Poems about Music
#music
Poems about music, including a diverse range of different genres. Here you'll find poetry about playing an instrument, listening to music and memories triggered by songs and music.
David_Macleod
Poem Published
7th Dec 2019 6:14pm
7th Dec 2019 6:14pm
Ode to John Moreland
What do you see?
Through the mist of your coffee
A passionate singer
A vocal gunslinger
A poet and songwriter
Hold up your lighter
Good on the guitar
The mildness and strength of a cigar
A soft heart
A man apart
A good man
Polished like leather tan
A man who has known the pain
That many treat with disdain
A man who is still suffering
Every second this video is buffering
Do you zone out
With the eyes fit for a stakeout
Can't you hear the voice
Despite it is your choice ...
Through the mist of your coffee
A passionate singer
A vocal gunslinger
A poet and songwriter
Hold up your lighter
Good on the guitar
The mildness and strength of a cigar
A soft heart
A man apart
A good man
Polished like leather tan
A man who has known the pain
That many treat with disdain
A man who is still suffering
Every second this video is buffering
Do you zone out
With the eyes fit for a stakeout
Can't you hear the voice
Despite it is your choice ...
#sadness
#love
#music
#lyrics
#CallToAction
23 reads
3 Comments
marina2020
Rain Woman
Rain Woman
Poem Published
3rd Dec 2019 10:07pm
3rd Dec 2019 10:07pm
Home
The beat take me back
to long car drives
on seemingly endless interstates
Traveling home
from a different state
feeling connected by an invisable string
pulling me back to Vermont
and my hometown
staring out the window at night
watching the night grow longer
and the lights burn brighter
feeling the song rather than hearing it
a sense of the past
to easier times
without a worry in the world
when I was young and carefree
along with my family
pillows and blankets
the lyrics make me feel suspended in time ...
to long car drives
on seemingly endless interstates
Traveling home
from a different state
feeling connected by an invisable string
pulling me back to Vermont
and my hometown
staring out the window at night
watching the night grow longer
and the lights burn brighter
feeling the song rather than hearing it
a sense of the past
to easier times
without a worry in the world
when I was young and carefree
along with my family
pillows and blankets
the lyrics make me feel suspended in time ...
#music
#memories
29 reads
5 Comments
BlackXtacy
Poem Published
26th Nov 2019 1:33am
26th Nov 2019 1:33am
Like My Favorite Prince Tapes
Do me, baby, like you never done before
I want to be your lover, your Hot Thing, your AnnaStesia
Your Darling Nikki wants to please you
Tease your Grand slam in the bedroom
Jack you off while I Kiss you
You'll call me the Beautiful One, the Most Beautiful Girl in the World
Your Diamond's and Pearl's
We'll make Love to the Dawn
And Get Off and Cream
You Sexy Motherfucker
Damn You
I love you in me and the Bluelight
Under the Cherry Moon licks life over my skin
Temptation all over my body
As you put your arms around...
I want to be your lover, your Hot Thing, your AnnaStesia
Your Darling Nikki wants to please you
Tease your Grand slam in the bedroom
Jack you off while I Kiss you
You'll call me the Beautiful One, the Most Beautiful Girl in the World
Your Diamond's and Pearl's
We'll make Love to the Dawn
And Get Off and Cream
You Sexy Motherfucker
Damn You
I love you in me and the Bluelight
Under the Cherry Moon licks life over my skin
Temptation all over my body
As you put your arms around...
#sex
#erotic
#music
#lyrics
#sensual
120 reads
2 Comments
Wordsmith
Poem Published
23rd Nov 2019 6:11am
23rd Nov 2019 6:11am
Real Music
Real dope rappers
Who write good flows
Not those whackers
Whose IQ ‘s low
Real emcees
Not them fake gees
Whose violence fancy life they pretend to live
In their video scene
Make them obscene
Rap shouldn’t be getting kids trapped
In a junkie life
Imagining wrongly outside the map
Now most of these kids had swapped
Their real life with that rap-gee crap
Things need to be done asap
Before things get out of bound
Before these kids gets out of hand
Rapping should be about feeling
Happening...
Who write good flows
Not those whackers
Whose IQ ‘s low
Real emcees
Not them fake gees
Whose violence fancy life they pretend to live
In their video scene
Make them obscene
Rap shouldn’t be getting kids trapped
In a junkie life
Imagining wrongly outside the map
Now most of these kids had swapped
Their real life with that rap-gee crap
Things need to be done asap
Before things get out of bound
Before these kids gets out of hand
Rapping should be about feeling
Happening...
#inspirational
#music
#art
#rap
#FeelingTrapped
70 reads
0 Comments
Fetchitnow
Poem Published
22nd Nov 2019 7:22am
22nd Nov 2019 7:22am
Busking About
I’ve been busking ‘bout since young and fair
The atmosphere from onlookers, like skating on thin air
In such unconventional, prior to smacking ways
That’s how I’d spend my entire waking days
Melodic riffs, dancing over bass lines
Harmonising daily, to some lonesome feelin’ ballads
Playing finger-style guitar, without any steering hazards
Along the boardwalks of Venice Beach
In unlikely places, that you’d ever encounter or reach
A folksy blues musician, you can’t wait to hear
Independent, from a money-making...
The atmosphere from onlookers, like skating on thin air
In such unconventional, prior to smacking ways
That’s how I’d spend my entire waking days
Melodic riffs, dancing over bass lines
Harmonising daily, to some lonesome feelin’ ballads
Playing finger-style guitar, without any steering hazards
Along the boardwalks of Venice Beach
In unlikely places, that you’d ever encounter or reach
A folksy blues musician, you can’t wait to hear
Independent, from a money-making...
#music
33 reads
1 Comment
Sky_dancer
Poem Published
19th Nov 2019 7:29pm
19th Nov 2019 7:29pm
A Lesson in Mindfulness
I hear the melody:
Follow the bass line
In repeating patterns
I think about mathematics
In come the drums
Heavy footprints
Guide it through, steadfast
Progressive
Guitars in riff-waves
Wash harmonics
In pulsating rivers
A voice,
Archangel Məṭaṭrōn
Pulls out my guts
Tears out my heart
Absorbed in tone
And pitch,
Clarity
And power
"Listen"
He invites
"These words reveal truth"
I heared to the words
Superficially thinking ...
Follow the bass line
In repeating patterns
I think about mathematics
In come the drums
Heavy footprints
Guide it through, steadfast
Progressive
Guitars in riff-waves
Wash harmonics
In pulsating rivers
A voice,
Archangel Məṭaṭrōn
Pulls out my guts
Tears out my heart
Absorbed in tone
And pitch,
Clarity
And power
"Listen"
He invites
"These words reveal truth"
I heared to the words
Superficially thinking ...
#love
#music
89 reads
5 Comments
BlueBeastGirl
Poem Published
19th Nov 2019 6:41am
19th Nov 2019 6:41am
The Song of Our History
You told me I'd stayed true to myself
That you still saw the girl from highschool
A knot caught in my throat and I whispered
I don't feel like I'm the same and our eyes met
And I realized that the only thing that's stayed
Is the way I feel about you, yes it's changed
But it's still here singing in my veins
The song of our history starts to pound
Deep inside my head, flowing down, down
And I turn away as my mind plays the scene
You reaching out pressing your hand
Ever so softly against my cheek, on my waist
And you pull me...
That you still saw the girl from highschool
A knot caught in my throat and I whispered
I don't feel like I'm the same and our eyes met
And I realized that the only thing that's stayed
Is the way I feel about you, yes it's changed
But it's still here singing in my veins
The song of our history starts to pound
Deep inside my head, flowing down, down
And I turn away as my mind plays the scene
You reaching out pressing your hand
Ever so softly against my cheek, on my waist
And you pull me...
#music
#addiction
#FallingInLove
#temptation
#passion
57 reads
5 Comments
Razzerleaf
Poem Published
19th Nov 2019 5:25am
19th Nov 2019 5:25am
Fruit picking from plectrums
I've been lost
In a Humbuckers
field, picking
plump fruit from
plectrums, to fill stomp boxes
full of ripe fancy.
My fingers
cut deep on thin strings,
and I bend
with gravel
as I work away fretless,
always keeping time.
Weighed down by
a solid body,
sustained by
the richness
of a pentatonic crop.
buried under rock.
In a Humbuckers
field, picking
plump fruit from
plectrums, to fill stomp boxes
full of ripe fancy.
My fingers
cut deep on thin strings,
and I bend
with gravel
as I work away fretless,
always keeping time.
Weighed down by
a solid body,
sustained by
the richness
of a pentatonic crop.
buried under rock.
#music
30 reads
4 Comments
Taurek
Poem Published
17th Nov 2019 4:43am
17th Nov 2019 4:43am
The Lady Is the Only Thing That Matters
No, that’s just more
Guilt and that
isn’t
Life
I’m still not
Doing this
right,
I can’t even
Convince
Myself
There’s this
Beautiful
Woman
who just
got a
nose
Job
And she’s
everyone’s
Girl
I’m listening
To old music
On the
Jukebox
Nothing is
here for
long,
Except for those
Stones sitting
Along all
Those river-
Banks
There’s a certain
Way to go
About
This
...
Guilt and that
isn’t
Life
I’m still not
Doing this
right,
I can’t even
Convince
Myself
There’s this
Beautiful
Woman
who just
got a
nose
Job
And she’s
everyone’s
Girl
I’m listening
To old music
On the
Jukebox
Nothing is
here for
long,
Except for those
Stones sitting
Along all
Those river-
Banks
There’s a certain
Way to go
About
This
...
#regret
#women
#beauty
#music
#morality
55 reads
0 Comments
mingomingus
Poem Published
16th Nov 2019 10:48pm
16th Nov 2019 10:48pm
Put It In Reverse (Ten Of Cups)
There seems to be
A rift in relations
"Communication Breakdown"
Playing on the radio
In the car
With no one in particular
Chitter chatter
What's the matter?
Can't stand the silence
Between peers
Though years
Separate us like seat-belts
Fasten tight lips
In case of slips
Letting up on
The spiritual program
He is the driver
Living Life On Life's Terms
I am the passenger
Transitioning through
Static transmissions
Picking up clips & phrases
Steps & stages
Trying...
A rift in relations
"Communication Breakdown"
Playing on the radio
In the car
With no one in particular
Chitter chatter
What's the matter?
Can't stand the silence
Between peers
Though years
Separate us like seat-belts
Fasten tight lips
In case of slips
Letting up on
The spiritual program
He is the driver
Living Life On Life's Terms
I am the passenger
Transitioning through
Static transmissions
Picking up clips & phrases
Steps & stages
Trying...
#spiritual
#cars
#music #healing
#music #healing
30 reads
0 Comments
wallyroo92
Poem Published
16th Nov 2019 2:08am
16th Nov 2019 2:08am
On Whipped Cream and Other Delights
I think it was back in nineteen eighty,
Perhaps as early as nineteen seventy-nine,
When my uncle used to play this kind of music,
From another decade way before my time.
And though I didn’t truly comprehend it,
The image really stuck in my mind,
And that particular childhood memory,
Influenced me to be musically inclined.
Now that I’m a grown man and look back,
I’ve come to identify how it made me feel,
Something so classy was also suggestive,
An album cover with so much sex appeal.
Her dress looked like...
Perhaps as early as nineteen seventy-nine,
When my uncle used to play this kind of music,
From another decade way before my time.
And though I didn’t truly comprehend it,
The image really stuck in my mind,
And that particular childhood memory,
Influenced me to be musically inclined.
Now that I’m a grown man and look back,
I’ve come to identify how it made me feel,
Something so classy was also suggestive,
An album cover with so much sex appeal.
Her dress looked like...
#music
#nostalgia
#sensual
58 reads
12 Comments
Razzerleaf
Poem Published
15th Nov 2019 5:04pm
15th Nov 2019 5:04pm
Heavy Ipods
Only the radio had the power
to keep my attention
for an hour each Sunday night,
just after a bath
and a bubble beard shave.
The rest of the time
I was a distraction
to the rest of the class,
well at least that's what it says
in those musty pink report books
in the loft.
The top twenty meant as much
as match of the day, James Bond or
the head rolling out in Jaws.
When it was over at 7:00pm
I was always left feeling a little depressed
called it Sunday night tummy.
Dad rarely spoke between...
to keep my attention
for an hour each Sunday night,
just after a bath
and a bubble beard shave.
The rest of the time
I was a distraction
to the rest of the class,
well at least that's what it says
in those musty pink report books
in the loft.
The top twenty meant as much
as match of the day, James Bond or
the head rolling out in Jaws.
When it was over at 7:00pm
I was always left feeling a little depressed
called it Sunday night tummy.
Dad rarely spoke between...
#childhood
#music
45 reads
11 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems about Music
