Best Music Poems | Poetry

Below are the all-time best Music poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of music poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Music Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Music poems are below this new poems list.

Miriam's Music by Ward, Julia
Magicicada Poetry - Summer Music by Talbot, Mick
MUSIC by Enriquez, Leon
The Music Still Plays by Canerdy, Janice
Music Within her Soul by May, Joseph
Music Of Victorious Death by Connell, Carol
I grew up on country music by turner, roger
Music Box Memory by lawless, John
Music Moves Me by Christian, Durley
Fluter's Music by Kavanaugh, Marie

View all new Music Poems

The Best Music Poems

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John Lennon


On the day  that John Lennon died,  people were just going  about their business  as they did every day.  Mark David Chapman  was reading  Catcher In The Rye  void of his holy self.  He would have had to  Imagine there’s no heaven.  John took the elevator  down from his room  at peace with his belief  that there was  no hell below us.  He stepped out  on that fateful day  over him,  over everyone,  above us only sky. On the day that  John Lennon died,  people where just going  about their business  as they did every day.  Imagine, all the people  living for today.  Chapman talked to Lennon. Just before he killed him. He was singing "imagine  there’s no countries  because it isn’t hard to do." Chapman shot his  hollow point bullets,  without cause,  there was nothing  to kill or die for  and no religion too.  What a senseless killing,  how senseless killing is.  I imagine all the people  living life in peace. John fell to the ground,  a pool of blood beneath him.  A preacher on a soap box  unaware of the horrific act  that had taken place  was spewing words   that never belonged  to his soul but filled  the tin cup he was holding.  He yelled loudly,  ‘you may say that I'm a dreamer  but I'm not the only one’   a woman in the crowd hummed  ‘I hope someday you'll join us.’  A teenage couple under  their breath followed with  ‘and the world will be as one.’  Amen! They say when the police arrived  Chapman was reading his book.  Imagine no possessions,  I wonder if you can. The Detectives did not wait  for an ambulance. They rushed John Lennon  to the hospital. They weren't looking for credit;  they had no need for greed.  The preacher had left  with his tin cup full,  no need for more or hunger. At the hospital the air was  like most emergency departments,  people comforting people  who themselves needed comforting.  A brotherhood of man. In a hospital with its tragedies  life is more than real  you don’t need to imagine  all the people sharing all the world.  It just is. You can hear  their hearts  beating in tune,  singing  ‘You may say that I'm a dreamer  But I'm not the only one  I hope someday you'll join us  And the world will live as one.’ 07~11~2014 Maurice Yvonne Sponsor: Kelly Deschler Contest Name: I Love Rock n Roll


Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014


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A Poetry Collection


Hourglass

Sand falls
Through the glass
Love falls
Within the past
Memories dance
They never last
Head in my hands
As I stare overhead
At the hourglass


Falling Down Stairs

Stairs broken
Wheels unspoken
I fell
Grasping for air
Are you there?

Piano Keys

Playing me
Rhythms dancing free
Clouds in air
Notes tossed in despair
Are you there?


Voices

Echoes
Broken wings
Wounded sparrows sing
Clinging to clouds high in sky
Chirping symphonies
Knowing not at all the why
Never loved…
Never loved…
Never hugged
In solitude wonders fly
No one
No one is there



In the Key of Despair

Tap tap
Music in the ear
Flowing freely in the salty air
Beethoven, are you there?
In the breeze, I hear the notes
My mind runs away, it floats
Pain drowned in the river
Limbs frolic on shores of hope
Keys somber in black and white
As I touch them
It conveys the fright


Strings

Choking, not me, but the air
Credenzas and waves
Washing away the realities
Of all your trivialities
Whilst I whither and fade away
Inside a musical symphony
Strangled on lusty desires
Are you
Are you there?


Sleep

Notes hither and floating in the breeze
I look up
The moon
My last breath
My last hope
My last wish
A kiss from the one I never met
The moon hides under cloud
My eyes in tranquility close
The beat no longer in time
No longer there
Where ever I am going
My last thought
Are you there?






Violins and Other Things

Distractions
Deformed from loves inaction
Teardrops falling on time
Rolling down passages
Where darkness does dine
Notes high, notes low
Treble as I grasp the clef
The conductor knows all that is refined
In the end
He shall consume the wine
As I, was consumed by time


Masterpieces

The piano full of dust
Brushes dipped in paints
Now turn to dust
There is a poem over there
In the corner
By the naked painting
Of my Caribbean liver
That cried and wept
Day and night
Night and day
When willows swayed
And the raven landed
On the sill
Of the empty room
For I am no more

Silence whispers
Are you there?


Guitar Strings and Clouds

I caress the strings of discord
Melodies shouting
Displeasure
Credenza’s and interludes
Wine intrudes
The senses squished like sour grapes
Emotions boxed in crates
I caress philosophy
As my garden sadistically does undress
Taunting the desires of my illusions unrest
The rose and the rain drop
Embrace
I cry


Last Act

Once was life
One…… tear…   one tear…… drop
One gasp of fear
Fate licking……………………… deaths ear










Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017


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I DANCE

Voice: Jason Williams *** I danced! Whirling air around me, particles of sundust in tornadoes and hurricanes following me in awe I danced. Each night I wake and feel my legs The ones that once carried me and jumped so high The ones that took me away from a world I didn't want to be in Creating a dream, I danced. The music colouring a world with brushes and pencils With moves and muscle, practice and pirouette A world I thought no one could take away I danced. When my eyes are closed I dance My mind paints my body whole and healed A unicorn, a world of faeries, a galloping horse A world of dreams, veiled and away from hurt I live again I live I don't dance anymore But I write. My words, my lines, they carry me now My legs are useless, my arms and emotions Carry me So.... I dance again, in words I dance. *** 1st Place in contest: Practiced Passion Sponsor: Frank Herrera November 9, 2016


Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2016


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Try

Try to live
Try to feel pain with no tears
Try to remember years past and often lost
Try, oh try to know life need not be cold as frost

Ear not the words of those proclaiming silence
Listen to the rhythmic melody; give voice to a new start
The world will follow when you sing from your heart
Believing in things that some may only try

Try, to see, the truth is musical to you and all of thee
Telling histories with music, as soothing as can be
When you sing, and when you inspire our romance
Ones on crutches, they too shall rise and dance

Try, I beg
To see as eye
Even the ear is lost in the sky
Purest of hearts, they never die

Note: If you cant open the video, as sometimes different Countries have different copyrights, just search YOUTUBE for "Mandy Harvey: Deaf Singer With Original TRY"


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017


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Ecstasy

Exquisitely frail, a lone flute exhales, leaving this heart in a flutter 

Cascading aloft, soft violins rise, from the flow of smooth silver rivers

Swelling the throat, sending spirits afloat on a sailboat of pure ecstasy

Transforming me now, through the mist all alone, where the music can take me away

A symphony of poems, transcends me above, where folklore and hope never ends

Soaring above, and honed from the heart, from the one who knew the divine
 
Yesterday's score, sublime as it is, takes me beyond today's shore

 ______________________________________


Inspired by the music of Smetana
youtube link to music:   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3G4NKzmfC-Q



Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2016


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Charm like harp strings - 128 words

Your mind's in knots, as stress plagues thoughts. On hope you cling, to bloom like Spring. Its fine my dear, nerves can cause fear. Don't be so scared, gifts must be shared. Your smile is cute, when you are mute. No need to hide. I'm by your side. Let the world hear, your tone so clear. Your will is strong, burst out your song. Sweet sounds you make our breaths they take. Look how eyes beam, your name they scream. Go to that length, love is your strength. Your voice brings peace, helps fears to cease. Like sad trapped birds, tongue holds back words. Free them from cage, take to the stage. When your heart sings, charms like harp strings. Look how they dance, as your tunes trance.
Silent One 31 January 2018 Another example for 128 words contest. Rhyme poem. Four words per line all one syllable each. 32 lines: 128 words.


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2018


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An Invitation to Dance

When fields gleam aureate and song birds sing and transient stars in clusters scintillate, when sweet perennials are coaxed by spring to blossom forth, he comes with sprightly gait. He wends his way along the mountain trails past opalescent rush of streams and rills, goat-footed, on the paths that ribbon dales and wind around and up and down small hills. Then nymphs appear as, through the woods, he trips to flower-smitten meadows. Fancy-free, he leads them with his reed held to his lips, till blithely they embrace his rhapsody. So hear the music; watch the wood nymphs spin. . . Then captured by sheer merriment, join in! For Nathan A.'s ANY POEM GOES Poetry Contest


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010


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India

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


Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2014


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I'm Vinyl Baby


i’m vinyl baby,
easy to scratch,
easy to gouge, 
prone to warping.

i’m a 45 rpm record, 
single and labelled,
still got track marks.

dot dot dot
from the seventies!

you know there’s
my black side,
my dark side.

i’m a 45 rpm record, 
single and labelled,
still got track marks.

you,
you’re my diamond needle.
i'm your music,
you know me,
 you play me.

you,
you’re my diamond needle.
gets under my skin
rides my 
grooves
you.

still,
even pass these years,
still,
when my time comes,
pack me in my jacket
bury me in your closet.

you know i’m still
your song,
your tune,

dot dot dot

you make my life neat.

spin
like a circle
i’m the black vinyl
on the roundabout

you,
your still 
the only 
turntable 
for me.
you.

i’m a 45 rpm record, 
single and labelled,
still got track marks.

play me!



14~12~2015
Maurice Yvonne




Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014


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To Dreamland on Sunset's Lullaby

To Dreamland on Sunset's Lullaby

Gracefully the young crescent moon
ascends the sky like a cosmic tune;
replacing the drowsy pale yellow sun
sinking on a golden glowing horizon.

To dreamland on a lullaby of silvery twilight...
to dreamland floating with music of night.

Even as shadows of day seek rest,
choirs of songbirds fly home to nest.
But asleep I'll be before stars start to shine;
asleep I'll be before Venus and Mars align.

To dreamland on a lullaby of silvery twilight...
to dreamland floating with music of night.

Melodies of powder-puff pinks and baby blues,
splashed on sunset's orange-tinted hues;
gently I'll slip into a cocoon of sweet slumber,
on the wings of a celestial lullaby so tender.

To dreamland on a lullaby of silvery twilight...
to dreamland floating with music of night.

The trials of day fade gloriously to gray,
and into Sandman's restful arms I will lay.
My restless spirit is calmed from within,
serenaded by nature's soothing violin.

To dreamland on a lullaby of silvery twilight...
to dreamland floating with music of night.


03-23-2018

Contest:      Lullaby in the Sunset
Sponsor:     Vermillion Scythe
Placement:  1st (PoetrySoup Premiere Contest winner)


Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2018


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Jazz Man

JAZZ MAN

Lips of sweat,
Igniting catalyst tune as they burn, 
Crossed eyes, attention spreads
feeling the whiteness in the pure magic
Each memo confronts the other, 
Soul cord of depth, 
and for one short-lived moment.
Losing sight of reality in a stasis of oasis.
The passionate barb sticks note directly into the atmosphere
Each message is a flood of scheme, 
singing the blues, this smooth criminal
angel of birth, in your hands
luring you to a road in heaven.
The lights are all you feel; 
you can see the forgotten masterpiece.
Bathing in it, as the drums go on, 
the mob gathers, to feel the whiteness of the trumpet.
He is rotating his saxophone, 
making love to the crowd.
His horn comes with words that deepen the soul,
the crowd is mesmerized.
He extends his hands,
A standing ovation,
Slamming and whistling,
Louder than thunder,
Mr. Jazz man is done
With no condom at all……………………….

by;


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012


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Callused Fingers

Callused fingers press vibrating strings
drawing passion from a violin.
And with burnished wood snug to his cheek
the violinist plays from its heart.

Subtle vibes saturate my being
as crying strings elicit feelings.
And expounding on love’s betrayal
music stirs the imagination.

His bow hangs like a lingering kiss
savoring the taste of ecstasy.
And then with tears trickling down his cheek
he unleashes unbridled fervor.

Experiencing pangs of rapture
sound slips the bonds of reality.
And as each note penetrates my heart
it ignites flames of fire and passion.


Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015


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Sweet Ghost Valentine

An old house I am led to -it is the symbol of Memories in cobwebs - like those of old lost love. A storehouse for so many things buried in my mind. I open up its creaking door to see what I might find. Lovely notes of music come wafting down its stairs So poignant is its melody that my poor heart tears. It brings to me the image of one afternoon When I walked with someone in summer by the dune. I listen to the tickling of the ivory Picturing two people splashing each other by the sea. The music now is drifting to me soft and low. I see the setting sun. We’re bathed in crimson glow. Beautifully and slowly the notes keep being played. In the arms of my old love rhythmically I’m swayed. The keys of the piano now are pounding fast. In the moonlight he and I are making love at last. Finally the keys are played as if they were caressed. And a bitter sweetness swells within my breast. Slowly creeping up the stairs I go to learn the truth. Who has played this long-time buried memory of youth? On the old piano’s bench, I see an imprint lies, And I think I can hear my phantom lover’s sighs. Sweet ghost valentine, will you please return And play again that melody of love for which I yearn? For the Sweet Valentine Poetry Contest of Nayda Ivette Negron


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2013


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Acid Rain

*/·) */ ·| */ · \ *(_·_) .| · | .| · | .| · | .| · | .| · | .| · | /#|_.| · | /\ (##(_| · |,_))) \###| · | /&/ \##)&__&&( )##&__&&\ /#|&&&___.&\\ (##\_&&&_'._)| \ ######## // "+,_____,+" Psychedelic notes, Strummed with creative wonder: From a lonely soul. · Music for the world, Crying guitar solos hum: Raining energy. · While his audience, Awaited the finale: Burning his guitar. ____________________ Inspired by Jimi Hendrix


Copyright © Raul Moreno | Year Posted 2009


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She Dances To Her Music


She Dances To Her Music


She dances to her music gracefully,
her choreography, at whim, profound.
With graceful twirls and spins, so dreamily
her rhythm flows to music without sound.

She dances to the music only she
can hear...although I feel its lovely flow
and cadence shape her form; exquisitely
she dips and rises in artistic show.

No music here, but just a silent song
created by the currents that she feels;
with turns and twists, she aptly glides along,
directed by whichever one appeals.

She dances to her music wondrously;
my muse...the soul mate of my poetry.


Sandra M. Haight

~10th Place~
Premiere Contest: Best Sonnet
Sponsor: Laura Loo
Judged: 03/03/2018

~1st Place~
Contest: Poems That Paint a Picture - 3
Sponsor: Silent One
Judged: 09/26/2017

~2nd Place~
Contest: Sonnet 4
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Judged: 09/23/2016

~1st Place~
Contest: So I Thought Of This Line
Sponsor: Francine Roberts
Judged: October 22, 2015




Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2015


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When Do We Start To Live - Collaboration with Space Cadet

Listen to poem:
When Do We Start To Live   Collaboration poem: Space Cadet and Darren White Voice: Wesley C.
How do I know we’ve lived?           If you’re certain then tell me when?           When? When have I lived?      Do I live now?           Is it the tap-tap of my hand against the window;           the drum played by my fingers on the chair?      Is it the slowed back-beat, or the snare drum speed,           under your hand at rest,           on my chest,           in this 2 AM discotheque. How do we know we’ve lived?      Is it a faint notion, or         movement in my legs:         A lotus reed on my calves         I'd never felt until it tickled me? How do I know I’m still alive?      Is it when the ice-blue swaddles          me in abyss, of          inky darkness?      Or when I’m a borne flutter of this butterfly          crinkled away in my chest          cavity?      Or as sun rays play          with light and words that tumble,          crumble, and fall to pieces,          in their own stubborn way,          here,          on this paper?      Is it found in a friend’s voice          that pulls me from dark,          penetrates a radiance inward,          up from me, out,          to my face,          ablaze with why I'm here to exist?


Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2016


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Hey Jude - Dedicated to Winged Warrior

Hey Jude, love is like a butterfly - just let it be. You've got a ticket to ride, go where you should be. Love is a revolution it shall set you free. Don't live a life of sorrow like Eleanor Rigby. You've got a ticket to ride, go where you should be. From Penny lane to Abbey road, you'll find the way. Don't live a life of sorrow like Eleanor Rigby. Don't be a nowhere man, forget about yesterday. From Penny lane to Abbey road, you'll find the way. Become a pilgrim of the long and winding road. Don't be a nowhere man, forget about yesterday. In a Norwegian wood, you'll find the secret code. Become a pilgrim of the long and winding road, but don't get lost in strawberry fields forever. In a Norwegian wood, you'll find the secret code. All you need is love, so trust the path you endeavour. But don't get lost in strawberry fields forever, I always get by with a little help from my friends. All you need is love, so trust the path you endeavour, in my life, I've seen heartache, but it always ends. I always get by with a little help from my friends. A day in the life of a broken soul, is full of fear. In my life, I've seen heartache, but it always ends. Sometimes whilst my guitar gently weeps, I shed a tear. A day in the life of a broken soul, is full of fear. After a hard days night the mind seems to go astray. Sometimes whilst my guitar gently weeps, I shed a tear. Yet I don't believe you've got to hide your love away. After a hard days night the mind seems to go astray. Sometimes its difficult and you can't buy me love. Yet I don't believe you've got to hide your love away. In the end I feel fine, when healed from powers above. Sometimes its difficult and you can't buy me love. I'm saving all my loving for her eight days a week! In the end I feel fine, when healed from powers above. When soulmates come together, passions reach their peak. I'm saving all my loving for her eight days a week! You'll know when she loves you - you'll want to twist and shout! When soulmates come together, passions reach their peak. You'll see something in the way she moves, there's no doubt. You'll know when she loves you - you'll want to twist and shout! One glance and you'll be singing I wanna hold your hand. You'll see something in the way she moves, there's no doubt. Help the caterpillar to leave its cocoon- just as planned. One glance and you'll be singing I wanna hold your hand. Love is a revolution it shall set you free Help the caterpillar to leave its cocoon- just as planned. Hey Jude, love is like a butterfly - just let it be The Silent One 29 October 2017
A pantoum containing 29 titles from songs produced by the Beatles. Hey Jude (1968) Let It Be (1970) Ticket to Ride (1965) Revolution (1968 Eleanor Rigby (1966) Penny Lane (1967) Abbey Road (1969) Yesterday (1965) Nowhere man (1965) The long and winding road Norwegian Wood (1965) Strawberry Fields Forever (1967) All you need is love (1967) With a little help from my friends (1967) In My Life (1965) While My Guitar Gently Weeps (1968) A Day in the Life (1967) A hard days night (1964) You've got to hide your love away (1965) Can't buy me love (1964) I Feel Fine (1964) All my loving (1963) Eight days a week (1964) Come together (1969) Twist and shout (1963) She Loves You (1963) Something in the way she moves (1969) I Want to Hold Your Hand (1963) Help! (1965)


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2017


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The Solo Pianist

Another Sunday evening at the street-corner next to the coffee parlour, overlooking the ocean The solo pianist with desert-lime eyes sits once-again on the piano chair. His hair,a Honeysuckle-brown with a salt and pepper tint sways in the summer breeze under the old wrought iron street-lamp. Passers-by gather in a crowd and listen to symphonic sounds. Like on those many yesterdays when She sat down on the old oak wooden bench to listen to his baritone voice and melodic tune Close enough, to capture the glow upon his face through the soft embrace of a cradle-moon. His fatigued- hands wear early youth which match the embers of his heart His fingers bleed between the keys of black and white, as crimson red wakes up the passion-rose inside. Before each note, within each pause Its there He thinks of her .. The one who turned his every page The brown -eyed ,sun-kissed island girl. All vibrant colours fill up his mind Her somber soul He seeks to find Her shadow still craves to belong wrapped in his arms and every song.


Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2017


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Soul Music

This river of melody plays in my soul, When I awake, I feel emerged in it whole. In the calm of night, when I'm all alone, It raises me with every euphoric tone. But lately my song I have failed to hear, No longer its sweetness caressing my ear. I plead to the gods in the heavens up high, Not to abandon me also and my quest deny. For what shall be without the beating of a drum? Or the flutter of a flute, what will become? The sounds of my soul take not from me, A soundless soul I shall never learn to be. Instead, carve a single note with my awkward tongue, One that shall carry the tune I once sung. And if I'm not able I'll start over again, Because the harder I try my strength will sustain.


Copyright © White Wolf | Year Posted 2017


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Melodies of the heart

In a black and white world, feathered fingertips caress ebony and ivory keys - melodically forming a myriad of vibrant and vivid hues, diversifying dulcet emotive reflections. In a world of spoken falsehood, expressions that cannot be spoken, aid each truthful touch to narrate speechless secret serenades. For soulmates who choose to listen, minds allure to the grace of mellifluous sentimental symphonies, harmonising hollow hearts through tantric vibrations, gently echoing to soothe sorrowful soundless souls. Rhapsodic pianist strokes satin white skin, tunefully kissing black lustrous lips. Hearts play music secretly establishing spiritual connections. Ivory and ebony rectangles dance in eternal kindred devotion, igniting spirits to whirl to the rhythm of sensual sensations. Last note leads to another healed composition as departing flames of passion illuminate lovers paths. A blank page appears at the end of the song sheet. Tired pianist fingers rest as the mind is absent of lyrics, paralysed to play a melody for its own suppressed heart. Lost, pondering mute tears which fail to cleanse its soul., The Silent One 9 January 2018


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2018


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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


Copyright © Heather Secrest | Year Posted 2014


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Leaves of the Dead

Leaves of the Dead

Les feuilles mortes 



They fall like dead soldiers
Dreams knifed in the dead of night
It is as yesterday
Once more
Where love was kissing my cheek
Where hopes had dreams
One could see the blossom of loves desires

Leaves falling in the park
Autumn coldness brings the dark
Death marching towards winters fate
Young love broken at the graveyard gates


Ah now I am holding a cane
I have all but forgotten yesterday
I have no lovers
My friends have all but gone
To their designated places in the ground
Piano keys in soft lit lounges
I remember the vodka stingers and sultry singers 
Telling me life was jolie oh so jolie
If only there was love…

Leaves falling in the park
Autumn coldness brings the dark
Death marching towards winters fate
Young love broken at the graveyard gates

At 3am, with burnt cigarette butts
If only there was love
When the metro finds it’s unwitting end
Reality and cubes make ugly paintings
There are only drunks
Dreamers and bums
Thief’s picking pockets of your final instructions

Leaves falling in the park
Autumn coldness brings the dark
Death marching towards winters fate
Young love broken at the graveyard gates

If you can sober up and face the poverty
Of your empty aspirations of hope
Come to the bois de Vincennes
Where Kings and Queens danced and dined
What better place
To splay the butter
So that the knife slides smooth
Whilst the sun fades kissing the seine
Autumn leaves will fall
Dead again

Leaves falling in the park
Autumn coldness brings the dark
Death marching towards winters fate
Young love broken at the graveyard gates


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016


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The Composer


Eyes closed he hums the melody

replaying in his mind each note 

in search of fitting instruments.


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Image no. 3
Paul Callus ~ 3rd January 2015
Contest: 3 by 8 image
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Placed: 3rd


Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2015


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Anno

There once was a banshee called Anno,
Who was learning to play the piano.
She was doomed to fail,
And started to wail -
And now she’s a world class soprano.


Copyright © jack horne | Year Posted 2011


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Black and White

United Colours: Black and White Sponsor: Silent One Your tune sweeps me so high and free but then I hear B sharp with tears and in sweet trance I swoon in dance with your souls notes while your voice floats on the soft strings as a bird sings you still move me with black and white grand keys ***I used picture number one for this poem*** ~Date Written: March 6, 2016~


Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2016