Long Folk music Poems
Long Folk music Poems. Below are the most popular long Folk music by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Folk music poems by poem length and keyword.
When I sit alone with my memories
My mind drifts back to the early 60s
When folk music was all the rage
The New Christy Minstrels, Peter Paul and Mary
The Brothers Four, The Limelighters, The Kingston Trio
The Canadiana Folksingers... who?????
A six member group called The Canadiana Folksingers
Included myself and my first wife Linda
Along with two guitar players, a one-string-bass
And I played the five-string banjo
Did we have a blast? Oh yah!
Made an album called “This Land Is Your Land”
And a 45 rpm single called, “Hi Jolly!”
Along with appearances on both
Of the only two Canadian TV Networks at the time
Memories of those days fill me with pride
Can't go back but we can dream
About when we were young
And the world was ours to explore!
Pride flags fly high today
Folk music family
Mennonite bureaus
So many melons and windsocks and dreamcatchers
This place signals a rebellion
Echoing antebellum times, seething with vibrancy and it boiled over
And for a moment broke the inertia
Love wins today and today we know
That we are a people of progress
But koyaanisqatsi waits for us outside this field
Just past these barns
Most of us are forced to march with that army too but
We can build a bulwark here and move it out beyond the dusty paths
It is up to you artisans, Amish, millennials, immigrants, farmers, poets
Today I secretly join your ranks
Breeze brisk on my face.
Air damp from yesterday’s rain.
Just a lass, surrounded by the beauty of Ireland.
The wind whistles over the green hills to its own accord.
The skies' lingering grey clouds promise rain is on its way.
Walking down the road, looking to escape the weather, I stumble upon an Irish man.
Hair as red as a burning fire.
Eyes as blue as a stormy ocean.
Smile warm and welcoming.
Becoming grounded to the current moment, I kindly ask where the nearest place is to escape the coming rain.
In his Irish accent, he responds, “A little further on, lass.”
Telling him my thanks, I continued on my way, coming across a pub.
As I approach closer, the sweet sound of Irish folk music rang out into the street.
Opening the door, I enter the cozy town pub.
Chilled to the bone from the cold, I find a seat right near the fire.
Between the fire and the two glasses of whiskey in me, I could feel the music in my veins, calling me to dance.
With no hesitation, I joined in dancing to the Irish folk music, my skirt twirling around my ankles as if it had danced to this music a thousand times.
My soul is in heaven, surrounded by the songs of Ireland, new and old.
After dancing for hours, sleep was beckoning me. With whiskey in hand, I found my seat near the fire and a peaceful tune lulling me off to sleep.
Indestructible, for Johnny Cash
by Michael R. Burch
What is a mountain, but stone?
Or a spire, but a trinket of steel?
Johnny Cash is gone,
black from his hair to his bootheels.
Can a man out-endure mountains’ stone
if his songs lift us closer to heaven?
Can the steel in his voice vibrate on
till his words are our manna and leaven?
Then sing, all you mountains of stone,
with the rasp of his voice, and the gravel.
Let the twang of thumbed steel lead us home
through these weary dark ways all men travel.
For what is a mountain, but stone?
Or a spire, but a trinket of steel?
Johnny Cash lives on?
black from his hair to his bootheels.
Originally published by Strong Verse. When I was a teenager Johnny Cash used to pop into the Nashville McDonald’s where I worked to buy burgers after the Grand Ole Opry let out. True to his nickname, the Man in Black always dressed in black. I think he’s as immortal now as human beings can become, since someone will be singing songs he wrote and and recorded till the end of time.
Music Trivia: Johnny Cash wrote "I Walk the Line" in 1956. This song, in which he vowed to be faithful to his wife, became his signature song. But seven years later Cash recorded "Ring of Fire," a song about the scorching love affair that caused him to leave his wife for June Carter of the famous singing Carter family. (Ironically, the Carters’ signature song was the gospel classic “Will the Circle Be Unbroken.” Apparently not the one symbolized by Johnny Cash’s wedding ring!) June Carter wrote "Ring of Fire" with Merle Kilgore. Johnny Cash had a dream in which he was singing the song with mariachi horns in the background, which was how he recorded his version of the song.
Keywords/Tags: Johnny Cash, black, hair, clothes, boots, voice, rasp, gravel, steel, guitar, songs, singing, music, mountains, stone, heaven, manna, leaven , country music, folk music, American, Americana, USA, folklore, folk, lore
I barely know how you bear it, I said to the grapefruit
Of course, true to form, she tried to smooth everything out.
I was irked because no words arrived to sooth me.
Which made her easier to eat, actually – more palpable.
Masticating my cereal is never easy these days,
especially when the news is on, so I shut that puppy down.
If it is not good news, I do not need it, especially in the morning.
There was a wreck at 17th and Lamar, as usual.
I see one there almost every morning,
Yet I continue driving this same exact route.
And me, the woman who loathes routine,
Actually living one now. Is it my age, do you suppose?
The car radio is on some 1970’s music but not folk music.
The one channel I had on before my husband drove
And ruined things by changing my channel.
He is going to be eating mothballs for supper tonight.
My girlfriend calls to yack about her dead husband again.
I wish he was still alive so I could beat his ass, she says.
I have heard it about sixty-nine times, still it never gets old
Especially this morning as listen to the wrong freaking station.
Woodstock wild is what the musicians knew
Plain dairy farm in New York, reservation due.
I was too young, alas, or I would have been there.
Loving the music, the ambiance, wild as old dog hair.
Midriffs showing, the crowd was mostly young and thin.
Jumpsuits looked fabulous, no matter who was poured in.
People ate healthy, they were taunt and tight.
Music wafted all over the hills on this Saturday night.
Platform shoes, cowboy boots, sandals, anything went.
Some hitched rides in caravans, that were heaven-sent.
Lots of clean fun while folk music enticed the crowd.
Rolling, rocking, roaring fun, and probably sixteen times too loud.
BEAT MELODIES
boom boom boom a beating of the drum
include a variety of drums, boom boom boom
rattles as the snake dance
Liken baby rattles play,
ring them bells, idiophones.
these be beat melodies Notable
them de play Djembe, Dundun, Gangan, and them de play Sakara, Bata, Udu Shekere, Agogo, and Gbedu These instruments are often used
boom boom boom a beating of the drum
these be beat melodies
include a variety of drums, boom boom boomin traditional ceremonies, folk music, and more contemporary these be beat melodies
boom boom boom a beating for di drum
dis be beat melodies
8/5/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2025©
Just waiting in line to register for college courses.
I did not relish such crowded coarseness.
Then, mon Dieux, my eyes fixed upon you, lost was I!
Your brown eyes, made me feel like I was flying in the rainbows
Of a star phantasmagorical sky.
No, I told myself, I was imagining such things...
But fate arranged our years together, beyond my limited imaginings!
We lived and loved together under sunny and rainy kweather.
We were somehow born to be soul-tethered.
Cooked quiche Lorraine, salads so divine amd kthe best part was,
at bedtime,
This old fashioned girl was thine, and totally shined.
You got me to attend the Old Town School of Folk Music and learned
to play guitar.
You introduced me to Second City, where I was to ibecame a minor
improvisational star.
We studied Baba Ram Das and went to sensitivity trainings.
My life with you was neither boring nor draining!
We blew weed and went to see the "Yellow Submarine", together.
Came out laughing so hard, we walked home in the rainy weather!
You gave me my first cat, Luvey, my first sweet Calico,
Hal, the fantastic, far-out life I had with you,was quite the show.
For my birthday, a book of great poetry ....Kahlil Gibran, so cool!
Thanks Hal, for loving me and never treating me like a fool.
I will forever hold you in my beating heart,
From my inner soul, there is a gem-filled Hal part!
With you, I was forever dancing on freshest air.
We were on the wings of time, a rare, loving special pair!
11- 13- 2020
There's an arch of music
Under the tranquil lighthouse
Glide towards me my beloved
We'll walk on the roads
Beyond that galactic sky
Wrapped under the cozy blanket
Of shimmering little guiding stars
The moon doesn't make a sound
We'll hide behind the cotton clouds
Each molecule will light up
Each one will dive deep
Into the enchanted midnight of our love
That would stay undeterred
Embrace me like sleep does
You'll peep into my heart
With your half-opened eyes
Hiding behind your palms
Like lazy sun rays of a Winter morning
We'll talk of folk music and tales
Beside the warm fire of our love
Where the dawn wouldn't end
And the night would never arrive
The golden dusk would go on
And if dusk ever ends
Dawn would sleep on
That enchanting midnight would go on
Hold me close when I can't sleep
Sing to me the lullabies of our love
My heart seems to be lost
Somewhere in those terrains
And you are still unaware
This anxiety dissolves me
More into you than I am
I have been floating around
In the silent depths of your eyes
And you are still unaware
That newborn pearls spill out
Of the lips of silver seashells tonight
And songs are getting drunk
Over the melodies of the past
The ocean sleeps under the
Blanket of her own waves
Yet I am awake
Drunk and drowsy with your love
But you are still unaware
I await your arrival
Under that arch of music tonight
May 15, 2020
BRIAN'S CHOICE D,any form,any theme
Winner: First Place
In Spain they call it Flamenco
In Portugal it's Fado
It's simple life yet so complex
Heavy but light
Dark but so bright
One can step into a basement or a theatre so large
One can feel overjoyed or supremely depressed
These extremes of emotions are life itself
But perhaps there is that balance when you sit and watch and listen
The click clacking of shoes
The desperate strums of strings
The rhythmic slapping on the cajon
The moans of lost romance
Sip your coffee or Porto vino, or Sangria if you wish
Lose yourself in Iberian folk music
And decide how you want to spend your horas in the dancing abyss