Best Song Lyric Poems
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
How far can you fall and get back up
How high can you jump
And keep your feet in the sand
To touch grace and fall from within
Next to you I was out of my skin
I missed you yesterday and you leave tomorrow
A life spent in the shadows of lushly tint
Smoke your waves
Exhale the freshness of your menthol scent
Home is what you call shelters that need no defense
I’ll send
You’ll say goodbye
I’ll send again
You won’t reply
If love
Is the appreciation of another’s existence
Then goodbye
Is the anticipation of seeing you again
You and I, we’ll cruise the shores
Together we’ll settle with the wind
The joy of a small hut, a lovers den
You’ll send
I’ll wonder why
You’ll send again
I will not reply
"our songs for sale"
How I admire the lyrical poetess!
She, who watches nature's beauty all around,
yearns to feel the wind of summer's soft caress
as she listens for the magic in its sound.
When she sits to write in peaceful, quiet hours,
from her realm of thought spring forth. . . pretty flowers
She plucks up each bright blossom, then sets them free
as blooms of the lyrics in her poetry.
(This is dedicated to my lyrical poetess friends at soup, of
whom there are more than a few!)
For "A Soup Member Worthy of a Tribute" Poetry contest
of Richard Lamoureux
Synchronized
By Dane Smith-Johnsen
Long and slender with graceful curves
Your embrace, curled close to my back.
Two peas in a pod, loves reserves.
Souls seek sweet slumber without lack.
Steadfastly, adoration grows.
And night’s sleeping becomes a dance.
Darkness befalls tomorrow’s glow.
Hypnotic grandeur grants love’s glance.
Synchronized, our two hearts leap.
Always, snuggled with true love fed.
Short and cushy, without a peep
We as one are to slumber led.
Two peas in a pod passion melt.
Cuddling in the twin sized bed.
Invisible ladies! You see them ev’rywhere,
In sensible raincoats and Margaret Thatcher hair.
Standing at bus-stops, watching the bus go by:
Waiting at crossings,
Letting the traffic splatter mud in their eyes …
Invisible ladies, all in their “middle years”.
Invisible ladies:
No hopes, but so many fears …
SO polite! So ladylike!
Just don’t mind us, don’t make a fuss … Wouldn’t be right …
But deep inside, there’s such a rage …
You’ll catch it too, this vanishing plague
Called MIDDLE AGE!
Invisible ladies … shopping bags all akimbo:
Moving like zombies, each in her private limbo.
Pushing a trolley at ASDA or Sainsbury:
Examining prices,
Searching for bargains – ever more desp’rately …
Invisible ladies, choosing the longest queue …
The one with the baby:
Babies, they’re visible to …
SO polite! So ladylike!
Just don’t mind us, don’t make a fuss … Wouldn’t be right …
But deep inside, there’s such a rage …
You’ll catch it too, this vanishing plague
Called MIDDLE AGE!
Invisible ladies! When somebody barges by,
Instead of complaining, they always apologise!
They oughta get angry, and maybe get pushy too:
Say, “HEY! Look AT me!
See, I’m a PERSON, really very like you!”
Invisible ladies, everyone knows one …
They live in our houses …
You probably call yours “MUM!”
(This is an anthem for all fifty-somethings - Chaps too!)
Be the birdie
in the tree!
Dancing high
color flash!
Be the birdie
in the tree!
Calling love
nest with thee!
Be the birdie
in the tree!
Dancing high
remember me!
Be the birdie
in the tree!
Swoop from branch
high above!
Be the birdie
in the tree!
You had your chance
good
now
bye
love!
(repeat entire refrain)
Tears running down her cheek
So many hurtful words
So many left unsaid
Eyes swollen with the agony of his memory.
Life:
A horrific nightmare
Feelings:
Dead to all
Heart:
Broken to pieces
She's fragile and ready to fall.
Eyes dripping with sadness
Her heart growing colder than ice
Out the window and into the night
Swearing the last tears were cried.
Life:
A horrific nightmare
Feelings:
Dead to all
Heart:
Broken to pieces
She's fragile and ready to fall.
Losing control of all emotions
Sanity slipping from her fingers
Wanting memories of him to leave
Wishing the pain would wash away.
Life:
A horrific nightmare
Feelings:
Dead to all
Heart:
Broken to pieces
She's fragile and ready to fall.
walk me through old memories
days when true love came to be
take me down an old backroad
on a two lane highway fantasy
and paint the picture of sunset
parked in a field where we met
as fireflies wait on night to fall
until we're close as we can get
we'll dance beneath the stars
by headlights of a parked car
country music from the radio
Dixie moon shines
near and far
so:
walk me through old memories
before gray twilight came to be
just one last time for yesterday
until morning sun
awakens
me
Children playing in the snow.
Up and down the hills they go.
Grownups watching like a show.
Knowing soon to church they'll go.
Jingling bells so loud and clear.
Ring so loud they wake the deer.
Santa's coming soon they know.
In his sleigh across the snow.
Now get ready kids to go.
Bed is waiting as you know.
Optional Ending:
Tired and weary, cold and numb.
Visions dance like Sugarplums.
Thanks to Deborah Guzzi for suggesting the last line
This is sung to the tune of "Hark the Herald Angels Sing"
For the contest Holiday Songs in Poem Form by Deborah Guzzi
EVENING FAIR (sing to Scarborough Fair)
Crust of bread and strawberries red
Cheese and wine will go to your head
And when you dance the room becomes magic
Step and whirl at Blithe County Fair
Warm the night with bright crescent Moon
Fiddles three an old Spanish tune
Sweet Greta Lee has captured my fancy
Step and whirl at Blithe County Fair
Youth and Eros moment of bliss
Rose glow her cheeks I offer a kiss
Though so demure she yields to temptation
Found my true love at Blithe County Fair
They say forgive and forget.
I forgave without a thought,
But how could i forget?
Forget your smile,
Forget your face,
Forget your love,
Forget your name.
No matter what I do,
I can't forget you.
I thought we were forever.
And so did everyone else.
I try so hard to forget.
Forget your smile,
Forget your face,
Forget your love,
Forget your name.
But no matter what I do,
I just can't forget you.
What happened to us?
Are you through with us?
I just hope you can't,
Forget my smile,
Forget my face,
Forget my love,
Forget my name.
No matter what you do,
Don't forget me and you.
Mohamed Bouazizi,
a poor man
who sold produce from a cart,
in a country bleeding from the open wound of corruption,
got up that morning
expecting to do nothing more
than support his family with the sales he could make
selling his fruits and vegetables.
He played the game like any Wall Street banker.
Buy low and sell high.
Unlike Wall Street he faced heavy regulation.
Unlike Wall Street he was physically
slapped
in the face.
Unlike Wall Street... Mohamed Buoazizi had no power.
He tried.
He tried to find some power.
He ran to the governor's office in an attempt to get his electronic scales back.
The doors were closed.
No one would listen.
"If you don't see me, I'll burn myself."
Mohamed cried.
This... was his only power.
He walked down the street.
He bought a can of gasoline.
He walked back to the governor's office
and stood in the middle of the street.
He screamed,
"How do you expect me to make a living?"
And then he set himself on fire.
Mohamed Bouazizi's last breath
was the birth
of Tunisian Winds.
Mohamed Bouazizi
was not one of life's winners.
He was only trying to support his family,
And live a decent life,
Like so many others.
But listen!
Because of Mohamed Bouazizi
something's growing.
Tunisian winds!
There's more to life
than being a winner
and so often the winners
they forget
that their world is built
on a multitude of shoulders,
a sea of blood,
an ocean of human sweat...
the shoulders, the blood, the sweat
of men and women
like Mohamed Bouazizi.
Tunisian Winds blew along the shores of the Mediterranean.
Tunisian Winds blew through Egypt and Libya, through Oman and Yemen.
Tunisian Winds blew through Morocco and Lebanon.
Tunisian Winds are blowing.
Tunisian Winds shook the banners in Zucotti Park.
Tunisian Winds are blowing.
Sometimes they seem to go still. But they are still blowing.
They just keep blowing.
Tunisian Winds
Tunisian Winds
Tunisian Winds
My soul has a hole in it's pocket
And the pennies, they leave a trail
If you say you want my two cents
Then, come on down
And pick up what I've left behind
My mind has a curtain with tattered ends
And the wind just blows on through
If you say you need shelter from the sun
Then, come on down
And rest your weary head
My heart is beating to creepy tune
And the shivers run up my spine
If you say you need a story
Then, come on down
I have got one to tell to you
My song that I'm singing has no end
And the rhythm is like the sea
If you say you got the blues
Then, come on down
This boat will bring you through
My soul has a hole it's pocket
Bad memories, they leave a trail
If you say you need a fresh start
Then, come on down
I've found the path for you
Form:
"Prays of The Enslaved Soul" (3/26/09/42yrs)
So small, no one can see
just a blackish, ink mark were my soul should be
tearfully waiting to be what i want to be
to move on to greener pastors (pastures)
spilling out the inter me, calling out to the soon to be
just no were to find a clear path, to that thing i call, me
just waiting, and waiting
till i can place one idle dream into a real movement of freedom!
so that when one tear falls from my face, it will roll from the cheeks
of joy and laughter
so, i wait and pray for this day, but most of all
i pray for the strength too wait one way or the other!
aka:lyricvixen
Form:
Gummy Worms
Everybody likes me.
Nobody hates me.
Because I share my worms –
Yummy, yummy gummy worms
Sour and sweet yummy worms
Sitting in my kitchen, sharing worms!
(SHOUT!)
Yummy, yummy gummy worms!
Collaboration by Dane Smith-Johnsen and her 6 year old grandson
Inspired by the Childhood song, “Sittin’ in the Garden eatin’ Worms”
June 13, 2010