Writing Lyric Poems

These Writing Lyric poems are examples of Writing poems about Lyric. These are the best examples of Writing Lyric poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Light Poetry |
I am but a dreamer
and in my dreams I play
where I live so happily
writing them my way
inside my illusions
where I know I belong
whistling a joyful tune
as I go along

Like a little spirit
I venture on the breeze
skipping in the gentle wind
doing what I please
with the rising sun I dance
wrapped inside his charms
across the golden morning sky
twirling in his arms

I can climb a mountain
or live among the trees
sail in a silver sailboat
on the seven seas
I can draw a moonlit night
ride on a bright moonbeam
and swim among the diamonds
in a velvet stream

I am but a dreamer
there's nothing in my way
living in the place I love
loving everyday
maybe it's a fairytale
but that's all right by me
I'm the master of my dreams
where I wander free

No one there can tell me
what is wrong or right
following what's in my heart
I live in the light
happy in my dream world
that's where I choose to stay
in the world where I belong
writing dreams my way

Copyright © Robin L. Gass | Year Posted 2009




Details | Rhyme |


I have an idea for a contest,
   A really amazing form called Blitz;
Oh, we poets would write for you with zest,
   Short phrases and deep thoughts, soulful tidbits.
     Fifty lines with no punctuation,
        Our words flowing in chain reaction.

_______________________
May 17, 2015


Rhyme Verse


For the contest, What's The Big Idea, sponsor, Lyric Man

Seventh Place

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015

Details | Haiku |
A fine true haiku
 
Words set in five seven five
 
Poetry breathing

Copyright © James Burns | Year Posted 2010




Details | Quatrain |
The work I do is not the most prestigious one,
from four to twelve thirty I drive...until my shift is done;
a forklift driver rarely takes a coffee-break, 
and being courteous and helpful to customers means a lot.


My long-life dream was to be a songwriter like Andrew Lloyd Webber, but my songs
didn't click...they never made the Top Ten on the Billboard Charts;
and although they didn't sell well to make it my profession, I still hold my thumb up...
that if a famous recording artist performed them, I'd have a huge hit!


My free time is devoted to creating lyrics that I will set to music in late hours;
and I would never be a Mozart, Verdi, or Beethoven if didn't knock on doors
and expose my works to those who would be willing to listen without reluctance...
could one be old and succeed as the young ones with fresher, brighter ideas?


For now, I remain the same blue collar guy coloring more illusive dreams;
many approach me and say," Don't give up...you have plenty of chances!".
I do want to believe that and wear the deserved crown and be lauded as others...  
'till my lucky day comes, I must make a living and have the faith of the achievers.

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2010

Details | Couplet |
Sad news today, February 6th in our year 2011
To "The Great Gig in the Sky" sell out in Heaven

My favourite blues rock guitarist, Mr Irish Gary Moore
Joins the "Midnight Blues, "Too Tired" no more will he tour

At fourteen years of age he received his first guitar
Like many budding rockers aspirations to be a rock star

The Beatles, Elvis Presley and the amazing Albert King
Heavily influenced this left hander, who made his right hand sing

As he grew past his teens, the genre he'd enter would mean
The likes of John Mayall's Bluesbreakers and Hendrix, now he's seen

Blues Rock it was to be, when Peter Green caught his ear
If you grew up with this maestro, you'll know his career

It started way back, way back in 1969
Skid Row, from Dublin he joined, as the music industry would find

This is where his association began, with Lynott, bassist extraordinaire
Many nights sharing the blues, this two Irishmen would share

His solo career just grew and grew, then into Thin Lizzy he would blend
Sharing the Black Rose stage with Phil his Irish friend

The blues became his life, with two Albert's who'd share his stage
Guesting with his 'Midnight Blues Band' many a jam they would engage

I now close my humble tribute, for he'll always be in my heart
On this day in Estepona, Spain, my hero in final depart












http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/music-5.php

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2011

Details | Lyric |
September is here
I wave goodbye to summer
Unpack the fall gear
Cold weather is a bummer!
I'm glad we're eased in
With leaves as they change color
Reminding me of when
I played tag with my brother.
Jumping into leaves
We raked up into a pile
Never misperceived
A landing spot worthwhile
Seasons changed again
And snow now covers his grave
So young he was when
He decided life would end
He thought he couldn't be saved.

Copyright © karen feist | Year Posted 2008

Details | Lyric |
Your so intriguingly divine,
and shivers driving up my spine.
In the long grass, I lay here still,
I imagine secrets spilled.
I shudder at the thought of me,
not ever knowing lovely you.

My head it spins out of control,
overloaded, emotional.
And just to think it's all your fault,
but I don't blame you, not at all.
I shudder at the thought of me,
not ever knowing lovely you.

My heart is jealous, it explodes,
to see you in caressing holds.
You never said that you belong
to someone else. Now who is wrong?
I shudder at the thought of me,
not ever knowing lovely you.

My thoughts, they bleed onto this page,
and you and I are sure to age.
My deepest feelings will stay fresh.
I long to be next to your flesh.
I shudder at the thought of me,
not ever knowing lovely you.


Copyright © Emma Buckeridge | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |
I am a true contemporary
who knows how to acceptably 

write a poem.  First with a tangible
aroma of burnt toast, I will run on

my imaginary couplets like a stroke
victim of the modern prejudices.

(Strophe’s choice is put aside, and 
Iamb not going to count my feet.)

Once cute, most common figures of speech have 
worn out their fashion like poorly matched metaphors.

(Do not rhyme, remember, do not rhyme,
as you wax nostalgic for some childhood time… damn!)

Pent up pentameter oozes with therapeutic 
confessionals that spring or dance or likewise

incongruently twist uncomfortably on the page,
while conjuring an image both shamefully personal

and embarrassingly boring from a tourist’s slide show 
or the shoebox full of faded, classic Polaroids.

Sardonically satiristic, I’ll reach-around to reference
an obscurely erudite portrait of some saint, like 

Christina The Astonishing’s flight into the rafters
of the church to avoid the stink of her own kind.

And at the end of a turbulent typhoon of irregular lines
washing deeply into the recesses of nowhere in particular,

I will, after too long a time, finally and hopefully declare:
une mule morte sur les clefs du piano.

Self satisfied, I’ll end my rant -- non sequitur but unchallenged…
or would you prefer a tantalizing inquiry of you, Dear Reader?

Copyright © James Ph. Kotsybar | Year Posted 2011

Details | Lyric |
In the countryside in bloom adorn
Beautiful scenery for all to see
The sun shines down, its full of life
Different shades of different greens


Through the glens our trips begun
So many sights that have to be seen
Feel the passion of hearts so brave
This land called Alba, peacefully serene


    The land of the Scots, is the best place in the world
    Best place in the world, best place in the world
    The land of the Scots, is the best place in the world
    Best place in the world, best place in the world


So come and see our beauty hoard
So many sights for you to explore
Different vistas, makes us say


    The land of the Scots, is the best place in the world
    Best place in the world, best place in the world
    The land of the Scots, is the best place in the world
    Best place in the world, best place in the world


To live and die in the Highlands breeze
A world apart a different breed
We are the Scots, no in between
So please visit Alba, it has to be seen


    The land of the Scots, is the best place in the world
    Best place in the world, best place in the world
    The land of the Scots, is the best place in the world
    Best place in the world, best place in the world



My entry into John Heck's " BEATLEMANIA SING-ALONG contest "
         please sing-along to the tune of Yellow Submarine




http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/poetry-soup-4.php

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse |

Logos of a lyric poet 
gleans the page, so white. It’s the 
esurient exponent of 

heart and mind. How I 
wish I could be his reader, instead 
I choose to write about--

this childish yellow butterfly, 
spreading its fragile wings and comes 
to listen, intently, the rhythm 

of my blood. Hmm, she will 
be, surely,  noted by me not only for 
tonight, but for many years

after that 
countless tingles of 
skin to skin 

will sip the wine of poetry 
and commingle, un-agitated,
into my own inner craving.    

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2008

Details | Lyric |

Nearing river’s edge;
My thoughts began to wander,
	As brooding clouds formed --
       In a once indigo sky, 
           There the hunter stood…
Yes, the archer and his hounds
	Readying his bow
He implored twins Gemini
“Chase the bull ‘cross Milky Way“… 




(Just a star gazers dream)

Copyright © Adell Foster | Year Posted 2008

Details | Lyric |
with muse in my hand
and wire tapping on brain
I begin journey
to explore imagination 
to find a story
for sheer enjoyment
when bounty is truely found
on that given day I sought







Entry For 
Brian Strand's 
Five-Seven 
Lyric Contest

Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2008

Details | Rhyme |
Thank you all for coming out tonight
Thanks for listening
You probably just want to see what I got
Well thanks for witnessing
Hallelujah,
My words will run right through you
No bowel movement
Just my combination
Of vowels and consonants
My show
So lyrical
Rhymes so nice
They make you feel
Spiritual
Get to your feet
When I speak
Because I’m the main event
Talent is heaven sent
Blessed by God
To make your head nod
And really get into it
Real life
Real talk
No fabrication
I tell you,
So much truth
It’s eye-raising
Ain’t it
So pay attention
Don’t miss it
Because I have so much to offer
Giving you insight
Into my life
Get ready to take flight
Sky is the limit
Think twice
No limit
I’m going so high
Travel with me
Don’t come down
Until we touch the ground
From our long night
Of rhythm and rhymes
But that won’t be for sometime
So stay right there
I have so much to share
If a good show, you expect
Sorry to disappoint
Instead,
It’s going to be excellent
So put your eyes and ears to work
So you get your money’s worth
Have some fun
Because there’s no refund
So enjoy
Even if you think
You won’t
Sit back,
And have a nice drink
Until your mind goes numb
So everything I say
Sounds entertaining and such
Sit back
In your seats, so plush 
And when props are due,
Don’t be a hater
Give it up
Again I thank you for coming
I just want to let you know
Again I say,
Sit back, relax
Enjoy the show


Copyright © jordan brazell | Year Posted 2010

Details | Romanticism |
A
vineyard
for harvest-
metaphors of
love.

Inspired by Song Of Songs 8:12 and 6:3

Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse |
                                                        It weeps.
                                                          Cries.
At the feeling of one's touch.
                                                                                         The hollering, screaming,
wrecking innocence, in silence.
                                 It once lay awaiting the touch,
awaiting the callused fingertips,
                                                                         crisp
                                             and ready-
                                                                                                for the first strum,
bleeding into a love song,
                                                 silently killing a dove
  and regretting that first encounter.
                                                                     Which turned into obsession,
           deep, penetrating breaths, lingering while the wind unfolds the secrets,
                                                                                                 the story within the tune,
 the life throughout the song.
                                   And it never takes a soul for granted,
                                                           it gives
more and more
                                                                                           asking nothing in return,
patiently waiting for one more encounter,
                                                                a master soon to be.

Copyright © Sarah Casey | Year Posted 2011

Details | Lyric |

Spilled 
between 
the lines of 

a
lyric, 
it almost 

slipped
from my
thought, yet, I

found the way to reflect

it, 
and must 
have been the 

art
of my
guiltless brain

that 
alas, 
I refrained…

from anomalous wine!





 

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2007