Best Music Poems

THAT crazed girl improvising her music.
Her poetry, dancing upon the shore,
...

As I came to the edge of the woods,
Thrush music - hark!
Now if it was dusk outside,
Inside it was dark.
...

When music sounds, gone is the earth I know,
And all her lovely things even lovelier grow;
Her flowers in vision flame, her forest trees
Lift burdened branches, stilled with ecstasies.
...

Wait, for now.
Distrust everything, if you have to.
But trust the hours. Haven't they
carried you everywhere, up to now?
...

Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory;
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
...

I love thy music, mellow bell,
I love thine iron chime,
To life or death, to heaven or hell,
Which calls the sons of Time.
...

All sounds have been as music to my listening:
Pacific lamentations of slow bells,
The crunch of boots on blue snow rosy-glistening,
Shuffle of autumn leaves; and all farewells:
...

Wait Mister. Which way is home?
They turned the light out
and the dark is moving in the corner.
There are no sign posts in this room,
...

A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute saloon;
The kid that handles the music-box was hitting a jag-time tune;
Back of the bar, in a solo game, sat Dangerous Dan McGrew,
And watching his luck was his light-o'-love, the lady that's known as Lou.
...

Music is freedom that relentlessly exists
Freedom of speech
Freedom of thought
Freedom of creativity
...

'Am I, at bottom, that fervent little Spanish Catholic child who chastised herself for loving toys, who forbade herself the enjoyment of sweet foods, who practiced silence, who humiliated her pride, who adored symbols, statues, burning candles, incense, the caress of nuns, organ music, for whom Communion was a great event? I was so exalted by the idea of eating Jesus's flesh and drinking His blood that I couldn't swallow the host well, and I dreaded harming the it.
...

Orpheus with his lute made trees
And the mountain tops that freeze
...

What and how
Can I define
And give a meaning
When I look
...

Orpheus with his lute made trees,
And the mountain tops that freeze,
Bow themselves, when he did sing:
To his music plants and flowers
...

When music is far enough away
the eyelid does not often move

and objects are still as lavender
...

How oft, when thou, my music, music play'st,
Upon that blessèd wood whose motion sounds
With thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway'st
The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,
...

The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.
...

(For Music)

What sight so lured him thro' the fields he knew
As where earth's green stole into heaven's own hue,
...

Music is what makes you move
Music is what makes you groove
Music can be good or bad depending on how its used
Music can make you choose different clothes to wear
...

The gold-hoarder walked in his palace park and with him walked his troubles. And over his head hovered worries as a vulture hovers over a carcass, until he reached a beautiful lake surrounded by magnificent marble statuary.

He sat there pondering the water which poured from the mouths of the statues like thoughts flowing freely from a lover's imagination, and contemplating heavily his palace which stood upon a knoll like a birth-mark upon the cheek of a maiden. His fancy revealed to him the pages of his life's drama which he read with falling tears that veiled his eyes and prevented him from viewing man's feeble additions to Nature.
...

Down the road someone is practising scales,
The notes like little fishes vanish with a wink of tails,
Man's heart expands to tinker with his car
For this is Sunday morning, Fate's great bazaar;
...

Across the dimly lighted room
The violin drew wefts of sound,
Airily they wove and wound
And glimmered gold against the gloom.
...

Against a fall of snow, a Being Beauiful, and very tall.
Whistlings of death and circles of faint music
Make this adored body, swelling and trembling
Like a specter, rise...
...

Father is quite the greatest poet
    That ever lived anywhere.
You say you’re going to write great music—
    I chose that first: it’s unfair.
...

Music: breathing of statues. Perhaps:
silence of paintings. You language where all language
ends. You time
standing vertically on the motion of mortal hearts.
...

A little while when I am gone
My life will live in music after me,
As spun foam lifted and borne on
After the wave is lost in the full sea.
...

I know a green grass path that leaves the field,
And like a running river, winds along
Into a leafy wood where is no throng
Of birds at noon-day, and no soft throats yield
...

...

All birds are distinct and have special character
We may not find them usually in every sector
They have their own way to serve the mankind
Each one holds prominence and has specialists of its kind
...

Moving from left to left, the light
is heavy on the Dome, and coarse.
One small lunette turns it aside
and blankly stares off to the side
...

Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly?
Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy.
Why lov'st thou that which thou receiv'st not gladly,
Or else receiv'st with pleasure thine annoy?
...

Jackson is no more,
Singer at heart and at centre core,
Hundreds or thousands might have wept,
Glorious tradition maintained and lively kept,
...

All June I bound the rose in sheaves.
Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves
And strew them where Pauline may pass.
She will not turn aside? Alas!
...

...

I hear the music
The music is playing
The music is soft
The music is now fading
...

Part One


As night fell and the light glittered in the great house, the servants stood at the massive door awaiting the coming of the guests; and upon their velvet garments shown golden buttons.
...

Music I heard with you was more than music,
And bread I broke with you was more than bread;
Now that I am without you, all is desolate;
All that was once so beautiful is dead.
...

Fear ye not the stormy future, for the Battle Hymn is strong,
And the armies of Australia shall not march without a song;
The glorious words and music of Australia's song shall come
When her true hearts rush together at the beating of a drum.
...

...

I met you in a poem, dark leaves fell.
Sun rode the swift tide of November fields.
Gray power enclosed the music of the form.
White trees startled the rhythm of quatrains.
...

The days were waiting for you to come
Flowers were waiting to blossom
The breeze was waiting to caress the lovely branch
The roads were waiting for your feet to touch
...

The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of night
As a feather wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.
...

A rough sound was polished until it became
a smoother sound, which was polished until
it became music.
...

Final adieu Jackson

Our heart felt so much sadness to offer you colorful wreath,
We were all soaked with tears on your death,
...

It is enough for me by day
To walk the same bright earth with him;
Enough that over us by night
The same great roof of stars is dim.
...

Music band still plays and hold good as part of procession
Everybody prefer their presence in the opening up of session
They are still good at playing old music with famous tunes
It is general belief that good beginning brings the fortune
...

When through life unblest we rove,
Losing all that made life dear,
Should some notes we used to love,
In days of boyhood, meet our ear,
...

Jimmy Wimbleton listened a first week in June.
Ditches along prairie roads of Northern Illinois
...

Loquitur: En Bertrans de Born.
Dante Alighieri put this man in hell for that he was a
stirrer-up of strife.
Eccovi!
...

I. (Bread and Music)

Music I heard with you was more than music,
And bread I broke with you was more than bread;
...

The House is crammed: tier beyond tier they grin
And cackle at the Show, while prancing ranks
Of harlots shrill the chorus, drunk with din;
‘We’re sure the Kaiser loves our dear old Tanks!’
...

Music is an art of combining vocal sounds,
It is combination of instrumental sounds those bounds.
It bounds the harmonious sounds of many,
In an expressive way it pleases, removes agony.
...

Chatter of birds two by two raises a night song joining a litany of running water--sheer waters
showing the russet of old stones remembering many rains.

And the long willows drowse on the shoulders of the running water, and sleep from much music;
...

The band was playing a waltz-quadrille,
I felt as light as a wind-blown feather,
As we floated away, at the caller’s will,
Through the intricate, mazy dance together.
...

Not the moon. A flower
on the other side of the water.

The water sweeps past in flood,
...

I keep such music in my brain
No din this side of death can quell;
Glory exulting over pain,
And beauty, garlanded in hell.
...

Sitting quietly in my too-fancy chair, I hear classical music now fill the air.
[It's a rare evening during which my wife and I don't a movie share.]
Now the music's stopped coming from down the hall; I did enjoy it.
I believe my wife's at her computer in the "office"; she, the music, did employ it
...

When suddenly, at midnight, you hear
an invisible procession going by
with exquisite music, voices,
don't mourn your luck that's failing now,
...

(INSCRIBED TO ONE BEYOND SEAS)

Know by the thread of music woven through
This fragile web of cadences I spin,
...

Music touches you the most,
It refreshes you with its serenity.
Be it Do, Re, Me or Sa, Re, Ga, Ma,
Music is the soul of life.
...

THROUGH the soft evening air enwrinding all,
Rocks, woods, fort, cannon, pacing sentries, endless wilds,
In dulcet streams, in flutes' and cornets' notes,
Electric, pensive, turbulent artificial,
...

On this cold, gray-wintry day,
The sun is nowhere to be found.

Listen! I hear the rain:
...

Sing -- sing -- Music was given
To brighten the gay, and kindle the loving;
Souls here, like planets in heaven,
By harmony's laws alone are kept moving.
...

O leave your hand where it lies cool
Upon the eyes whose lids are hot:
Its rosy shade is bountiful
Of silence, and assuages thought.
...

Life is a well-written lyric with an uncomposed music.
Death is well-composed music for an unwritten lyric,
All drama starts with life and ends with the death
Both have a distinction of innocence with the grandeur of purity.
...

O little hands, long vanished in the night--
Sweet fairy hands that were my treasure here--
My heart is full of music from some sphere,
Where ye make melody for God's delight.
...

Exquisite poetry rendered
In music gripping the heart
And dance eloquent
Merge par excellence.
...

Glory of architect, glory of painter, and sculptor, and bard,
Living forever in temple and picture and statue and song, --
Look how the world with the lights that they lit is illumined and starred,
Brief was the flame of their life, but the lamps of their art burn long!
...

Party in the sky

You are invited to a splendid party, high in the sky
It is the best of the season you cant deny
...

I am free of love as a bird flying south in the autumn,
Swift and intent, asking no joy from another,
Glad to forget all of the passion of April
Ere it was love-free.
...

Blossoms at night,
and the faces of people
moved by music.
...

Said a people to a poet---' Go out from among us straightway!
While we are thinking earthly things, thou singest of divine.
There's a little fair brown nightingale, who, sitting in the gateways
Makes fitter music to our ears than any song of thine!'
...

WAS it light that spake from the darkness,
or music that shone from the word,
When the night was enkindled with sound
of the sun or the first-born bird?
...

At midnight, when suddenly you hear
an invisible procession going by
with exquisite music, voices,
don't mourn your luck that's failing now,
...

I don't like flowers - they do remind me often
Of funerals, of weddings and of balls;
Their presence on tables for a dinner calls.

But sub-etern...
...

Once played to attentive faces
music has broken its frame
its bodice of always-weak laces
the entirely promiscuous art
...

Today I want to tell you how much you mean to me,
Though sometimes the right words don't come so easily.
I remember your faith. How you gave unselfishly.
Mom, I am thankful for the love that you've shown me!
...

Not on the lute, nor harp of many strings
Shall all men praise the Master of all song.
Our life is brief, one saith, and art is long;
And skilled must be the laureates of kings.
...

'T is you that are the music, not your song.
The song is but a door which, opening wide,
Lets forth the pent-up melody inside,
Your spirit's harmony, which clear and strong
...

861

Split the Lark—and you'll find the Music—
Bulb after Bulb, in Silver rolled—
...

No, Music, thou art not the 'food of Love.'
Unless Love feeds upon its own sweet self,
Till it becomes all Music murmurs of.
...

OUTSIDE the rain upon the street,
The sky all grim of hue,
Inside, the music-painful sweet,
...

How oft, when thou, my music, music play'st,
Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds
With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway'st
The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,
...

The minstrels played their Christmas tune
To-night beneath my cottage-eaves;
While, smitten by a lofty moon,
...

He trod the earth but yesterday,
And now he treads the stars.
He left us in the April time
He praised so often in his rhyme,
...

that soft music
it does'nt seem to be
falling into my ear
no..no it has not stopped either
...

Ideal and beloved voices
of those who are dead, or of those
who are lost to us like the dead.
...

My life is like a music-hall,
Where, in the impotence of rage,
Chained by enchantment to my stall,
I see myself upon the stage
...

Music is my life
Music is my laughter that makes me cry
Music is the thing that changed my life
Music is my happiness I always feel in side
...

...

...

I love all things that pass: their briefness is
Music that fades on transient silences.
Winds, birds, and glittering leaves that flare and fall—
They fling delight across the world; they call
...

The last of day gathers
in the yellow parlor
and drifts like fine dust
across the face of
...

Green ripples singing down the corn,
With blossoms dumb the path I tread,
And in the music of the morn
One with wild roses on her head.
...

Here there is death. But even here, they say,
Here where the dull sun shines this afternoon
As desolate as ever the dead moon
Did glimmer on dead Sardis, men were gay;
...

It plays to my heartstrings...
It is the music to my ears-
...It is the tender love song of my life-
And the refelections of my years...
...

A rowan like a lipsticked girl.
Between the by-road and the main road
Alder trees at a wet and dripping distance
Stand off among the rushes.
...

Wind blows with clarity that hurts the eyes,
And makes old crooked men of autumn trees.
I watch the landscape dancing with the sound,
Creating poems no dusk could receive.
...

Beauty of my garden shows me that real life is free,
its colour calls out please, please stop to look at me.
I hear the wind rush through the shrubs and trees, my
music playing soft, a robins song, all sounds of silence.
...

How sweet it is to sit and read the tales
Of mighty poets and to hear the while
Sweet music, which when the attention fails
...