cheating man pays for his craftiness?
Nights without a woman's tenderness,
days without hearing her voice of gladness!

I took everything like a remorsless thief bound for cheats,
while another heart shared the same love you thought
was the only possession your faithful heart ever sought...
you miss all the smiles of my lies as your loneliness deepens.  

My smiles were lies of an untrue lover showing
beautiful images of deception
but you fell for them without realizing
that in them there was no affection;
and today, remembering those those moments of exstacy,
nobody can persuade you from believing in my dishonesty!

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Nature Sings

Please be quite! Pond music starts at night If you’re loud, the music will be gone The many singers are each repeating their song Yet the syncopated notes are where they belong Frogs have a musical brew that swings Listen, hear how it rings Nature Sings!
Submitted by: Charles Sides For the “Night Melody” contest Aug.20, 2012

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I love to watch birds in flight-
Wheeling and zooming in their delight,
Flying high then low, as though they knew
They were free to do whatever they wanted too.

I love to listen to birds in song,
Warbling and whistling-never did  wrong,
Just being themselves and acting so happy-
Without remembering their Mammy or Pappy.

I love to watch birds walk and strut-
Puffing out their chests and holding their heads up
As if they knew God had a perfect design for them,
A special gift of beauty and song just from Him.

God has His birds sing their songs for Him-
He makes their beauty and voices safe from sin,
He makes them so natural and free
To be themselves and show us how WE could be.

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Baldwin Piano Company

A standard piano keyboard has eighty-eight keys.
Use them all, and you can play melodies.
Whether it is classical, jazz, or contemporaries,
listening to a skilled pianist can please.
Here is a manufacturer that is known all around.
Products from the Baldwin Company make the best sound.
The instrument can be a grand or an upright.
Among their many models, you can find one that’s right.
So if you are in the market to acquire a piano,
any dealers who sell Baldwin are the ones to know.

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Vanilla White Blues

Whatever gives you the right,
sayin I can’t sing the Blues come Saturday night.

Vanilla White sho can play the Blues,
even though I ain’t walk’d a mile in yo shoes.

And jus cuz I don’t look the part,
that don’t mean I can’t sing from the heart.

Heartbreak don’t always cross traditional lines
 you’re makin me pay some heavy fines.

Jus get your weak ass outa da way,
back off junior and jus let us play.

Step off your high and mighty throne,
jus listen to me once’t, you’ll love the tone.

Don’t act like you’d be throwin me a bone,
ya know I’m not sittin here holdin the phone.

Now thats all I’m gonna say,
cuz folks just wanna hear me n’ the boys play

*Written in support of a female Blues singer I know having trouble performing in tradfitional 

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in his heart a golden chair

                                                It was a scent...but not any 
                                                    her scent filled the air ..
                                      sea breeze was jasmine of lady faire,
                                     his contessa in the wind ,,,singing him ,
                                                       dancing love ..
                                              and the feet dancing bare,
                                           on the sound of his laughter 
                                                 with the joy of her hair,
                                                 lady fire always hope 
                                              lady fire who would dare 
                       first of year was so long and the night was so young 
                                                then arrived lady faire,
                      summer eve never leave ..tinker belle who would weave 
                                   magic carpet...tinker belle who would care,
                                 lady fire who would water  waiting souls
                                            and your life she shall share
                       limitless love ..limitless mare ..charming knight to her declare ,
                             flying eagle and a raven ..may be odd but united pair
                                                  their wings are bride ,
                                      above the known seeking the rare,
                                                     my lady doth sleep ,
                                          deeply sleep in  heart of chair,
                                   as the magic calling her ...little one 
                                      very deep ..deeply sleep in my heart,
                                            in my heart  a golden chair.


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In The Mood

This talented trombone player had a swinging band. Their sound was considered among the best in the land. My lady friend and I were often cutting some rug with his hits like “String of Pearls” and “Little Brown Jug”. Many more of his songs were hitting the radio waves. In ballrooms everywhere, sweet tunes were drawing raves. Over the wireless, tragic news became the sound. Over the English Channel, his plane was downed. His great career was cut tragically short by the war. However, his recordings will live on for evermore.

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She Loves You

Fifty years ago today,
The Beatles sang a song
That started Beatlemania
And we all tagged along.

“She Loves You” was recorded
And the lads took to the stage;
In suits and shiny bowl-cut hair,
They soon became the rage.

I watch the film of screaming girls
And know just how they felt,
For when those Beatle “Whooos” were sung,
I thought my heart would melt.

Some music does that – takes us back
And, like a sleight-of-hand,
We’re instantly transported,
With the past at our command.

The years drop off and so does all
That’s happened in-between.
“She Loves You” hits the radio
And I’m again thirteen.

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Audiophile Sound Manipulates my mood From more than apathetic To less than subdued Bound Some quite prophetic Some misconstrued Sound Dancing in the waves Swimming in the sea It’s sinking in me The depth of it saves Drowned Got caught in the flow And lost sight of land Adrift, and at peace Til the music dies And the silence consumes My half-open eyes

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When He Died For You and Me-.. Were You There?

Sometimes it causes me to tremble
When I remember that country preacher
Telling the story of Jesus
Being crucified when I was little
I felt bad that He did nothing wrong.

And in college,
 I learned this song 
A Negro Spiritual
Were you there?
When singing this song 
It caused my voice teachers’
Body to tremble 
As the vibrato spinned
As the words sprang out
About the story once heard
Of how my savior died,
And how he on was lied. 

And now that I’m older
And I’ve gained knowledge
And now grown
And I’m on my own
With no one but the
 Lord to depend on

The story means more to me
Than when I was that little girl
Without a care in the world 
When that country preacher
Told it about how the nails
Pierced him far from gently
How the crown of thorns 
Was crushed blood vessels
In his head.

How he knew he had
To face the sinful world
Just like how I know
I have to face it because
God is calling me 
To assist in ministry

I want to be more like Jesus
Everyday and in every way.
It deeply convicts me
To see on movies
And to visualize in my mind
What He did at Calvary
That day at any given time
It causes me to tremble
And tears to fall.

I know in my heart 
I have no other choice 
Than to accept His call
And give my all and all
To gain victory for His people
Because He died for it 

It doesn’t matter
If you were there when he died
He just wants you
To know that He did
And all you have to do 
Is come to Him like a little kid
And he will do the rest
This is what He does best.

I hope that it causes you to tremble
Whether or not we resemble
Each other in Him we are all
Sisters and brothers
Were you there, then?
It doesn’t matter
Be here now
He died and rose on the third day
For those who were then
And now trembling in sin.

wrote 7-14-10

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No wonder why she was envied for her shiny hair
not for her agility, beauty and whim;
her name was Wilderness Flower...
how could her mother have given her such a name?

Unique and beautiful was her superb dancing,
friends made fun of her...humming, 
" Wilderness Flower, why do you hide your laugh? 
Are you impersonating someone else? "

She ignored those silly remarks,
by gently landing on her feet,
" Can you dance, not leap like foxes? "
she responded with a voice so meek.   

" Surely we can and much better than you, of course! "
They challenged with a cowardly threat,
Wilderness Flower replied, " Why do you sweat? "
They stared at her and shouted with voices too coarse,
" Prove to us how talented you are! "
" we are better trained than you by far! "
She defiantly yelled at them performing with laughter on her tongue
and would they let her get away with it, or prove her wrong?

On stage she performed for a bunch of fools
who didn't think she was the very best...
and would Wilderness Flower set them loose? "
" Why spoil it with hastiness? Let them wait and guess! "
Was her murmur that not even a soul could hear,
so why they acted so immaturely and allowed fear?

On the shining floor she intentionally slipped screaming,
" I broke my me to the emergency room,
I may not make at all and die on the way over! "
" Don't die on us, Wilderness Flower...we are sorry for our bullying!"
And pledging they cried and swore seeing their guilt loom. 
" You fanatics played with my emotions with convincing flair! "
She attacked them with loud scolding words.

" But since you admitted your foolishness, I will forgive you all,
if you let me make fun of your silliness and die a sweet death
by laughing as hard as I can! Wilderness Flower exclaimed.
 " Please do, we can accept that, but promise not to return as a mad bull! "
They all crossed their fingers as she went into deep sleep...
did she really give up her soul for some silly dancers who did more than leap?  

Entered in Natalie the Rouge Rhymer's contest, 
" Die A ' Fun ' Death Contest "

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Country Artist Rule My Heart

There's a contest I will enter
Who's topic is to center
About the artists I like best
I'll put my poem skills to the test
Rascal Flatts is one group
In the country music loop
With hit songs that top the charts
Sad or funny touch my heart
Videos that go so well
With lyrical stories they tell
Luke Bryan is cowboy hot
He is always looking smart
With his sexy jeans and looks
Just one glance and I am hooked
His voice is sweet and so mellow
It turns this girl fan to jello
Blake Shelton's another guy
Who is not exactly shy
At being sexily cool
Making this "old" woman drool
His music is perfection 
He is my daily obsession
There are other country artists
Who might not have made my top list
But also get my attention
There are too many to mention
I have to get my country fix
With different artists in the mix
Not one day will pass me by
That I don't laugh or sometimes cry
With these great artists I've written
Who will always have me smitten

For Favorite Artist Contest

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my level of insanity

tell me what is normal,
and i won't act the part,
screaming in the night,
to lift a heavy heart,
hear the song of friends,
they sing it in your ear,
telling you again,
that fear is what you fear,
so smile little heart,
and dance out in the rain,
will the awesome colors,
make you dance in vain?

make sense to you? it does to me. bwahahahaha

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Spring, flabbergast me with your scented flowers:
show me the gracious lilies and flaboyant tulips
as they spent their time brightening lovers's eyes;
yes, open up your garden where the red sun dips,
and the voluptuous lovers hug and passionately kiss...
rising in me a desire that takes me back to youthful days!

Down the rusty path, flanked by pines and fir trees,
the blue-jay parched on the lowest branch, is quite and waits;
at exactly twelve o' clock he starts warbling as a siren wails...
we have become friends, and he inspires me to write melodies,
but without a pencil and music sheet I must retain those notes into this active brain,
until I get home and write them down while he shelters himself from he misty rain.

Spring, flabbergast me with your scented flowers:
show me the stately sunflowers and the wild roses 
growing taller than any plant seen in the wind-swept wilderness
as the mariachis play their song to console a marchioness sitting in a breezy corner;
these aren't musicians found in a parade, they are peasants with colorful costumes...
soon someone will say," Alla manana, Segnora. " as the calm returns on the shore.   


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My Life's Song

I'm listening for the chorus
Of my life's song
Something familiar
To keep me strong

I'm listening for rhythm
Where I belong
Something I can dance to
All day long

I'm listening for the lyrics
To sing along
'Cause my life's a melody
Of right and wrong

So I'll follow the beat
Of my heart's gong
The resonating sound
In my life's song

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Schubert had a symphony
He didn’t quite complete,
Though the parts he finished writing,
We consider quite a feat.

David Foster Wallace
Left his novel not quite done;
Still, the accolades accorded it
Have piled up, one by one.

Many things have value
Even though they are unfinished.
An artist’s reputation means
Their worth has not diminished.

For projects may be started
But not make it to the end.
We cannot know the message
The remainders did portend.

Perhaps the final passages
Might not have satisfied;
The composer might have tossed them
And committed symphocide.

So we are left critiquing
Works abandoned halfway through.
Might they be much better finished?
We don’t really have a clue.

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Frankie Valli

Frankie Valli is the name we all came to know. He was born Francis Castellucio. Born in 1937, in Newark, New Jersey, Frankie would become a well-known music celebrity. He started his musical career in the mid-fifties. It continued well into the sixties and seventies. His groups would have many different name variations until 1960, when they became “The Four Seasons” With Tommy DeVito, Bob Gaudio, and Nick Massi, they had a big 1962 hit song with “Sherry”. “Big Girls Don’t Cry”, “Rag Doll”, “Walk Like A Man”, and “Let’s Hang On”, were joined by “Opus 17”, “Big Man in Town”, and “Dawn”. “Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You” was a hit among many, along with “My Eyes Adored You”, “December ‘63”, “Who Loves You”, “Swearin’ to God” and “Grease” that would come later. Very few other groups would have success that proved greater. As a solo performer, he puts on a fine display. His fabulous career continues right up to today. I thank online encyclopedia for information I obtained to write this poem.

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Making the Scene as a Dancing Machine

Whether it be soul, motown, or rhythm and blues; we can dance to anything we choose. We listen to hip hop, rap, and old school music. From whatever time frame, the sounds are terrific. My homies and I show how it's done right. I can think of no better way to spend a Saturday night. inspired by another member's poem

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I Just Want to See How Lovable You Are

What a sight you were dressed in gold and blue. Every good thing I’ve heard about you is true. You lived up to be everything to me on this night. You proved to everyone to be such a delight. Our guests for the party have all gone home. This bedroom is the last place we have to roam. I believe I hear Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” somewhere. The sound from the ivories seems to permeate the air. In the darkness, you shine like a star. I just want to see how lovable you are.

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Belfast Child

The streets of the Irish north
Separated by faith
Different religions
In our human race

During the troubles
Through the bullets and bombs
Sectarian violence
Engulfed in their wrongs

Soldiers and factions
In wanton maim
Left this proud country
In blood red stain

Years have passed
As the peace accord lives
No more slaughter
Where life was once sieved

Tomorrow, there after
No more feuding campaigns
For the
Belfast Child, sings again



Inspired by the Simple Minds track " Belfast Child " by an excellent Scottish Rock Group


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A precise and delicate art it is 
to learn how to capture the wind.
maneuvering it so gently through 
while guiding it where to go.
The sweet sounds that it plays
 melts your heart in every way.

cry long
Sound of madness contest

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Saturday Night

It’s another Saturday night
I’ll be dancing til the morning light
Surrounded by laughing friends
I hope this moment never ends

My body is pumping
My heart is thumping
I’m in my prime
I’m having the best time

Lights are flashing
Music is thundering
The dance floor is shaking
Feels like the Earth is quaking

Alcohol sedates my brain
Confidence is what I gain
I feel
God it’s great being ME!

I feel like Cinderella in my own story
I’m smiling, shining in all my glory
I see my Prince crossing the floor
He sees me too and makes a detour

Our bodies near
Our intentions are clear
Our lips touch
I want him so much

We start to dance
I’m in a trance
He’s holding me tight
Explode.I just might

Images distort
The love bug I’ve caught
Let this night go on forever
With my Prince and I together.

©copyright Juanita Torr

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Whether you like rock or rap
Or classical or jazz,
Music is the equalizer
Everybody has.

Often we’ve heard quoted, “Music
Soothes the savage beast.”
Listening to music helps
Emotions get released.

Opera may make you cry
And hip hop make you dance;
Show tunes make you sing along
And some inspire romance.

Salsa music makes you move
And reggae makes you jive;
Marching music, so emphatic,
Shouts, “I am alive!”

We need sunshine, food and drink
And love to help sustain us,
But music is the magic
With the power to unchain us.

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Piano Man

In Memphis, on Beale Street,
The piano man played,
A whiskey on ice at his side.
He commanded his fingers
And oh, they obeyed
And we all tagged along for the ride.

He sang what he liked
And he'd take a request
And he did a fine job at the keys.
If it were an interview,
He'd passed the test
For his voice and his playing did please.

The few of us there
Tossed some tips in his jar
And we clapped and I'm sure he felt good,
But there's one just like him
In so many a bar,
Never earning the money he should.

But he raised up our night,
Gamely playing his role
And we're lucky we walked through that door;
Yet no matter how much
He gave out of his soul,
He'll be back the next night, giving more.

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Neil Peart Plus

fish eye lenses
all the worlds a stage
we are merely pretenders

triple entendre 
RUSH to see
the Moving Pictures

cry as they go by 
taken away 
from tonight's 


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Turntable Blues

I haven’t played a record
In more years than I can say,
Yet still I mourn the record player
That we ditched today.

It sat there in the living room
Accumulating dust,
But since we’re spiffing up the place
I really must adjust.

I’ll box my records in a crate
And hide them out of sight.
I have no way to play them,
But to toss them’s just not right.

Though music’s always in my life,
I’ve said goodbye to vinyl
And now that my turntable’s gone,
That farewell feels more final.

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I loved hearing your songs about your native land. In your sweet voice, you made them sound so grand. You came a long way from humble beginnings in South Africa. Your popularity spread to both North and South America. From there, it permeated both Europe and Asia. I believe you also performed in Australia. What a delightful sound came from your “Pata Pata”. Your music sounded so beautiful. However, your life sadly was ephemeral. Fortunately, your recordings have made your voice immortal.

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What's On My Radio

For many years I've loved radio
you get such variety of a sort
BBC radio 5 live is full of life
with news discussion and live sport
Classic FM plays the classics
from Mozart, Vivaldi to J.S. Bach
then on the BBC radio 4
giving you in depth news is a fact
On the web there's internet radio
where you have so much choice
with anything from country and pop
to golden oldies, classical to any voice
So from all that what is my fav
living in UK it must be classical
listen on web to Washington W.E.T.A.
or classic FM on digital is my pal


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Sir Paul

I was a “Paul” girl, back in the day;
That’s how we defined ourselves then.
I knew that he’d love me if we’d only met,
But that seemed more an “if” than a “when.”

I never attended a concert of his –
Neither solo nor Beatles nor Wings;
Yet I’m sure I remember the lyrics and tunes
Of the bulk of the songs that he sings.

Since today is his birthday (my brother’s, as well),
I reflect on a very strange fact – 
At a recent performance by Sir Paul himself,
The arena was not fully packed.

As time marches on, many young folks don’t care
That the Beatles were practically gods;
So McCartney now plays to a non-sold-out house – 
I would never have bet on those odds!

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Take Flight

A soul with wings is one who tries
A soul with song is one who flies

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Take all the winter's sad thoughts from me,
make me feel happiness, not the sadness of snow...
be adventurous and follow me for a noon on my short journey
leading to harmony and see me sleeping underneath an emerald willow.

Does anyone dare to wake me up and ask me to dance...
while I play my flute inducing squirrels and deers into trance
as every bird gathers around to listen to a song of bright sunrise
that will echo through this valley of maples and wandering butterflies?

I wish that anyone hearing me play, would stop by a few moments
and bring me lots of gorgeous flowers they find along the solitary paths,
and instead of sleeping underneath an emerald willow, I'd rather share my joy
with all to fill their melancholic spirits with a sentiment that comes from a cheerful boy.

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The starry illumination
reflected upon the glazed Christmas snow,
which had fallen much earlier as silent children
waited with anticipation, not showing a frown;
they wished to see Santa's sleight flying low:
would he do away with this old tradition?

This was the night when angels choruses
would be heard over a land waiting for His birth;
then the shepherds saw many wonders,
now silence hushes the white, solitary fields,
and nobody is awake to be amazed by angelic visions...
why hasn't Christmas come and why do children wait?

The Starry illumination
is the same the Magi saw from their palaces,
and certain of their expectation:
they loaded their camels 
and left for Bethlehem happily; 
three gifts they brought to honor the new King,
why have all forgotten that he is born to show humility?
Hasn't he become small for us to love him with less fear?

Gathered as sheep in an October field, all children lose hope
of getting presents, tonight Santa will not come down the slope;
perhaps they were thinking of giving them to Jesus
as he peacefully lays in the small crib made of hay: 
oh, how much they would love to watch him play! 
One of them picks up a wooden drum and says,
" Follow me to the manger and sing, " The Drummer boy. " 
Jesus won't ask us for a gift...He wants us to feel His glory! " 

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They came from The South, The North and The West Coast 450,000 together for peace and music, half a million at most Richie Havens inspired all while singing his "Freedom" song Country Joe McDonald dropped "F" bombs his whole set long Carlos Santana amazed us, as he gave all and sacrificed his soul Arlo Guthrie with Woody's weed, packed his pipe and smoked a bowl Canned Heat and The Bear asked us to work together united stand Levon Helm pounded skins and sang "The Weight" with The Band Joe Cocker warned us more than once that he might sing out of tune One after the other, CSNY, Alvin Lee, Sha Na Na midnight 'til noon Janis gave a piece of her heart along with a "Ball and Chain" Jefferson Airplane sang about Alice out in the pouring rain The Fogerty's sang about where they were born and two girls one proud And for the life of me I can't figure out why The Who played to this crowd Jimi capped it off with The National Anthem and "Purple Haze" the perfect ending to four long daze of rock and roll blaze So if your travels take you to New York Up State Stop at Bethel Wood, the place where Rock History was written in Slate.
"1969, when music was grooved in vinyl and carved in Rock"
Inspired by the song "Woodstock" written by Joni Mitchel and performed by Crosby, Stills and Nash

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10'000 Mics Under the Sea

When you're
ten-thousand mics under the sea
things get, interesting.

To Mr. Mojo Risin'
the stage was island,
on another planet's horizon.
By Saturn's rings,
I am a tiger;

Bittersweet sadness,
I miss that;
The longing, the madness.
But I ask this:
Is context all that ever is?
But there is more to life than it;
*Living in Progress*,
The purpose, subaqueous.
Like waves lapping on temporal sand.
So keep an adaptable mind at hand.

This is not a dance
but motion occurs differently;
Like sheets of silk, smooth yet trippy.

Acid burn,
Liquid trance.

-Line Four references L.A. Woman by The Doors (Jim Morrison)
-Line Eight references Doctor Emmet Brown (Christopher Lloyd) from Back To The Future]

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The word " Gratitude "
is better expressed...
when said with thankfulness
and much more tenderness!

Ever grateful to God and mother
to have seen and tasted life:
through serene days without worry and strife,
even through stormy days with little sun's glare!  

See their images in me,
one holy...the other kind;
search inside these eyes of harmony:
more hidden treasures you will find! 

Feeling no gratitude is absurd,
it pulls you away from the Rock...
the One who shed all of His blood;
live by faith, not by ridiculous luck.

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Rock and Roll Royalty

I want to be a famous rock star
I want to play an electric guitar
I want to sing like Freddie Mercury
I want to be big as AC/DC

I want to grow my hair out long
I want to write a song
Just the way Lennon and McCartney did
I know I am just a kid

With a dream in my heart that will never die
But I cannot just sit by
And let my dream slip away
It is time to seize the day

A star is all I want to be
I want the whole world to know about me
And I want all those recording labels to see
That I am Rock and Roll royalty

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Blue Eys Blake

Wrote this for the biggest Blake Shelton Fan contest

With a "Hillbilly Bone" down deep inside
There is no way Blake can hide
How country that he can be
He's a little "Honey Bee"
With eyes that are bright and blue
Singing with a voice so true
Serenading wife Miranda
They cuddle on the cabana
"The More He Drinks" it gets crazy
All his thoughts become so hazy
But "On A Good Day"
Miranda's "Love Get's In The Way"
With a love that's coming true
She whispers "God Gave Me You"
A "White Christmas" there will be
As kids gather around the tree
"Night Before Christmas" being read
Kids question every line that's said
Troops are always on his mind
He writes songs so sweet and kind
Wishing them "Home" everywhere
Showing just how much he cares
A proud and loving grandson
He remembers "Granddaddy's Gun"
He takes care of with such grace
A smile shines upon his face
He is full of fun and smiles
Always wearing different styles
He's "The Baby" of his mom
She has lots of special charm
No matter how far he roams
Its "Always Time For Him To Come Home"
A cowboy with lots of class
Who says "Kiss My Country Ass"
If you don't like what he stands for
He will fight and he will claw
With his friend Toby so true
Courtesy Of The Red White And Blue

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When the Saints Come Marching In

This has to be New Orleans’ favorite song. It was made popular by the late Louis Armstrong. Although Satchmo is no longer around. we can always hear this immortal sound. The tune is beloved by fans of jazz. Bands play it with a lot of pizzazz. It possibly has the most beautiful melody with perhaps the exception of “Hello Dolly”.

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The After Effects

Inspired by the song “Use Somebody” by Kings of Leon

"You know that I could use somebody...
 You know that I could use somebody... Someone like you..."
The worst days are the ones that we let go by
That we failed to live 
The days that we should've spoken up and said something but we never did
Yet when it's all falling down now it’s important
But when I'm gone and you've gotten rid of me, there is no way to abort it.
They say that life is priceless, so just how can we afford it?
These are my recurring thoughts. The ones that ought to be naught, but they are.
The ones that slow time down and allow my mind to explore, to go far.
I won't lie and say these thoughts don't exist. 
The truth is that I'm waiting on you to free me. 
The remnants of your excellence will suffice enough to do just this.
These are the thoughts that creep up on me.
Catch me when I'm awake but consciously sleeping. I'm just elsewhere.
Trying to find the place where I belong
As I look to my left
Then to my right
I see no place neither here nor there.
Back history is suspending us. 
Not propelling but maintaining, but the undying stress of it all is conflicting and straining. 
Every time the thought occurs it gets harder to leave. 
Yet if this is the highest point, the pinnacle of sorts, of this irregular discourse, then what is there left for us to achieve?
These are the days when I know I need some help, but you won't be there
This problem has no solution, but I won't even remember; when this chair falls and I hang by this belt we will have found our conclusion.
"You know that I could use somebody...
 You know that I could use somebody... Someone like you..."

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My Musical Counterpart

Hands glaze across the crafted wood
to pluck each bronze wound string.
Reverberating sounds so good
I lift my voice and sing.

I coast my fingers down and strum;
each soulful chord rings out.
If I've no words I simply hum;
Sometimes with joy I shout!

I feel immortal as I play;
the instrument held tight.
It's beauty takes my breath away
as it gleams in the light.

This music-maker's been my friend
through many lonesome tears.
Our relationship will never end;
I've loved it for many years!

By Deb Wilson 
for contest"Sound Madness"

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Music Nowadays

Music use to be so much more
Than what it is today.
Nowadays all that you hear
Are insults and swears on replay.

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The fog thickens over the waters,
making every island vanish
into the misty sea rolling by;
but the lonely and trembling gull
stands on a skaky lamp-post, 
and his loud,distant cry
is revealed by a deep anguish
adding to an unpleasant day...

Mindless and shameless lovers,
take advantage of the pelting rain
to satisfy their urge with passionate eyes; 
these lovers came to this marine 
with the intent to cheat without concern,
not honoring their promise
to those who are eternally faithful:
isn't instant gratification a foolish game?  

The steady raindrops turn into a tempest,
causing the eere wind to whistle wildly
and as they pelt on my windshied and dance,
the music of my melody,so lively,
changes to a tune played with melancholy;
winter effects my mood so dramatically...

I look out of the driver's window twice
and the same bird sits still where he was,
I'm wondering if he waits for his mate,
to take a plunge into the water and bathe;
it's not only humans who experience loneliness:
it is seen in the wilderness as well...

Amid the fury of the relentless storm,
I'm caught between land and air, 
and does anybody feel the awesome force 
that makes us look so insignificant and small!
Our works are temporary and frail,
like the empires that were great and invincible,
they may seem perfect and beautiful,
but they will lose luster and suddenly fall
and crumble into a dust of oblivion:
only this Universe was made to last forever...

My wish for serenity is swept away
by the wind's fierce currents above,
and the frenzy waves carry it along
to follow that ship that left a while ago;
and still there's no visible sky
over the prestine, white beach
where I would lie down and sleep,
hidden away from anything and anybody...

In this treacherous month of March,
I can't lay back or be faint of heart;
somehow, with willingness and brit,
I must start being realistic
and take in consideration an unpleasant day
and make the best of it anyway... 

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Old Time Rock and Roll

Just imagine this:

Old time rock and roll
This music makes me whole
Like in the days of old
Love that  in my soul

Tom Crew loves to rock, 
To old casetts he really bops
He dances in his socks
And it's really not, a shock

Old time rock and roll
This fills Alf's body's soul
Like in the days of old
He loves that rock and roll

Bob Seger soothes my soul
With his old time rock and roll
YouTube was his greatest gold
He loves that old time rock and roll

Alvin and The Chipmunks 
rock, They're dance is the tops,
When it comes, to the gold;
They love to, rock and roll

Love that rock and roll
Old time music fills my soul
Like in the days of old
Love that rock and roll

(This idea came to me after hearing Bob Seger(Hadn't hear in a long time) again.  Went to 
YouTube and found some of his songs "Old Time Rock and Roll " being one of them. I 
wanted to put it in some kind of form so everyone could be reminded of him.)

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An Overvalued Woman

I heard all the things you five guys can do. You can turn any gray sky to blue. Turning back the hands of time is no small chore. You make the seasons change by waving your hand, and more? You can build a castle from a single grain of sand? You can make a ship sail on dry land? No pyromaniac can turn a river into a raging fire. And you can live forever if you so desire? These things are unimportant? Is that what you say? For the sake of one woman, you would give these powers away? She is an ordinary female, a mere mortal and so to be next to her, you would let your powers go? You should not worry about being next to her. She should be trying to get next to one of you men. Based on the 1969 hit song “I Can‘t Get Next to You” by the Temptations

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The Stampeders

Rich Dodson, Ronnie King, and Kim Berly hailed from the Western Canadian city of Calgary. They were in a group calling themselves “The Rebounds”. In the mid-sixties, they were creating their sounds. Three guys left the group, and what was left was a trio. The remaining boys would soon relocate to Toronto. Dodson, King, and Berly went on to fortune and fame. “The Stampeders” would be this new group’s name. They won a lot of Canadian and American hearts when “Sweet City Woman” hit the top of Billboard’s charts. The group is back together, and still around today. Watch out for them in concert. They may be coming your way. I thank online encyclopedia for the information I obtained to write this poem.

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You, lyrics Contest

“Hello, I’ve waited here for you, everlong”
Inside the deepest parts of me, I knew there was something wrong.
The call and echo whispering in the night,
My forever, I admit, I put up quite a fight. 

“You ignite the fire in my eyes”
You clear my head from all those lies,
Bringing forth the truth, so I may rest my soul,
I now know it is you that is really in control.

“The warmth of your embrace melts my frostbitten spirit
 You speak the truth and I hear it”
The fire inside is lit.
The need for understanding, silenced for a change
I use to grow tired, but then you suddenly rearranged.

“I'll never be the same, I'm caught inside the memories, the promises
are yesterdays and I belong to you.”
 I grew my wings and flew,
The rain it has cleansing power,
Your presence is my strong tower.

By: Sabina Nicole


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michael jackson

I say it was a gift from god the talent that bore your soul, it came so natural to you that from 
a young age you knew your lifes role.
you could sing so well but most of all you could dance.
 There are millions who would have loved to see you perform but never got the chance. 
your music has and will be around for many's a generation. it shouldn't be any other way as 
you worked so hard, you deserve the dedication.
However, you did have to witness some very tough times along the way.
but for those who put your life through so much distress, it will all fall back on them someday.
All because people could not understand you where just a child at heart.
 Reason being that you missed out on childhood as you had to perform music, right from the 
unfortunately for the rest of the world your life has been shortened and now you are gone, 
but one thing's for sure your legendary and music will forever live on.

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Phone Call

I picked up the phone,
To call someone I used to call home.
The music would slide through,
Filling the barrier of the empty room.

Christmas day,
Please pick up.
I know what you'd say,

The music would still carry on,
When eventually it'd all be gone.
He knew it were me,
But why wouldn't he just see?

I sat thinking for a few hours,
As my mood grew even more sour.
Music flew a loud,
As my eyes covered with these small clouds.

"Merry Christmas pumpkin head",
Thats what my Dad used to always say.
Before the five years,
When non-existent were these tears.

That was my present,
Which I found the most of, pleasant.

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Caught in a daydream

quite coherent and aware
eyes wide open 
so continue to stare
here's where the tempo picks up
and the rhythm maintains 
caught in a daydream 
pause in a refrain

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Tom Jones

This man was a laborer, and in vacuum cleaner sales. He came a long way from Pontypridd in South Wales. From humble beginnings as Thomas Jones Woodward, Tom Jones has been one of the greatest singers heard. With the early sixties British Invasion, he became an entertainment sensation. With his Edwardian billowing shirts and tight breeches on stage, among his fans, Jones has been quite the rage. Hit songs “It’s Not Unusual” and “Green Green Grass of Home” brought success. Other hits include “Delilah”, “Love Me Tonight”, and “Daughter of Darkness”. Jones once had his own television show. He became a star millions of people would know. He has always been a prominent man on the scene. His career was topped with knighthood by the Queen. Tom Jones has set a fine example in his day. His fabulous career continues up to today. Thanks to Tom Jones' website and for the information I obtained to write this poem.

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I had a long, peaceful sleep last night,
didn't attempt to take a single bite;
hurriedly, I descend the steepest stairs...
to greet the coolest friend with braids!

It's wonderful to say, " Good morning!"
to anyone you happen to meet along
the busy street or avenue,
or whoever you bump into;
it's the grooviest greeting,
that can be so pleasing!   

I've gotten back from work and taken off my black leather boots,  
so glad I made home safely listening to some sweet tunes;
surely Delilah can pick the right song for the loneliest lover,
her radio show is flooded with requests from fans near and far!

" Good morning " are the nicest words that can make somebody's day less moody;
say them aloud with the sweetness and thrill of your favorite disc jockey, 
who over the radio station waves kindly asks who is calling...
then shouldn't you hum that delightful song while you're walking?
And as you rush to your destination, shout with joy the grooviest greeting
that people are anxious to hear by starting their day with your, " Good morning! "    

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Each one of us follows a specific quest,
and there many different ones;
for me it's that passionate love which blooms
in spring when rain becomes mist.

Watching roses drip as eyes that weep restores
the memory of that forgotten sadness
brought by a faithless love known too briefly
to discover the scope of its insincerity.  

Why didn't I believe in her fickle promise?
She only gazed at those radiant stars, 
as a true one wouldn't have to compromise 
the beautiful truth not stained with lies. 

Still waiting to feel that passionate
love which blooms in spring...
happy wagtails by the petal-draped lake,
gather to make their notes ring.

Besides velvet-soft kisses that I eagerly steal
from tempting lips seeking this man's warm hand,
what else could please me more than an indulgent will 
with that passionate love which blooms in spring?

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Broken Hearted Melodies

Broken hearted melodies fill my head day and night,
I try to get them off my mind but the lyrics sound so right.

Left all alone with broken dreams, they know how to say the words I can’t find.
And with every verse that sinks my heart-my mind puts it in rewind. 

Addicted to the pain I feel, 
I repeat the music against my will.

Memorize the words that hurt the most, 
Let them carry me away like a lonesome ghost.

I’m held prisoner to these broken hearted songs,
The sadness they sing to my soul belongs.

I’ll stay here in tears ‘til the pain goes numb,
Breaking down at each chorus-whatever may come.

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Trude Herr

You were a very bright star in post-war Germany. On both films and stage, you garnered popularity. Most men did not consider you a raving beauty. However, with your pleasing plumpness, you were a cutie. What a great talent you were. You must have been proud. You had a great singing voice that was rather loud. One of your hit songs was one I can’t forget. Translated into English, you sang “I Don’t Want Chocolate”. I was sad to hear that you passed away. Trude, I wish you were still around today.

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The Final Curtain

His calloused finger tips  - caressed the stings With fire - one last time-
As he played -  the cords  of his emotions  - wh passion  - as he climbed-
A lifetime - of memories -burned brightly- that night- upon the strings-
Flames- from his soul- flew through  the coliseum- on golden wings-
The music of his life  - touched every heart-with the beauty  of its sound-
Then -  bowing to a roaring ovation-  he brought - the final  curtain down-


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Of all the gifts Nature imparts,
The best of all is love of arts;
That spark a fire in the brain
Unquenched by floods and pouring rain.
A gate to new dimensions and
Mysterious realms and magic lands
That others are not prone to see
Except through gifted artistry.
We artists are gatekeepers then,
Our keys are music, paints and pens
Which we wield until we pass
And unite with our dreams at last.

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Rock and Roll I Love It

Rock and roll, 
I love it!
Banging drums,
Loud singing,
And hums.
Gorgeous guitar solos,
Crowds jumping,
And dancing.
Singing about,
The good times,
Rocking and rolling,
Swaying long hair.
Head rocking,
Show stopping tracks.
Rock and roll,
Was claimed a fad.
But it’ll forever last.
So play that guitar,
Sing that song loud,
A great American pastime,
And I’m proud, 
To say today,
And all days.
Rock and roll,
I love it!

wrote 2-18-10

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Soul in the Horn

I lost myself inside the rhythms last night
Soul roll out these speakers
‘Cuz the boom bap blast right

Too many rappers wanna smash mics
But I cradle notepads
And travel pen strokes like nomads

Fakes just don’t have the gonads
To flow past the old raps
And re-construct the old maps

Perhaps their just scared of change
Unprepared for new age
Impaired vision can’t see the true range

It’s too strange, so much possibility
But it’s all blocked
Unless we stop the hostility

But will it ever happen?
I ask as I look to Her in reverence
Drop a sentence
And continue this petty rappin’

This is repentance, 
To all who I wronged
I long to amend, my friend
I’m with You until the end

Not a trend; this is respect over royalty
Not about power
Everything’s rooted in loyalty

So no devil can spoil these 
Never foil these philosophies
Nobody is stoppin' these

Or coppin' these in mixtapes
I’m just a mistake
A misplay on Fate
Subject to misplaced hate…

So I shake the weight
Boulder off the shoulders lifted
Breeze lift me like leaves
But I’m floatin’ on clouds, not driftin’

Off into abysses? 
Nah, listen
Ascension got me kissin’ 
These stars that glisten

And I’m wishin’ upon ‘em 
To take someone along
Autumn air to carry ‘em up
Another leaf to the song

Rock, rock on
Long-last the legend
From clock’s dawn
To moon’s yawn
This is forever heaven

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Missing Notes

I now tell you of an ancient world; 
whose very essence became unfurled. 
Allowing apathy and hate to rend and tear, 
at the souls of the beings that lived down there. 

This happened such a very long time ago, 
that my recollections of it; they come and go. 
I speak of a people much like you and I, 
full of dreams, desires and visions; eager to try. 

They started to covet what the other one had; 
and greed fueled the flames of a people gone mad. 
Soon armies fought armies, over the color of one's skin, 
and decency fled the lost, those corrupted by greed's sin. 

Love became an unwanted burden when people chased after sex, 
loose morals, lustful appetites came gleefully next. 
Abortion took innocent souls and the notes that they sang, 
and angels wept for the music lost as God's toll bells rang. 

Others boarded the train on a one-stop ride, 
at break-neck speed to the station called Suicide, 
More fell to the wielding of gun, rope and knife, 
as murder claimed, sons, daughters, husbands and wives. 

Those beings soon forgot the notes that each of them played, 
and their world grew silent as the last musician left the stage. 
All was dark until the sweet notes of our rebirth, 
for now we sing happily on this planet called Earth. 

Each person has musical notes to be played, 
some loud, some soft, but not a one can we trade. 
Every note is unique and contained in our spirit, 
and released only when someone is willing to hear it. 

One day hopefully in our future, the music will come awake, 
we'll no longer know hatred and the sadness it makes. 
There will be no missing notes, we'd have learned from our past, 
for Earth's sweet tones will be resounding clearly at last! 


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Song of the Soul

                                                           Feel the beat flow,
                                                 Listen to the violin nice and slow,
                                                  As your body sways to and fro,
                                                 The rhythm surrounds your soul.   
                                       Before you know it,The music has taken control.

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One Direction

Five guys from England have a hit song on the charts. This catchy tune has won the admiration of many hearts. Everywhere I go, I can hear the song out loud. For having a popular tune, they must be quite proud. “What Makes You Beautiful” is heard everywhere I go. It has a great melody and lyrics so many fans know. Listening to your song brings a lot of happiness. Kudos to you men for your recent success.

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Legendary Herion James Brown

James Joseph Brown is his the name
singing and entertaining was his game
hes referred to as the Godfather of Soul
but it all came to a tragic toll

he was recognized by numerous of titles
and I'm guessing he went to alot of recitals
he was called the hardest working man
and everyone was his fan

he was associated with three acts
who all worked off their backs
he was one of the best 
unfortunately he died like the rest

he died of a congestive heart failure
even though he wasn't a traitor
he's buried deep underground too bad he didn't have his crown

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With a voice like yours, you were no Beverly Sills. It was loud and booming, and gave me the chills. Gloria, I remember your little sixties ditty. It was a cute song although it wasn’t very pretty. Your record could have fit into only one category: Anybody would have considered your song a “novelty.” It was all about your little dog named “Fluffy”. Listening to the tune no doubt produced some tears. Somehow, your recording has survived all these years. The record may not have gone up too far on the charts; however, it has a following as it touched a few hearts.

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The passion in tunes of voices
The unhidden beats in tranquility
The harmony, the unity
In the sense of both sources
The striking elements
The rise in sentiments
Its time to dance
Don’t miss this chance

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Jerry Reed

Mr. Jerry Reed Hubbard was a native of Atlanta. That is the biggest city in the Peach State of Georgia. The people there were proud of their native son. A few of his songs made Country Billboard’s number one. A gold record and Grammy Award is what he got for the best-selling single “When You’re Hot, You’re Hot”. Many of his songs were funny, and I certainly laughed when I heard his “She Got the Goldmine, I Got the Shaft”. We also saw him with Burt Reynolds in the movies where he warned the Bandit about those pursuing smokeys. Jerry undoubtedly had a career that was great until he sadly passed away in 2008. I thank online encyclopedia for information I obtained to write this poem.

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Did She Find Her Keys Yet

At the end of the night, you walked her up to the door in the light. What you expected next would be a delight. You did not get that goodnight kiss. Your girl discovered there was something amiss. While you waited for a hug and a squeeze, she told you she could not find her keys. Standing there alone was certainly a drag as she searched frantically through her bag. She pulled out: Lipstick Eyebrow pencil. Nail clippers Chewing gum. Peppermint candy. Emory boards Hand lotion Nail polish Mouthwash Aspirin Cotton balls Paper clips Pens Pencils Notepads Earrings Pennies Nickels Dimes Razor blades Shoelaces Mirrors Sewing needles Spools of thread Combs Brushes Cell phones But she could not find her keys! This evening turned out to be a fright. There was nothing to do except say good night! Based on the hit song of yesteryear "She Can't Find Her Keys" by Paul Petersen

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Mike Smith

You and your band achieved great fame. However, relatively few knew you by name. With numerous hit records topping the world’s charts, your five-man group won many fans’ hearts. While you sang lead vocals and played the keyboards, your fellow band members provided sweet chords. With “Glad All Over”, “Bits n’ Pieces”, and “Can’t You See That She’s Mine”, your group produced a sound that was so fine. From London, you seemed to have conquered the world. Fans flocked no matter which flag was unfurled. With songs like “Catch Us If You Can”, and “Because”, your band garnered much well-earned applause. Yes, you were a great performer in your day. I was saddened to hear of your passing away. (former lead singer of the Dave Clark Five)

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An Inverness Merry Christmas

Hey all you poets its Christmas time again
Thoughts of writes oozing from your pens
Do you know what form you'll write
Leading up to Christmas night
I look forward to reading them, time and time again

    So here it is Merry Christmas
    All us poets having fun
    Writing forms of poetry
    As our thoughts flow and run

As we wait for Christmas eve to arrive
Kids at this time of year are so alive
As they look forward to Christmas morning
In their stocking, presents are adorning
Oh to see their faces on Christmas day

    So here it is Merry Christmas
    All us poets having fun
    Writing forms of poetry
    As our thoughts flow and run

What will your family do
When they see your poetry books on the shelves
Delivered to the bookshops, by Santa's little elves
Ah ah

Will you be writing any poems for Christmas day
Words in rhyme as you watch your children play
Looking forward to Christmas dinner
Not many of us will be any thinner
Merry Christmas to you is all i say

    So here it is Merry Christmas
    All us poets having fun
    Writing forms of poetry
    As our thoughts flow and run

My entry into Deborah Guzzi's " Holiday Songs in Poem Form " contest

Please sing to " Merry Christmas Everybody " by Slade

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The Following of the Pipes

On this cold winter night
A horror unfurls
As they leave their trenches
Under the Bagpipes skirl

It's Christmas Eve
In World War One
Over the top they leave
The killing has begun

Knee deep in mud
Barbed wire and bodies
The piper laments
Their bravery embodied

To march into battle
With their weapon of pipes
Whilst bullets and bombs
Leave the theatre in strife

Onward they march
Turning men into hero's
The battle of the Somme
Last centuries ground zero
What makes such a man
To enter a war
His weapon of music
That they follow him for

Amongst the men that fall
Others pick up their guns
When the piper falls
Their is no one

On this cold Christmas Day
The horrors have been unfurled
As one looks over the trenches
To a different world

But the very next day
In the distance you will hear
The sound of the Scottish Bagpipes
Leaving their enemy in fear

        In memory to all who fell at Christmas time, and especially to the pipers
who used music as their weapon, we will remember them, as all will be remembered

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Assassin's Regime

Clouded vision as I wake up early morning. Just before dawn, so the neighbor's still snoring. Got 2 messages from my boss sounding ticked. So, I got up, took a shower, made my self some breakfast. Gave my sweetiepie a kiss and I walked around the corner. hopped into the whip and headed straight to headquarters. Walked into my office, see a folder on my desk. I sit down with a sigh thinking "what the heck is this?" Open it up and I see a name list. Entry one, to my surprise, was a that I'd missed. Now I'm thinking to myself "how heck did he live?" I slipped him with some poison, no devoe or bell biv. My Boss storms in, face pinker than a benadryl. I understood why, Because I'm never known to miss a kill. Says he doesn't want to see my face until he's dead. And swears to God that if I mess that he's gonna have my head. Now I'm wondering as i walk away. The person that I must kill today. The last we met, it was a heck of a fight and without that poison dart, he would've taken my life. Hopped onto a jet and headed for Tokyo. At the hotel, I rolled up some Mary Joe. Choosing my artillary to get the job done. 50+ weapons. Gotta choose the right one. No longer buisness but a personal ordeal. Loading up my guns. It's about to get real. Throw my jacket on and I walked out the door. Made a bee-line to his house. I'm bout to settle the score. Check my watch, it says half past 10. Cut the powerline and it's time to begin. I rush through the house looking for him, guns blazin'. Killed the maid in the kitchen that was wrikled like a raisin. Killed the butler in his penguin suit. Zero witnesses. That's why I had to shoot. 15 bodies not a single one him. Plus I'm on the last room, so things are looking grim. Open up the study and I see him in a chair. Skimming through a book while smoking on a square. Too calm like he knew I was coming.  Tells me "Howdy do. And  this book is so stunning. It's a novel you should take a look at." I tell him "stand up sucka and cut all the crap. Remember Moscow and my little poison dart? You should've never lived. Time to die you old fart!" But instead of  fear, I see a smile on his face. This is where he's gonna perish, so it's rather out of place. He lets out a laugh and he tells me "tsk tsk. Coming at me with a gun is a very high risk." I holster my gun and charge toward the man. He pulls out a strap and I slap it out his hand. Hit him with a right knee, stuck him with a left bow. Gave a roundhouse then he fell to the floor. Kicked him in the side to insure he stays down. Somehow I missed and ended up on the ground. He got on top of me and hit me with a left and right. I had to hurry up because I'm seeing sunlight. So I head-butted him and stumbled to my feet. Hit him with a two-piece, knocked him back into his seat. I pull my nine out then I aim it at his temple. I'm thinking that i finally got him. Bout to pop him like a pimple. I asked "any last words before death, bro?" He says "nothing at the moment, but say hi to Mom though." I tell him surely will and enjoy the afterlife. I start to squeeze the trigger and I tell him "good night." Pop... And my brother's no more. 6 in the morning and i'm finally  out the door. Called the boss up, told him that the job's done. he tells me "head home and you did good, son. Take some days off and take a couple shots of sauce. And one last thing; I am sorry for your loss. And so ends the regime of this young assassin. back to it again after some days of relaxing.

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In the Passenger Seat

Not all music soothes the soul;
I find some downright grating.
At times like those, a wish for silence
Isn’t overstating.

I’m really not a fan of rap
And opera’s not my lingo, 
But rock or blues or classical
And certain jazz – well, bingo!

Yet even in my chosen genre,
Some songs I can’t take
And when my husband drives,
The music choice is his to make.

And so I often fall asleep
To music that’s a bore;
The savage beast within me
Just can’t take it anymore.

The easiest solution,
Which will help my spirits thrive,
Is to commandeer the radio – 
But then I have to drive!

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My Wisdom

My wisdom is useful,
for this and for that,
or is it I'm familiar,
with my common sense,
and pay attention,
to the world around me,
cause its were I live,
I'm down to earth, 
I'm telling the truth,
Life doesn't have to hurt,
But the only problem,
I seem to have is,
Feeling the loneliness,
Of not being able to have,
That other part of my life,
I happen to dream about,
Maybe its just that,
I only want you so bad,
Due to the fact that i,
Can't have something back.

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It's Been A Year (Since He Left)

It’s been a year since he left
But all of the memories of you 
I definitely kept.
I remember I was stuck to
To the television
And the computer
Watching on-going footage
I truly paid and continue to pay homage
To the King of Pop
With hits that go on
Non- stop.

If you wanna be starting
Something with me
Or any member of my family
Just play any of his songs
And a party is on.
The way his music makes me
Feel is grand.

I always wanted to
Be like him and take
A stand for a change
In the community
By starting with the
Man in the mirror
And be like him
In some way make history
Because we are the world
And the children of God
We should stick and 
Work together like peas
In a pod.

I often feel the pain that he felt
When he decided to stand alone
To do his work but he reminded 
Us that we are not alone,
That he is with us always,
And to leave him alone,
During the media madness,
That caused he and me sadness
In the doggin-him days.

I really miss the King of Pop
My love for him hits on
In my heart non-stop
Although God turned off
His fleshly clock a year ago
He is still to me a world hero.

wrote 6-25-10

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There is a city in the clouds,
Hidden behind emerald eyes,
Where my heart sleeps still,
Amidst the peaceful skies,
And the door that I entered, 
I entered with a glance,
And it closed just as quickly,
And I had lost my chance,
To leave those eyes,
Those lips that met my own,
For peace can become a curse,
If you can never call it home,
And though she has left me,
My heart is never free,
Whether I held her one night or one day,
I am hers for an eternity
Her voice was but a whisper,
But was still music to these ears,
One sound from those lips,
Can bring a man to tears,
For a whisper becomes symphony,
Like boys become men,
Words break into a thousand pieces,
When played in my heart again,
And when the time comes,
When that music fades away,
I’ll disappear with it,
Just as night becomes day,
For the sun will set on me,
As for another it may rise,
For my time here is done,
When I no longer gaze into her eyes.

What Is time but a guide,
A hand in the night,
Through the darkness at my side,
Though I knew not wrong or right,
Could I alter my direction,
Or was my path always the same,
Offering my will no insurrection,
But at the same time freeing me of blame,
For where there is no choice,
Surely no evil can there be,
Only slaves to our roles without a voice,
Victims of fate and destiny,
Yet since I cannot see,
This illusion I have given a name,
It makes me believe free will does not escape me,
Though I might be convinced my destination is the same,
So do good and evil remain,
Simply because this illusion is my own,
Are they all that keeps me sane,
In this darkness I call home,
Yet that is for each man to decide,
Though he might know what his future will bring,
As time leads him through the night,
In his illusion only he may decide who is king

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Music Of The Spheres

The soft music rose gradually
Like smoke from a freshly doused fire.
I listened to it intently
And my inner voice enquired,
Where is the source of this music? 
I’m positive I am alone
And doubt if it’s some sort of trick
Played on me by some asinine drone;
Couldn’t be, it’s absolutely
Heavenly sounding to my ears
With its timbre simplicity.
It must be music of the spheres
Inaudible except for me,
the wind and the eternal sea.

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Musician recognition


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the butterflies beat their wings
as soon as i began to sing

even when i was done
i couldn’t say that it was fun

my face turned crimson red
there was a pounding in my head

the notes i’d hit went all wrong
i told her i couldn’t sing the song

my voice had wavered on the note
i sang louder to stay afloat

the teacher stood to say who
at that moment i knew

who he was about to call
who would rise above them all

alas it was not me
her name was katie

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Alice's Restaurant

It wouldn’t be Thanksgiving,
Despite the turkey meal,
If I missed Arlo Guthrie’s song,
My husband at the wheel.

For every year, Thanksgiving Day,
As it approaches noon,
We find the FM station
That’s all set to play that tune.

It’s part of our tradition
As we take our turkey jaunt
To join with Arlo as he sings
About that restaurant.

The words are mostly spoken
And it’s twenty minutes long,
But it’s a way to join my past
And present, with a song.

For flashing to the 60’s
In the way that that song does,
Reminds me of those days gone by
And life the way it was.

If someone said one day I’d sing
With my kids ‘bout the draft,
It would have sounded crazy
And I’m sure I would have laughed.

On Turkey Day, we did just that,
Our voices at full blast;
And I thank Arlo Guthrie
For that linkage to my past.

(for Paula Swanson's "Traditions" contest)

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Legend Beautiful

Legend beautiful
The rain is falling down
Making mud on the ground
The birds the only sound
In the trees

Legend beautiful
Do not feel blue
You know that you
Are the only one who
Can bring me to my knees

Legend beautiful
We can catch a shooting star
Ride it all the way to mars
Its not that far
And Ill bask in all that you are
Legend beautiful

                                       Written by author Joseph Adam Burchett  2/3/12

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The Fifties

The Fifties...Music

The music of the fifties…well what can I say…
Was heaven on earth as compared with today,
Romantic and lovely with words of the soul…
With poems set to music to advise or console.

Mid-fifties especially produced many songs
That live in my heart all these years and belong
Forever to remember no matter how old…
The songs of mid-fifties hold memories untold.

Too many to mention, but I am partial to one…
The song played at our wedding…was never outdone…
The Platter’s top hit, “Only You,” touched our hearts…
Words held through the years…here’s how it starts.

      “Only you can make this world seem right
       Only you can make the darkness bright
       Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do
       And fill my heart with love for only you
       Only you can make this change in me
       For it's true, you are my destiny
       When you hold my hand I understand the magic that you do
       You're my dream come true, my one and only you….”

Romantic and lovely with words of the soul…
Those poems set to music to advise or console,
Were heaven on earth as compared with today...
The music of the fifties…well what can I say…

But, here are some more songs that then made my day!
If you too remember, please respond right away!

      Memories Are Made of This ~ Dean Martin
            Great Pretender ~ The Platters
                  Rock and Roll Waltz ~ Kay Starr
      Heartbreak Hotel ~ Elvis Presley
            A Tear Fell ~ Theresa Brewer
                  I Walk the Line ~ Johnny Cash
      The Wayward Wind ~ Gogi Grant
            Ivory Tower ~ Cathy Carr
                  On the Street Where You Live ~ Vic Damone
      Allegany Moon ~ Patti Page
            Tonight You Belong To Me ~ Patience and Prudence
                  Love Me Tender ~ Elvis Presley
      True Love ~ Bing Crosby and Grace Kelly
            In the Still of the Night ~ The Five Satins
                  Goodnight My Love ~ Jesse Belvins
The music of the fifties…well what can I say…

Contest: Decades
Sponsor: Kelly Deschler

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A city with the tallest skyscrapers,
many languages spoken by friendly faces,
bridges that are wonders connecting the five boroughs,
and amidst art and folklore, there's always a clown with hysterical laughs.

The mighty towers were suddenly brought down by
a hatred too gruesome to remind all of lost lives; 
they were the Motherland's pride: the two jewels of master minds,
the new ones, much prettier, are quickly rising up against the same sky.

Do I feel safe? I definitely do with the beautiful Lady Liberty
holding up the bright torch and needless to say how brave she is,
more than a sentinel who loves her immigrants who assimilate her ways
that they desperately seek in the name of freedom and equality.   

A city founded by courageous men escaping religious persecutions by waterways,
even God blessed her for keeping her faith and made her great up to our days;
it's proper to say that this is the world capital for technology, art and trade...
so it's easy to guess where I am living now...the city where fortunes are made. 

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From a tower ,
a real flower...
falls to me 
producing power,
In that place ,recalling face 
nectar to taste ,to me replace
the days of sour,

to share the days,
with summer breeze..kissing the face...
first of June ..
the pain release,

filling the room
with loving shower,

waiting the groom ..
as  bride ..
watching the years..
 trying to zoom..
make it an hour

 full bloom ....
no more gloom ..your lilly
my blossom...

our love
an over whole made by loom
dress of our
slumber's songs..
filling the zone..
no more boredom

this is the boulder
that is the doom
no more blubber
..our songs cascades' boom
Above a tower ..
my dress a red flower

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A 2nd poem about Roger Williams

When you were born, you were destined to have a future that was very bright.
You were a fantastic pianist and I've been listening to your records every night.
People have been very sad since you passed away.
I bought over twenty of your albums on Ebay.

You recorded over a hundred albums during your career.
Your music has brought joy to millions over the years.
When you died last year, your music had to cease.
You were one of the best, may you rest in peace.

(Dedicated to Roger Williams who passed away October 8, 2011.)

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Realistic Symphony

Realistic Symphony Perfection by these standards a myth Having everything you want A woman, her eighth, and fifth Fractions multiplying width Carry all your weight on front Still, the callendar catches cloud nine To pay the high Price Or a similar currency Converting yesterday to tomorrow Put the future on ice To melt the past currently Don't owe something that you know is hollow Make yourself a world of good Built on a foundation of wisdom Take your time in choosing wood Wrong kinds make the termites come But if you stumble upon decay Let the rotten rooms crumble away Build a wall with a song, and a window So you can see where you used to be Sing yourself a strong crescendo In a realistic symphony The song is long, and hard, but worth it Everyone's flawed, but everyone's perfect

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Praise God, the Father

Praise God, the Father I’ll praise God for His goodness, As long as I have breath. I’ll praise Him for His works of wonder, His perfect creation of this earth. Our God is a tender and merciful Father; His children take comfort in His service. There are so many reasons to praise Him— All our praise, He does cherish! Praise is a part of worship And in song, Him we do praise. This praise lifts our spirits, All darkness to erase. It delights the Father’s heart To hear each praise of melody. His angelic hosts in heaven, Sing along in harmony. Let’s praise God the Father For all that He has done. Sacrificed His only Son; Our eternity to be won. He’s given us the opportunity Upon His goodness to call. He provides comfort when in pain, Our healing to install. Praise God the Father; It’s our praise that gives Him joy. With music sweeter than any bird, Our praise always employ. Praise our one and only Creator; The Master and Savior of all. Even for our praise, On His graciousness we call. Copyright © Maureen LeFanue 2012

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A breath is drawn, as morning dawns
the flute, to lips, does rise
mellow notes echo ‘round
as sunlight streaks the skies

Night shadows fade, dim canyon walls
glow purple, red and pink
dulcet tones cascading
for thirsty souls to drink

Daybreaks first blush, a dewy kiss
arouse a sleepy world
harmony meets horizon
the sunrise has unfurled

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Cesaria Sings

Cesaria sings
And takes me away
From the gloom
And grey
Of Glasgow
To a world
Of colour and play

Takes me high 
Over endess rows of tenements
Empty bottles of 20/20
And queues for Greggs
That snake round street corners

Within seconds
I'm in a far better place
Sun beating down on my shoulders
As that soothing voice 
Tells a story 
That can change with every play

A song of loss?
Of pain, vengeance or joy?
It's left to the imagination
With those mysterious words
A never-ending toy

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Concert in Central Park 1200th poem

New York welcomed back its favorite sons. Paul and Arthur sang all their number ones. Over a million people were happy as a lark at that outdoor concert in Central Park. There was plenty of traffic in Manhattan that day. This duo’s fans were making their way on foot, by bus, and the subway. When the sun went down, and the stars came out, there was magic in the air without a doubt. We were so happy to see the reuniting of this pair. They sang some wonderful songs in the night air.

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Speaking on this feeling that I have
Don't make me laugh
High on energy that I mustn't surpass
Full of gas
I kinda want her
She kinda wants me
But unfortunately we will never be
Kinda making right
Kinda maybe right
Just making light
Of the situation which we're placed in,life
Harder to appear
Hard to disappear
This my fear
Forever leaving placement onto you my dear
Keeping marks reprised
Highly advertised
I advise
All to pay attention to these words,they're wise
Kryptonite my rubbish
Bugging in the public 
Isolated dubness 
Intellect, I respect
I reject and maybe I'll protect
But k.m.ron
K. M. R-son
I don't like your mom
Maybe just let our spirits live on
Through the lyrics that you hear in my songs

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Let the Music Play On - Violin

"Agnes, you played like an angel,
pitch perfect as a ringing bell."

"I'll bequeath mine to you dear,
no need to thank or shed a tear.

"I feel blessed to share this with you.
dawning enlightenment so true."

"Practice and it will start to flow,
making you a virtuoso."

"Think 'bow' extension of your arm,
make it your veritable charm."

"With the right tutor you shall bloom."
"Now, listen while I play this tune."

"Octaves lowering and ascending,
let them float through senses blending."

"Elevates to musical place,
 expresses clearly on your face".

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" Like a bridge over troubled water, I will lay me down. "
These lyrics I sing over and over as my favorite song; 
I remember it well, because it suddenly revives
the voice of mother which asked for my sacrifice,
to help her when dad left home never to return...
O father, you hurt the pride of your only son! 
How could I not have been effected by the wrong
that you deliberately caused her without resentment and scorn...
wasting all for an unworthy mistress with mundane flare and lustful eyes?
O father, your infatuation turned into greed and madness,
not reminiscing the laughs of those who loved you when your heart was blessed!
The 45 vinyl record slowly spins as Simon & Garfunkel sing it with resonant voices...
and it makes me cry, but happy to have been lifted-up by their inspiring words!

" Bridge Over Troubled Water "
by Simon & Garfunkel

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She wears only a light robe
and doesn't complains it's cold;
may I introduce her to you guys:
her name is crazy Josephine...
she drinks alchool and uses morphine...
what a shame: she a grandmother and tells lies!

Fatter than a cow, she eats cookies
dunked in carnation milk...and laughs as a freak,
or a drag queen showing her silver teeth;
that makes me think: did she ever take down those bullies!

I talked to her and told her to get off that staff immediately,
it doesn't work for her depression and loneliness...
will she heed, or continue doing harm to her body? 
At forty two, she should think of a better existence!  

Let me tell you about the weird personality of Josephine:
she can't cook or make coffee...she only cleans and sings
while Hannessy make her face red and she begins to dance
whispering, " Hi, sweety...hand me some of that ovaltine!"

Mad, mad Josephine, don't seduce me with your flamboyant charm,
I couldn't  lie in bed with you, not even for a moment and whisper romantic words;
it would definetely kill any sexual desire even when the room is calm...
please go somewhere else, and find a boyfriend who won't close his eyes and arms.

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Music Is Food To My Soul

Music is more than a passion I enjoy,
It is food to my very soul!
From the time I was a little boy,
It helped me maintain self-control.

Music kickstarts several passions inside me.
I love to sing and dance to a groovy melody.
R & B makes me wanna indulge in a steamy romance.
Hip-hop makes me wanna grab my girl and dance!

I can feel the beat, the bass booming from the speakers.
Like an athelete, I can show you some moves in these sneakers!
I can salsa, two-step or even break dance!
Music makes me smile and puts me in a trance.

My music must be played loud at all times.
The sounds put me in the mood to write some rhymes!
Some lyrical content inspires my writing hand.
Music was heaven sent almost like a direct command!

I wonder without music where I'd be.
I enjoy ballads and even rock and roll.
But as long as I got a melody,
Then it's food to my soul....

Wrote for Linda-Marie's contest "Passion Pit"

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pluck the gentilities
got sined sensiblities
a quiet cacophony
rhythms at timing
resemblin' the melody
on repertoire
schwaaaa - aaaah 
hear the sizzle of cymbals
the soul of her body
her sippin' hot toddy
- damn that jazz!

sheets o' music flyin'
mouth harp a cryin'
chords hit the floor diein'
to move a'wrigglin' rear
fade to bridge - then reappear
- now that's jazzin'

© Goode Guy 2013-04-17

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Moon Over Miami

The lights of Little Havana glowed
And in the cantinas tequila flowed
Wisps of starlight filled the sky
As the moon over Miami drew nigh
The senorita dipped and swayed
All over the streets the music played
In a joyous frenzy her lover danced
And the lady fell deeply entranced

They kissed and moved to a Latin beat
As the notes rose in the Miami heat
Then the distant moon grew big and bright
Soon covering that Miami night

They fell in love as they twirled and turned
And all the while their passion burned
The moon over Miami shivered
As their lovers' quest was soon delivered

* for Deborah Guzzi's contest "Harvest Moon"

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Night Music

That Mozart! Music is such an art. That’s another musical caper. I trace all the notes he has written on paper. He composes music like a window draper. Those notes and bars all sound terrific. Wolfgang has done the trick. Night music. Robert Pettit For Nette's Night Melody contest August 21, 2012

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This same song I’ve listened to 72 x 72 times and for some reason I feel different every time I listen to it. Same beat, same hi hat, same song. Although I’m like the waves in the ocean this song controls my emotions .For the life of me I can’t figure out why this melody mellows me,how these verses bring me virtue, why this chorus corrects me, and why the bridge besets me.If I knew this song would have this effect I would have still pressed select for this song tells the story of my life how even though I’m not good enough god thinks I’m just right, why every time I cry there’s someone beside me how 
even though I upset him he still accepts me. 
The song has got the best of me so, on I listen 
till I find a new muse. That will make me understand when I’m confused, to take away the pain when i've been bruised, or to simply listen to when I cruise.

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Good Vibrations

Ninety hours in the recording studio is a long time. You just could not decide on the perfect melody and rhyme. Well, that period of time is a little too long. However, it was worth it when we heard the song. Success was something we could not deny. Up the Billboard Singles charts it would fly. We heard it played by disc jockeys coast to coast. Fans in foreign countries considered it the most. We can still hear it today although the group disbanded. Nothing less than number one on the charts was demanded. The song aimed for the stars and hasn’t yet landed.

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Tell It To The Beatles


“Yesterday,” the Beatles crooned,
“All my troubles seemed so far away.”
And tho’ well-sung and better tuned
I’d no idea what they meant to say.

I was callow youth, barest green
And they were brains to the Stones balls.
I’d not yet seen what they had seen
I had barely lived, not lived at all.

My life was all tomorrows
And what would happen next.
I had no time for sorrows,
And finances had me forever vexed.

“Love was such an easy game to play,”
Was the only part that stuck in my head
Looking back now I’ve got to say
I was not thinking with my head.

Why she had to go, she wouldn’t say
But it is real, not a catchy pop song
Now I need a place to hide away
Until I can figure out where it went wrong.

The Beatles sang, they sang to you and me
They sang and they had something to say
There is a shadow hanging over me
And I believe ….. in yesterday.

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Old familiar Strings

Today I hear the songs
That I used to play
An old sweet melody 
That I keep here to stay
In every note and in every rhyme
It’s like a favorite song of mine
Old familiar strings
That sound everywhere,
And it feels so deeply 
In my heart and in my soul

Sponsor	Brian Strand
Contest Name	TWO TO TWELVE any form/any theme max of 12 lines

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An adorable child He was waiting to be crowned king,
never slept until He met the Magi traveling from the East; 
much joy He felt as the happy shepherd boy played his drum,
and in that box stored in the attic...He has been forgotten for too long!

Light couldn't shine on the dusty box where Jesus lay: too silent and sad; 
it must been ten years or more since He was gently pulled up from His head,
to be laid in a small cradle of a shining manger between old Joseph and young Mary...
wasn't He glad to greet everyone on a night when palm trees waved in serenity? 

Was Jesus' wish to remain a king who never grew? Who made Him a deity?
Wasn't His mission far greater than compassion to redeem the lost humanity?
In a hurry, He must be taken out of the box and reign in His eternal kingdom,
which angels have guarded since the beginning of creation as God foresaw.

Don't think of Jesus as a king who never grew: he lived, died and was risen from death;
hold him and stop His shivering...he has been hidden in the dark and neglected!
Let light illuminate and warm up His cold face and let all rejoice He came to visit us!
Was He a king who never grew? Wasn't he destined to be the glorious Christ?     

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The Music Of The Spheres

When sunrise spreads its beauty
across the waking sky,
morning melodies I hear,
like celestial music in my ear. 

God must have an orchestra,
He sends to earth each day.
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
His band of angels play.

Listen to the sounds on earth.
It's His Glory that we hear.
Listen to all earth sing,
the music of the spheres.

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My Great Escape

Sittin' here, feelin' uneasy
Not at all sleepy
Sweet sounds of Norah Jones
Tickle my ear drums
I find refuge in the blues
This is not NEWS
to the people who love me
If this is a crime
Please, do cuff me

One Rhythm, One Rhyme
preps me for the climb
to the top of the world
Where I will find
Happiness in a swirl
of chocolate on the mind

Rhythm & Blues, Rock N' Roll
Stirred up in a big bowl
The recipe for the perfect Led Zeppelin
add Hip-Hop, Metal, and all the fixin’s
Then you have Linkin Park
Just Crawling, not quite Crawling in the Dark
I laugh, I love, I listen
To the bands that make me glisten

For dessert
Happiness in a swirl of 
Chocolate on the mind
One Rhythm, One Rhyme

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April Stevens

In Niagara Falls was born Carol LoTempio. Her new name “April Stevens” was the one we would know. She has a sweet and sultry voice that sounds keen. April first sang at the age of fifteen. With the recording “I’m In Love Again", her career had begun. This Cole Porter song was a hit in 1951. April’s next record “Teach Me Tiger” had a bit of a rough go. Many stations refused to play it on the radio. In 1963, she joined her brother Nino Tempo. “Deep Purple” became a hit everybody would know. That was a song that went all the way to number one. “Whispering” proved that their careers were not done. They hit the charts one more time with “All Strung Out”. That was another hit song without any doubt. This brother and sister act gained great popularity. Nino and April still perform today. They are a must see. I thank both online encyclopedia and Nino Tempo's official website for information I obtained to write this poem.

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John Denver

America never interested me
Till my eyes were opened to see
The lyrics and music of a bright star
John Denver came from America so far

I first heard his music on a live TV show
Then knew to a music store I had to go
To pick up an album or maybe two
Something to listen to all the night through

To hear him sing rocky mountain high
It made me feel like I wanted to fly
Out to Colorado to the Rocky Mountains
To watch the eagles fly and go near insane

To see the wild horse's running around free
Try to be a country boy just like he
To lay for a while on grandma’s feather bed
Through the deep oceans by him I’d be led

I was really so sad when he passed away
Yet grateful I still listen to his music today
He inspired by words and music so true
To look after the world and the animals too

So rest in peace John may it please all to know
I take your words of love were ever I go
I thank god for giving us you for a while
Giving us music to make us laugh and smile  

For Competition

What Songwriter or writers inspire you
John Denver

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Autumn Day

I heard them shouting from the other room
I watched as the bitterness starts to bloom
and I can't wait to finally leave soon
the TV screen told it was my last day.

These tears that I've cried won't stop the rain
but it will open away all this hidden pain.
I've already been told to kill myself on the inside,
because its about conforming in and the outside.

And I still watch the ceiling crumbling.
I can't seem to walk without tumbling.
I already can't wait to leave soon.
Its already said on the news it's my last day.

I leave it myself to believe
the muse I love is out to retrieve.
My heart before its last beat
to save me bore their mission is complete.

Save me, save me.

I see you on the other side of the street.
Calling my name, wanting to meet
so I don't have to leave soon
you're the muse that saved me on this autumn day.

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My first movement is belief in all things possible
My second is distrust, all is fallible
And it is glory
A hero's story
And I dance in my third like chaos, like nature
Life is not what it is, it is that which is not sure
And it is made
And I unmade
My forth is my epitaph, not to death but to love
In breath and in being, like black wings on a dove
And it is celestial
Both rest and trail
And complete, I stand before nothing and all
And imperfect, I kneel before myself and call,
"By heaven, why sand?
This eternity demand!"

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My Birthday Dance

In leathers and silks
Before me she stands
With her short dark hair
In delightful strands

As a birthday treat
She declares to striptease
Our passion will follow
For our wants to please

Her hips start to sway
As her torso gyrates
Her breasts in sync dance
To excite her soul mate

Hands behind her head
In sultry pose she looks
The enjoyment of her moves
She's doing it by the book

The leathers she is wearing
Entice her hands to touch
Revealing her pert shaped breasts
My want to caress them much

Slowly she moves to her music
Her rhythmic motions pour
Now sliding down her underwear
Falling gracefully to the floor

Naked apart from her silks
That cover her arms and legs
Her man now panting and wanting
On his knee's he soon will beg

Her hands begin to wander
To touch the woman in her
My heart begins to rev
She can hear my engine purr

The tempo in her actions
Excites the man in me
What a birthday present
My darling has done for me

She starts to dance real closer
Her hands undress me so
We both now stand there naked
The desire of each other grows

We start with a kiss
Like rose petals in the breeze
Lightly caressing and touching
As we collapse to our knee's

The floor becomes our temple
As our bodies sensuously mix
The images as we make love
My birthday dance in pix


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The Dream

Slowly dancing to a song in my head,
I smile and I laugh as the music notes spread.

They beg me to follow as they swirl all around,
And I can’t help but listen-I’m addicted to their sound.

As they dance me away to some imaginary place,
Where the song still plays on as the music notes race.

And I dance and I spin to the song that I love,
Til the music notes fade and the dream is rid of.

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The Conductor

                                                 Tap tap goes the baton
                                          Above all others he stands upon

                                              Silence, we hold our gaze
                                       Anxious we wait as the curtains raise

                                           Lift of a hand, ready on stage
                                     An aria begins to flow right off the page

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Sweet Soul Music

The late Lou Rawls proved he could sing with his great big hit “Love is a Hurting Thing” Another great soul hit I recall was performed by Joe Tex titled “Skinny Legs and All” A dynamic duo was Sam and Dave. “Hold On, I’m Coming” was drawing the rave. Two songs that went up Billboard’s charts far, were “War” and “Twenty-five Miles” by Edwin Starr. One more song I found quite sublime was the late Billy Stewart’s hit “Summertime”. The late James Brown could produce a great sound. Everybody was jumping when “The Godfather” was in town. I know there are some other goodies I have missed. Great soul artists are just too numerous to list.

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A Music Note

I saw a music note on the sidewalk 
whispering like a Muse with chalk,

The rhythm a backdrop of the dance 
coaxing a seductive romance;

I saw a song and began to sing 
I knew I found my symphony,

Whispering softly in my ear 
destroying any trace of fear;

"Paint the walkway and share a song 
watch the others hum along,

Take that music note to the streets!
Spread the words! You are the heartbeat!"

I saw a music note on the sidewalk
I slowy kissed my Muse with chalk.

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The Poet's Song

A poem is a song that our souls need to sing
Written to the music our emotions bring
The meloncholy tune that our spirit dreads
Cause the words to sing that's inside our heads

Through the poet's quill a poem finds its voice
His paper made a stage for it doesn't have a choice
The poet, just an instrument for the songs to play
His muse writes the words, telling the poet what to say

The poet finds the rhythm through the beat of his heart
While doing his best to perfect his art
The letters all audition while the music is made
Praying to be the star when the song is played

As the meloncholy tune starts to slowly die
The poet knows the ending is now drawing nigh
He lays down his quill that he's held so long
The poet's finally finished with his poet's song

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Nero's Rome

Nero’s Rome

My life died when my love lied
Like a snake in the grass
And just like a Garden of Eden
She ate the fruit forbidden

It chewed me to the core
It left me wanting more

Everything’s too bright in a shell without a light
Like a heart of one-way glass
I saw myself when seeing you
You saw me, but others too

I was a vampire before your mirror
Night came, I became white and disappeared

Everywhere I went was ground zero
In a town I used to love, now hate
My songs like bombs burn and break
Biting, screaming, scratching Nero
I will be the anti-hero
My fiddle and I fornicate

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Music is my bliss, happy, alone in my room
I hear the drumbeat, boom boom boom

Hours go by, slip away, one, two, five
Lyrics speak to me, deep, I’m so alive

Hip hop, jazz, rhythm and blues
Music unto me transfuse

The music lives in me, magnificent, sublime
I just want to jump, dance, move in time

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My Bonnie

Somewhere on the ocean waves, my Bonnie must be. How I want her to come back to me. That is a song that is old and legendary. If you ever want to hear something quite cool, listen to a version recorded by boys from Liverpool. That song came before most of their rest. The drummer at the time was a guy named Pete Best. Pete preceded a fellow named “Ringo”. Mister Starr at the time was someone the other three did not know. The recording is quite snappy with a good smooth flow. So if anyone sees my Bonnie lying over the sea, get her and bring her right back to me.

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Musical chair

Bored as an empty rockin' chair
Neckered n' we ride us pair
Back n' forth hangin’ my hair
You swing a tune like an armchair
Rock n' rollin' my musical chair

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Whenever teens gather for an annual concert in Central Park,
they can't wait to swing their bodies hypnotized by wild music:
it's the irresistible charm of their's the rhythm and beat
of the song they'll shout until they can sing louder than a lark!  

Then, wouldn't we admit it's a teen's passion, or another trand?
Today's lyrics mesmerise, but to us they are ludicrous and blank!
We had ours when Elvis was king of the land,
let's understand them...we were just like them!

It's a teen's passion arosing an undeniable desire for a franzied, youthful living!
And if some songs promote rebellion and encourage promiscuity:
it's their choice to listen to what they like and project it as reality!
So why deny them all the fun...didn't we think that swing and rock were thrilling?

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Oh, lovely and adored one...
descend as a star
over the top of a pine
to hear my guitar!

Oh, Lovely and adored one...
let love inflame us 
as the moon wanders alone
amid haze and clouds! 

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Let there be music

Cloth of gold circled her feet
Sitting at her tapestry kindly smile
Dear, you love me do you not?
With all my heart Sweetest !
She clapped her hands twice
Banquet  table , minstrels , ice 
Bright  eyes blue loved to stress
Well versed charms all impressed
Sat down in ceremony served a treat

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Like Comedy

Like comedy the Proclaimers new album is out
Spinning round in the air just hear me shout
Simple things mean such a lot
No matter what ever you’ve got

I listened with both women and wine
Found there’s this album that is really fine
A mix of great songs for all to hear
The thought of you so loud and clear

Dance with me, wherever you roam
Even after you’re gone from my home
Craig and Charlie the applause should receive
At least I think that’s what I believe

So having finished this rhyme I must say
I just cannot wait for the great day
When in Shrewsbury, I will see them live
Out of ten marks, I will give fifty five

Just a quick write as one of my favourite bands has released a new album and decided to use all the track names for this hoping someone will like it

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muddy melody

there's a song stuck in my head
ba da da daaaahhh...
not a lot, but a bit of a bar
ba da da deeeee...
spinning 'round my ears too near
never able to get out of there, i fear
it'll never set me free

i can't hear it's lyrical words
the band's name i'm unable to perceive
just burnt bridges 'n' stanza's
is all i got command a
the whole song's impossible to retrieve

i can't recall who sung it
nor can i recall the composer's name*
ba da da da - a few notes is all
i seem to recall but 
it's stuck spinning just the same

when i'm looooong gone and dead,
i think i'd rather not hum instead
that darn song 'll still be in my head
to fill my afterlife with dread
bedamned reincarnated melody retread
oh, still that song stuck in my head
it's too hard to make it out - or to believe

© Goode Guy 2013-10-18

* After driving me crazy to the point of poetic 
composition, I auditorially searched my extensive
Pat Metheny collection, since I suspected 
it was one of his, and finally came upon:
Pat Metheny Group-2002-Speaking Of Now-08-Afternoon
which is a very good song to get stuck in, 
if you've gotta get stuck

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the beat

Flowing through the mind

Vibrating in time

Bodies sway to the beat

Eye's closed

Feel the heat

Exotic and erotic

Just let go

Your body and your soul

One with the whole

All worries let go

Just you and the beat

Feeling the peace

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The Band

Cruisen in my caddilac,
Fins on the back,
Listening to hank on the eight track,
Flying down the highway.

Heading to nashville,
Make a big deal,
Try to be a big wheel,
Gonna play some day.

Got my guitar in it's case,
Smile on my face,
A little of gods grace,
Maybe even play over seas.

Got along way to go,
But someday I know,
Were really gonna grow,
This band called Eastern Breeze.

Dedicated to my friend and his band Eastern Breeze.

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Springsteen has his Jersey girls,
But I don’t belong there.
When Bon Jovi takes the stage,
I would just feel wrong there.

Randy Newman’s songs are great
And I love Paul Simon.
Billy Joel does justice to
His lyrics’ perfect rhymin’.

Carole King can nail a tune
And I dig Tom Petty.
If James Taylor is performing,
Get me there – I’m ready.

Yet there’s someone who can cause
My blood to percolate
When she belts a melody – 
I’m talkin’ Bonnie Raitt.

Sorta country, kinda rock;
Deep and rich and bluesy.
Every note and word she sings
Is sure to be a doozy.

When I catch her on CD,
The radio or stage,
She still sounds as good to me
As she did half her age.

Keep on groovin’, Bonnie Raitt
And let your music soar;
‘Cause when I hear your magic voice,
I want to hear some more.

For the "What Songwriter Inspires You? contest - Bonnie Raitt

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House of mirrors-Part 1 of 2

Early morning, slightly subdued, a drawn out yawn reflecting my mood, 

slope to the kettle, body distorted by its metallic curves, amuse myself for a 
while, infusing with herbs, 

while my head changes shapes, prepare my tea as the vapours, 

start to rise, steam hits my face, close my eyes, 

let the wet warmth refresh, body and mind starting to mesh, 

aided by 1xtra on the TV, blue screen showing, first sip of tea then smoke 

a beautiful release, tenderly at first, like those tinkering keys, 

in (Digital Underground's) Dowhatchulike, pretend my spliff's a cordless mic,

 each word elongates or collapses with my breath, feel more bounce in each 

 taking control, dance music blessed with a soul, 

a 60s freedom, before this note perishes I'm pleading,

 for the next to strike, a tai pan-boxing as my fingers type, 

without the keys, trying to feel the intricacies, 

of this melody, soak them in through my skin, at my fingertips they begin to 

slow percolation, travel every vein, artery, building to a crescendo, reaching 
the heart of me, 

feel it beat harder, deeper, club lights appear with eye closure, a UFC sleeper 
as I hug each shoulder, 

self embracing, ash altering tattoos, a new creation, 

my mind wandering while the DJ burbles, Jessica Eniss's arse doing the 

only exquisite thoughts, eliciting the illicit, her body contorts, 

in slow motion, as the intro prolongs she melds with the ocean, 

the ocean with the beach, the beach with the dunes, soon I'm back stood on 
my balcony, consumed by the tunes, 

each note, bar, verse, look out to nature, 'life could be worse,' 

'life could be better,' an eternal conversation, my consolation a constellation, 

of shining stars, bars and bars and bars, 

not drinking, not drunk, have some of this stinking skunk, 

it's starting to work, feel their vocals envelop me, a whole body smirk, DJ 

seems to know my highs, my lows, flows with me then starts to oppose, 

trying to provoke me, ignite me, then she strokes me lightly, 

so softly, DJ B.Traits, doing it properly, 

both hands working, head tilted, expletives-unfiltered, 

an unhindered exuberance, her on the decks decadence, 

taking me higher, I'm addicted, her my supplier, 

hit after hit bringing feelings of euphoria, so sensual, need to hear more of 

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Moody Blues

This English band has been around for half a century. Despite personnel changes, they maintain popularity. Their musical style internationally has won many hearts. Singles and albums have gone up on charts. They have performed concerts all over the world. Everyone loves them no matter which flag is unfurled. Rock and classical music make wonderful combinations. Shows usually end with standing ovations. The band is still going strong up to today. Be sure to see this group wherever they play.

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I Miss

I miss my home I miss St.Pete
I miss the music I miss the beats
Also my car I loved to drive
Riding with my boys at night getting high
I miss Connie's I miss the ribs
I miss Aunt Glo I miss the kids
I miss my avenue and my block
I miss good music I miss Tupac
I left and said goodbye to the struggle
I miss the work I miss the hussle
I miss my brother I miss my sisters
Also my parents, but at heart still with ya

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I Heard A Song

I heard a song
Floating on the air
The place it started
I know not where

But what can match
The sound of song
When it is sung
So loud and strong

It moves the heart
And calms the mind
It brings a happiness
For all to find

The song has stopped
But always will
Remain in memory
Playing on still

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My Musical Tastes

My taste in music is not a single
But rather many that intermingle
A favorite tune can make me tingle
For I love to hear a familiar jingle

Romantic ballads cause me to swoon
Play an Irish tune, I'll dance like a loon
A bluegrass song ends way too soon
I could listen to Big Band and swing til noon

A Classical arrangement is, well, classy
The Spanish guitar sounds so snappy
And Rockabilly can be downright snazzy
Those jazz numbers are, you guessed it, jazzy

Just don't ask me too quick
For my favorite music to pick
Of one style, the other can't lick
So to a variety of tastes I will stick

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Well, She Was Just Seventeen

I heard that line and presto!
It was 1962.
This band was great, but who they were,
I didn’t have a clue.

My room was painted pink;
My AM radio was on.
Before I got the lyrics down,
The song had come and gone.

But soon enough those pale pink walls
Were filled with Beatle faces.
I close my eyes and conjure up
Those pictures in their places.

What happened to that fresh-faced girl
Whose future lay ahead?
A song can bring me back to her,
Connected by a thread.

Some melodies are magical,
Transporting us, so fast,
To the time those tunes were new,
A moment never meant to last.

And hearing such a song we fall
Enchanted, back to when
We didn’t know we’d never be
That younger self again.

“I saw her standing there” for me
Performed its magic trick. 
I see myself at twelve but wonder
Just what made me tick.

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Muiscal Notation

Music note with stem below,
heralding the pitch and flow,
rises high and shares its glow,
melody's exciting show.

Music note with stem above,
holding firm this song I love,
as the claws beneath the dove,
starts its flight with just a shove.

Music note with rounded shape,
raising hair upon my nape,
like the wind beneath the cape,
fluttering, preventing drape.

Music note with flag and beam,
quickly forms a matchless team
(that) fills me with a pleasant dream,
faster than my sleep would stream.

Music bar which on your left,
that I call the perfect cleft,
power you are not bereft,
for you own, its guidance deft.

Music score tied with a wand,
over the orchestral pond,
(with) just one tap, you make the bond
for music I will not abscond.

Just a sheet with writing void,
owns an art, I won't avoid,
whether you or I deployed,
(it) makes the sounds, of life enjoyed.

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The Magic of Music

The notes of a song
How they dance on the page
And speak to your soul
In a magical way

Music, oh music
The melody you weave
Through the depths of my mind
Where it’s just you and me

My faithful guitar
Is always at hand
It knows if I’m happy
Angry or sad

So play out the music
my heart wants to sing
I’ll strum out the chords
let them ring, let them ring

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Rum Fun

Yo ho ho a girl and a bottle of rum 
come on over lets have some fun
stick it in the middle then pull out the gun
deal me any dirt you"ll get jack slapped son

We got the party rockin now turn out the lights
all the dirty dancin through out the night
take a shot of jack then bust out a fight

Oh somebody gone an called the cops ,ha !
I"m already out the door before the blue lights stop
cut a corner bust through a fence
all my family thinks i have no sense

Well yeah I got problems but who don"t
I think we all got em
Mines just a Lil more dramatic
but don"t panic
I"m here to rage,im out of the cage
gonna do the show then burn down the stage
                                                 Written By Joseph Adam Burchett   1/13/12

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its in me, the music in my blood my veins it flows continuously.
my heart speaks lyrically as my mind rejoice spiritually.
i live and die for this, music how can you not vibe to this.
let the beat rock, go on and on let the beat rock.
from the blues to r&b from reggae to hip hop the music don't stop.
poetry of the mind to floetry of the heart you can write this and flip flop.
but wait...
if music is your lyfe then don't miss treat it.
if music is your lyfe then put your hands up and gladly repeat this.
Music, this is my vow to you, to stand tall and only speak on whats true.
to represent and respect as my true love, other then the Almighty you are my first love.
us together side by side taken over the world let everybody b a witness.
As we watch the haters grow in number we give them our ass for kisses.
from jazz to rap from country to even pop the music don't stop.
floetry of the heart poetry of the mind you can write this and flip flop.
i live and die for this, music how dare you not vibe to this.
let the beat rock, as the flow continues on let the beat rock.
if music is your lyfe then then pick your mics up and gladly repeat this.
Music, this is my vow to you...

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She stood on on a hill,gown flowing around her.

Draped in red and brown.

One hand poised toward the sky, the other down by her side.

Her eye's looking up towards the heavens above.

 Her lips parted as she sung.

 Her voice beyond all what is imagined. 

 Velvet and smooth her song she sings to you.

Let go of what this world rules you by, and let your heart take over your eye's.

 See and hear what is really here.

And your body and mind will know true cheer. As with that she disappears.

Red and brown gown gone as with the same as the years

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The inner voice of a multitude
Your words and aching lamentation
Comforted generations still to soothe
Melting hearts liquefying emotions

You once bid farewell to love
Claimed no-one ever cared
If you should live or die
Would we now hear one more cry?

A fixed smile barred your pain
What if you only once shared the strain?
You sang of sweetest dreams come true
Glaring into eyes that adored you

Asking let me be the one
Yearning for a loving touch
How you longed to see the sun
The emptiness and lonely void too much!

Oh how your universe sparkled
You felt on top of the world
He made your feelings fly
And shone his starlight down on you

As each last note was played
You realized every promise he made
Broke before long, at the end of each song
How you searched for a place to hide away

Your loneliness oh what a sad affair
If only he promised a lifetime to share
A heart punctured, your essence fading
Finding the right one an eternal craving

There was nothing so hard
As convincing your brittle heart
That time would ease the pain
Your dwindling health such a shame

Your loved ones dear misunderstood your fear
They pleaded you leave your sadness behind
How you sometimes longed to quit
Yet your blessed voice would not admit

You were love’s greatest non-believer
Yet you saw the wonder in most everything
You left a beautiful lasting legacy

The radio still preaching your fantasy…

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Carry A Tune

the strong suit in this voice carries a tune,
echoes emphasized fills up the room,
speak to me...please,,in love and emotion,
but then the vibration would be shortened, and quickly forgotten in motion,
remembrance can come and be forgotten so quickly,
chords and tunes held in voice, memorized emotions spoke freely,
pouring out in prayer while singing in song,
holds onto those words and in love they last long,
they say, "its not over until the fat lady sings",
it's not said "it's all over until the fat lady speaks."

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Floyd Cramer

Shreveport, Louisiana was the birthplace of this man. He could play the piano better than most people can. Growing up in the small town of Huttig, Arkansas, Floyd was a big budding talent the town people saw. Two big instrumental hits by Floyd were found. They were “Last Date” and “On the Rebound”. The man became an integral part of the Nashville sound. He departed this world in the year of 1997. Floyd is now playing the piano in heaven. Thanks to online encyclopedia for valuable information I obtained to write this poem.

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Know that one day my philosophy has 
gotta be a truth within the making
rather than a dream to become my reality.

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Pop Music Today

Is music good or bad these days? 
So much to be had in so many ways
On TV, video and CD
Supposed to supply better quality

Is it just that I’m getting old
Or is it really junk the music were sold
Manufactured groups who cannot play a note
Dancing around it really gets my goat

They take the songs from out of my past
The one whose versions cannot be surpassed
Add some wrap lines or a janga beat
Mutilate it call it garage or street

Who are they kidding only the gullible young
They’re the ones who by music along are strung
They’re so easily led it makes you quite mad
The music they listen to is really so sad

Mass produced crap for all who will listen
Go back to the sixties give the real groups a listen
Then if you can tell me this rubbish great
I will personally find you a rubber room mate

Please take no notice of this unless like me you are an old goat who believes nothing is better than it was in my day

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The Music of My Love

It seethes through sorrow
waltzing through the heart
It mends the broken soul
His melody is art

Tears dry quickly 
and colors fade away
But the sweet sound of love 
Flows unscathed

Until he lets go
And the beat breaks
When the smooth melody
Is forever changed

Now comes the thunder
And squeal of guitar
One can hear the battle
From way afar

Love and hate clash
In a tremendous wave
Making more room
For what might come his way

Then he sees relief
A reprise from the chorus
He looks into my eyes
And finds a space for us

His heart is once again
Filled with melodies of love
I can't help but wonder
What this music may become

It seethes through sorrow
this thing I write of
It mends the broken soul
The music of my love.

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Bands Come and Go

It took a record producer named Mr. White to push you four guys to such a dizzying height. You Erie, Pennsylvania musicians were quite able. Mr. White signed you to the Play-Tone label. “That Thing You Do” rocketed up the Billboard charts. “Shades” and the gang won many young girls’ hearts. The group got to be something everybody would know with an appearance on a major network show. That night, a few inadvertent blunders placed the band into the classification of “one-hit wonders”. Their one big hit song turned out to be their final. Fame and success are fleeting and ephemeral. Based on the 1997 film “That Thing You Do”

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The Dance

Music plays to light the candle,
To slide the step and lift the sandal;
A candle flickers soft and bright,
 And slips away with stars of night.

The light on the table burns for two,
The light in my eye burns for you.
The music plays, the music is slow,
Time to dance, the time is now.

Time to look and steal a dance,
To whisper a word, a sideways glance;
A moment to hold and light the fuse,
Time to give and take the muse.

A violin plays, the music’s begun,
My arms around you one on one.
Step by step we keep the time,
Holding close, your soul and mine.
Your scarlet dress and jet black hair,
Take heed the hope that lingers there.
Whirling, twirling steps to steal,
With feathered wings upon your heel.

The heady glamour of flying feet,
Make rhythmic sounds that keep the beat;
For dancing is a pleasant chore, and I
Thank you dear, we’ll dance once more.

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The rain falls gently against my skin
Releasing the whispers in each gust of wind 
Picks me up than gently puts me down
Playing its music so i may dance around
 Sharing its beat with every breath i take in 
Changing its direction as i dance and spin
The rain drops now fade away 
Through the willow branches the sun shines my way 
The winds gusts halt's to a low 
Now a slow song is played as i dance to and fro

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Ode To The Mosh Pit!

Lights flashing, people clashing
Arms and legs flying everywhere
People laughing, having fun
Dancing without a care
Feeling exhausted, want to rest
Have to find a chair
Can’t see the band because I have to stand
It isn’t fair!
Wait a minute, a gap at the front just opened up
Got to move fast, got to hurry up
If I want to get in there
Now my eyes are hurting from the glare of the lights
But being this close to the band is such a thrilling delight
Seeing them jumping around, hyping up the crowd is such an awesome sight!
Let’s hope they keep the crowd rocking into the night
As they sing their last song
For the final encore
I feel sad
I’d waited so long to see them
But I’m so glad I went along
And in a couple of years, they’ll be back once more!

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A Dance She Loves To Share

The music compels her to dance,
And in her sleek, shimmering pants;
She won't miss this fabulous chance.

So, watch her as she starts to  move,
With every footstep she will prove,
That she's, no doubt, into the grove.

By no chance will your eyes ignore,
She does her best to give you more,
Dancing to music she adores.

The young-men mouth will sometimes drip,
For she will move her shapely hips,
To take them on a sensual trip.

And while there, their eyes will ponder,
As her skillful body wonders,
Hoping she'll dance even longer.

Yes, she will moves with such a flare,
So gracefully from here to there,
Doing a dance she loves to share.

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I was barely nine or ten beginning to feel emotion 
when I started to run as if chasing a balloon
flying towards the widest ocean
of deep blue with clouds drifting by too impossible to reach...
while my memory recalled another, peaceful noon
spent on the quitest, prettiest beach.

I walked and stomped on jellyfish
thinking they would sting me first;
mama constantly warned me to keep away from them,
and ignoring it, I kept on burying then in the hot sand,
but mom yelled, " Son, you are a cruel think they don't hurt,
these are creatures of the sea surviving in tough waters since birth."   

I nodded with that expression of boyish innocence suffocating a scream,
making believe to obey and defiantly planning a scheme 
that would have made her cring and running towards the widest ocean,
I fell into the prestine sand I screamed as if I were in extreme pain.
" Mom, they have stung me! Take them back into the water! 
Poor mama, she fell for my scheme getting up from her confortable chair!  

Enered in Francine Robert's contest,
" Blue On Blue On Blue "
Topic: Beach

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a song is a song, just a song
so come on along and sing the thing
bring out the voice that the song sings
hear a singsong sing along, string along
feel the music, the verse, the whole 
ringing singing swinging thing 
springing along
utterly feel, vibrant and strong
just bringin' the singing along 

today's the day, for all lifelong
to open up, let out, and sing a song
work song, play song, siren song,
twangin' strummin' stringin' folk song 
can't do no wrong when we're
singin' the cantabile* all day long

runnin' headlong along, 
'cause today belongs - 
to you, to me - a whole lifelong
we'll spend our time 
singin' for a song

© Goode Guy 2013-04-19


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Disco Fever Sweeps The Land

Lit up balls sparkling bright
Hanging like a big bright light
Over a dance floor like a stage 
People dancing a new craze
Disco is catching on fast
I wonder if it's gonna last
One arm staying by your side
The others swinging way up high
Up and down as you shake
Your bottom half like a quake
It was soon brought into life
As John Travolta stayed alive
Making disco really known
It's popularity has grown
Like a lot of fads have done
But this one was really fun
Everyone's  booty was grooving
There was always someone moving
To this new sound that's outrageous
Dancers would become contagious
With the beat loud and blasting
As a disco ball was casting
Circles of love and romance
That went smoothly with a dance

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Summer Rain

The rain is coming down outside,
A chill is in the air;
So we spent the afternoon inside,
Playing cards and solitaire;

The desert air is thriving,
From the raindrops falling down
And the grease woods come alive;
As in the torrent, they drown;

The dogs are getting frisky,
And the horses huddle up;
We all pour a shot of whiskey,
In our lukewarm coffee cups;

We’re sitting on the terrace,
Listening to rain on the tin;
The summer heat has been erased;
And we just can’t help but grin;

We started talking and joking,
But silence soon ensued;
We watch the rain as it's soaking,
Putting us all in a good mood!

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The Player of Strings

An ode must be written to the player of strings
Thanking them for the joy their playing brings
Reminiscent to a puppet master they strike the strings
Like a ventriloquist with seemingly voicelessness the object sings.

Sometimes seated or even when they stand
By pick, by bow or by hand
Played as an acoustic or powered with juice in the form on an electric
Like perfect circles both sit perfectly concentric
A lute, a cello and guitar
A harp, a bass, zither or sitar
A double bass, banjo or mandolin 
A cigar box guitar or violin 

Treble, Lyon, Pistoy, Diapason and fret gut
As different as a cashew and macadamia nut
As long as it is played well and not abused
It doesn’t matter how or what is used

The impact of sound orders the audience to be silent
In a forceful way which is strangely non-violent
The sound created is so divine
As delicious as a creamy cheese or well aged wine.

If a picture tells a thousands words
There must be infinite words present in your soulful chords
When you arrive at that magical sound
Body quivers and feet lift off the ground.
Like a boat in the ocean calmly afloat
There is a calming peace that arrives when you hit the perfect note

Choosing between being blind or deaf is decision one wouldn’t want to make
But if I was to only hear, for heaven’s sake
Strike those strings and create those harmonious sounds
And the visual images will come in leaps and bounds

Play me an a, b, c, d, e, f or g in major or minor
When beautifully played nothing could be finer
A verse on its own can be said and cheery
But without the strings it becomes tiresome and weary

The body shakes when the sounds of the strings reach perfection
In peculiar cases it has been known to aid downstairs in an uplifting direction
With the perfect note the soldier stands to attention
Here’s hoping it doesn’t occur at a men’s only convention

Undoubtedly when you play
The dark of night turns into the bright of day
Like a perfect duck dive without a splash
Or a burnt out fire with the remaining golden ash

Whether you’re in your twenty’s or seventy five
The magic moments keep you alive
So thank you to the player of the strings
For the absolute pleasure your playing brings
And sheer delight when your instrument sings


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If I could know - Original by Rabindranath Tagore

If I could know my sorrow is for whom
I would tell you I cry for whom.

I stretch my hands for whom in vain
I think of whom to get more pain
As if I have sold everything
Without getting a price or gain!

I ask myself time and again
Who is the one behind this pain?

The thing that all call happiness
I play it like a flute sometimes
I don’t want it, the music says
I don’t want it, the music prays!

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Lou Rawls

He was born in Chicago in 1933, and became one of the best acts anyone could see. In the fifties, with the “Teenage Kings of Harmony”, with classmate Sam Cooke, he gained great popularity. He joined “The Pilgrim Travelers” after the army. In a South car crash, he was a near fatality. It took more than a year to regain his memory. Lou Rawls became popular with his deep velvet voice. His more than seventy albums with hit songs were choice. He made his mark in the sixties with a recording that went to number one called “Love is a Hurting Thing”. “Lady Love”, You’ll Never Find Another Love Like Mine,” and “Natural Man” were his biggest hit songs so fine. Lou became great with raising funds for some charities that would help black colleges and universities. This was a man who achieved so much during his day. In January 2006, he passed away. Thanks to online encyclopedia for valuable information I obtained to write this poem.

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Flash Mob

Someone sent a You-Tube link
That showed a flash mob form.
Recently, such congregations
Have become the norm.

I love to watch how they begin,
With people unsuspecting,
And as the crowds form, there are strangers
Suddenly connecting. 

Cell phone cameras get whipped out;
Everyone is smiling.
Choreography kicks in,
Which makes it more beguiling.

I wonder how they know their moves
Or harmonies so well.
Perhaps they practice secretly
In order to excel.

The mystery, however, surely’s
Part of the allure.
They show up unexpectedly,
Like guest stars on a tour.

I’ve never seen a flash mob yet,
Except up on my screen.
I’d love to see one in the flesh
And join in their routine.

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It Calls To Me

It calls to me 
sometimes ever so softly 
just a tickle in my ear 
or gently it whispers 
brings forth fresh tears 

other times not so subtle 
with full vibration pulse 
it comes alive 
my senses thrive 
shakes me to my very core 

then there are the times 
snuck up upon, without realize 
but sure enough, I find the source 
nameless notes that buzz and dance about my head 
I catch myself humming ever so quietly 
humming the overflow from within 

but no matter how it comes to me 
the call is always there 
in every fiber of my being 
from the tip of my toes to my very last hair 

music is a part of me 
one I could not live without 
for a life without song, 
without dance, without shout 
is no life I care to live 
or even talk about. 

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You have long blonde hair, Your complexion is so fair. Singing while you play your guitar, in a short time, you have become a star. I love to hear your hit song “Bubbly”. Those cute lyrics compliment the melody. You describe the feeling that starts in your toes. It goes all the way up and makes you wrinkle your nose. You enjoy performing on the stage, and it shows. With more fine music, your popularity grows.

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Mom and Dad's Book of Love

Long ago, from the book of Love, came Daddy and Mommy’s dream
The greatest gift, from Father above, “with magical smiles so seen.”
For on that special day, that you were born, the angels danced all day. 
Family came to give us cards; hearts were merry with Heaven’s sway.

See “Heaven’s window opened wide,” on the day we first saw "you."
From that "special Book of Love," He’ll carefully guide us through. 
Storm clouds come and folks get lost, without God’s light to shine.
He’ll help us with our garden, dear, and give us music like wine.

You are our little sapling tree, so we'll plant you in good rich soil.
We’ll carefully watch-and-pray, each night, so the sun won’t ever boil.
Resting now safe, while angels sing, for every good is of Father God.
All your tomorrows He’ll bring; we pray ‘you’re sheltered by His rod.’

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So many seek this inner state of mind
But this is a place that we can seldom find
So often ripped away by our own daily routine
As so many lives today seemingly tend to careen

Many can’t handle all this mounting stress
Brought about mostly by their own self made mess
Then there are others who really didn’t do any wrong
It’s just that they weren’t made nearly that strong

And yet there are others who don’t even care
They themselves to others they would never compare
Till the day when they all met in the middle
To come to listen to a man just playing his fiddle

He sways and bounces using this fiddle as his song
So soon people look around,  in sensing all that they long
And as he packs up his stuff, so soon to leave
It was a little bit of real inner peace that all did receive

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 The summer brings out a multitude of things
   from blossoming trees to colourful flowers
       onto music festivals,glastonbury showers
         standing soaking dancing, but that all brings

              A sense of bonding as we all in the same boat
                some barely naked not possessing a coat
                  from Leeds to Bristol,London and France
                      hundreds of tents all ages will dance.

                         Not minding if it`s a field of soggy mudd
                           their taste in music blasting, that surely would
                              turn off the thoughts that may carry
                                uncomfortable attire, and happy as Larry.

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Off, off, off
Only blackness can I see

Off, off, on
A hint of what might be

Off, on, off
A line seen here or there

Off, on, on
As I sit and Stare

On, off, off
I see a superstar

On, off, on
Strumming on his blues guitar

On, on, off
His music floats across the air

On, on, on
A 'B.B.' King without compare

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Our bodies will die, not our words
that sound like harmonious chords!
Our eyes shutting, meet eternity
and the One who gave us poetry!
Our names carved on graves so glossy:
an epitaph to memory! 
Some will stop by and wonder why
we choose to live for that quest of joy:
embarking on a long  journey...
to discover realms of reality? 
We shouldn't fear to shine among stars:
our light can reach the moon's sad eyes!  


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Elvis was The One True King
of Our Beloved Rock and Roll,
He had the swivel in his hips
that truly touched one's soul.

"You Ain't Nothin But A Hound Dog"
He would shout while on The Stage,
This song made the women Jump to
Their Feet, They would absoloutely RAVE.

Then "Love Me Tender" He would sing
in His Most Glorious Voice,
He was so Handsome and Debonair,
He simply was their choice.

He truly was the kind of man
that if they could they'd wed,
They would dream this Very Special Dream,
As The Sandman visited them in their heads.

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Music and Women

'Music and Women'

 Music is furniture

 A subtle presence to detain silence's torture

 The best piece being the understated overture.

 Women begin to inflict me

 Prick at me with clawing felinity

 Hurting me, murdering me slowly.

 My mind is unkempt

 Desires and whims are thus left

 Ne'er to be sated, adding to acute discontent.

 Bereft and spiritually in debt

 I'm trapped in penning many a tedious triplet

 One after the other, minute by minute.

 Their sole purposes to decorate time

 Embellish space, fill a line

 But nothing more, nothing else to consign.

 Ringing in unison to a bell's chime.

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Al Alberts

Your time with the Four Aces was of an earlier day. I listened to your solo recording of “On The Way To Cape May”. On Billboard’s charts, it didn’t make much headway. However, I like your song. That I can honestly say. Did you really write that ditty on the way to Ocean City? You description of the area was very accurate and pretty. Your local television show was what I watched each Saturday. Al, I miss you since 2009 when you passed away.

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Tunes Of Romance Giving Me Another Chance

The beats coming from below
In my heart are very slow
Because it can't find someone
Who won't cheat, use me or run
There has to be a guy somewhere
Who can show me what true care
Really is and stay with me
Not leaving me as gloomy
Like the others from before
I just want a great encore
With love and kisses so sweet
A huge supply that wont deplete
And stay full for all of time
Like a love song full of rhyme
That touches your heart and soul
Filling up a dark deep hole
Left by other tunes of sadness
I need someone to end this madness
Singing my heart a love song
That will last a lifetime long
So I can drown out the bad ones
That were out of tune---not fun
Enjoying happy melodies
That say you will never leave

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Into Mother Nature's, realm - this day - did I take a walk
Alone the river's edge - the edge of thoughts - with no one to talk.
Listen did I to the melodious music of Mother Nature's sound
permeating the air, reverberating in my brain, it was all around.
There, in the air, her sweet breath I had found
filling my nasal passages with delight as I walked upon her ground.
Her sweet breath filling my ofactory senses to the brim -
for some moments, my life's cup seemed filled to the rim -
giving life to the silent music of Mother Nature's, dance,
bringing thoughts of two - instead of one - onto the path of romance.
Life's Sunday journey into Mother Nature, was by chance
as a detour was taken on the way to Maple Ridge.
Before these eyes was the BUILDING of a bridge,
not one but two and my thoughts where of bridges BURNING.
The loss of what my heart had long been yearning.
All my thoughts Moneca, where of you
as I journeyed - nothing else could I do
but think of the good, then the BURNING of bridges, not BUILDING them.
During my photographing and hiking this day, thoughts of you did stem,
thoughts of, the BURNING of bridges bringing to the for
a realization, that standing among the ashes, you have closed the door.
This is what I believe and believe it is for ever more.

2 MAY 19th 2009

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So You Wanna Go Back to Egypt

Having then been wed less than a year

when my loved one was removed from the earth

at that time as I sought the truth

I came to experience God's new birth

But after a few months on Christian pathway

been given a love now had been taken away

I began to question my situation

Then God asked by music which way?

The music was from late Keith Green

'so you wanna go back to Egypt'

was the album that God used

to take my soul be completely stripped

The question came from the title track

I knew it put me on the rack

all my moans could not suffice

for God's ways best I must get back

So many songs on this album

showed how much I did yet lack

such as 'you loved the world'

'lies' and 'Romans VII' spoke to my heart

But God lifted me to the heights

to say 'O Lord you're beautiful'

'I want to be more like Jesus'

with 'Grace by which I stand' were my fuel

This continually speaks to my soul

questioning 'If I love the Lord'

my heart must be united to His

to be able to use his divine sword

So now nearly 31 years later

I continually 'pledge my head to heaven'

never wanting to be back in Egypt

realising to me God's perfect love is given


My favourite album of all time still is 'So You Wanna Go Back to Egypt' by Keith Green.

 This occurred when I was widowed after less than a year of marriage, I came to Christ at 
that time of my late wife's passing but after a few months I lost the way a bit and feeling 
sorry for myself and not happy with God. So then God used this album to put me back on 
the Kings highway again, Glory to His wonderful name.

 I am now married again to Christine for 23 years, indeed God is good!

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The Grammys

The Grammys put on quite a show,
With singers young and aging
Combining all their talents on
Some fresh and flashy staging.

How special having Paul and Ringo,
Willie Nelson, Carole King,
Pink, Beyoncé, Lorde, Jay Z,
All brought together just to sing.

While watching as the audience
Was grooving to each other’s sound,
It was a sure reminder that
Life’s better with a song around.

For music has the power
To inspire and delight;
But even more, it closes gaps
And helps us to unite.

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La Sociedad Revolectronica

La Sociedad Revolectronica,
electricidad, gravedad
la unión de las mentes
que brillan independientes
dedos de fuego, deseo electro
Akmuk y CMongrooves Carlos
nadie puede dominarlos!
y cuando tocan en conjunto
teclados y sintetizadores
puede escuchar el mundo
Jazz y Clásica en unisono
las ondas invaden los escenarios
todos los barrios y balnearios!

La Sociedad Revolectronica,
Lethality Scale establece
y el Psiontist y Ron Lung
tocan a todo pulmon
y hasta la mas simple de las mentes
puede entrar en fascinacion
por las frecuencias electro
que generan estos dos!
y luego viene Corrosivo
agresivo, creativo
líricamente pionero
de palabras conoce el juego!

La Sociedad Revolectronica,
del Universo el mensaje
para que artistas independientes
unifiquen sus talentos
el secreto esta en la union
de las almas y la inspiracion!
Revolectronica es la esencia
que inspira a todas las naciones
es de los individuos la orquesta
sinfónica en su núcleo
La Sociedad Revolectronica,
va a cambiar el mundo!

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Play Bobby's Girl For Me

This fine woman has one hit song to her name.
One record in the top forty earned her fame.
It went up Billboard’s charts quickly, and quite well.
It would succeed after release; all could tell.
On every jukebox, Marcie’s music was found.
This song would be among the sweetest around.
With a piano, drums, a bass guitar,
and a male chorus, this recording went far.
“Bobby’s Girl” went all the way to number one,
way back in the year of 1961.
Two generations gone, and it still sounds great.
Marcie Blaine’s song is one that I can relate.

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On the other shore of my song - Original by Rabindranath Tagore

You are standing on the other shore of my song
The waves of my music touch your fair and bare feet
But I can not touch you and I can guess what’s wrong!

The wind is pretty strong somehow
Don’t be late; please sail your boat now
Anchor your boat in my heart right where you belong.
You are standing on the other shore of my song
The waves of my music touch your fair and bare feet
But I can not touch you and I can guess what’s wrong!

The game of song that I play with you
It makes me sad and it’s nothing new!

When will you take my flute of love
And play it to charm me enough
In the darkness full of happiness all night long?
You are standing on the other shore of my song
The waves of my music touch your fair and bare feet
But I can not touch you and I can guess what’s wrong!

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A Man Named Lou

Just a little more than a decade ago, this man was singing about a number five mambo. After that, where did he go? One of the seven women he mentioned was named “Monica”. He sang about two others named “Rita” and “Jessica”. Lou’s one hit song was producing big raves as soon as it went out over the radio waves. He also appeared in an impressive video. There is still that one thing I would like to know: After all of this time, where did this man go?

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The Sensations

As acts go, you were considered very good. A recording group that came from a Philly neighborhood. Your big selling hit song became a dream come true. It rose quickly up the Billboard charts in 1962. “Let Me In” was a song everybody got to know. We heard it played so many times on AM radio. There’s just one category we have to file you under. You have joined the ranks of the “One Hit Wonder”.

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Unreceived Promises

You've cost me more than money,
You've cost me dignity and pride.
The wish that I had not let go,
Of all I held inside.

All the pain that comes with love,
And all the hate that follows.
All the time I can only hope,
That yesterday is tomorrow.

So I can stop, and save my life,
From the treachery you bequeathed.
From all the broken promises,
And heartache I received.

For all the time that time stood still,
For all the time it didn't.
For wearing my heart upon my sleeve,
When I should have kept it hidden.

For tears crawl pedantically,
Down my mourning face.
But thoughts still fly round frantically,
Bringing with them bitter taste.

For it may be dead inside you,
But inside me burns a flame.
The winds of time will not blow out,
And anger will not tame.

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Johnny Hallyday

He was first known as Jean-Philippe Smet in Paris, France, and became very popular when given the chance. This famous performing French artist’s birthday would be on the date of 15 June, in 1943. Many would consider him the French Elvis Presley. Under his new pseudonym of Johnny Hallyday, he achieved fame as the top French singer of his day. A tireless performer that many fans extol, Johnny would become number one with French rock n’ roll. His popularity would indeed go very far. Not only a singer, he was a top movie star. With eighteen platinum albums and four hundred tours, this is a star all the French-speaking public adores. Thanks to online encyclopedia for information I obtained to write this poem.

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As songs sprang 'round
The visions came,
From sprite found
Of fairly name,
Brightly blues and forest green,
Red flame crimson hue.
Graceful sights
Restfully lies
Beneath a shaded sky.

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Alabama songbird –
On radio she’s never heard,
But empties her poetic soul
For strangers all around the world

Sitting in her southern home,
Surrounded by adoring fans;
She sweetly sings angelic tunes,
And strums her plum guitar in hand

And soon enough her voice dispels
The walls around that fail to keep
A cage about her supple form,
As joy and sorrow then release –

In melodies so strong and true,
Yet gentle as the morning dew;
They warm the hearts of listening ears,
And move the eyes of some to tears

This diamond girl will one day shine,
Although she waits unnoticed still
Beneath the stars that seem to blind
An Alabama songbird’s chime.

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In the quiet of the day I hear a roaring on the winds It's like the wild horses Aired notes being pinned An Aerofoil, with slats of wood Aerodynamics in tune, Whistling Below the moon My brothers down under In vibrato sound This Bullroarer of the past On their tribal lands This amazing piece From many a ground The Ukraine, Scotland Native American sounds

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Masters of the Violin

Beauty of sounds so majestic
comes as mastering the violin
these ladies have done so
sweet sounds they do bring

Nicola Benedetti plays with class
fulfilling her promise of this decade
Julia Fischer's masterful poeme
engrossing self never to fade

Hilary Hahn such outstanding craftsmanship
brings such a skilful tone
Janine Jansen so exciting a player
so astounding when playing alone

Anne-Sophie Mutter classiest of all
for decades the violin's queen
Vanessa-Mae willing to experiment
a real stormer had to be seen

The violin a beauty so rare
makes one to stand and stare

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Don't Take My Music Away

Try to take music
Away from me
See how grumpy
I really can be
Turn the volume up
Better it sounds 
Even when no one 
Else is around
It soothes my soul
When life takes a toll
You'll wanna stay
On your feet
So you can 
Dance to the beat
Can relate to every song
So if you like music
We'll get along


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Oh the tempest of the dance
and with it's heartbeat move
within it's rhythm that perchance
that graceless not you prove
to soar within a cheerful tone
as motions weave to melody
does touch within the core of bone
and in abandoned harmony

Cast with flowing piroutte
and symmetry of step on floor
a caper to a minuette
and into dance emotions pour
like children playing in the field
and in song does hearbeat skip
to the feeling one must yield
laid to ballad on the lip

Dance is such a sensuous thing
to seek to feel in songs narration
like butterflies in meadow wing
being warmed by the sensation
as sinuous as a roebucks spring
to a blithful destination
and in its depths the heart must sing
to movement and it's facination

COPYRIGHT © 2010 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC

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In the deepest chamber of my heart
You make love to my soul
No words can describe the flow you create
My beloved, continue to speak to my senses endless
My ears adore melting in your hands
As you massage my spirit with your melody


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Chick-a-boom Forty Years Later

Daddy Dewdrop, I remember you keenly. You chased after a girl in a black bikini. Around the corner, the doors numbered three. Also what was there was the top of her bikini. Behind the first door was a party in a room. The only thing the folks said was “Chick-a-boom”. The far out cat behind the second door had the bikini bottom of the chick you adore. You asked for the whereabouts of that girl so sweet. “Chick-a-boom, chick-a-boom" was all he would repeat. Well, you got lucky behind door number three. That elusive female was there for you to see. Don’t you want some dreams to be reality? After four decades, it still sounds great to me.

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Jefferson Airways Holidays

Modern life, what can I say?
Bring on the time travel holiday
1967, I am on my way
Summer of Love, where I long to be
every tune, everywhere, so very groovy
see the moon, a purple square of LSD.
Head in the clouds and i'm gone
I feel like such a lucky John
revolving records play my song
33s and 45s, what a time to be alive.
I may have had, too much to think
ecstatically my minds eye doth blink.
The happy times and innocence
meetin Maharishi, smell the incense
it all makes cosmic divine sense
open your mind to consciousness.
People grooving to the Byrds
instead of MOO-ving in materialistic herds.
Hippies wear flowers in their hair
Like Thunderclap Newton, something's in the air!

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Philadelphia, 1964

Going to Connie Mack Stadium would be good.
However, I don’t like walking through that neighborhood.
Up there is where some trouble is going on.
Park your car, and you will find your hubcaps gone.
Perhaps they won’t bother us if I stay close to you.
There are some troublemakers up on Lehigh Avenue.
We have to walk west after leaving the subway.
The place is at twenty-first street, not too far way.

Just a few years ago, the Phillies were the worst.
This summer, it is a surprise to see them in first.
They seem to be pulling away at a torrid pace.
That Richie Allen looks good playing third base.
They brought over Jim Bunning from Detroit.
He looks like a winner, as he appears quite adroit.
Back on Father’s Day, we saw him pitch that perfect game.
If he keeps going like that, he is on his way to fame.
Johnny Callison hit the homer that won the All Star Game.
He is another player making himself a name.
It looks as if this team has it together.
What did they say on the news about today’s weather?

Turn that radio off.  I don’t want to hear anymore.
All they play is music from that Liverpool Fab Four.
Those four English guys are polluting the airwaves.
Somehow, their music is what my girlfriend craves.
These bums look strange with that disgusting long hair.
They drive the girls batty, but I don’t seem to care.
Anyway, let’s get going.  It’s starting to get late.
If the Phillies win both games today, won't that be great?

I was seven years old during the summer of 1964.

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The Cats

If you awake at sunset
You will hear them play,
A sound that’s so electric
It rocks the town away

The drums are beating steady
The bass is at a low
The guitar sends a shiver
From you spine and down below

They sit upon a balcony
Humming tunes away
Sometimes the sax just plays a part
Just like it has today

They call them Feline Frenzy
They never miss a beat
They are creatures of the night
By day they walk the street,

Rattling at your windows
Banging on the walls
Toes tapping up and down
With music that just calls

You may come across them
But many fail to look
The bass sitting behind the bins
The cat reading the music book

Sitting at the piano
Strumming on the bass
With what may be an accident?
It’s done with so much grace

But may just dismiss the thought
They think it is quite a lark
But can’t explain the noise they hear
Just shortly after dark

You feline dance’s quite the step
It shows you where it’s at
If you don’t see the signs my friend
They you don’t know your cat

So carefully watch your kitty
It will give you a hint or three
It shows you that it has the beat
And sings the melody

Dancing in the attic
Singing sweet each note
Swinging to the jazz
That they so cleverly wrote

And when you hear upon your roof
Or hear the applause of rats
Open your window and listen close
To the sound they call The Cats!

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Returning in My Chevy Van

A sweet experience that I have had before, has me turning around and coming back for more. Consider me just a plain and ordinary man. I was passing down a road in my Chevy Van. What I saw next was not a fantasy. I was fully awake, so it was pure reality. Here was the cutest young girl any man would like. She was standing to the side wanting to hitchhike. Not knowing how long she was out, or where she had been, I pulled over and asked her to climb in. She was just like a princess with an angel’s face. Soon, she would fall asleep while lying in her place. Moonlight danced off the hair of this pretty dove. Some time later in my van, we would make love. On a small town dirt road they called “Main Street”, this little princess walked away in bare feet. Remembering how sweetly this little girl had kissed, the princess became someone too difficult to resist. A few miles down the road, I had to turn around. I am just hoping this sweet girl can be found. Based on the hit song "Chevy Van" by Sammy Johns

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Like Music To My Ears

“Drip, Drop”
                                                                                                          Accentuates the spot,
Of my serenity
                                                                                                     From an unusual location
As peek-through light
Toward my eye gates
                                                                                                                      To compliment
The scorching strip of light behind me
                                                                                                                      To compliment
The supplementary silence and darkness
                                                                                                                             Inside me
With acute,
                                                                                      “Drip, Drip, Drop, Drop, Drip, Drop”
Just enough,
                                                                                                                             To soothe
As the silence,
                                                                                              And darkness sings the blues
“Drip, Drop”
                                                                                              Adds the right touch of B-Bop
To keep me swingin’

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Denise is barely twelve and smart,
she has been an orphan for sometime,
but since her mom passed away,
she grew up as lonely child...
generosity was instilled early
in her little, empty heart.

She made her first paper star
when Sirius, the brightest one,
appeared and hung over
the twinkling, navy blue horizon...
thinking of her mother's illness,
and to her she was a pretty princess.

And with love and eagerness, Denise 
sang a melancholic song every evening,
feeling her presence with that smiling face;
other girls had mothers to sing them lovely lullbyes,
so Sirius was deeply touched, and seeing 
her loneliness got some nightgales to lull her to sleep.

I've made a plea today, through the Archangel Gabriel,
to ask God to give the star, Sirius, to Denise,
and in return I would do many a good deed;
and tell everyone the wonderful news with a thrilling voice,
and would the Almighty, who made this gem to gleam,
grant me another wish...a wish perhaps too impossible?

Nights passed, and no heavenly message was sent to me,
and Gabriel never returned to ease my restlessness and fear;
one night as I fell asleep...his voice ordered me to listen,
" Your Father has granted your wish...He has seen a sincere love;
now Sirius is Denise's star!" And waking up from that vision,
I looked outside and there she was gazing at it with awe!

Entered in Lind-Marie Bariana's contest, " Shining Star "

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Title Withheld

There's a rock in my chest
where my heart used to be,
I've learned to shut down

So listen up
and be aware,
that I no longer
really care.

Your passion on stage
has the audience stirred,
and I was the one
who made sure you were heard.

That radio station
who launched your fame,
was my doing,
yet you can't say my name.

You're gonna' be a star,
you're gonna' be adored,
you deserve it,
I'm a minor chord.

There's a rock in my chest,
where my heart used to be,
and my life has always been
a little off-key.

My hero in residence,
doesn't know all I've done.
And I loved him, I Loved him,
just like my own son.

(Song title: Title Withheld. Artist: Ryan White. Band "Resident Hero.")

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Jo Stafford

With the Pied Pipers, you first achieved success. Not many women had your vocal prowess. As a duet with Frankie Laine and Gordon MacRae, you garnered much popularity in your day. You were most famous as a solo artist. The hits you recorded made a very long list. Your wonderful voice sounded so heavenly, with your great melody “You Belong to Me”. I can’t get enough of another song of popularity. That would be the number one hit “Make Love to Me”. Yes, success in the industry came so easily for you. I miss you since 2008, when you bid adieu.

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Music is like the ocean
Very deep and very wide
Sounds and notes that change
Like the goings of the tide

Many levels music has
Very high to very deep
From sounds like crashing waves
To those of pattering feet

Loud, quiet, soft, hard
Music has variety
To meet the needs of everyone
Living in society

Everywhere on Earth
Music is all around
Made by every creature
Alive in every sound

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It's a rite when I get up,
stumbling to my coffee pot...
ready to make it brew,
then the door bell rings...
as the cuckoo clock sings: 
it's my lovely neighbor Sue!

As she walks with a dozen of eggs,
she smells the aroma of espresso saying,
" I want some of that! " swinging her legs;
" Tomorrow I am going to Broadway,
I got two tickets...would you come, darling? "
And I reply, " Yes, Sue...what's the play? "

She looks at me and says,
" The beauty and the Beast! "
" How romantic! " I reply...
" You'll be amazed how many folks
adore it when he makes her sigh! "
" Ah, look out...your eggs have cracked,
and they are all over your dress! "

" Quick, help me to take off my dress...
It's past eleven, five hours before the musical starts!"
" Hold on, let me check the strawberry tarts
in the toaster...they can burn and go to waste! "
And rushing to the kitchen, I fell on my butt flat as a rat...
I blamed Sue for messing up my delicious breakfast!

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He is a world-renowned entertainer everyone knows. People flock to the showrooms at casinos. Engelbert continues to be a patron magnet. He’s one of the best performers anyone can get.. The book of his life’s story has turned another page. However, he still looks great performing up on stage. With that ever present velvety-smooth singing voice, at the casinos, Engelbert is still anyone’s choice.

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Beauty of Creation dark.
Genius of the Underworld.
Bats are given wings of gold.
Demon sons, they lie unfurled.
Black is rimmed with diamond lip.
Physical transcends.
And so begins that dark, cool beat -
that once awakened, never ends.

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Music Is Life

Music is my life, twenty-four hours around,
Listening to it even when there's no sound,
It’s my only addiction,
My only obsession,
Making me happy when not even she can,
My blue print through life, my main plan,
Playing it for her, she starts to cry,
Lyrical tears flow from eye,
As I listen to it the world pause,
While it digs my skin wit it melodious claws,
Making my ear drum smile,
A smile on its face that stays all the while,
As my eyes close, my ears see,
The path of tune and in sync harmony,
I close my mouth but am still singing,
Back and forth in my head its always swinging,
Music relieves the pain caused by love,
Makes my heart light as it floats to the sky above,
Never malnourish of music,
Makes the world less realistic,
It’s my life, hope and happiness,
Hours of listening, endless......

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Woodstock in Florida

Could you imagine if Hippies came down to the Sunshine State?
They would literally break the down the gate
Just to see a festival meant for a small crowd
The music would be so loud

But the people would sit around all day
While the lights from the ultraviolet ray
Would blister up their skin
But they will just sit there with all their friends

Just to hear three days of music, and experience peace and fun
Sure they would get beat up by the Sun
And all the drugs they did
But hey, some of them would be just kids

Who did not know the right things to do
But they would all sit there and listen to music of the Who,
Jimi Hendrix, Creedence Clearwater Revival, and Ravi Shankar
They would all come from so very far

Just to see something so entertaining and great
That they would come to the Sunshine State
I wish that I could reverse the clock
And have the Florida legislature plan another Woodstock

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The O'Jays

They were three talented men nearly everybody got to know.
The music world received quite a gift with this trio.
They hailed from a town somewhere in Ohio.
In a Philly recording studio this group was found.
Many recordings they made were soon to be hit bound.
They recorded “Backstabbers”, “Love Train”, and “I Love Music”.
They were just a few of the songs sounding terrific.
We can still see them perform.  They have not gone away.
Check them out if they are in concert today.

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El Condor Pasa

El Condor Pasa means Flight of the Condor
Song preformed by Simon and Garfunkel

                                               I'd rather be a
                                          sparrow than a snail
                                                 Yes I would
                                                   If I could
                                                I surely would.
(Do you remember this one?)

The Buzzard

Watching the buzzard up high
Circling in the clear blue sky
Catching the air currents, free
Looking down on you and me

Searching for nourishment, meat
As he circles what does he see
His homeland, his dead tree
A great country that's still free

A homeland riddled with crime
No longer really safe, nor free
Freedom to leave doors unlocked
Cars no longer safe to just park

Maybe the buzzard is waiting 
To feed, on filth that rules
The streets with crime, drugs
Handguns wildly handled

(Unfinished and rhymes somewhat. Can you think from news of something to 

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Papa Says Yes Mama Says No

Papa says yes
Mama says no

Off to a dance
I want to go

Flowers in my hair
Mama says Girl don't you dare

Horn's just a blaring
Papa not even caring

Begging dear mama
Please Please can I go hah hah

If your papa says yes
Then I must confess

Your mama says no
But This time I'll let you go

Be home by eleven
My little princess from Heaven

For if you come in late
Your papa is going to kill that date

         To My

Tribute To 
Teenage Dating

Remember Kiddies
Were always watching LOL

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Poetry Soup

This is where I come to bleed.
Where I leave my heart for you to read.
So many things in my heart to grieve.
But only one place it can come to relieve.

It's where my friends I've never met,
Yet, in their minds, my feelings I set.
You relate my fears. You see my love,
Even for that of my God high above.
I speak to you of the one I hold dear.
Whenever, for her, I'm shedding a tear.

Poetry and song in the world we fill,
Leaving it with an insurmountable bill.
Though in money and riches we do not bask,
A little of your time is all I ask.
Poetry soup is what soothes my soul.
It makes even the broken feel once again whole.

I write when I'm joyful. I write when I'm lost.
I write when the world has me beaten and tossed.
It's a medicine so potent we cannot perceive.
They're words that can make weak humans believe.

So to you the readers I am ever indebted.
It's a friendship I have not ever regretted.

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Revolectronic Society

Revolectronic Society, 
electricity, gravity
the union of the minds
that independently shine
fingers of fire, electro desire
Akmuk and CMongrooves
nothing can beat these two!
and when they play together
keyboards and synthesizers
the World stops to listen
Jazz and Classical in unison
the waves invade the stages
and even all the prisons!

Revolectronic Society
sets the Lethality Scale
and the Psiontist and Ron Lung
to the Universe can take
even the simplest of the heads
can be fascinated
by the electro frecuencies
that these two can generate!
and then comes Corrosive
agressive, creative
lyrically insane
of words he knows the game!

Revolectronic Society
a message of the almighty
for independent artists
to unify their talents!
the secret is in the union
of the souls and the inspirations
Revolectronic is the essence
that inspires all the Nations
of the individuals the orchestra
symphonic in its core
Revolectronic society
you are changing the World!

Carlos Mongrut

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Hey I am so restless - Original by Rabindranath Tagore

Hey! I am so restless
I long for the Farthest!

Days go by one by one
I look through the window
To see if He has come –
I want His touch so very much!

O the Farthest, the huge Farthest
Your flute’s music makes me impressed
So I forget I have no wing
And this small earth is my address!

I am absent-minded!
O the huge Farthest
I am indifferent as if I am dead!

In the sunny idle day
Trees make sound and shadows play!
The sky seems like your blue eyes!
If you could come here to stay!

O the Farthest, the huge Farthest
Your flute’s music makes me impressed
So I forget my room is locked
It’s of no use to try my best!

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This is a recording titled “Lies”. It is off and running, and aiming for the skies. It has a sound many consider cool. However, it’s not from those boys from Liverpool. This song is as American as apple pie. These boys have a hit with their first try. This group is known as the “Knickerbockers” by name. With this hit, they will achieve fame.

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John Lennon Deceased

John Lennon Deceased

John Lennon was one of England’s lost sons
Till Mark Chapman shot him with a thirty eight gun
For John spoke of nothing but peace and love 
Was killed by a man who put hatred above

For no other reason than signing his name
The great John Lennon was violently slain
The world mourns for someone who cannot be replaced
His killer the whole world of pop has defaced

But still lets remember the good that John did
For the way in pop music he blew off the lid
Although he has gone he has left a great deal
For all of his music had great zest and zeal

Born in this country he died far away
Let nobody ever forget this sad day
As for Mark Chapman he will not kill again
For now he is locked away with the criminally insane

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Keely Smith

You have had a career that’s been fabulous. How electrifying you were on stage in Las Vegas. Popularity came your way all across America. What a great act you were with your late ex Louis Prima. You two were nothing short of terrific when you sang your hit duet of “That Old Black Magic”. We saw you in some movies, and in television. In those areas, you were equally a sensation. For nearly all your life, you have had your way. I’m so glad you are still with us today. I thank online encyclopedia and for information I obtained to write this poem.

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Renaissance Faire

A lovely day is over now
As Ren Faire comes to a close
As whimsical stories are told by all
Faire goers share the keepsakes they chose

Now there is quiet in the woods 
Wide-eyed children must now leave 
The crackling campfires start to burn fierce
As wild tales begin to weave 

Drums and lutes are heartily played 
Panpipes and mandolins sound
The village comes to life with glee
New friends and lovers are found

An earthly vibe begins to rise
Troubadours can now start to croon
Kings and Queens come ever so near
The night sky shines behind a radiant moon

As time stops for these noble artists
Their magic will live on
The wings of time will bring them back again
From morning until dawn

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compare and contrast

Whether we where this or whether we where that. The girls that I’ve been with or the guys that you attract.

Any given problem have it known I got your back. I just hope that leaves it proven that a friend you’ll never lack.

Ever since I met you only good vibes you’ve been giving. You offered me your heart but mine you have been steeling. 

To get you gotta give that’s just called the cost of living. So if you need me scream my name as long as I’m still breathing.

It’s a shame that friendships die, so why not let this one last. Let’s keep trust and faith right here and let the time just slowly pass. 

If we agree or disagree it don’t matter its still a blast. And tell me that’s not perfect we compare and we contrast. 

The reason were this close is cause were different than the rest. We only speak straight up only real s**t we address. 

The special bond we have is the power we possess. Were examples for our peers and two symbols for the west.

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The Gone-bye Days

The colour emitting flowers blowing on the delicate bough 
The music of the chirping of birds floating in the air
 The nightingale’s eulogy of roses melting hearts tough 
The perfume of love illuminating minds and soul’s cheer

The endless array of enchanting memories of your love and caress 
Restoring peace and tranquility to a devastated soul in a sway 
Clouds of desolation brightened with memories of your effervesce
Your bright eyes taking the darkness and despair of my life away

The buds turning into colourful roses have all withered away
The delightful garden of life turned into a lifeless heap of dirt
The despairing life, for a single smile, exorbitant cost defray
The enchanting music of the chirping birds no longer divert.

The serene breeze of captivating memories chill my burning soul
The colourful withered flowers resurrect and return life’s glow
Revisits the youthful exuberant me that despair once stole
And a ray of lethal arrows flung out of the cupid’s bow

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The Sky is Crying

12.40am, August 27th 1990
A sadness for many
And the music community

Stevie Ray Vaughan
Chicago bound
Helicopter Bell 260B
Hillside it found

It crashed in the fog
Denying my ears
To hear SRV
For many years

In a twist of fate
It was his brother's seat
Jimmy climbed down
The last they would meet

Tributes poured in 
For this guitarist gem
Stevie Vai, Buddy Guy
Hall of Fame

Double Trouble, Southern Class
Dallas Texas, brother loss
Thank you SRV
For the music you brought to me

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Black and white the ivory keys
The tune they play is sure to please
Long and sleek highly polished
Not a mark is there upon it

Grand piano can I play you
For it’s what I long to do
Run my fingers through your notes
I think may be I raise my hopes

Teach me someone how to play
Something light and very gay
Oh I wish the stage was mine
I would play a tune divine

But alas I cannot play at all
So I’d be useless at the ball
I have to sit and watch the best
As they help me with my rest

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The Crying Tears Of Your Violin

The Crying Tears Of Your Violin
   You take to the night in dreamlike trance
In tears you play of the beauty within
Followed through with the sorrow of life
The crying tears of your violin.
   People gather round you in homage 
Mystified by your astonishing sound
Holding hands in lovely sway
Anguish at the theater in the round.
   This seed of disparity planted on yesterday’s morn 
The lovely life of your child’s dismay 
A home disgraced in torching flame
The new found place of a mother’s grave.
   Into the fields of lilac dress
Fortunes of misfortune display less fortunate
Taciturn dreams explode in reverent voice
As life, becomes no more less than ornate.
   Yet you are not alone in your world
As the people sway to the comfort of your soul
Melting within the musical melody of sorrow
While placing their coin into your bowl.
   Where heaven blooms in saddened cry
Lonely love strums chords within
Displays a broken heart unto the crowd
The crying tears of your violin.
     ©By: Darren J McMurray
              November 11, 2008

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Later on that night we had a good time
As we listen to the music and the rhythm  pass by. It goes like this,

You my world and the burden to my soul
You my entity to my emotional control
The love I have for you have never been told
Now I say this I love you so
Words can't express how I feel
Neither can this poem express what i Mean
We've never been apart 
Since you've came to my heart
I've ceased from wandering and going Astray
I possessed a hope that is steady fast and straight
Since you came into my heart
Joy is my soul like the sea billows Flows
You heard my feeble cries, and gave me Hope
Near the river I watched and wait
Hoping you’ll be back soon
Later that night I stirred at the moon

Since the day i saw you
I knew we were met to be
You've always stayed strong
In the worst matter
You think out the better
That's why we were met to be forever
I am nothing with out you
I sleep all night thinking about you
Love is just words that hold us Together
When we go up and wonder
If this future will last forever
Now I know things can get better
As I sing with this rhythm
And the melody in it
Which kept us moving
Day and night
Err and fro
No pain but joy
That i had you all along
You my queen and am your king
We were met to be
And this is how it will be

Later on that night we had a good time as we listen to the music and the Rhythm 
that pass by, nothing in this World shall break us apart   

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I Begged The Night To Stay

Sassing the night
As it took flight.
"Too soon!" I cried,
Yet it did not linger,
Drifting into dawn,
Soon you were gone...
The dream ended!


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Your daddy had a career nothing short of terrific. However, you wanted to make your own music. You stepped right into a recording studio. While the music played, you let your voice flow. What most people consider work, you thought was fun. “These Boots are Made for Walking” went up to number one. Nancy, you also have had a wonderful career. You certainly were an asset to your daddy dear.

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Music, To Me

Let the playlist bring one more song
Just another one to set the night
An MP3 I am for sure to least expect
Tracks to spin my mood just right
This is a song that will be that one
A grand, little ditty of a melody
The rhythm of what is beyond what is
Music feels to me, being set free

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Spirit is a holy place, fashioned by the Master. Joy is seen upon the face caressed by hands of rapture. Reflecting a story of strength born within. Smile, the touch of glory in being born again. When the arrows from the other side penetrates the mind, Dark echoes are crucified, if you leave them all behind. Demonic forces scatter to form the ranks of war. Light's dreams will always shatter 'til you know what they are for. And though good intentions from a heart fully awake, pleasurable inventions can cause the same to break. Songs born from loss and fear cannot soothe a wounded soul. You've been given ears to hear, music that can make you whole.

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A new day

Thirty miles east of Montréal
Through the driving winds and northern scrawls 

Arose a glimmer of hope and talent
The youngest child of fourteen children she was gallant
Stardom and recognition climbed 
While we were all intoxicated by her songs and rhyme
Ruptured by her tender ballads and her songbird style 
“A new day” hit the music charts and I smiled 

And I fell into a state of bliss 
This song hit me because my divorce had exited 

I felt the rain come down and wash my tears 
I felt moved by the new love in my life God heard my prayers
“I can’t believe I ‘ve touched by an angel of love” 
God had given me a new chance at a real love
“Hush now I see a light in your eyes” 
And I did see the light and happiness in his blue eyes 

For a decade I’ve had a private love affair for her music
Celine Dion is iconic and an American classic 

Her classic pop reaches into the depths of me 
I’m in a state of rushing water, running free 


Celine Dion 
“A new day”! 
Inspired by the music to your pen contest!

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Clarinet Solo at St. Cecelia's

Up and down my fingers fly,
connecting and leaving in the blink of an eye,
sparkling silver keys pumping up and down,
at shcool my fingers are treated with renown,
My silver rings flash in the brightly harsh light,
and I blank out enverything else from my sight,
focusing on the music in front of me,
whipping from the low A to a double octave C,
completing a measure and waiting a beat,
by then I'm red and sweating from the obscene heat,
mentally I sigh when I hit the decrescendo just fine,
I barely remember repeating measures six to twenty-nine,
and then with a sweeping bow,
I stride off the stage, and vaguely wonder "What now?"

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Bing Crosby

I really loved to hear this man sing.
His real name was Harry, but we knew him as “Bing”.
In his career, he ventured very far.
Not only was he a singer, he was a movie star.
All of his music was in great demand.
However, he was terrific with music of Ireland.
Each time I heard one of his melodies,
I would embark on one of many vicarious journeys.
I could just imagine myself walking the Emerald Isle.
It was the next best thing to reality all the while.
Yes, we all know the man is now gone.
However, his immortal voice is left to carry on.

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What I Love The Most

What I love the most in my life is everywhere.
It’s sometimes what lovers listen to,
When they run their fingers in each other’s hair.
People dance to it, smile, laugh, and cheer to it.
For the category of what I love the most:
Music, sweet sounding music wins.

What I love the most has turned my life around.
I’m no longer inside out and upside down,
Because a fool left my heart,
But today I am glad to say that it was good for me,
To depart and return quickly, fully, and swiftly,
To practicing what God gave as a gift to me.

My heart bursts when I partake in it.
My countenance smiles whenever I perform it.
The 88 keys of an instrument sets the mood,
For life’s ever-changing interlude,
And for every action and every attitude.

Being back in touch with what I have grown to love,
Certainly makes me happy in a way that,
No one else can think of.
Music, the sound of it is heard from coast to coast.
I’m glad to say that is what I love the most.

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Oh my friend you sing tonight
to some soul have brought delight
some empty night you may have filled
with happiness the world has killed
to entertain you've taken part
and hoped to lift a heavy heart
but if you hope their heart to lift
priceless truth the only gift
Master musician a story you tell
understanding lies within your spell
weaving the listening upon the ears
the sorrow of their own life's fears
You know not all is as it seems
the world imparts it's own dreams
into your well you have dipped
upon it's wine have listeners sipped
music vibrates it's chords upon the soul
can tear it apart or help make whole
the message that you choose to give
can impart death or light to live
Commune with God upon your bed
the tenderness of love don't leave unsaid
with seduction to gain worldly treasure
and lure mankind to lesser creature
Things you hold within your hands
with instruments tones and word understands
a piper who leads minds on a passage
what should be the call of the message
With the song of the Bard is God concerned
where it leads and what teaching is learned
harken to you do the children of youth
be careful to impart only the truth
source "The pied Piper"
COPYRIGHT © 2098 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC

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Stevie's Castle

Stevie, you are someone so many of us know. I remember seeing you in a wonderful video. Your hit song “Overjoyed” was playing in the background. High on Billboard’s charts your song could be found. As a songwriter, you were always prolific and adroit. You rank among the best Motown artists from Detroit. Over time, you built your castle for two above. What a beautiful composition describing your love. This was a song uncountable people enjoyed. So many times we have heard the pleasant “Overjoyed”. January 22, 2014

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The Archies

“Sugar Sugar” had a sound so fine. It was a popular hit song of 1969. That was not all we were going to hear. “Jingle Jangle” was released the following year. However, one element was wrong. Cartoon characters recorded each song. There was Archie, Reggie, Jughead, Veronica, and Betty. They were seen and heard on Saturday morning TV. In a live concert we would never see these band members performing each melody. Their sound many folks considered terrific. How about some truth here, who really recorded the music?

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While cleaning up my dark attic
which hasn't seen sunlight for ages,
I expected to get an unusual headache
from dragging out dusty items like picture frames
hidden in boxes or stacked up as old books...
and my awesome discover was: Bing Crosby's Decca Album;
yes, something told me to open up that neglected room!
Wasn't I thrilled by his youthful looks?

On an old Motorola record player never used, 
I play all of his songs, but imitate him
with , " My Isle Of Golden Dreams " and be immensely amused...
could it be more real than a dream?
If he could come back to life, we would do a duet...
a well-performed song we could never forget!
Sing, Bing Crosby and entertain me for an hour or so...
until your last song fades away, not leaving me yearning for more! 

Before dust covered this precious album, hiding his smooth face never getting old; 
now, it is clear as day brightening up my dull living room
as it once refused to let sunlight in, only shaded by doom!
Oh, this unique musical treasure I've found is as genuine as gold, 
on my book shelf it will lay and as its keeper, nobody will get close to it;
I will allow others to stare at it from distance...forbidding them to ever touch it!

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Sammy Cahn

What a prolific songwriter he was in his day. He was the most talented and energetic by far and away. The man wrote hits for Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Doris Day. Sammy won awards for music written for the screen. His songs accompanied many a wonderful scene. Sammy came from New York’s Lower East Side. His abundant musical talent was nothing he would hide. Yes, Sammy had a composing career that was better than fine. He left the world in 1993 at the age of seventy-nine. What Songwriters or Writers Inspire You Contest Sammy Cahn

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Ronnie Van Zant

They were my favorite band
When I was just a kid
They were my helping hand
Through all that I did

When it comes to Skynyrd
What more can I say
A joke on coach Lynyrd
Just swept me away

Ronnie tried to warn us all
About the needle and spoon
How far we would fall
I was hooked way to soon

At the end of it all
I try as hard as I can
For I no longer fall
I’m just a simple man

To my life the greatest
That ever lived was
Ronnie Van Zant. For
Brian's contest. The 
"Needle & Spoon" & the
song Simple Man had
the greatest influence
on my life. One as a 
stupid kid the other as
a wise old man.

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Tribute To John Lennon

John Lennon, tragically shot dead 1980, 8th of December 
If you were a fan of his I`m sure you would REMEMBER 
Was Mark Chapman playing MIND GAMES, is that why? 
Or perhaps plain and simply he was just A JEALOUS GUY 
John hated war and wanted us all to GIVE PEACE A CHANCE 
Was that murdering bastard on drugs or perhaps in a trance 
IMAGINE If the whole world held hands, you would have to agree 
Thats all he ever wanted, he asked us all, PLEASE STAND BY ME 
His friendship with the Beatles was just STARTING OVER again 
A HAPPY XMAS coz to George, Paul and Ringo he was a fri
But his face certainly became famous, the boy from Liverpool 
Do you think that John Lennon lived on BORROWED TIME 
Was his time up when Chapman committed that terrible crime? 
HOW DO YOU SLEEP Mr Chapman, does it come to you easily? 
How does his family feel after he said "GROW OLD WITH ME" 
The world moves on I guess as we are WATCHING THE WHEELS 
Tell me Mr Chapman are you happy, please  tell me how it feels 
If it were POWER TO THE PEOPLE, then most of the population 
Would have had you strung up, not locked up safe in ISOLATION 
How could you do it? all the world was unfortunately denied 
Like me, lots of others felt as if they were CRIPPLED INSIDE 
NOW AND THEN I still REMEMBER his music and verse 
I think about his murder, to me there is nothing worse 
John may have found peace at last, you mark my word 
I believe he is up there somewhere as FREE AS A BIRD 

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Hoboken Frankie

For the past several years, you have not been around.
However, we can still hear your immortal sound.
Your humble beginnings were in Hoboken, New Jersey.
Show business began by singing with Tommy Dorsey.
Right to your duet “Something Stupid” with daughter Nancy,
you had been striking nearly everyone’s fancy.
For decades, your fans heard your velvety-smooth croon.
You made those forties bobbysoxers swoon.
Affectionately known as “Ol’’ Blue Eyes”,
your great success is something nobody denies.
You are now the brightest star shining in heaven today.
Frank, you can tell everyone “I did it my way”.

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All day long - Original by Rabindranath Tagore

All day long
I dance with the music of your song!

O my Ektara has only one string
It can’t bear the pain of songs that you sing!

All along
I have lost in this game of your song!

This string is tuned to make sound of the near
But you are playing your flute from up there!

Can everyone join that shore of your song
By the music to impress everyone?

All along
I have lost in this game of your song!

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Let Your Soul Ascend Nearer Heaven

Let Your Soul Ascend Nearer Heaven ”Inspired by Steps to Christ," written by Ellen G. White Let Your Soul Ascend Nearer Heaven On the wings of worship and praise. Worship God with song and music; Your melodic voice to raise. With thanksgiving of melody Honor your Lord on high And on those wings of worship May your heart with joy fly. In the courts of heaven Sweet music plays always; Angels worship our Master With soft voices singing His praise. The beauty of this music Is like nothing here on earth. It’s accompanied by millions of voices Of angels singing for all they’re worth. Music touches the heart And sometimes pierces the soul; Convicts with precious rhyme, For that was the Inspirer’s goal. Lyrics put to music Have greater impact than words alone. That’s why singing Bible verses Leads us closer to heaven’s throne. So Let Your Soul Ascend Nearer Heaven On the wings of worship and praise. Praise the Lord for His numerous blessings Of supply and good health, not malaise. As you sing your soul will fly Way up above this earth below; Nearer the courts of heaven; Where the joy of heaven you’ll know. Copyright © Maureen LeFanue 2012

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The Loss Of An Inspiration

Wow, that's all I can say
That's all I could think of when I found out that day
When I first found out about it, I thought it was a hoax
Somebody's twisted idea of a joke
But sadly it turned out to be true
And the world was robbed of you
'Another rapper dead'
The headlines read
So little said
You had an amazing gift
Every time I put on your music, it gives me a lift
You inspired me
Helped me
You put your life and love into your art
And that's why you were able to capture so many hearts
I hope before you were taken away, you realized this
I wish you were still here , but you will always be in my heart
And you will be forever missed.

Details | Rhyme | |

The Corner

This beef in the Industrys' in
the streets of the deep. Dead-End
close minded peeps that see what
they seek

Racing through time as it unravels
in a battle they face every week
polluted reasons of peace

Now I know to most people the 
top is hard to reach 

Take a closer look our dynasties 
almost deceased

Wait a sec. what about the Black
Holocaust grief we were trying to 
get free like a dog without a leash

On the corner I brought back what
was needed that was relevant 

The element of surprise to make you 
haters all relish it

I was a virgin to the rap game I came
just for the hell of it 

I know some of these popped cherries 
wish they could turn back Celibate. 

But it's cool because Cats acknowledge 
kids in colleges it don't matter
whether yo