Long Instrumental Poems

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


Feel Me

I do it for the boys, the girls, men, the women,
plus Allah's unborn children look how I'm living
it's similar to, your situation no money making,
just chips and egg crates in front the Playstation.
Cable's late again my real friends know my struggle,
a rough 9 to 5 plus supplying studio time is my hussle.
It's just my father, Jibri, and I shacked in a shack
shackled to a broken home with no
welcome mat get back.
Everysince my mother left the building,
the feeling ain't the same pain is building
rain is killing the window pain.
Winters are harsh man, but I can take it though
as long as I'm wrapped up in these blankets
I'm a make it man.

I do it for the emcees, the djs, the b-boys, the b-girls,
hip hop is a growing culture plus it's a free world.
Free to manifest expressions,
free to rep your section focused over nice composures
flowing until the night is over.
Don't be like me just be like the music you like
use right rhyme and reason choose nice lines and preach them.
Watch the ones leeching watch who you be with frequent
cause you can end up with your dreams slowly sinking.
Only you can make it in this, it's a business,
forget the fame listen use your senses don't be senseless.
Be patient and grind hard if waiting to shine start
slanging tapes on my block & your block it don't stop.
Hit up every spot around,
it's a milion of us trying to get a milion bucks and
chill in a vila feeling the cool breeze.
I'm am who me.
the same easy dude speaking jeweles
do you I'm a do me.

I started off young with a pen and a pad lyrics I had
before that I scribbled on scraps forget about class.
Entered school thinking of rap,
grades sinking in math
twas either skip, go home, or sit in the back.
During lunch I read what I wrote
they said it was dope, within battles
no one put Bomb Threat on the ropes.
Six years later I.....left to go solo felt I was hopeless
in a group that wasn't hungry only one supplying money me.
Then the south was united, two years later divided
but Mama Glo, had the best ideas,
but I, down no man no way no how
cause if you make it in this game from the heart I'm proud.
FLA I will make this official rake up a pencil
for Jenah's sake I'm a make it
and mention you on an instrumental.
That's a promise I'm honest, show me love back
hold me down
southside is us you gotta love that.
Form: Lyric


Premium Member Second Fiddle

I once knew a teacher who occasionally used the word ‘fiddle'.  If perhaps he deemed something untrue or irrelevant; or if annoyed by students or otherwise disagreeable, he would simply say, “fiddlesticks”.

In the instrumental world of music, a fiddle is a violin. Have you read that Emperor Nero fiddled while Rome burned? And I once heard about a musical called, “Fiddler On The Roof”. But this is not the kind of fiddle that presently occupies my brain.

In nautical usage, a fiddle is a frame or railing on a ship’s table to keep dishes from falling off in rough weather. But 'fiddle’ of the high seas is not what I’m thinking about.

There’s such broad usage of a most simple word. Very interesting.                                                                     Why, this most interesting word also addresses, ‘waste of time’.                                                                                                It also refers to being in excellent health, like ‘fit as a fiddle’.

O forbid that I should fiddle like Nero and ‘let things burn’.                                                                                                              May I always be productive, never given to ‘wasting time’.                                                                                                  But let me be energetic, useful, caring, and ‘fit as a fiddle’.

The word ‘fiddle’ also expresses one acting in a subordinate position,                                                               such as, ‘play second fiddle’. Finally! This is the ‘fiddle’ that I am talking  about. If you have always been on top and driven to be number one or else,                                                             then perhaps the two spot is not for you. If you said 'no' when offered a                                                        VP position, or if you would never show up for a 6th man award, then                                                second fiddle is not a good fit for you. Nevertheless, at some point, we all  must ask the Gatorade question, “Is it in you? ” It took me a while.

After many years, I discovered a pattern in my life, and have come to believe that the pattern revealed the purpose of my life. Understanding my purpose
brought great peace.
cj02122014 PS Post 01082018

Premium Member Book of Souls

 
Inspired by the song, The Book of Souls
by Iron Maiden

Below is my version.

__________________ 

Instrumental Intro

On a journey to find the book of souls
the way is very long and quite dangerous
in a meditation ... I am falling into the darkness
down, down, down ... oh where will it end

Finally, I stop falling and I am in a strange place
where fires are burning and winds are howling
alert and aware of a man rising from the ashes
I will be your guide he whispers

Distracted by his beauty for a moment
I failed to see the monsters in this hellish place
as imagined in Dante's Inferno  ... horrible creatures
and I cringe as a huge two-headed snake slithers by

I swallow my fear and speak to my guide
telling him that I am seeking the Book of Souls
why he whispers ... and I tell him that I would like 
to see if my name is in it or not

For in a fortelling
in a dream vision
in a revelation, was told
seek the Book of Souls

Seek the truth
beyond the sun and moon
and in the depths of hell
seek the book of souls

I tell him that I have been taught on earth
the importance of the cycles and phases
of planets and and stars swirling above us
of the fear of hell that beckons below
of a list that Satan keeps in a book

Satan watches the cities growing on earth
the high rise buildings reaching heavenward
and the weakness of humans and the strength of some
he whispers, you are strong to journey here my dear
perhaps the book you seek is a book of lies

I ask my guide, why are your here
you seem like you do not belong in hell
he laughs and the sound gives me shivers
as his beauty fades away to reveal Satan

For in a fortelling
in a dream vision
in a revelation, I was told
seek the Book of Souls

Seek the truth
beyond the sun and moon
and in the depths of hell
seek the book of souls

Instrumental Break

And I realize that he is Satan, the invader of earth
the trickster who can take any image to lure
he is the destroyer of humans, the collector of souls
and he is holding the book of souls

Death is a journey we all must take
will we fall into the darkness, down and down
or will we fly heavenward above the clouds
but still I wonder is my name in the book of souls

The book of souls ...
              then, I am back
Form: Lyric

Elysian Killing Fields

Your Elysian Killing Fields-
Your soul, my Love,
is the pristine gilded white,
that cascades down from Heaven's summit.
A river that fills me, a dry riverbed,
with your milk and honey.
Your current carrying me along,
to your eternity.
Eternally, flowing along,
your emotional streams,
towards your heart's tributary.
A maelstrom of passion,
pulling me down into your pools,
solitary actions.
In solitary enormity, destiny-adjoining.
You are my clandestine pulse-
that regulates my being,
with sacred verse.
You are the specter in my blood.
The scepter of my throne,
With you I can believe, in anything,
except for being alone.
Anything, everything you do.
Winds around me as a grapevine, entertwining.
The seduction to drink from your cup.
The ambrosial wine, your overflowing,
flowing into me.
Your passionate canvas calls to me,
to sculpt in its delicate flowering.
In hungered heaves,
when your rib cage expands.
Anticipating,
your Dove's-wanting to be freed.
Only, by my hand.
Free as the flame's flare,
the burning, consuming.
As I stare into you,
feeling your Crimson Fires, there.
Feeling as though, stalked prey.
In your Elysian Killing Fields.
Euphoria in sway,
atop your succubant meal.
My fate's threshold, crossed and sealed.
Helpless to your Impish ways.
I remain held, by your captivating allure.
The intoxicating poison of your capture.
Poison of your angelic tainting,
that runs through me,
clouding evermore.
The Conductor of the chemicals within me.
You entrench, your surrounding,
that abounds around me.
The Ballerina of the Little Death.
In sourcery, comes,
seduction's breath-The dance- of the seven veils.
Perpetual, into hunger's ballet,
which permeates, the skin,
burroughing its ethereal entrails.
You're always a puzzle,
a timeless wonder,
always to be.
The first of my needs.
If you turned to be the Devil's Daughter.
I fear he would have me, indeed.
My Love, the other part of me.
With this dream-
I pledge my Love to thee.
Yes, you are the ghost within my wings.
I am a phoenix rising from the sea.
Bring me out into your spring.
where I will drown,
in your farthest reaches.
Life to me, you will endlessly be instrumental in, as the Lords revival brings.
The Elite warrioress from Elysia to
Elate me, inflate me to Life from my dreams.
Form: Rhyme

Your Finest Hour

Your path to achievement is surely met with obstacles
But understand they are instrumental to your success.
Though you are meant to compose your own chronicles,
You must have confidence in your world’s silent process.

You can live your life in your own terms and conditions
But many doubts you will have to confront and sustain.
You will have to face many concerns and complications
But not give yourself time to apologize for it or complain.

Struggle and pain remain everyone’s lot to go through.
You can take them as misfortunes or lessons to learn.
The choice is yours to take and the consequence of it too
But remember that hard times await you at every turn.

Help might come from the most unusual of all places
And accept it you must, whenever it presents itself.
Be grateful when it comes from many unknown faces,
And feel blessed if it springs from within yourself.

What might need your full attention is the voice inside.
Stay still and hush the chatter disturbing your peace.
If you care to listen, it will bring the answers required
And provide for a much appreciated and sweet release.

You will be free to follow your own personal aspirations,
Regardless of strange discontent or misplaced envy.
The road you’re treading is dignified by your inspirations
And will boldly guide you to your envisioned destiny.

The sins of your fellow man are not to be endured or shared.
You have your own to worry about, hold in check or fight.
Countless efforts will be deployed and your mind prepared
Until your efforts are rewarded when the due time is right.

You must see your goals accomplished. Make it your duty.
Persist in your efforts and accept the barriers as challenges.
Never accept self-imposed limits. It’s your responsibility.
Make persistence your creed and accept the critical changes.

Mistakes and fears will certainly join you along the way.
Don’t be angry or afraid for you set your mind to victory.
Whether you look inside or look up in the sky and pray,
Your inner light will ignite; your concealed divine energy.

Find the strength to conquer the fiends battling for your soul 
And you will discover a grander plan and harness its power.
Your vision will be much clearer, much wiser your control,
As, unbroken and unashamed, you will live your finest hour.
Form: Rhyme


Stop Child Labor Now

Why subject them to danger and risk?
If they represent something so special
Why not attend to them with such brisk?
Especially, when things look crucial
Every child is an important element
It’s been my intent to save every child
Come on, this is not an experiment
I am stopping it with every effort in wild
I am so determined to stop this train
Hopefully, I am not alone but in a team
Working to stop child labor again and again
Oh yeah! That’s also my dream
Please just help get the message across
We are here to help carry the cross

 

The time is very due!
The time to stop it all
Time to stop this bad act.
The act of child laboring.
Set the children free.
Save our future leaders.
Save them from suffering.
And save our dear future.
Nourish them with much care.
Give them the needed attention.
And Stop Child Labor, stop it now.
Stop it completely, stop it for good.
This is only one way we can.
To save our wonderful future

 

I can see only one way
Only one way to save our tomorrows.
The children we see today,
Are the instrumental future leaders.
Perhaps they are the hope of the future.
With arms in arms, wake wild and bold.
That we may soon arrest this saga.
The little children, our future heroes
Suffers a lot and we can testify this.
It is most happening in Africa.
And far in the corners of Asia
Save them from risk and danger
Make life live wealthy for them
It’s our very very responsibility
To protect the future leaders

There has been several efforts.
I know many people are hard on it
Deep in it with all arms widely open
Wild in it with all eyes watching over
Just to bring this child labor thing to a stop

I know brethrens and sistrens across the globe.
Who are working with real energy
To put this child labor thing away.
Ranging from the United Nations'
Conscious and sub conscious efforts.
Through UNICEF and other wings
To save the future leaders everywhere.
Just can’t refuse to regard that great work
Also the relentless efforts by corporate bodies.
Such as NGOs, Governments and other institutions
That fights every night and day across the globe.
To save the future of our precious world.
Just can't imagine the world of tomorrow
All so without the children of today.
Now the call is clear and loud
Wake up and join in the fight
To Stop Child Labor Now
© Simon Amu  Create an image from this poem.

Without This

Inspired by "Synth moments" 
instrumental.
Green tape instrumentals 
record by Evidence of Dilated 
Peoples.

Without this! All is... completely 
senseless,
Competing myself in search for 
enhancement,
Without this! Light dims behind 
the eclipse,
Without this! I don't even know 
what else there is.

I am! Defined by my own set of 
values 
Still keep denying the option of 
failure
Withstand! Against the odds I 
progress
When plot plans don't choose to 
settle for less 

When a poet writes all around 
is illuminated
Would've never traded that 
away nothing is greater
Gift granted to develop one 
masters in time
Swift to fall these stars ain't the 
ones to shine 

Word is the strongest as he 
goes with it
Moments like that are greatest 
achievement 
Vocab's not depleted "au 
contraire"
Never did stop! Never will! 
solemnly swear!

Kickstart frozen heart, blood is 
pumping
For the love of this music it's all 
or nothing
If a spark dies down that's 
something to miss
Without this I don't even know 
what else there is

Without this! All is... completely 
senseless,
Competing myself in search for 
enhancement,
Without this! Light dims behind 
the eclipse,
Without this! I don't even know 
what else there is.

I stand! Through the hardship, 
without complaining
Steadfast with my feet rooted 
into the pavement
Barricaded, secure the 
perimeter bravely
Hold ground till the very  last 
threat is eliminated

Chose to go against the force, 
stay on course
Geared up & when it's time to 
settle the score
Ready for war, if it comes down 
to blood shed
One shot neutralizing the 
enemy threat

Simple as that - it is, when it all 
comes naturally
Sleepless nights to get this far 
gradually
When in silence your heart is 
the drum 
And inside you shine bright like 
the ray of the Sun

Thoughts collide, you try to 
pick the right words
Feel alive! The muse giving you 
the burst!
When it's gone... hands on the 
clock freeze
Without this I don't even know 
what else there is

Without this! All is... completely 
senseless,
Competing myself in search for 
enhancement,
Without this! Light dims behind 
the eclipse,
Without this! I don't even know 
what else there is.
Form: Verse

Premium Member Penultimate Prefix of Passion

As the final glimpse 
of the sun leads into 
an everlasting spectacle 
of twinkling dreams, 
peeking through 
    turmeric traces 
of an amber aftermath, 
I listen to the 
nesting nightingales
    croon nostalgic lullabies, 
and search for a 
celestial ray 
that would illustrate,
the beginning  
of
   butterflies 
    within 
my glass heart.

When twilight is 
just a 
   mere mirage 
in the distance of 
my destitute mind,
and tune 
  of your
    laughter 
    reverberates 
  in rhapsodic refrain;
a raspy rhythm 
        ringing 
 through
  rustic breeze,
whilst the 
   whistling 
       wind waves 
    to the
dandelions 
      dancing
   to your 
delicate drumbeats, 
scintillating stars 
fall upon 
    our silhouettes, 
scattering pieces of 
who I once 
used to be-
within pulsating 
flesh and bones,
   before I felt the 
warmth of your 
     cosmic whispers. 

Now initials of 
your amethyst
song is the 
    penultimate prefix 
to my path 
        of   
           healing,
where  
  sentimental sighs 
between us,
unveil 
   wordless 
smiles electrifying
a classical crescendo;
awaiting beneath 
      instrumental wings.

I count the  
    flickering jewels,
splattered across 
nocturnal  
    night-skies,
questioning if this 
is  
another 
      start
of a 
   weary winter? 
or is this just 
a seasonal distraction,
intoxicating my 
   procrastinating pen, 
or is your voice a 
heaven-sent elixir,
to soothe the satanic
seas evaporating 
black salt-
drizzling toxic rain,
upon my  
     porcelain choir,
synchronizing  
      a symphony
of soulmates destined 
to 
   reunite and rewrite
a 
  roseate rendezvous. 

Maybe,  
  fate reignited
to align 
  the emerald
glow between
you and I,
Maybe, I’ve long 
been a wanderer,
on a quest to reach
the rainbow  
             swirls 
above your  
     musky garden,
where background  
          music is 
the poetry woven 
from your  
      cryptic ink.

You’ll always remain
the   
   last maestro
in my carnival  
        of chaos,
amidst the loudness 
of screeching demons
chattering within every
darkest sheet of 
dreary December.

Premium Member Admirable People

alone inside with me, less than inspirational

  so look out for the more interesting folk

  momentary excitement, the fiery motivational

  beyond the familiar, to stoke and provoke

  daydream departure from mundane conversational

  adventures cocooned in my warm cosy cloak


  cool charismatic characters, charming skills to admire

  the wily wheelers, the dubious dealers

  the mighty movers, the shuffling shakers, to these I aspire

  delvers of science, the body-mind healers

  frisky purveyors of seduction spray fuel to the fire

  risky game chancers, the common sense stealers


  suspenders of disbelief, poetic weavers of word

  jovial jugglers of juxtaposition

  addicted acquisitors, spinners shifting the absurd

  fabulous fakers, deceptive magician

  image presenters, dark or backlit, focused or blurred

  sculptors of form, instrumental musician


  composers of melody, glorious singers of song

  whatever the stage, great performers of art

  athletic achievers stretching stubbornly strong

  rhythmic dynamo dancers moving close or apart

  food-feeding salivators, their tasty pleasures prolong

  delightful set dishes or delicious a la carte


  whether imbibed on its own or in good company enjoyed

  the brewer, the vintner, the masters of malt

  innovative designers, architects of structure and void

  the philosopher's stone, comfort-zone assault

  insightful free thinkers, long-held paradigms destroyed

  tall storytelling teachers without fear of fault


  mathematical manipulators of numbers and code

  quantum diving or high-flying to the stars

  engineering fabricators, tunnel, bridge, rail and road

  crazy drivers and loop-turning avatars

  tinkering technicians, ecologists with wisdom bestowed

  planners of protest, the remover of scars


  inspirational givers, those with just the skill of their bent

  empathy crossing over to be by your side

  the meek, the afflicted, those who can ill-afford the rent

  the refugee fleer from our wars worldwide

  safety seekers, brave rational people with lives to augment

  as we build indifferent walls... hope denied!
© Ian Love  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Verse

Practical Reason

Scholars who took part in the last conference
On logical judgments and system of reference, 
Following the instrumental rationality, consumerism,
Cultural industry under economical anew fetishism,
Rested hanged on the sky of their great expectations.
But, all their sophisticated speech hid big temptations:
Some discovered America in loveliness and loneliness,
In a touching balance between skepticism and happiness;
Peoples from the postmodernism`s cage of our season,
Even monks of cold religion between borders of reason,
Who climbed the heights to bet on their life, men can't
Follow transcendence, by reading duty as love in Kant;
The only song has been burned in those joyful hearts
Of light, when with broken wings, they won grey clouds;
On Anakena, the "leap month" of ancient hot summers,
They counted in large numbers of wonders, of dreamers.
Politicians dreamt the United Europe…under the Asian flags;
And wind of revolutions brought new dreams at their legs;
Kant type of education was singing self`s song as best attempt;
But as valiant love loves duelist from conquest's not exempt, 
The verse has long claws and good determination to stay:
It is desperately hung just at the other side of the grey.
Like addressing to Moai –the statue with long ears
I`m not sure, that from this little distance, he hairs.
The winning contestant of the Tangata-manu egg hunt
Well, first he's in the background, then, he's in the front,
To check if on the world`s egg is written: “Hope”
Or if suddenly, it will roll down from the slope.
If “Eye for eye and tooth for tooth”, the love is knife
That cuts the residual truth and experience of life.
Try to save wild ontology with means at hand:
Is the transcendental way a no man's land?
Bring knowledge and the exchange relation of truth 
To shake the wicked bitter sides in wondering youth,
But timelessness of truth, is always wandering youth,
In metaphysics as 'battle-ground' if words had not been sooth
Read Pure Reason as a 'court of law' for good tomorrow
Else, each verse in my stanza is but “Guilt and Sorrow”.
If you don`t read the pair verse from William Wordsworth
For:”Clear and open soul, so prized in fearless youth…”
Form: Rhyme

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