Long Musical score Poems
Long Musical score Poems. Below are the most popular long Musical score by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Musical score poems by poem length and keyword.
Let’s sail away to Acapella,
A celebrity haunt owned by Penn and Teller.
I shall act as your prince, you’ll be Cinderella
When we’re sat on a beach in Acapella.
It’s not as sexy as Cannes or as dowdy as Rhyl
But their choirs and ensembles will give you a thrill,
Acapella compares well to old Casablanca,
As you will observe once we have dropped anchor.
Their libraries don’t hold any musical score,
Acoustic folk singers are considered a bore,
All keyboards and trombones were sold overseas
And whistles restricted to football referees.
So you won’t hear the bagpipes of Kenneth McKellar
Or repetitive bass notes plucked by Paul Weller.
Your voice will entrance all the ladies and fellas
Once we’ve moored in the harbour of Acapella’s.
There fishermen bring ashore haddock and bream
Having sung shanties as a well-rehearsed team,
The salty sea breeze gives their voices a rasp
And the youngest amongst them let out a gasp!
Melodic and manly, the crews ride the waves,
Proud of their seamanship, masters not slaves,
They heed the advice of their mothers and aunties
But rarely acknowledge the source of their shanties.
Once a solitary busker was found in a yacht
And by all accounts he deserved what he got,
He was forced down the plank at the tip of a sword
Then his vintage viola was flung overboard!
On the pier you’ll find orators and callers at bingo,
But no jukebox is pumping out John, Paul or Ringo.
Pop or rock music gives locals the creeps,
It’s no wonder that George’s guitar gently weeps.
So, if Customs Control takes your squeezebox or trumpet
Don’t seek compensation, you’ll just have to lump it;
Those instruments go to a processing plant
Because singers are welcome but musicians aren’t.
We shall seek out the nightlife in numerous bars
Where the locals all sing without playing guitars,
Dodge the Lambrettas in quaint cobbled alleys,
Then stride across hills and along peaceful valleys.
So, if you’re tired of concertos or singles by Queen
Book a cruise to a place where they’re considered obscene,
It’s a magical island owned by Penn and by Teller -
The remote principality of Acapella.
So let us sail forth across the briny
In a luxury yacht - well furnished and shiny
To where your vocal range will be valued quite highly,
And you won’t have to sit through Baba O’Riley.
I’m confined
Weighted
By this body of clay
I cannot soar
On the wings of my dreams
Or from lofty heights
Swoop down
To dip my hands in ocean streams
And then claim again
My place in the sky
Confined
Weighted
By the cares of this world
By my tears
By a world bound in fears
Confined
But then a song
Floats on the breeze
And fills my waiting ears
With the melody of hope
Serenity
Beauty
Liltingly sweet
The musical score, my wings
The notes, my sturdy features
The voice, the wind that will carry me
My soul, the spirit of flight
The music carries me away
I take over the skies
Winging my way to places
That entice and beguile
The hidden corners of my wind
Unexplored…undefined
Virgin territory
Where beauty resides
Unmolested and pristine
Soaring and gliding
As the music plays on
I live my fantasy
I unfurl my dreams
The wind flowing above and beneath
Carrying me...
Beating my wings
I go faster, higher
Then…I spread them wide
Oh, to glide…to glide
On the wind’s caress
To look down and know
My spirit is free
No longer confined
The last note fades away
As my feet touch the ground
Back to life as it was
As it is
As it will be
With one little difference
I have gained the sweet knowledge
That I'm not confined
Every song
Is a promise
Of beautiful dreams in flight
An invitation
To spread my wings
and
F L Y!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Music MOVES me! I can't explain...This poem is SO inadequate...I've just come back from a lovely flight into the clouds of my dreams having listening to this song.....
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=675rLFDc5I0
Yes, it is in FRENCH...I adore this language....An obsession of mine while living in Cyprus was to watch the EUROVISION song contest every May...I was so obsessed I'd even call in and vote! :) My daughter and I would stay up till the wee hours of morning to root for our favorite entries...This song...I've never forgotten. Also, the entry by MALTA...ANGEL...has stayed with me...What would we do without MUSIC? Sorry...got carried away...Can't blog so, put up with me! HUGS!
Imagine DNA as architectural color design,
regenerative blueprint,
but written in fugue fractal songs,
no two exactly identical
except for twins.
Each species shows some shared architectural greyscale function
like staffs holding up a linear musical score
for counting eighth and sixteenth notes
in 4-dimensional realtime.
Each hue and cry species
shares it's own seasoned key
and basic rhythmic nurturing structure
and range of song-scaled nutritional sound.
Animals sing in absorbing hues and cries of red and blue
and hibernate through ultra-violet greyscale early memories
both secular and more deeply sacred
convexly wondrous and concavely awesome
but also at risk of future terror,
WinLose cost cast as predative until mortal prey,
bully until un-organic victimized remains
dreaming in nightmare red inside
without blueprint memories of outside.
Meanwhile, smaller plants and microbes,
flora and brawny dream in green tree shade
and yellow sunlight
pushing out new deep learning roots,
sensitive to which humane divine songs
would favor and flavor us both sacred and secular beauty,
both spirit and nature true animal dynamism,
Nondual ZeroZone dynamics
of blue ahead
and red behind
green in-between
ultra-violet wisdom
of sacred secular animals,
EarthTribe cooperative lovers
reforesting economic and political health justice
both natural and spiritual,
ecological and theological
and sufficiently day/night BigNonBang
everyday DNA romantic revolutions
within dualdark polypathically logical
color-blind dream memories
in ultra-violet sound and green sight
taste and feel
unitarian smell and universally hear
windy redesigns and wintry ocean tides,
red skies dawning blueprints
for well-sung childhood songs.
Imaging DNA
designing color red
generating blueprint
for free fugue fractal songs,
no two green identical
except for dipolar newborn muses.
It was a hot summers day, in our garden in the countryside. Sheltered from noisy
cities and towns. Where we are able to approach life so differently. My girl my love, always
in liberty flow, so enjoying the rays of natures orange orb.
Close by you can hear the cascading of crystal clear waters, eventually reaching
us after negotiating meandering contours. In this heat you can sense the rocks
secretly smirking, as they are constantly cooled by translucent gifts.
On a blanket of green, naked as birth. Her peachy skin delights the vista that
captures my eyes. Her blond hair adorned with a daisy chain tiara. She is my princess
my queen. She lays on her back, looks into the clear blue sky that ceilings our above.
As natures rays are absorbed by her delightful shape. She moves, touches as if in a dream
state. Her body reacting with thoughts of unshared dreams as insects buzz and birds sing
as if they are party to her thoughts. Their orchestral notes, their musical score playing
in symphony to her movements.
In momentary gulps of air, Koi carp rise to the surface to share this vista of pure.
Tails splashing as if they have been summoned to be part of the scene, slapping the water as
if applauding. White water lilies catch the gentle waves, dancing like backing singers
to the sounds of the insects and birds. A gentle breeze catches the tired leaves, as they
whistle their inaudible notes. As insects dodge their sway to carry on their journey of
pollination.
Late afternoon arrives as clouds close the sun, like curtains informing us that the scene
in today's play has ended. Sporadic sounds from distant birds echo, where earlier they were
in riotous volume. The white water lilies are now graced with the gentle undulations of
the trickling waters as the Koi settle from the frenzied applause. Our afternoon closes.
The Irish band was playing on a Vermont Green
People brought their outdoor chairs, it was a charming scene
I got carried away, tried to sing along
But from the looks on the faces, I'd done them all wrong
The band hit a dissonant note, people gave me a frown
I had outworn my welcome in this quaint New England town
I just wanted to be musical, and share my inner beat
But I saw it was wiser to beat a fast retreat
(Chorus)
Oh, I just wanted to share my song,
But every note I sang came out wrong.
I had a need to express my soul,
But negative feedback takes its toll
Tried serenading a seagull by the ocean beach,
He dropped his shell and let out a wild screech.
Even the whales dove deep to flee my tune,
Neighborhood dogs started howling at the moon
I sang in front of my mirror, like a wounded cow
The landlord came by, said you're evicted starting now
I took my bags, went to Montana to sing
I had to express my muse, to do my own thing.
I let the notes float in the big sky air,
All of a sudden I was charged by a grizzly bear
It was enough to make me want to weep
Then from the other side, charged a bighorn sheep
I climbed a tree, and the two animals left me alone
It was nature in the raw, I filmed it with my phone
Put it on YouTube, got ten million views
And for the musical score, I sang the blues.
(chorus)
So whatever your passion, go share your song,
Even my misadventures didn't go wrong.
As a YouTube influencer, my star has shone,
By persisting among skeptics, I've found where I belong.
Now I join a choir of frogs down by the creek,
And with my first croak, they also want to speak.
I made another nature movie, set to southern soul
Got the Nature Film medal, Now I'm on a roll.
Won the Sundance most authentic soundtrack in a poll.
(instrumental)
The Uniforce
turned through our faces
we watch a clock to keep the meaningful places
running, turning hands amok -
in small space while we stand still.....
we used this cold embrace of urgency
to till ground -as the machines they became -
Too loud, in such close
proxy and to leave ourselves like fire, in a forge,
like the hearth beating embers in pulse
of our scourge; became something not enough
to counter the membrains purge, its member and its revenanced divulge.
In the Overdark, under darkly ?
the midnight coursed to the ghastly fades,
the air and a ghost's light
hath half to have made, crystal flux,
crystal hearts with undertakers spade.
A strange aeon is sent tronicly frozen in senced rage.
We might think we'll die too fast -
too much death fro technology of lusts
for our heads, to crack like eggs against
the falling oblong pressures of space religiology.
Wombed in purgatorious lessons
Into the vast emptiness amassed lesions.
Everything, again, we are made to be- together
in our Repress.
The locked-ness of Legion, to be held just right
up to the light until we can best, turn the page,
lest we shatter our bones with gauged
rolling radiate candleflicked in signature of sway,
passing, the litmus test alkalined aright.
With headlamp eyes
of neon pierce through the sky,
vamped sentinel heart s indicates pure its storm
to settle in strata newly bore.
The air is heavy, polltry.
Its fury pounced upon the rite,
a Gutter Play Musical Score D.
A chill of emptiness curtains the stage.
Whats more? we ride into the mind, petrified,
stoi'd out of Time,
StillBorn waiting upon....Abide...Abate...to Find...
I’ll dance to your tune
Letting your rhythm flow through me
I’ll let your hand guide me
Your heart setting the beat
I will dance to your tune
Sometimes a slow dance
To fit your flirtatious mood
Sometimes a quickened pace
When your heart is racing
To capture the days
You were the King of the dance floor
And were adored
Recapturing the splendor
You show me off
As I twirl
Your girl
On this dance floor
Sometimes I'm held tightly
Sometimes at arm’s length
I’ll dance your dance
To the tune of your needs
Knowing you set the scene
According to your schemes
To fit your desires and dreams
I’ll dance to your tune
I will let you take the lead
Though my heart is encaged
And longing to break free
To dance to it’s own tune
To its own passionate beat
A wild musical score
That sets fire to feet
On a dance floor of desire and heat
A rhythm thunderous with longing
Booming in loudness that defies
Every other thought except...
this dance...this moment...this chance
A dance demanding fusion of bodies
Faces a mere breath away
Hearts taking turns at will
In one liquid movement of burning heat
A rapturous oneness
Rythmic frenzy
That makes everything else
In this dance hall fall away
They all stop and stare
As our dancing souls we bare
I accepted YOUR invitation to dance
YOU lead me to this dance floor
YOU held onto my hand
I will not stop dancing till you do
I will confine myself
My arms and legs obeying
My heart slowing its pace
To fit the steady beat of your own
Against my chest
My whole body in surrender
To your rhythm and pace
But oh…oh how I wish
My rhythm could light up your face
How I wish.....
I could teach you to dance...
To my tune!!!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
I have a strong need to elucidate my unfathomable love for
You,
named JAZZ
The improvisational sound of ragtime and jive.
Bop to the bebop of your rhythmic stride.
O what you do.
You,
named JAZZ
As I rouse everyday to harmonious sounds.
Melodies of synthesizers playing, sotto voce, with Caribbean tinkling drums in the back
round.
The speech of angels they say, basks in my head,
as I take in the symphonic aftermath of every lyrical word you've ever said.
Its all about you baby,
named JAZZ
A conscious need to grasp the soulful nature of your exemplary existence.
I find myself in lifes conservatory alone,
mindful of the studies orchestrated deep within.
Rhythms and beats, adagio and bold
Playing every note by ear as our souls overload.
Do you really know what you do?
Yeah you,
named JAZZ
Got me studying Musicology,
when it should be Phraseology.
Got me humming to a melody,
while paraphrasing unintelligently.
Cacology!
Thats poor pronunciation, if you don't understand.
Damn I'm still bouncing to the compositions of this mellifluent man.
I'm an astute sister, perceptive and wise.
Unmistakably creative in every word I devise.
But I lose control,
over you,
named JAZZ
Our hearts conveying beats per measure,
as they bridge between the gaps.
An opus of pure euphonic ecstasy
An arrangement of choral taps.
Can you see what I mean?
Incomprehensible I know.
But in this melodic finale.
His musical score steals the show.
A thrilling communion, with a primitive soul,
Fusion
between me
and you
named JAZZ
So now the tale has been told.
Form:
JOURNEY- 1995
Weren’t we hauling ass?
The sheep, the olive trees, sentinel windmills,
the woodlands and fields, the rivers, the creeks,
the undulating topography like the musical score
of a landscape melody riding on the rhythms of
a percussion ensemble of steel wheels and rails,
the white-light blue sky of Castilla-LaMancha
blowing by us like a film on fast forward
Draped over his seat, easing into sleep,
his form and demeanor were a narrative sculpture,
a cold rocky coast of beauty and grace chiseled
by storms so far out to sea that no one can see
and even at rest his body was somehow too fluid
for his clothes
Once envied and loved, he had learned hard
lessons, had crafted his life as a righteous
extension of his parents’ investment in a labor of
love, forged a hard resiliency in recurrent encounters
that had blistered his soul but melted his anger with
the purifying precision of a refiner’s fire on the
Day of the Lord
And he’d discovered a woman who wore long
loose dresses on a classical body, who painted her
toes, worked magic in the garden and rekindled his
love like renegade lightning in a drought-stricken
wood
As train moved south, the bright day receded,
and as the September moon dropped cool silver
light like a fine lace mantilla through the craggy
brown summits of the Sierra Morena,
I thought of my friend as like the big locomotive
that pulls the “Garcia Lorca” from Barcelona to
Granada: A powerful presence regardless of
conditions, quiet, electric, always at your service!
Emanuel Carter
The Plight of A Sage
Elegant tidings fortunate for the small price of a
few
Prevalent findings of more barbiturates as they confiscate the news
Relevant perceptions among the constituents while they sit obstinate and confused
Negligence blinding innocence as they are tightening the screws
Immersion of a mind totally refined in subjects that are above verbal dictation
Coercion of mankind in this double blind computer simulation
Conversion of the signs as I’m confined in this inextricable situation
Subversion now in theoretical decline as the propaganda train has left the station
Monumental shifts in attitude about the latest topic to start the fighting
Consequential lifts in altitude as the heavens send down lightning
Transcendental bliss then platitudes during the spiritual brightening
Instrumental riffs of exactitude as the musical score sounds more and more frightening
Calling forth from solitude a wounded wing of the soul expression
Falling north from the misconstrued effects of the intercession
Enthralling courses force me to conclude that I’m heading for another personal recession
While appalling horses of revelations preclude the need for Divine Intervention
Contrite and solemn contained in my emotion as the insight slowly fades
Tonight I’ll sing my refrain beside the ocean as the water laps and wades
So bright it illuminates the commotion while my plight mimics a sage
Moonlight obfuscates my devotion as I turn to the next unwritten page
The End Copyright Elizabeth Moroz