Best Pop Music Poems


Premium Member My Generation

Rebellious hearts won fame and infamy,
And knew black nights of burgundy.
Then resisted we the merest tyranny;
For we'd so long longed to be free.

So hip and wild and young--
We touched tongue to tongue.
And to our dreams fiercely clung;
Children of the flowers we frolicked among.

In an age of such degeneration,
Blossomed the youth of my generation;
Who had a penchant for creation,
And caused very much diversification.

We graced museums with pop art,
And sang pop music from the heart.
Memories of scarlet evenings won't depart;
Naked lust never kept lovers apart.

All the world was young when I was!
Seems even the bluebird had a cause.
Our actions gave authoritarians much pause;
We broke the most rigid rules and laws.

Breath to breath, flesh to flesh, toe to toe;
Baby, tell me, where did the years go?
Of smoky rooms, black nights and disco,
And the rosy mornings of love's afterglow?

Premium Member False Alarm

You Fall ...

the ground of your reality dissolves in this
stream of distraction, this inconvenient passion
the mawkish pop music you mock
is now singing your story, as
your thoughts, your breath, your blood
all consumed by his eyes, his voice, his words
all the moments of his notice of you
painting your gray paper with extrinsic purple
and lavish green, filling your thirsty cup
with intoxicating attention, until time
is measured only by your meetings

     You Stall...

hitting the invisible, inimical wall
penalized and ostracized
for presuming the right to ask why
for waking from complicit worship
for retaking your will and your mind
for staining his golden idol
with faith of the atheist

     You Call...

for all his proud proclamations
he is a needy, greedy child
your adoration is his sun
your life force he feasts on
disenchantment is your release
from the prison of submission
his hollow heart, his churlish charm
all merely a false alarm-

9/10/18

Duke Ellington Boulevard

i tried to notice without noticing.
i tried to fit in by not standing out,
but i knew i was different.
their walls much bigger.
their yards much nicer.

in elementary it seemed everyone
was in the same class: lower class,
but this was junior high across town,
on white burb avenue
and i was poor.
they weren't.
of course i resisted.
i mixed and matched the clothes i had
as if i was a designer preparing
for the new season.

they let me into their world
for a little while.
i hung out in huge basements,
chilled in hot tubs with bikini clad young hotties,
taking part in all the gossip.

until my illusion wavered 
and they slowly pulled back--
as my clothes got holes in them,
as my shoes wore down,
as i grew out of all i had gotten 
that one time my mom took me school shopping.

goodbye, Stephanie Bach.
goodbye, Anne Murry.
goodbye, Lori Larson.

years later i would remember them
at the most inopportune moments--
drunk in a dive bar in Harlem
talking to an ugly girl i was thinking about doing,
in the dirty bathroom of a crack house before i
put the pipe to my lips,
in line at the welfare office.

i think i was bitter for a while,
thinking about how they all probably owned homes
not far from each other and how they would
throw little upscale cocktail parties
around the holidays and kiss each other
on both cheeks when they greeted
but at the same time trying to stay hip by listening
to commercial rap and sexy pop music in their suv's.

yeah, bitter

drunk, and very early in the morning,
i came across a tiny neighborhood jazz bar
where a trio group had their hands 
on the heads of everyone and was shaking them
to the electric sounds of their primitive instruments.
a boxing gym had less bobbing and weaving 
than that jazz bar on the corner of 106th and broadway.
cats were healing up in the place that night.

my head was going ten rounds while my eyes were closed 
when those girls popped up only for a second,
but they didn't fit the scene,
so for the first time, i felt sorry for them
before i forgot about 'em.

later, outside, the sign that said 106th st.
had another one below it that read 
duke ellington boulevard
i stared at it, making room for a new memory.

goodbye, Stephanie Bach.
goodbye, Anne Murry.
goodbye, Lori Larson.


Premium Member - Pop Music Icon John Lennon -

GIVE ME SOME TRUTH
John, was born October 9, 1940, in Liverpool
He met Paul McCartney in 1957 
John and Paul formed a close working relationship ... COME TOGETHER
Young and fearless guys with music as the common interest
Over time, it became a REVOLUTION
When we talk about John Lennon, his name associates with The Beatles
With members John Lennon, Paul McCartney,
George Harrison and Ringo Starr
WELL, WELL, WELL in the music world it became POWER TO THE PEOPLE

John left The Beatles in September 1969, a new TICKET TO RIDE
CLEANUP TIME for the skilled songwriter, vocalist and guitarist
- He would continue as a solo artist  BLESS YOU

I became LUCY IN THE SKY WITH DIAMONDS when I listened to his music
LIVING IS EASY WITH EYES CLOSED, sounded so beautiful
NOBODY TOLD ME, that John was actually a heavy drug user
IT'S SO HARD ... to deal with
ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE, greatest of all is love
IMAGINE, John and me in the NORWEGIAN WOOD
STARTING OVER, a new life in my home country

MOTHER ... HERE WE GO AGAIN ... I was in love
GROW OLD WITH ME John,
happiness is a word that tastes sweet in my mouth
Together with you, the song begins to find the right sound
STRAWBERRY FIELDS FOREVER

I AM THE WALRUS - a stupid young girl who dreams
NOBODY LOVES YOU (When You're Down And Out)
John lived on BORROWED TIME, 
bitter rivals and demons sparkle in the air
I feel lonely ...  and I'M SO TIRED
MOTHER said : YOU GOT TO HIDE YOUR LOVE AWAY
 ... YA YA












Song titles by John Lennon, listed below :

GIVE ME SOME TRUTH
COME TOGETHER
REVOLUTION
WELL, WELL, WELL
POWER TO THE PEOPLE
TICKET TO RIDE
CLEANUP TIME
BLESS YOU
LUCY IN THE SKY WITH DIAMONDS
LIVING IS EASY WITH EYES CLOSED 
NOBODY TOLD ME
IT'S SO HARD
ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE
IMAGINE
NORWEGIAN WOOD
STARTING OVER
MOTHER 
HERE WE GO AGAIN
GROW OLD WITH ME
STRAWBERRY FIELDS FOREVER
I AM THE WALRUS
NOBODY LOVES YOU (When You're Down And Out)
BORROWED TIME
I'M SO TIRED
YOU GOT TO HIDE YOUR LOVE AWAY
YA YA





04.04.2018
Sun :) A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Pop Music

Pop                  
                                                         Fine, Pleasant                   
                                                Jingling, tingling, sounding                  
                                                 Drum, guitar, piano, flute                   
                                                 Dancing, singing, enjoying                  
                                                          Ecstatic, luscious                  
                                                               Music










Sponsor: Dr. Ram
Mehta
Contest:Diamente
October 25, 2013
© Bl Devnath  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Oh Boy Sisters

Oh how unlucky can a boy be
Not to have one sister but three
I was always the one who got the blame
And had to hang my head in shame
For everything 
They could do no wrong
And how they'd tease me all day long
They made Cinderella's ugly sisters look pretty
Always wanted a brother myself
But never had one what a pity.

It was never a happy house
They ruled the roost and I was as timid as a mouse
One day one of my sisters got sent home from school
For wearing no knickers must have been against the rules
The knickers had a pocket in front and were navy blue
But what the pocket was for I never knew.

Sometimes. I'd sneak in their bedrooms
And look in all their draws
There were some white long things with strings
I'd never come across before
I thought they were sticks of dynamite and lit them
Through them out of the window
And took shelter on the floor.

How they loved their pop music and would play the same record
Over and over again and have posters on their bedroom walls
And read teenage magazines with pretty girls in
I looked through them all
And then their spiteful friends would call
It's then I realised girls were different from boys
They played different games and had different toys.

They used to lock me in the wardrobe and go away
And I remember screaming  and crying my eyes out all day
We had a pet tortoise I think was called Fred
They buried it in the garden thinking it was dead
When the poor thing must have been in hibernation.

When my sisters grew out of their clothes
They were passed on to me
You can imagine how embarrassed this could be
For a tender boy like me
Ribbons and bows were not my style
And at school I stuck out like a sore thumb by a mile.

Sisters were like blisters they made you sore
Don't have anything to do with my sisters no more.




Peter Dome.Copyright.2015.June.
© Peter Dome  Create an image from this poem.


Honoring a Mother's Memory

Her song was too beautiful for ordinary words 
Ending it on a sweet note that no heart ever forgot
Remembering her for offering a priceless gift 
Seems right to praise her for a big heart without greed   
Pop music and opera were the two things she loved
Immense was forgiveness when wrong made her sad
Regret for not having loved enough was a silly guilt
Incredible was her enthusiasm towards all children
Total discipline she demanded like soldiers in combat
All but pain mom withheld from me, trust was the essence
Lording over others with equality was pure nobility
Illness invaded her body, but she battled it with fortitude 
Vigilance averted danger in foreseen things others ignored
Extraordinary was the faith she was placed in me learning values 
Another mom couldn't have been be more thoughtful that she was
 "Nonna" the grandchildren called her when they came to visit
Dear were those happy angels she proudly hugged and kissed 
Seeing her fragility towards the end, one thought of her death 
Though she suffered, she wished to share a delightful thought
Innovating was her style of looking at elegant things
Love secured by confidence, was an embrace of joy
Limpid eyes as skies gazed over to impart comfort
" Live with honesty " was a motto that identified her integrity
Indeed her words were full of fairness and humanity
Vengeance never shone on that face of endless humility 
Endurance was learned by kindness, not by rage 
Spiritual advice was a spring of lasting knowledge


Copyright 2015 ( c ) by Andrew Crisci

Oratorio

"Oratorio" 

Another angel
hums towards 
another 

otherworldly 
Xanadu

bathed in choirs
its mystery calls in 
the golden aria 

the zephyr light 
glistens upwards
breath on a new breeze 

to lift feathery wings
to soar past Leo moon
breaking through immortal

in time 
destined perfection 
the curtain never falls

divesting earth-bound silks
leaving behind in wake
the chrysalis breaks 

applause 
a fragile moment 
triumphant

8 in the month of 8 
an indigo blue night
echoes forever the angel's wake

towards a lighter realm 
there the brightest 
constant Blue Sky waits

majesty calls the singing in,
baptises angels 
in higher divine tones

crystal clear 
as 
reigning diamonds

tears in the 
fabric of a veil
were never so beautiful torn

Calliope progresses
singing royal borne
dancing in the ultra violet 

taken up as a song lifted,
embraced 
by the strongest 

arms 
of Love 
here, one with one 

the prelude  
singular
now at home 

but never alone
among
other celestial muses

the message 
given and received
sing, glorious as ever 

in Eternity 
we 
still hear you

shining 
magic
Oratorio

(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
for Olivia Newton-John 
b. 26.9.48 – d. 8.8.22



"Magic"/Olivia Newton John
https://youtu.be/91YgAIVSfbs

"Magic"/Olivia Newton John 
https://youtu.be/MppQUZeBeDA

"Magic" (Extended), Xanadu / Olivia Newton John
https://youtu.be/HbFniua36Lw










https://www.reuters.com/world/europe/pop-music-grease-star-olivia-newton-john-dead-age-73-2022-08-08/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Olivia_Newton-John

All About the Art

It’s all about the art- and not about the chart
About the story being told, not coins or bags of gold

Does it come from deep inside, from that hidden secret place?
The emotion from within, the page of life to grace

It’s all about the art- the song being sung
The lyrics of my life, the bell that’s being rung

Long hours spent, must be spent in love
The practice, the drive, to reach the stars above

It’s all about the art- not about the game
The gift that we give, not coveting the fame

The call of the road, the journey of life
The spoonful of joy, the cut of the knife

It’s all about the art- it’s all about the love
When talent and desire, fit just like a glove

The picture being painted, the sketch being drawn
From the last crimson sunset, to early morning dawn

It’s all about the art- the gift that we leave
Intricate fabric, of the legacy we weave

Life is not a fake, a lie or crafted cheat
What is real is all that counts, upon the final sheet

It’s all about the art, the gut the sweat the heart
It’s all about the art, from the finish to the start  

David Kettler




The other day I was listening to a song on Pandora that I really liked and immediately I found myself scrolling to find out if the singer had written the song. I realized that many times I find myself doing that and I guess the reason is that it helps me try to identify with the artist and match the emotion of the voice with the emotion of the writing. More and more I find myself rejecting so called pop-music that is generated, manipulated, often plagiarized and butchered beyond belief all for the aim of climbing some so-called chart. This line came to me on my way to work that day…”It’s all about the ART…NOT about the chart!! After a good thanksgiving meal yesterday at Grandmas and a long night spent in a turkey coma…this poem came out this morning.

Giftedness

GIFTEDNESS

What did you do 
With what I gave you?

Pop music superstar
NASA space engineer
Brown’s Auto service manager
Stylist at Julie’s Hair and Nails
Mom and Pop’s Diner waitress
Church choir director

Talent, ability, giftedness
From a simple smile
To directing a nation
All mankind has been given
Good to share with others
Gifts freely bestowed on us
By our gracious Creator

The power to choose
How we will use
God’s gifts
For good or for evil
Is the responsibility
Each of us carries
One day we will 
Face our Creator
To give an answer
But the motive of our heart
Is the key

mja

Fornification

Fornification is my sin and I can't put down my hands because I confess this to Him and He is a merciful Lord of Hosts, but I vow...I'll not be married or be in another relationship again due to my many breakups and heartaches alike
Owning up to my name and I am proud of my fame, though it didn't give me fortune
Racing up and down the road with my favourite bicycle
None of your business - come over here and be mine, bae and I will make you feel on fleek
In and out of me, I need a fix and my bones are rattling from the pop music that is therapeutic to all aspects of my life
Feeling myself on beat...feeling myself in rhythm...feeling you in adoration's admirable atmosphere without fear...without the shedding of tears
I love you forever and ever...no one is gonna take you away from me...maybe, I'm obsessed and my head is in the clouds as always
Can't stand the silence between us...there's the truth behind lies...we are on the same rowdy bus...don't wave your casual goodbyes...
And I'm sorry for committing fornification... the frustration is regretable and unstable, but I am able to heal slowly, but surely...
Tension is here...I can feel it...listen! Pay attention...lust and passion are my downfalls and I have not ignored His calls...
Isolating myself was my coping mechanism for far too long...I can't even show my face in public because I'm outlandish and unique...I'm afraid to be judged wrongly...I felt all the emoticons on your iPhone...
Oh, it did go over my head...you are living your life in South America...but we are very similar...I loved Skype Calling you - it was such an awesome experience, but it ended abruptly because I reflect weirdness and I'm awkward as hell on Mount Everest...I'm stronger than I realize, I'm not alone and I'm not a failure...I will fight with my might to fight the urges that led to my one and only ugly, deceiving sin - fornification
Nothing can undo the past...the urges come back to attack; alas, God has my back

Twentynet-2010

skinny jeans
converse shoes
britney spears taylor swift
jonas bros tiger beat
magic mood
disco music
pop music
late dates
summer kisses and holding eachothers hands
double dates and triple dates magic
decade magic
now magic
rock and roll and watching tv
no one playing ball outside anymore
crude things on television computer too
eating yummy caramel chocolate
going places different faces
good bad
decade magic

Saints By Day Pirates By Night

This land of black boxes and sharp eyes
where everything is in underground cellar
lives in ardent luxury of persons that are
saints by day and pirates by night

When the sun comes out from her bedroom
saints rise with it clumsy to forge active life
one can see acts of charity escape their fingers
but the heart lies in protest of the wastage

Good tidings squat on their lips in public
notebooks are published to popularize them
songs are chanted with intent to beautification
to elevate the persons for great holy sacrifice

But let the sun go to sleep in its rosy bedroom
saints by day spring into pirates most lethal
as they hold waists of fat women of joy
and dance pop music in their names’ glory

Black boxes, black wine bottles are broken
contents shared and celebrations made
cameramen climb down from planes in haste
to cover  sacred event in honor of saints by day

But no one has the courage to speak out
about these saints by day and pirates by night
though the high  seas they sail and loot
have scars inscribed on victims’ foreheads

Contemporary Christian Music

I listen to a lot of contemporary Christian music because it's inspirational and
heart-warming. Listening to plenty of contemporary Christian music makes me wanting to
read the Holy Bible every single day. It's also as if I'm going to a contemporary
Christian community church in either Carrollton, Arlington, Richardson, or Plano.What I
really like about contemporary Christian music is when it's fused with a lot of pop music,
dance/techno music, rock music, and indie rock music. And out of all contemporary
Christian artists, my favorite artists are Delirious?, Amy Grant, Mark Willard, Aly &
A.J., Third Day, and others. The list goes on and on and on. These recording artists,
whose favorite genre is contemporary Christian music, are a bunch of great influences in
the lives of all of us contemporary Christan music fans, especially when he and/or she is
going to a Christian music concert. After I will have bought a contemporary christian
music CD from one of the music stores, I'll put it in a CD player and when I press play,
it'll be like I'm at a contemporary christian festival in a Georgia town called Albany, an
Arizona town called Yuma, and in Grapevine, Texas. If I had a lot of contemporary
Christian music albums in my collection of compact discs, then it's going to be like an
endless music festival. Unlike gospel music, contemporary Christian music is really
soothing and very relaxing. And if there's going to be a bunch of would-be recording
artists wanting to enter into the contemporary Christian music industry, we'll all be
ready. I wonder if we'll be able to find God in the near future?

Bio Modified: Empath Pluviophile

Empath
A rookie poet,quote lover,business oriented,college student
Who loves her pet dogs,fond of Korean pop music and addicted to reading manga
Concomitant of someone’s joy is your joy,Art is a dormant talent in all,Love is life
I feel safe in my own space,content with my loving family,thankful to my creator
Terrified of snakes,the unknown and being forgotten by those I cherish
I desire to make my parents proud & happy,explore the world,eat kimchi in Seoul
Resident of a village cushioned between diamond mines,my country’s finest!
Pluviophile

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