Long Concert Poems

Long Concert Poems. Below are the most popular long Concert by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Concert poems by poem length and keyword.


The Concert

THE CONCERT

The members of the orchestra had each gone to his chair;
The audience was waiting now for the conductor there.
And when he stepped on to the stand, applause was heard, and then
He lifted up his white baton and music soon began.
It started out quite beautiful, each person played his part,
But soon some went on their own way; they thought they were 
	more smart.
Some put their music on the floor and stopped playing at all,
While others stared around the room at all the lights and walls.
Some started playing other tunes, some played too sharp or flat,
Some even talked among themselves, some even got in spats!
The leader was beside himself, not knowing what went wrong,
For he had planned this concert night for oh, so very long.
And now he was embarrassed by the actions of the band;
He tried to calm confusion there by raising up his hand.
The members of the orchestra just went their separate ways
Each thinking they were doing right with music they did play.
The audience was quite disturbed, for what they came to see
Was surely not a show like this confusing, sad melee!
This story is a parable of Christendom today:
We started out as one in Christ, but each went his own way.
Denominations, sects, and cults, all claiming to be right,
But all they do is disagree on everything and fight.
We can’t agree which Bible is God’s word for us today;
We can’t agree on how to sing and sometimes how to pray.
We can’t agree on baptism, security, or gifts;
It’s sad to see how very far from early truths we drift!
And some have even now denied the basic gospel truth
That many died for in those days of the church’s early youth.
They say that Jesus was not God, the blood was not required,
Or say that there are other books that God has now inspired.
They say that hell is just the grave, that Mary is the way,
That purgatory is a place where we could go someday.
Yes, many doctrines have crept in; just like that concert  hall,
It’s hard for many to believe there’s any truth at all!
Yet our Conductor wants us back!  We have a job to do!
If we would follow as He leads, what impact we could view!
It’s time we got back to the Lord, Conductor of our life,
And put away these selfish ways and arguments and strife!
It’s time to come back to God’s word, not ideas of man,
And follow our Conductor, Christ, and trust His guiding hand!
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member ONE CELLO AND THREE VIOLINS

We attended a candle-lit concert…with joy and wonder already built in.
It was the music of Adele…performed by 1 cello and 3 violins.

For a little while that evening…if was our aim…our intention…our goal
to allow the candles to light up our hearts…while the music soothed our souls.

Because we needed to be mesmerize, to be enchanted and enthralled…
to put on hold…for a moment…the horrible things our government is doing
to people outside the concert hall.

As we waited to enter we met and talked to a young couple…
they liked Adele but their favorite artist is Coldplay…
This couple was from London, England…(we could listen to them talk all day).

We met another couple and the group we were standing with let out a cheer
when we discovered it was their anniversary…they’ve been married for seven years.

With the aid of Google we helped another couple…who were on the edges of despairing…
by reading to them the correct way to get lip gloss out of the clothes that they were wearing.

Once inside…(we showed up early…we hate to arrive late)
we met up with our niece…attending the concert with her date.

Then we all sat down to listen to the music of Adele played by 1 cello and 3 violins…
and let the music lift us up…and take us to places we’ve never been.

Every now and then I’d close my eyes…then open them before the song was done
only to see a thousand notes floating in the air…landing on everyone.

When I described the people we met that night …the ones listening to 1 cello and 3 violins…
I deliberately omitted any information about what they looked like…
their sexual preference, their gender…the color of their skin.

Because it didn’t matter to the notes onto whose shoulders they were landing 
or to the music…into whose ears it flew….
and if it didn’t matter to the notes or the music…why should it matter to you.

Music sees us as humans…it does not see our sex, gender color or name…
to the notes that emanated from 1 cello and 3 violins…we all look the same.

When the concert ended we did feel mesmerized, enchanted and enthralled…
and we wished this feeling of togetherness and unity…would extend outside the concert hall.

Perhaps that’s what our government…every government needs…before any session begins…
to take a moment…close their eyes and listen…to the music of 1 cello and 3 violins.
© Jim Yerman  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Another Dream

Sounds of morning, fluid undertones, yet cacophonous;
Rhythmic rustling of nearby trees form the baseline for tropical chaos.
Each added layer draws me further into distraction.
I hear the shadowy neighbors breaking their silence,
Attendant to their morning chores.
A distant train chimes in, noisily announcing its slithering passage.

Sounds of morning vie for my attention.
New, hypnotic rhythms spiral close, retreat and then surround me, 
to further crystalize direction for the day.
Can I break into the layers of deepening trance to realize the quiet peace 
of enlightenment just beneath the busyness and violent distraction?

Pairs of red chested robins, lyrical cardinals, yellow flittering finches
each visit the backyard feeder in their turn,
While the brackish pigeons, bullish bluejays and sulking squirrels
noisily muscle their way in to feed among the bird-tossed seeds, 
now scattered haphazardly on the ground.

Beneath it all there is Silence.
Stillness quietly directs peaceful calmness 
to the center of swirling time.
"Just another dream." I smile.

Next door, loud frenzied dogs and deep tinkling chimes 
add their voices to the concert of morning.
Busyness abounds, directing all attention outward.
While the Silence of enlightenment, like a stoic sentinel, 
erectly stands, patiently waiting.
"They also serve who stand and wait."

Copious mirages pass through the early hours, 
rising with the stifling heat, and yet,
Beneath it all I am drawn to Silence.
Yearning for Peace, order, calmness:  where joy and childlike wonder 
view the world through eyes of young divinity and matured praise.

I realize each moment is precious as it passes.
But I know there is only Now.  There is only Here.
As I am here I am everywhere.
And so, I observe as the concert rages on about me.
It is enough to view the contrast within the borders of crystal sanity.
"Just another dream." I smile.

A marble Buddha sits atop a comforting splashing fountain.
It's waters of life spray the arid air with relief.
I wonder what He's thinking, behind his Mona Lisa smile.
What do His closed eyes watch so intently?
Will I ever break through the noise of embodiment
to reach His supreme level of attainment, 
And walk beside Him on His jeweled crystal pathway in the sky?
"O!  Just another dream."  I smile.

The Plain Guy

The Plain Guy and the Beautiful Woman

“Now would you look at that” he said to his Pal at the bar as he nudged his shoulder.  “Look 
at that beautiful woman and who she's with”.  His pal looked over his shoulder to see one of 
the most elegant women he had ever seen, arm in arm with a man rather short, balding and 
rather plain looking.  “He's either got money or a big slong...who knows maybe both.  How 
does a guy as unattractive as he is get such a woman?” replied to his friend who nudged 
him.  “I don't know, I just don't know.”

Hey let's have some fun, come on, follow my lead.  

Hi there,  I'm Fred and this is my Pal Murray.   We saw the two of you come in and well, we 
just had ask you both a question.

The rather plain man spoke up.  “Excuse me but we don't entertain strangers with answers 
to questions we know nothing about.   Your both rude and condescending.  Now please 
leave at once.”

Fred and Murray were not easily dismissed.  Hey wait a minute pal.  We have an important 
question to ask the lady here.

The beautiful woman leaned to her husband and whispered into his ear....and smiled.

The rather plain man spoke up again.  “I believe that I know what kind of question you are 
going to ask.  So let me guess and see if I am correct.”

Okay Pal...go right ahead.....the two men smiled at each other.

“Let's see, you see before you a beautiful woman, yes?”

“Yeah, we do.”

“And you wonder how a rather plain man like myself might attract and yes, even marry such 
a stunning creature, Yes?”

Uh...yeah...that's right.

“And you think I must be very wealthy in order for her to be with someone  like me.  Which is 
insulting to both me and my wife.  Or you think that I might possess a manly tool or both, 
Yes?”

“Hey, we're asking the questions around here.”

“So let me come to a conclusion for you both”.  Said the rather plain man.

“I am a well published author, I am an accomplished concert pianist and I have a genius IQ.  
I enjoy fine art and find beauty in everything I see.  I adore my wife with all the love and 
respect that I can bestow upon her.  And most of all I get her......and she gets me.  Now 
leave before I kick your asses up around your shoulders.”

“Oh boys,”  The beautiful woman finally spoke.  “And he can do it to!  He's a very manly 
man.”
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Walk With Me

Walk these streets with me
Observe the cracked sidewalks
That poor people walk
And rich people balk
Look at the dilapidated strip malls
And broken down concert halls
Once resplendent and representative of the American Dream
Now a bitter reminder of an empire in decay
And it's not okay
But we're living in the ghost of glory
A former empire set on fire
We're in dire but led by liars
Serenaded by choirs of bugs and mice
It was the middle class who paid the price
Whose feelings might as well be chiseled with ice
Because we're melting in the pot
As our dreams begin to rot
With nary a thought from the billionaires
Who will be there but without a care
Walk these streets with me
Look at the hopeless eyes
Starving and fed up with lies
We sold the American Dream
For an American meme
The gears of capitalism keep turning
As the cities keep burning
We greased the gears with blood
And enough tears to cause a flood
Suffering so much we can't fight for our own life
As the media sows seeds of division and civil strife
And when you speak out
They'll break you down and make people doubt
But walk these streets with me
Look at the grafitti on the walls
It's heartfelt and more inspired than what the media calls
Cinema which is just there to distract
From the fact that we're on the wrong track
And even worse on the wrong train
Filled with those who COVID-19 has slain
But if I have your attention folks
Don't forget he who called it a liberal hoax
Look at the fires in California
Look at the water level rise
We're on a path to demise
Look at the hurricanes
Every summer bringing fresh pain
Look at the wealth increases of Bezos, Musk, and Gates
The grass is greener on the other side but this is our fate
Walk the streets with me
And look with me
The Panama Papers
The Pandora Papers
The convenient death of Epstein (he didn't kill himself, did he?)
All to protect the cowards in power
But like the energizer bunny we keep going
And going and going and going and going
Only the batteries are finally dying
And the leaders play games and are lying
Knowing we're running out of time
Just walk with me and look at the grime
Look at the America you don't see on TV
It's where you will see me
And millions just like me
And maybe you'll see this idea that we're free
Is just a fantasy


Premium Member Golden leaves, sheet music written by the unforgiving hand of time

Golden leaves, sheet music written by the unforgiving hand of time,
Fall in the slow rhythm of years that slip away like sand in an hourglass.
We are violins tuned to the melancholic tone of the eternal autumn,
Playing the ephemeral melody of life on the fragile strings of existence.
The mirror of the lake reflects the leaden sky of memory,
Ripples of water intersect with the wrinkles of time on the face of aging nature.
Memories dance in whirlwinds of wind like ghosts of the past,
Like dried leaves from the faded summers of our lost youth.
The scent of ripe apples and the smoke of burnt wood float in the air of nostalgia,
The final symphony of nature before the long sleep of life's winter.
Each note is more precious than the gold in our dreams of yore,
In the final concert of seasons that succeed mercilessly towards infinity.
Trees, people deeply rooted in the fertile soil of the past,
Some still green with hope, others bare of illusions, all whispering untold stories.
We are lost travelers through the park of collective and personal memory,
Gathering yellowed leaves from the album of life that thins with each passing day.
Spring once lied to us with sweet dreams of youth without old age,
Summer intoxicated us with the bright mirage of a promised eternity.
But autumn, sincere in its golden and rusted melancholy,
Teaches us, with gentleness and firmness, the beautiful and cruel lesson of passing.
We are but fleeting notes on the cosmic staff of existence,
Meant to resonate for a moment and then fall silent in the great silence.
But in this fleeting and fragile melody of our limited existence,
We find the heartbreaking beauty of the moment that shines before it fades.
Each autumn is a priceless gift in the crown of years that dwindle,
An elegant invitation to the last dance with the life that still pulses within us.
We gather precious moments like golden fruits from an enchanted garden,
From the orchard of time that shrinks but becomes ever sweeter and more intense.
We breathe deeply the cold and fresh air of the autumn embracing us,
Feeling how we become one with nature in its eternal cycle of birth and death.
In the violet evening silence, we vow to live each autumn with intensity,
As if it were our last symphony in the grand orchestra of the universe.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Remembering the Past

Remembering the Past
 
Tito is Tagalog of Uncle
Tito David Rodriguez and Tito Willie Totanes are very good friends
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Tito David recruited me to Filipino American Multimedia Entertainment (FAME) 
on the 90’s
Tito David is a Filipino model, journalist, actor in FAME
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

 Tito Willie Totanes strongly supports me
He drives me around the bay area
 Uprising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Tito David is Also a base in Anima Christi choir at St. Andrew, Daly City CA
Both of them are supporting me
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Directed by the late Mr. Jesse Pangilinan
Who passed away
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Supported with Mr. Prospero Luna
A Retired Comedian and actor in the Philippines
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Knew by my late father
Mayor Leonardo G. Mendoza
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Mayor of San Pascual, Batangas City, Philippines
Returning to FAME
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

I would sing all throughout the Bay area
Had shows 
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Sang at some Filipino gathering in SF, CA
Concert on October 11, 1998: Outrage on Stage Launching my only Song-Through the Eyes of a Child 
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Would Sing in Karaoke beer house
At restaurants and parties in the bay area
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Sang in Westlake Shopping Center in Daly City, CA
Also sang in Serramonte Mall in Daly City, CA
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Met the Asia’s Song bird of the Philippines
Ms. Regine Velasquez
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

And the Song Writer
Mr. Ogie Alcasid
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Tragic Car Accident happened
On October 11, 1999
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

The late Director Jesse Pangilinan passed away
FAME disbanded
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

As of now a client of Heart Soul’s True Hope
In North County, Daly City, California
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza

God took my singing career and He changed it to Poetry
He changed it to a harder one because I have to learn poetry but I’m having fun
Up rising Star-Ms. Jacqueline R. Mendoza
Form: Ghazal

Invocation of Pinkies In Air When Supping Or Drinking

I adopt dainty etiquette
when quenching thirst or dining
to buzzfeed growling beast
inside me tummy.

The missus requests obedience
raising both my little fingers in the air
upon taking beverage or repast to lips.

Additionally, she also requires I
(well healed husband who toes the line)
perform dance shuffle - think clog
feigning to trip over feet
as if yours truly quaffed to much grog
while balancing atop log.

Miss iz manners re: lee the spouse
sets prime example being lady like,
what with her belching and snorting
of course with mouthful of food
no surprise she nurtured impolite brood
raised on learning language crude

even this Geico caveman exhibits
less coarse attitude,
he likens himself to subdued dude
trying his darnedest (golly gee)
to avoid family feud

general behavior hashtagged as rude
linkedin with antics qualified as lewd
encouraged nsync while
slurping or masticating in the nude,
whereby other body sounds made
unsuitable for strait laced and prude

folks who don't take a fancy hearing
so called uncouth soundclouds exude
out body orifices considered foul,
inapropos and extremely lewd
when unless quarantined in solitude.

One upside of COVID-19
postprandial aural emanations
(all time favorite flatulence)
knows no outward bounds
unless colorectal explosions
register highest magnitude

when measured in concert
with handy dandy
blues clues rattle seismometer
and register courtesy
Richter Scale and the Mercalli Scale
direction and intensity of earthquakes.

Upon experiencing aforementioned prime mate
i.e. the bellowing gal offering herself as ahem
(pardon the double entendre) master bait,
I knew from the get go
Tex-Mex Connection

in North Wales, Pennsylvania
where we shared our first date
(outsize bean burritos)
I tooted my own horn,
she unwittingly got me into checkmate,
just for that her fate got sealed,

when our respective gametes
(ova and sperm cells respectively)
new life we did miraculously create
the first of two female offspring
would become housed in utero
and come to resemble

a spheroid somewhat oblate
even now unnamed counterpart,
(and partner in crime) still swell person
hook hood benefit to lose some weight,
cuz... well adipose freight
quite ample around equator.

Premium Member Death In France

So shocking was that news from France,
we stared at TVs in a trance;
no way to understand.
Those young and old without a chance
were taken down in wide expanse.
Such horror had been planned.

Who could have then foreseen the fate
upon them cast by those who hate?
Just gathered there for fun,
not knowing that their deaths await
while music played and people ate,
their lives were over, done.

Who could have thought ahead that they -
that enemy that wants its way
to change our form of life,
would sacrifice their own to say
that their belief we must obey?
Misguided thoughts run rife.

That Paris scene that fretful night
prepares us now to face the fight.
Define this threat once more
that could erupt within our sight.
Entire world must join the fight
to face this crusade war.


Sandra M. Haight

~1st Place~
Contest: Rime Couee - Tail-Rhymed Verse - For France
Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi
Judged: 01/03/2016

~2nd Place~
Contest: Best Sad Poem EVER
Sponsor: Laura Loo
Judged: 08/29/2016
=============================================
Rime Couee
I went with this pattern for Rime Couee as shown on "The Poet's Garret" website

x x x x x x x a
x x x x x x x a
x x x x x b
x x x x x x x a
x x x x x x x a
x x x x x b

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"The  November 2015 Paris attacks  (sometimes referred to as  11/13) were a series of coordinated  terrorist attacks  that occurred on Friday 13 November 2015 in Paris, France, and the city's northern suburb, Saint-Denis. Beginning at 21:16  CET, three suicide bombers struck outside the Stade de France in Saint-Denis, during a football match. This was followed by several mass shootings, and a suicide bombing, at cafés and restaurants. Gunmen carried out another mass shooting and took hostages at a concert in the Bataclan theatre, leading to a stand-off with police. The attackers were shot or blew themselves up when police raided the theatre.
The attackers killed 130 people, including 89 at the Bataclan theatre.  Another 368 people were injured, 80–99 seriously. Seven of the attackers also died, while the authorities continued to search for accomplices. The attacks were the deadliest on France since World War II."  Wikipedia

This Is How I Feel (You and I/The Damned and Dead/Hell Wants You Too/Hours and Hours)

YOU AND I
You say that your bored and need someone to talk to
I say I miss you and dream of us holding hands, me and you.
You say that I miss you too and you want to see me soon
I write my novel, my songs, riffs and poems like "My Swoon"
You play your guitar and claim you can't play very good
I listen and say that joining a band is what you should
You watch the count down for the concert next week
and I bought tickets so I'll be there and we can meet...
THE DAMNED AND DEAD
(musical break)
You dyed your hair the color that makes me weep
You text me in the night when I can't sleep
My couplet talent can't compare 
to the smell of you in the air yeah
but I
can't leave 
and I 
can't sleep
but I 
can't leave  
You behind
'cause even the dead and the damned
within the life we demand 
I can't go on without...
I won't be in the world 
this time we go and this time we hurl
Explaining won't do
I can't just say I'm in love with you
Hope is something I had now
even with it I can't just allow
Kisses won't help just cover it up
I'm sorry but this is nothing much
But I
can't leave
and I 
can't sleep 
but I 
can't leave
without my mind
and do you want to be with me
we can travel sea to sea
to Paris and Boston together
have the world to our selfs
I wish this would true
'cause I want to be with you...
HELL WANTS YOU TOO
I can't do it 
I can't do it
I can't do it 
but I know you can
I'm your biggest fan
don't worry I'm not alone
Because Hell wants you too
But your too great for that place
and you and I laugh in it's face
but you too perfect for heaven 
and your to great for hell
God or Satan themself wouldn't have made you up
'cause they must have worked as one together
(musical break)
HOURS AND HOURS
I've been siting here forever
but it's only been hours
It's worth the time 
to pull out of my mind
and I Google your name
and It's the same
Facebook, Myspace
I look at your pictures
and feel like a creep
I get enthralled 
and I fall 
with my free-verse 
or my couplet 
or my hours and hours
that I sent on poems
but on this last note
I say "if you won the war stand up"
and nobody can keep up
but heut ist mein tag 
and that's about it
take you time
and kill your mind 
and you can spend 
your time with me!

Get a Premium Membership
Get more exposure for your poetry and more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

Member Area

My Admin
Profile and Settings
Edit My Poems
Edit My Quotes
Edit My Short Stories
Edit My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder

Soup Social

Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us

Member Poems

Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread

Member Poets

Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest

Famous Poems

Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100

Famous Poets

Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War

Poetry Resources

Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter