Music Poems | Poemist

Popular Music Poems

Great Are The Myths

by Walt Whitman

GREAT are the myths--I too delight in them;
Great are Adam and Eve--I too look back and accept them;
Great the risen and fallen nations, and their poets, women, sages,
inventors, rulers, warriors, and priests.
Great is Liberty! great is Equality! I am their follower;
Helmsmen of nations, choose your craft! where you sail, I sail,
I weather it out with you, or sink with you.

Great is Youth--equally great is Old Age--great are the Day and
Night;

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Poems Of Joys

by Walt Whitman

O TO make the most jubilant poem!
Even to set off these, and merge with these, the carols of Death.
O full of music! full of manhood, womanhood, infancy!
Full of common employments! full of grain and trees.

O for the voices of animals! O for the swiftness and balance of
fishes!
O for the dropping of rain-drops in a poem!
O for the sunshine, and motion of waves in a poem.

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The Law Of The Yukon

by Robert William Service

This is the law of the Yukon, and ever she makes it plain:
"Send not your foolish and feeble; send me your strong and your sane --
Strong for the red rage of battle; sane for I harry them sore;
Send me men girt for the combat, men who are grit to the core;
Swift as the panther in triumph, fierce as the bear in defeat,
Sired of a bulldog parent, steeled in the furnace heat.
Send me the best of your breeding, lend me your chosen ones;
Them will I take to my bosom, them will I call my sons;
Them will I gild with my treasure, them will I glut with my meat;
But the others -- the misfits, the failures -- I trample under my feet.

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The Shooting Of Dan Mcgrew

by Robert William Service

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.

When out of the night, which was fifty below, and into the din and the glare,
There stumbled a miner fresh from the creeks, dog-dirty, and loaded for bear.
He looked like a man with a foot in the grave and scarcely the strength of a louse,
Yet he tilted a poke of dust on the bar, and he called for drinks for the house.
There was none could place the stranger's face, though we searched ourselves for a clue;

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In Defence Of The Bush

by Banjo Paterson

So you're back from up the country, Mister Lawson, where you went,
And you're cursing all the business in a bitter discontent;
Well, we grieve to disappoint you, and it makes us sad to hear
That it wasn't cool and shady -- and there wasn't whips of beer,
And the looney bullock snorted when you first came into view --
Well, you know it's not so often that he sees a swell like you;
And the roads were hot and dusty, and the plains were burnt and brown,
And no doubt you're better suited drinking lemon-squash in town.
Yet, perchance, if you should journey down the very track you went
In a month or two at furthest, you would wonder what it meant;

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Recent Music Poems

The Beatles

by Mario Odekerken

Four shadows on a Liverpool street,
not yet legends,
just boys with callused fingers
and hearts tuned to something
the world hadn't heard yet.

A chord struck,
and the silence of the age shattered.
Not with noise,
but with a new kind of light.

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Songs Paused in the Tree

by Evelyn Judy Buehler

Since the elderly king greatly loved music, his court esteemed it, too;
As sun and moon smile on myriad colors, during the butterfly revue.

The king was well loved and jolly, with the queen, always by his side.
He ruled with caring. Like rainbow hued peaks, where indifference died.

His glorious reign had been lengthy, and the vast kingdom prospered;
Like the kingdom of regal, red lilies, blooming regularly as clockwork.

Fabled, flighty, fall days brought friends, on the spur of rare moment,

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Music

by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu

Rain is drizzling in slanting form,
Pelting my thatched roof gently.
Every globule of raindrop shines
With the power of water.
Outside, it’s cold, grey and hopefully dark,
The stars hiding behind blindfolded and
Piddling clouds, making love smoothly.
The cosmos, fatter, and at the same time, leaner,
Holds a confraternal festival of rain
That runs from seasons to ancestries.

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Piano Man

by Mario Odekerken

Fingers dance on ivory roads,
a melody in midnight codes.
He plays what no one dares to say,
and makes the silence drift away.

A glass half full,a heart half gone-
he tells our stories,note by note,
then fades into the final song,
the one that keeps us all afloat.

mood-setting algorithm (for the nondancer, sex-text-only build)

by atef ayadi

#!/usr/bin/env python3
#if love is sharing the now, then
# -*- coding: utf-8 -*-
# magnetism is something else.
#spirituality is not religion or about region, and neither about french legion of honor.

def love_her():
rhythm = False
her_moves = {"dance": "none", "sex": "algorithm"}

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