Music Couplet Poems | Examples
These Music Couplet poems are examples of Couplet poems about Music. These are the best examples of Couplet Music poems written by international poets.
against the cold backdrop of a monochrome sky
resplendent music permeate from a blackbird's sigh
Why did dancing go out of style
I don’t think it’ll be back for a while
Why did rap music become a thing
It’s like listening to week-old refried chicken wings
And when did art degenerate into indoctrination
It speaks to the dumbing down of this nation
Summing things up, I’d say ~
Our culture’s been left to hyenas and vultures
carousel whirls round and round
horses climbing up and down
few riders smiling
most, teardrops crying
calliope’s adversity
three minutes an eternity
Can’t fly, no wings
no voice, can’t sing
Can’t act, no passion
wardrobe's out of fashion
For music, no ear
quit school, no career
Always fall, can’t play ball
so ~ I chronicle it all
Old School Cool (c) 2025 by the Entangled Pair
She's hot, yes, but she's also cool
she is a gem, she is a jewel
I think she's great (and I'm no fool)
she beats those drums like she's old school
she pounds those skins, sometimes it's funny
she hits them like they owe her money
and one thing more I'll tell you honey
she's on that kit whether cloudy or sunny
She's been that way right from the start
plays from the the soul, plays from the heart
she always does more than her part
it's not just passion, it's her art
looking back I am that fool
dug in like a Missouri mule
and if this doesn't break some rule
she's not just cool - she's old school cool
word
No need for a loud background sound,
my howl will raise you up off the ground.
I can snatch you up with my voice,
you won’t walk away again by choice.
Go spill our interstellar secrets,
share there are absolutely no regrets.
Speak of how my taste is addictive,
dramatize every drop I have to give.
You always say ‘You have Moon skin.
Tell me tales of everywhere you’ve been.’
Fall into my depiction of a far off land,
my words you instinctively understand.
Savor a sip of picante’ exotica.
I’m the backbeat, a cappella erotica.
From the Beach Boys on back to Bach
for inspiration, it’s best to leave rock
Unless of course, a rocking chair is meant
in which case I dare not dissent
What happened to the old ‘Do-wop’
piano triplets and ‘bop-she-bop’
Romantic ballads juke-box kissed
disco nights now wrapped in mist
Brian Wilson’s surfboard gone
Liverpool mopheads no more spawned...
New heartthrobs soar, then fade away ~
Beethoven rolled over yesterday
I get pain in my hands
Like my veins want to dance
No music no matter I still have them
They are purple painful muscle spasms
I had to stop playing piano because
I lost interest spasms threw me off
Got a new thrill volunteering at ASC
Spasms I refuse to let you defeat
Not sure there’s a cure for it though
I appreciate pain meds keeping close
Most times I don’t take much at all
Don’t want an addiction so press pause
On all activities that require hands too much
I type with one finger on iPhone my love
What about you do you have a challenge
I know I’m not alone in the world balance
I will pray for you and you pray for me
That we find hope peace and pain relief
2 Corinthians 1:4 “Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God.”
pleading for relief
from the darkest grief
my heart was torn in two
one part light, the other askew
shadows filled my life
there was so much strife
then there came the truth
He loved me from my youth
still as the song of praise
joy that can always amaze
when I let His spirit shine
showing the world He’s mine
there is assurance of grace
oh, how I long for His embrace
pleading for a new hope
wondering if I’ll be able to cope
time seems to move me away
from the moment when I can pray
there is peace that consoles my spirit
it’s the music so alive and I hear it
the world is such a lost, lonely place
only the love of our Savior can erase
the darkness that covers every feeling
blessings come to souls who are healing
pleading for a second chance, a new day
love this alive is love that seems to say…
let go and let God’s voice restore your belief
there is One who is love where you’ll find real relief
[As she drinks nectar from a flower, sweetness from heaven falls like dew
anointed with a gentle rain amidst sun showers she appears as if on cue
Lifting her wings she lands on a Zinnia beneath a tinted sky of April blue
flight of fancy fanning fast, fabulous marvel, she is beauty true on true ~Mystic Rose Rose]
Daylight fades over the glade, as the moon tenderly tucks in the sun,
replete with the fullness of fodder and the fatigue of a
day hard won
Our blue beauty finds a soft place for her weary soul and fragile wings to land,
she falls asleep to the melodies and music of the Moonlight Nature Band
Ladies and Gentlemen, his time came much sooner
Then we could have imagined, now mourning this crooner
On the verge of this pinnacle, about to be on top
I speak of the memorial of one Reginald Belford Scott
Just a statement to the world with this cover
Simply to let us all know they need time to mourn for their brother
All colors, no colors, none segregated
Black placard venerated
From the opening bells tolling, decibels reverberated
To the ending with a rock n roll sermon elevated
A power punch with this Nineteen Eighties driller
Now the second bestselling album to Michael Jackson’s “Thriller”
Yes, it’s plain with an embossed band’s logo
It’s a value (not a hue) as far as artists go
It leaves much to our imaginations
I think that’s on purpose, to allow ruminations
So, here’s some peace for all those who lack
Wait for the headlines, we will be “Back in Black”
Patterns are evident throughout God’s creation.
A nucleus determines the pattern of every cell.
And the seas shape patterns for shores and straits.
Why should stars not have their patterns as well?
A city has skylines of steel, glass, and brick,
As stately as a mountain range of ridges.
Music holds patterns within every chord,
Much like urban waterways feature bridges.
An egg rests snug and secure in its bird nest,
Like a nebula embedded with a protostar or baby sun.
Here the protostar begins its long life,
Following the pattern ancient as the eternal fun.
In the cosmos patterns are not one size fit all.
So, each pattern fits one star at a time.
One for the massive giant and others for small,
Since little stars live longer in the cosmic clime.
Less mass means long life with many patterns,
While the giant’s life is less eventful and long.
Of course, all these patterns are seen only by God,
And serve as aspirations for man’s dream and song.
Banjo
if you want to bruise your ego
try to learn the 5-string banjo
I’m trying to learn Scruggs style
and it definitely is a real trial
three fingered right-handed rolls
is a complete shock to my soul
getting the timing down
so, I don’t sound like a clown
somewhere old Earl is having a laugh
at every time I make a gaffe
if ever I get on stage to play
I would suggest everyone should pray
Yet, I do know a little of the law:
For all its forms but fortify from flaw.
To that which renders beauty must it serve,
Nor from this purpose, may it ever swerve.
From solemn silence, symphonies upswell,
And half the year I’ll dwell in Asphodel.
For I have found that - there are autumns, too,
And ice of winter doth the springs renew.