Long Musical Poems
Long Musical Poems. Below are the most popular long Musical by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Musical poems by poem length and keyword.
This magnificent computer
which resides within our head
How amazingly it reacts
to information that it's fed
No matter what age
we have achieved
New neurones will develop
if practice is conceived
It's said that we only utilise
ten percent of brain capacity
I am aiming to achieve much more than that
forever in pursuit of sagacity
Here are two examples my own I do present
nine months ago began writing poems many edits then were needed
With constant practice a deficiency of skill is superseded
Can now sit for half an hour
a poem will be spawned
Mostly now no editing original poetic thoughts
on paper they have formed
Began these online poetic presentations just four months ago
two finger typing very slow has now increased speed by tenfold
Not sufficient skills there yet to type if I was shackled to a blindfold
What is now an exciting discovery, handwriting
with lead pencil improves brain connectivity
My pencil's always sharpened
like my brain and there's improved receptivity
Listen to music also magic for the brain in 432 hertz frequency
but to play a musical instrument that's even better
Connects left/right brain hemispheres
Don't ever give up! Many neurones there to unfetter
Written: September 1st 2023
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Blithering from the depths, every word I trace
A crimson river of my soul's embrace.
Ink spills such as tears onto a vacant page.
Etching tales of love, joy, and rage.
A metronome dances in sync,
To the music of your soul, a rhythmic link
Each beat resonates with passion and desire.
Fueling the flames of a poetic fire
Fallen leaves create a carpet of gold.
As nature's beauty begins to unfold.
Green smooths dirt between its knuckles,
As life takes root and slowly chuckles.
Multiplying ways, all but bright,
In the morning sun's riddling light.
Booby traps for the uninitiated few
On these paths, only the chosen flew.
Times appease, akin to a gentle breeze,
Piling wafers of moments, memories at ease
Lines of trees sway to a musical tune.
Their leaves whisper secrets beneath the moon.
The vast blueberry moon is humming along.
To our symphony, a harmonious song
Our souls entwined in this grand display,
Creating melodies that will never fade away.
With each word written, each note played,
A symphony of souls, forever displayed
In the depths of our blithering hearts,
We find solace in this artistic art.
The crimson river flows with grace.
As we pour our souls into this sacred space.
The metronome keeps time with our depleted hearts.
As we delve deeper into the magical arts.
The paths we tread may be treacherous and unknown.
But together, we navigate, and we've grown.
The morning sun's light reveals hidden treasures.
As we unravel the mysteries and measure our pleasures.
Your breath pours over my heart
Beating in rhythm, pulsating
Intimacy… delicious tenderness
Whispering through my spirit
Sending thrills of gentle sensitivity
A melody of rich and vibrant
Hues, hesitating through me
Enlightening, enriching, encouraging
Enticing and exciting my dreams
Your breath caresses my very soul
Painting brilliant hues of musical
Notes with inspiration… hope
That soothes and consoles, comforts
My fears and worries, the melancholy
Rains light into the darkest storms
Captures my yearnings with joy
That comes alive on the inside
Because I know you, my fantasy
Your breath penetrates my yearnings
In a silhouette of lacy promises
Bringing my thoughts to the surface
Where I can coordinate them with
Gentle assurance that heartfelt
Opportunities fill up my time with
Brilliant insights into my spirit
Where I can always feel this joy
That comes from knowing you are alive
Your breath warms my heart and soul
Captures my feelings with hope
And leaves me knowing I have been loved
More than I could have ever dreamed of
Oh Mamma I miss you so much
This is all I have left, your treasured violin and my memories
I hug the violin and recall the gentle music you played
Remembering the stories you told of how I would lie in my cradle
You would lull me to sleep with Brahms lullaby
When I hear it now my brown eyes fill with tears
Oh Mamma I miss you so much
Pappa allows me to hold your precious violin
When I do, I feel so so close to you
I can still smell your scent on the chin rest
You had a little blue velvet cushion
I stoke its silky softness and smile
Oh Mamma I miss you so much
Pappa says that you are making sweet music in heaven
The angels must be so so happy
Grand Pappa is getting me my own violin
I will practice every day like you used to
I’m going to make you proud mamma
Oh Mamma I miss you so much…
12~23~14
Contest: Let the music play on – Mystic Rose
~awarded 2nd place~
From Pop Idol to American Idol, the Journey Across the Pond was Worth the Trip.
From the X Factor, Britain’s Got Talent to AGT, the Road has been long and Ever Winding.
Though while walking the streets of Lambeth, and playing in the school yard in Elstree seems like a distant Fond Memory.
You Spent long days at Radlett and later developed a keen intellect at Dover College.
From EMI to Fanfare Records you further developed your Musical Genius and Style at BMG and S Records.
Though I think that the role which will encapsulate the Rest of Your Life, and be Most Fulfilling came to Fruition on February 14, in 2014 with the birth of Your Son Eric.
I Read that you Broke your back, which I can only imagine is very painful.
I know that this is not a Poem, or very Artistic, but I wanted to write to say as a Music and Talent Fan, Thank you.
I Wish for you God’s Richest blessing in the future.
May his Grace, Love, Peace and Understanding abide with You Always.
God Bless,
Sincerely
One of Many Fans
Author Paul Cumberbatch ( September 2nd, 2020)
Once there was a TALL tale
of a young "bluesman" who didn't play very well
Robert was his name
and playing the "Blues" was his game
Hazel Hurst, Mississippi is where he is from
A legend, one day he would soon become
But meanwhile, he would play and sing tirelessly throughout the day and night
The juke joint was his home and his aim was to get his music right
But despite his efforts, his music was not well received
Some said he was too young, others said he just couldn't play, but either way, this made his heart bleed
But he continued as he tried and tried and even cried
Albeit dismayed, he continued to play and bide and bide
And then one day he decided to just disappear
Poof! Gone just like that into obscurity for about a year
To the "Crossroads"
To get light away from his abode
To the "Crossroads"
To discard a heavy load
Yes! To the "Crossroads"
To receive the big goad
Stripped down, naked and vulnerable
Getting downright uncomfortable to get comfortable
He left with six and returned with seven
Many said he cheated and others said it was a gift from heaven
Many still speculate about Robert and the "crossroads."
How could he disappear and return 'great' with musical gifts stowed?
Lavender Massage Oil, Lavender Sheets
The snowstorm doing its very best,
To sneak through the window panes
to our night of play and rest.
The almost musical crackling of our
grand fireplace.
Casting an amber-like glow on your chiseled,
beautiful face.
The armoire with lighting divinely glamorous,
A setting for lovers forever, truly,amorous!
Flickering candles add to our lovers' nest
ambiance.
The piece de resistance is warmed Lavender Oil
making our hearts swirl and dance.
Those magnificent,silken Lavender sheets.
So inviting and what a great and wondrous
Christmas treat!
Good-night, dear world~ here is where
this poem must conclude.
We wish all those in love, a very close,
warm, winter's eve, interlude!
December 12, 2019
Where darkness bleeds its prayers
Over my spirit, blinding me
With the illusions, the images,
Blurred visions of yesterday, betrayed
By the silhouettes of promises,
Unafraid of the cool, clear skies –
Unafraid of the despairing night.
Where darkness milks the moon,
Wiping out the hopes, the dreams,
With reflections of memories,
Bold, vibrant hues of shame faced promises,
Vowing to be silent as the wind who knocks
At the door of starlit floods, flowing
Just beneath the surface,
Of mysteries, puzzling as insanity.
On the verge of darkest dread, doubtful
Beckoning to the silence, still
As the unmoving ghosts, shadows fading
Into the moments, when laughter
Wanes and light erases the night’s brooding
Promises, with a beautiful beyond words,
Beautiful unlike anything I’ve ever heard.
Where darkness shines its glistening black,
Edged in shades of dejection,
Shame faced, the moon risks its light
To survey the destiny, beyond what was fate,
Just as meant to be as the heart,
Who realizes much to late –
The dark will fade, receding into the morning,
Capturing the dew on the roses,
Stirring blessings of sun’s rays in laughing haze,
Misty and musical, like a melody,
Blazing over the heavens, hesitant
Almost as ephemeral as the stars, the glistening
Brief as summertime and hesitating,
Like the moment when love comes by,
And, it feels like – one moment has captured the night,
Invited the grace of a heart who breathes…
In love’s embrace, there is beauty and peace.
There is love that never needs to see…
Beyond what it dreams - it seems – together,
Slow dancing, together…
There is the answer to every need!
The mountain stream chisels a valley
Crystal water dances down in musical cascades
Crashing on the rocky ledges
Splashes silvery drops spiraling high.
They carry the cadenced expression
The stream proffers to the rock and to the sky.
A magnolia tree stands straight on the valley side
The leaves dancing in the rippling breeze
Fall subtly on the ground
Whispering autumn tunes to dew-tipped grass.
They carry the lyrical expression
The tree proffers to the breeze and to the grass.
The verdant valley is full of expression
In search of a poet to write a poem
On the mountain stream that cascades
Around the magnolia tree shedding autumn leaves
For you to be beguiled by their beauty
And be charmed by the rhythm.
The moonlight floods the alley
A young couple in the amorous shine
Looks in each other’s dreaming eyes
The touch of love makes silence play violin.
It carries the unspoken words
The couple says to the dreams and to silence.
The street lamp lights the alley in moonless night
A mother walks like an angel with her child on lap
The child makes sound the mother understands
The kiss mother gives touches the heart child feels.
They carry the mute words
The child utters in sound and the mother says in kiss.
The alley is full of words
In search of a poet to write a poem
On the young couple in the moonshine
On the angelic mother walking with her child
For you to perceive their emotion
And be enthralled by the lyric.
______________
August 15, 2022
For A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Contest
In Philadelphia, in the year 1929,
an actress was born that had a career that was fine.
Grace Kelly, the daughter of Jack and Margaret Kelly,
came from quite a distinguished Irish Catholic family.
Her father was successful as a self-made millionaire;
her brother, an Olympian and town councilman there.
Grace’s uncle Walter Kelly was a vaudeville actor,
and Uncle George Kelly, a Pulitzer-winning writer.
Any film critic would tell you her acting was quite good.
She was one of the beautiful women in Hollywood.
Among her films were, “Fourteen Hours”, “High Noon”, and “Mogambo”,
and Alfred Hitchcock’s “Dial M for Murder” and “Rear Window”.
For “The Country Girl”, she won the Oscar for Best Actress.
In several other major films, Grace made great progress.
Included with “The Swan”, her other great pictures would be
“To Catch a Thief“, “Green Fire” and “The Bridges at Toko-Ri”
Her last film would be with Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby.
This was the Cole Porter musical “High Society”.
Later that year, Grace would marry Monaco’s Prince Rainier.
She retired from the screen and became a princess that day.
Grace had three children, Albert, Caroline, and Stephanie.
With her husband, she ruled the tiny principality.
Grace’s life ended abruptly when she was fifty-two.
Her life was like a storybook fairy tale dream come true.