Music Quatrain Poems | Examples
These Music Quatrain poems are examples of Quatrain poems about Music. These are the best examples of Quatrain Music poems written by international poets.
POWER OF THE IVORIES
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I wrote this poem as a remembrance of my mother. Even when macular degeneration and diabetes took her eyesight, she continued playing her beloved piano. I often sat adjacent to her, watching her arthritic fingers dance pirouettes across the 88 ‘blacks and whites,’ lost in creativity and the music. Her pain temporarily dissolved, and she was at peace in her musical heaven, soulfully content.
She walks into the empty room
and sits down on the stool;
her heart engulfed with grief and gloom
from life that has been both kind and cruel.
She knows that she must persevere
though things seem dark and grey;
then wipes away a single tear
as she begins to play.
Familiar music soon takes flight,
her sorrows start to lift;
and so she plays into the night
and feels the music’s gift.
At last, she plays a soft reprise
and feels her gloom depart;
true solace found in ivory keys
That mended her broken heart!
Beneath flashing string of neon lights
Lining the top of wall and ceiling
Of my room with a window of town sights,
I dance to trance music so freeing.
Beneath me on a table a glowing candle,
As I gently twirl around my room,
I begin to grab something to handle,
Loudly singing while holding my broom.
Beneath me on a shelf is a speaker
Loudly broadcasting trance radio.
I dance until I feel so much weaker,
While I imagine every party scenario.
Beneath me is a carpeted floor,
In which I dance barefoot,
Music blaring through the door,
As I fall and spill all of the ash tray's soot.
What could be too beautiful to describe?
A sunset golden in the western sky.
Poetic words of wonder locked inside.
Music so melodic, it makes one cry.
What is so lovely, it happens unseen?
Thankfulness growing in a grateful heart.
Division of two from an unborn gene.
The passing of passion within the dark.
What words bring peacefulness to solemn ears?
“From all candidates, you're not selected,”
for inner strength will be victor of tears.
“You are cared for and always protected.”
What is so beautiful it deserves praise?
Talent expressed in art, uniquely.
The cherished voiced words of a wise, aged, sage.
Good deeds done to bless someone, secretly.
What thoughts are beautiful while living on Earth?
We move to a purpose throughout our lives.
There's a special reason for our birth.
Beauty is best seen with the heart: not the eyes.
vibrational shifts creates soul’s music
through senses pervading organic form
magnetic heat peaks, heart is delighted
our presence remains centred in the storm
His taste in music feels oh so oceanic.
His touch makes me feel so cosmic.
His voice, like his favourite songs, so angelic.
His mode of seduction makes me so manic.
His place makes me feel so at home.
His city a place where we will gladly roam.
His openness makes me want to write a tome.
His caring nature makes me want to write a poem.
His spirit comes across as so welcoming.
His communication makes me feel a longing.
His smile as warm and bright as the sun shining.
His heart so tender, so sweet, and so loving.
His gentle enthusiasm makes me happy.
His calming aura makes me refuse to be snappy.
His lovemaking always makes me moan softly.
His love for me seems to come so naturally.
Looking for every relevant love song
To make a playlist that is only so long
For the new man whom I now belong to,
To show all the strong feelings he has too.
One step back, two steps forward,
Swing around and do the dance,
Keep it fast, a little awkward
A whole world audience to entrance.
Now you've got them captivated
Up the tempo, raise the heat,
Some may need to be sedated
As they wither from your beat.
Hearts loud-pounding, foreheads thumping,
Gasping air among the shouts,
Doomsayers bleating, markets jumping,
Second guessing, full of doubts.
Quite the showman, what a show,
Media breathless wanting more,
Fans elated, bask in tow,
Others crowing, keeping score.
Just the start, watch him work,
Revelations by the day,
Not all true, surprises lurk,
Act with haste, keep foes at bay.
As for us enthralled spectators
Barely able to keep track,
Cajoled and pressed by paid narrators,
Every week a heart attack.
If we can but drown the chatter,
Keep a cool head, crack a smile,
Train our thoughts to things that matter,
Take the long view, wait a while.
Let the music work its magic,
His gyrations entertain,
Learn that life need not be tragic,
See the sunshine through the rain.
RAI 5/25
It was so silent, thist most extraordiary Spring night!
I closed my sleepy eyes, on my outdoor, jade recliner.
Warm as the embrace of a beloved,summer’s, cuddly.night.
I was awakened by my Brazilian friend, with a gentle reminder.
“Life is no place for sleeping or weepng,you must live for today.!”
I so desired, to tell him, how very wrong his argument was!
But, I looked to my left, he had brought food and wine on a tray.
Comforting and joy, are gifts that only a good friend does!
After some reportage,he inquired of me, if music could I hear.
He continued… “in Brazil, we call it, the “Samba of the Stars”!i
My interest in his philosophy was most intensely piqued.
It was not long before Orion winked our way, my eyes ever set afar!
Beware the dancers who’ve ascended from hell,
who come to the swamp lands or elsewhere at night.
They transfix their victims and try to steal their souls,
causing them to dance with them beneath the moonlight.
If you should be caught by them, focus your mind.
Don’t look at the doom in their soulless eyes.
Pray to your God to help you to escape,
for demons we humans have to despise.
Pray hard, pleading, “Wickedness, be gone.”
To their music don’t let your body sway.
If you die, it needs to be to God’s light
that you let yourself be carried away.
Your life is precious, so take pleasure in it.
And do your best to live your life well
so you may avoid with your last breath
the dancers who waltz dead souls down to hell.
Age is just a number,
a countdown of life.
The time of wide-eyed wonder,
to that of conflict and strife.
It is a span of years,
that we think we own.
It is not as it appears,
time is not given, it's a loan.
Striving to live for today,
but still seeking tomorrow.
It is with hope, we pray,
that we find joy, not sorrow.
The young, wish to be older,
hoping time will fly.
Efforts become bolder,
as childhood passes by.
Youth, wasted on the young,
for they are unaware.
Like a bell left unrung,
with no music to share.
Blithe breaks at the illumination of muted yellow leaves,
so alive, nearly laughing like children; still life clinging.
Autumnal blouse of painted bark and pretty sleeves.
Silence of bluebirds and red robins - inward singing.
The rake’s barely broken earth, a few clingers at task.
Season’s copacetic with only a tinge or tingle of coolness.
Time’s fallen back as I read and write in open-door-bask.
I will join worshippers at church to net November’s fullness.
A shiver, a shake, an ooh, an ahh, A phoebe does go
on and on about the break of day; brightness in her clutch.
The slightest breeze bursts forth to create the ebb and flow.
It’s like an artist brushing hither then thither; a mirthful touch.
More beaks join the chorus, as will I, when I hear the music.
Oh how delightful, a dizzy dance of bells in the wind’s socket.
I swoon and sashay, on the pavement, in communion’s cubic.
How much more seasonal joy leaps from robin redbreast’s pocket?
What’s fond food to pigs and donkeys?
What use jewels to beasts, birds and bees?
Music to deaf, lamp to the blind,
In scriptures what the fools would find?
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Translation |12.10.2024| food, jewels, birds, music, fools
Poet’s note: Sanskrit has thousands of verses of wisdom called Subhashhitam. It is no use discussing scriptures to fools. It is like the choicest food to pigs and donkeys, jewels to birds and bees, lamp to blind, and music to deaf. The transliteration of the Sanskrit verse follows:
Kim ishtam annam khara sookaraanaam,
kim ratna-haarah mriga pakshhinaam cha |
Andhasyam deepah, badhirasyam geetam,
moorkhasyam kim shaastra kathaa prasangah ||
Solitary walk beneath a moonlit night sky.
Sparkling river reflects moonlight as I walk by.
Geese are flying in the clouds so high.
I also see the northern lights in the sky.
Not so solitary anymore, people at the baseball field.
Houses and a church with their lights, I put on an eye shield.
Suddenly a tree appears to look like a person, so I yield.
The street light flickering brighter as the truth was revealed.
Dogs are suddenly barking from houses afar,
As I walk the street viewing glowing islands so far.
Clouds unveiling the night stars, then I see a bright star.
As I continue to smoke and fill my lungs with tar.
Solitary walk beside a moonlit river sparkling forever.
I am listening to music that fills me with fervor.
My heart pacing steadier as I take in the flavor
Of a delicacy of a drink on which I sip and savor.
How deeply I appreciate these melodies.
How moved I am by these lyrics.
I simply cannot understand moods like these.
I still feel so tranquil while sadness sticks.
Such the serendipitous dive bar,
a man walked in who was almost missed;
“You are destined” he said “for ‘Rockstar
on tour.’ Go and dust off that setlist.”
“Throw out all those decrepit covers.
I’ve got your back let’s send you soaring!
You may have some with those makeovers
sharing your soul they’ll ALL come running!
Twenty five thousand people will stand
waiting for you under the limelight;
No need for that tip jar understand?
You’re already so clean.. stay airtight.”
“Who are you what’s this all about?”
“I saw you play last night.” he replied
Call me a scout caught up in your shout,
with it’s sucker punch my tears you cried.”