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Age Music Poems | Age Poems About Music

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

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

Details | Lyric |


My piety,my poetry ,my love
All are in vain
my music, my love ,my mind
All are running insane

My rhymes are all crooked
I can't write a perfect song
Looks like my life is worthless
my music, my poetry its all gone

Behold the paradox,
In these old rhymes 
living in a worthless life 
All these times 

The music's almost over
just need to turn out the light
I need just one leap
Need to show on last fight

I need to create something
something that makes you feel
the goal isn't to live forever
Its to create something that will

Copyright © anbes rawal | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse |

Mindful Music - for contest

Mindful Music – for contest

She sits
somewhere in her mind

by music only she can hear

at those only she can see

rocking slowly
to the rhythm of memory

to music only she can hear.

John G. Lawless

submitted to – So I thought of this line – Poetry contest
sponsor – Francine Roberts

Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2015

Details | Limerick |

Diasbled Musician

There was a disabled musician
Who stiffly played every audition.
Now recording with care,
Strumming from his armchair,
On youtube he’ll post each composition.
20141113 for limerick contest

Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2014

Details | Lyric |

Coming of Age

There is music in her hands;
The graceful gestures of a different time,
Courtly manners and a black lace fan...
A hundred shaded meanings
In my daughter's eyes...
Mysterious, sibilant laughter without mystery
Without guile
Say so many things young and beautiful.

And the dance begins inside her smile
In the middle of her first kiss
That needs no translation...
While the chandelier in a debutante ballroom
Reflects flashes of joy
In a swirl of shining silk
And a trace of elusive perfume
Warming her skin for the first time.

There is such music in her hands;
She is my princess, unawakned
Surrounded by a future beloved,
And dissapointed courtiers...

There is such wonder...

I love you, Daughter Mine.

Copyright © elizabeth landon-lane | Year Posted 2012

Details | Narrative |

Loud Rock 'n Roll Music

At one time loud rock and roll music Would drive me up the wall Guess I must have really mellowed out It no longer upsets me at all Either that or I'm losing my hearing That could be the reason Whichever the case it's sure a relief To finally get rid of those demons My son Scottie is into loud music Middle aged but still hasn't lost it So loud it blasts you out of your chair Your knickers get bunched up and knotted Each to his own that's the way it should be No one should complain or criticize We're all here for a very short while So the secret is to compromise At one time loud rock and roll music Would drive me up the wall Guess I must have really mellowed out It no longer upsets me at all © Jack Ellison 2015

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2015

Details | Limerick |

Gregorian Chant Rap

Mozart composed the Jazz of his day,
Bach could Rock in the same way,
Music is music,
Melodies mimic,
Young tunes turn classical fogies’ heads gray.

Copyright © Chaim Wilson | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

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

Copyright © Vera Duggan | Year Posted 2014

Details | Senryu |

Late Rock Stars

They just can't be dead; They're still on the radio! IMMORTAL VOICES!

Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2015

Details | Blank verse |

To the end of the score

I have died
And been reborn
As an old man
Please give me your hand -
Hold tight and don’t fight
I wish to dance all night 

I wish to dance 
All nightlong
Stay with me to the end
But move slowly
Not to shake these old bones -
Too sore for too much more

I have died and been reborn
As an old man 
Let me stand-alone- by myself
For a while
Do not hold me up
I wish to dance alone once more

To the end of the score

Copyright © RUDOLPH RINALDI | Year Posted 2015

Details | ABC |

Lady Una and the Lion

Walking in the meadow of life on that summer day

Where she always loved to be at Una  walked along the steady stream 
As she picked up the white Lilly flower and put upon her hair of gold (princess of love)

And the daughter of a dander king
Una suddenly turned her head to the old orchard tree and begun to sing roman lullabies of joy

With tears of affection shed for the god who lives above the skies
At that moment she gazed back to the stream 
And there the lion stood so tall just like a king eyes wide looked to una 
As she went toward the mighty lion he went to her and utter'd thee words 
 I am a creature of pride with nothing to hide I am pure of heart true of courage with a mask of savage a mane gold as our hearts-

She became very happy and intrigued 
As she laid her gentle hands on upon the lion she spoke these words 
  -I love thee lion and by sun and moon I love thee freely as men strive for right;
I love thee purely in my old griefs and childhood's faith 

There a tiny lamb appears right next to her and the lion 
So small and graceful like a gift from god above 
The tiny lamb followed them further into the enchanted meadow sky as crystal blue and the wind is calm they drifted off strung into the world
To bring new love joy and courage to the world and spread good faith 


Copyright © Brian Otoole | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |

This Grand Old Piano

This old grand piano stood weathered and worn,
Remembering her finer days,
When classical music resounded aloud,
As fingers on ivory keys played-

This old grand piano stood weathered and worn,
Wishing for her maestro’s return,
But heartache and sadness grew greater each day,
And at times she felt bitterly spurned-

This old grand piano stood weathered and worn,
Alone and dismayed with despair,
Then hope was instilled one morning in May,
When a tuner came in and repaired-

This old grand piano stood weathered and worn,
As a craftsman walked through the door,
With loving skill he began renovation-
'Til splendor was fully restored-

This grand old piano no longer weathered and worn,
Reminisced about days of old,
The auctioneer’s voice rang out loud and clear,
“This grand old piano now SOLD”

Copyright © Genevieve Mika-Stevens | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |

Music of Times Gone By

She wanders the halls in a world of her own
Lost in an era of bygone times
With faltering steps, to the day room she goes
Softly humming the tune of a lullaby.

Time rewinds, she sways 'neath his youthful gaze
His deep voice whispers into her ear
Her lined face shines, frail arms raise to embrace
Dancing to music only she can hear. 

Written on 9/30/2015

Copyright © Laura Leiser | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

Love And Pricks

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

Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |


Five winters ago, Madison Square was cramped with wild teens
as they waited for the music to begin and blast their ears;
I also wanted to share their excitement 
and sing with them while the high-heel songstress
appeared in bikini welcoming their cheers... 
she gave a legendary performance drawing them like a magnet...
the delirious crowd liked the performance of " Bad Romance ".
I looked at her and felt I was rolling back the years!
Some guy stared and me and told his girlfriend with fake eyelashes, 
" Who's this old guy, is he here for the concert? " 
Then they chanted, " No admmission for a wrinkly face! "
" Bet, you can't be dance like us and keep up the pace! "
That insulting remark didn't bother me a bit... 
they laughed, but they stopped when I showed them my fist!

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2015

Details | ABC |

Grey Bird

On that cloudy weekend in June 
I hear a soft and graceful tune 
from the grey bird on the tree 
Singing sweet lullabies felt 
blessed in the moment 
My body tingles of joy at sight 
Gazing out through 
my open door,
Letting thoughts fly free
Releasing love out into the horizon 
Heart filled with emotion came 
over me 
Grey bird stood playing its tune 
for awhile and on the wings of 
letting go
Then as the rain fell from the 
sky the grey bird flew away 
I blew a kiss to the clouds and 
utterd these simple words of I 
Love You father ( who's now in 
heaven ) and yet I hope to hear 
that grey bird sing again once 
more for me 
Farewell, love your son

Poem contest for Debbie -referential

Copyright © Brian Otoole | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

The Lady Sung the Blues

faces sparkling,
wrinkles smiling,
memories at the ready.

Friends inter-mingling, while great grandchildren run through the gathering crowd.
Sun streaking through branches, warming joints, and turned up faces seeking the rare appearance of the coastal sun.

The growing color of gray cropped heads blot out the distant green scape as the band arrives one by one.
Blankets spread, picnic baskets, and bottles of wine appear.
Drummer man begins testing his skins, while the Blues Brother look-alike adjust his mic.
Bass guitar man plugs into his amps then makes a run through his vibrating strings.

memories at the ready.
Wrinkles smiling,
audience’s eyes glowing,
puppy dogs running as great grandchildren do cartwheels on the grass.

Almost ready, drummer warms up with a mixed run of sheep skin sounds.
Base man vibrates notes that rock nearby windows and flutter our wrinkled foreheads.

Pretty lady arrives on stage and is welcomed by the band like an old lost friend. She sets her music on a stand and adjust her mic downward.

Anticipation growing, memories at the ready.
Blues Brother laughing, making eyes at the pretty lady.

Puppy dogs running.
Little four year old boy in blue striped shirt plays his air guitar in front of base man who is smiling at the boy’s mimicking accuracy.

Snacks, blankets, and beer,
vibrations fill the air.

It begins _the pretty lady welcomes all.  She announces that we were about to experience a ride back to the sixties, and seventies.

They start _the rhythm of Muddy Waters fills the air.
As pretty lady sings the blues.

Old necks swaying and dancing, hands clapping, as wrinkles smile again.
Eyes connecting with strangers, family and friends.
Old couples grasping their loved-one’s hands _remembering when,
as the lady sings the blues.

Before you know it, it is over.
Good-bye hugs and handshakes.
Mamas and Papas gathering their now sleeping children.

Retired professionals, doctors, lawyers and old artisans with memories now awakened begin to leave, _some older, turn their heads downward, walking in tune with their walkers, and canes as their children help them back to parked cars in handicap zones.

Cars back out, but before moving on _ a few of the elder attendees turn their head back to the park to capture one more moment in time, as they gaze upon their dispersing long lost friends, who just shared a ride back to the sixties, and seventies; when the guitar man strummed, and the lady sung the blues.

Copyright © Gil Garcia | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

The Old Woman and the Piano

On the curb of the alley she sat
Admiring the old Steinway
Noticing the worn finish and eyes focused on the ivory keys 
For years she played in the symphony
Bringing an ethereal quality to each masterpiece
She walked over to the antique Steinway and began to stroke the keys
Crescendos and decrescendos and two part harmony 
The passersby were enraptured by her humble qualities
A carpetbagger now with barely enough to eat
Many citizens stumbled upon her private concert as she closed her eyes to play 
Rehearsing the most sophisticated sonatas 
As though this was a Carnegie Hall day
At the end of her first performance
As the imaginary curtains began to draw 
The audience of passersby began to clap their hands
As her heart rate began to fall
Her heart had grown discouraged over the years
As she was replaced by someone younger
She fell into poverty and deep depression and learned the song of hunger
Her day was complete
Her life came full circle 
As she played her last concert piece
A band of angels came to collect her soul as her spirit was released
There is a moral to this story of the old woman and her piano…
Live each day of this life as you are strumming the ivories 
Of a magnificent concert piano

Gwendolen Rix 

Copyright © Gwendolen Song | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

The Lullaby's Kiss

I heard a scream.
Echoing, then it suddenly faded.
Within a sad dream, I stirred;
Trying to twig the insipid melody.

Rhythm changed.
A star spun the silvery knob; 
While the silver liquid drops,
Murmuring into the calm hills and valleys,
Humming, flowing into the ignorant streams.
So all there was the raindrops,
Dancing below the gold turning pale horizon;
The chant of bliss mixed with the nature.

Old and new ages hear.
All was quiet.
Listening to a sweet pitch,
Then slept in a sweet way.


Copyright © mark enem | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |


His piano is not played often
as yesterday was, and when it does, the happy sound of Yamaha
lets him enter a fascinating world made up of time clefs, of notes
and chords that imagination 
creates on instant thought...
while he contemplates Nature!

If his body is old, his spirit is young
and it can go on until those weary fingers
won't or can't play anymore;
and doesn't desire palpitate in his anxious heart...
leading it where it wants to go as an eagle soaring
past the hills of a radiant sunrise?

On February the sixth, another year will be added
to the calendar of that man engulfed by loneliness,
but he despairs not when he plays his piano
that soothes his pain, comforting him with hope,
allowing his senses to invigorate as morning 
greets the happy sound of Yamaha! 

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |


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

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |


Whats wrong with the world today?
its like they have nothing else to say.
Their words are destroying creative minds
children know adult things by the age of nine.
It the music and it stupid to sit here it listen
people need to start paying attention
The lyrics are the key to certain answers
look at the certain rappers singers and dancers.

Pause: Let me explain alot clearer...

Lil Wayne went rapper to hollywood.
Nicki Minaj doesnt act her age when she should
Kanye West basically embarrassed himself on stage
and for some Beyonce and I isnt on the same page.
I use to be a big fan towards her
but instead of a sweet dream she chose a beautiful nightmare.
But that aint me
and forget the t.v
how can yall all see except for the all seeing

Pause: dang!

How could you listen to Waka with all the noise
what happened to music bringing peace and joy.
Now its "whos next on my death list."
or "baby i dont know who your dad is."
See im an 90s baby 
and their music drives me crazy
But dang music is triflin
can someone tell me what happened?

Copyright © Ms Renee | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme |


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?

Copyright © Ag Ki | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |


If all the things I have right now were taken away and I had nothing left I would fantasize about nature and how beautiful it is. I would imagine that I was swinging on an old tire swing in front of a river. In the river were little ducks and I would go feed them. In my life right now I don’t think of nature that way. I think if my freedom was taken away I wouldn’t take it for granted the way I do and I would know how much it actually means to me. I would also imagine my family getting together for my family reunion. We would usually have them in September. My aunt would make her fancy white cake topped with chocolate drizzle. My grandma always made her jello cake; I still don’t know exactly how she makes it. The others would bring KFC, at least three boxes full of chicken and fries. All the kids would sit together and play games and laugh as we threw food at one another. We would have a game where the kids lined up from age 1 to age 13 and you would get to pick a prize appropriate for your age. I would always get stuck with bath soap and tooth brushes.I take a lot of ordinary things for granted and I think a lot of people do but they won’t admit it. Sometimes I even take life and my freedom for granted. I think that if maybe we wouldn’t take things for granted like the trees or our freedom that maybe our lives would be a lot better and things wouldn’t happen the way they do. I have lived long enough to know that it won’t happen, nothing happens the way you want it to. Just a few months ago I lost my grandma and I couldn’t do anything to help her. I took all of the things she did for granted and now that she’s gone I miss her. She used to make this tuna casserole, it was just amazing but I never told her just how much she meant to me. I think if I would have told her that more then I wouldn’t feel so guilty or depressed that she is gone. I never told her what I needed to. If people could use the words of John Lennon “Imagine Peace” and actually think about it then maybe the world wouldn’t have to end because there wouldn’t be any enemies, murders, drugs, none of the bad things would have happened. If we could have just accepted everyone around us for who they are and known that one day we all have to die, we could have stepped back from it all and said I had a good life and I don’t regret any of it. I think it’s no good to step back from something and tell yourself that you could have done something to prevent it.

Copyright © Shayla Dendinger | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |

Making Music

The room spun round and round -
blurred revelers rocked and watched

light steps in perfect time,
no need to hear its melody nor
cadence sung to sweet refrains.

She, the maestro of memories
bathes in a reverie of ... yesterdays;
dancing to the music only she can hear -

yet all can feel.

Copyright © craig cornish | Year Posted 2017

Details | Lyric |

Some Way Out

There must be some way out
of this maze of pain and doubt.
I left every thing behind
but, my road is starting to wind.
Someday I might find 
hope at the end of the rope.

The sky makes me feel so high
and the birds make me want to fly
away from here.

So I'll take the subway
on Monday
and go southbound
but, all my songs have the same old sound.
I made my way into South Caroline
sippin' on that Georgia moonshine
but, I want to leave this town
my life is like watching the tears of a clown.

The sky makes me feel so high
and the birds make me want to fly
away from here.

My friends left me way back in Arkansas
it was just another brick in the wall.
I asked you for thirty dollars
you gave me six
just for kicks.
You have always got your knife up to my throat.
My life is like the songs that Bob Dylan wrote
or, crates of wine on a long lost boat.

The sky makes me feel so high
and the birds make want to fly
away from here
away from here.

Copyright © Blake Holland | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet |

Wrinkly And Gray

I am very young in spirit, never weak: guess my actual age?
I keep a positive outlook by avoiding negativeness and rage!
Twenty years from now, I'll be wrinkly and gray losing more hair than today;
I'll spend hours in devoted prayer, molding real faces out of plaster and clay!
Anywhere in the lovely Italian countryside emotions seem to rise from inside,  
I'll sit and paint those life-like images singing an aria from Madame Butterfly:
thinking of New York's friendly faces and that girl who never became my bride,
but staring at the ticking watch will increase sadness, minutes will not speed by! 
Can anyone imagine how I'll react when all the hearts I've broken
will finally smile and feel some empathy, although vivid is their memory?
Time, distance and forgiveness won't allow bitterness to reawaken...
isn't this something everyone should reflect upon and think it thoroughly?
For now, any sad thought on being old must be put aside;
all I can hope for is getting there on the smoothest ride!

Written on 4/ 23/2017

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |

The Quartet Playing Beethoven

The faces are
stamped in.
They sit and play.
having done this
all their maturing lives.
It is familiar and new.

I love the immersion in
civilization, want more,
Like a tantalizing spice.
the faces reach into me,
dancing in soundspace.

The time
fused with sound,
are sufficient
in the faces of the men,
but in the woman's face
a permission remains.

Copyright © Don Schaeffer | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

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!

Copyright © ilene bauer | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Notes of a Graying Rock and Roll Fan

I remember the Beatles 
   and the first
time I heard 
  Sergeant Pepper's 
I remember the Doors 
   and associate them 
with my sexual awakening 
The Association, the Turtles and the Happenings
   made such sweet harmonies
I have now expanded my tastes 
  and listen to classical, folk, jazz and standards
    But I associate the 
power of rock and roll 
   with youthful energy 
   My keyboard and harmonica standing 
in my apartment stand as a testament 
 to my taste 
I lay back and listen to the radio tonight 
    "Another Saturday Night and I ain't got nobody"
   There is a song for every mood if you look for it
There is even a recording called "Too Old to Rock and Roll - 
Too Young to Die" 
The years will have their say 
And all songs come to an end 
But like phoenixes 
   we rise each day 
With a song in your heart 
   you can't go wrong
Anyone out here want to join me in song?

Copyright © Matthew Anish | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |

Silent Chord

            Silent Chord

Strings of melodies stream together
Vibrating from inside without a sound
Welling up in silence
With accompaniments of feelings and the mind
Calming measures blended, refined like bitter grapes
Sweet memory that aches upon a silent chord
Heard only in the sacred crevasses of the heart
Beating a hasty retreat to sanctuary
A single breath of vibrant life on waves of music
Crashing on alien shores
A truce between passion and melancholy blend
When we reflect, remember times together
Not through a glass so darkly
Not everything is black and white
There are many stories and letters left to write 
I can play but one note for you
A simple and pure one
A silent chord

                                                                             Poetry contest: Debussy Inspiration 6/06/14 

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014