I like music that's more offensive. I like it to sound like nails on a blackboard, get me wild.
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A cold bed
That feeling of cold insecurity
now slept on, feels even more sharp
in the morning's light.
She holds her hand to her head,
her eyes deep and dark, worried.
Her face serious.
The sheets are her only protection
from a hostile world and she delays
getting up.
She ponders, worries and frets,
but cannot put a stopper in her troubles,
they're too large
The sound of an opening letterbox
is like nails across a blackboard
or the squeak of chalk
and as she lies there, pale faced, awake,
the final demand hits the hall floor
like the falling of the guillotine.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Music is...
Music is...
Music is expression...
Music is freedom...
Music is the song of life...
Music is notes...
Music is noise...
Music is beat...
Music is relaxing...
Music is peace...
Music is loud...
Music is calm...
Music is meaningful...
Music is sound...
Music is heart...
Music is soul...
Music is mind...
Music is body...
Music is nature...
Music is language...
Music is the song of my life...
Music is everything...
Music is me...
Music is....
poem by Madeline anderson
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What Is Music
What is music?
What is music?
Is music the languages that shoot out of my mouth and speak in silence?
Is music the moving of my lip according to my mind command?
What is music?
Music is the one two word that my mind put together in my mouth
Music is the airs that escape a snap of my violence teeth
Music is the wisdom sound my mind and mouth produce
Music is the combine sound that entertain my ear drum
What is music?
Music is a simple sound I verbalize to state my joyful soul
Music is the jingle that loosen my soul in time of desire
Music is the sounds that launch me to a free world
Music is the spirit that struggle in me
What is music?
Music is the sound I scream from my mouth to a free humanity
Music is a one two word I yell
Music is the lyric I cry to express my mental mind,
My beating heart
My jumping feet
My shouting soul
My sweating body
What is music?
Music is the rhythm of my voice, what is music? ?
poem by Robert Otim
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Three Lowly Nails
Three lowly nails,
Changed the world for you and me
Three lowly nails,
Were used to attach Jesus to a tree
Three lowly nails,
In each hand and through His feet
Three lowly nails,
Set His people free
Three lowly nails,
Gave us a King for eternity
poem by David Kush
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The Sound Of Lost Love
*Heart sound*
An Indian’s drum
Thunder in the sky
The bass in a song
*Heart sound*
The sound of love
*Heart sound*
*Heart sound*
Gunshots through the air
Bumps on the road
Sticks of dynamite
*Heart sound*
The sound of love
*Heart sound*
*Slow heart sound*
Glass breaking
The ripping of paper
Nails on a chalkboard
*Slow heart sound*
The sound of lost love
*Slow heart sound*
poem by Paul Celano
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The sound of music.......
The sound of music gives us so much emotions
and that plays a melody deep in our heart greatly
All the sound on the earth are like music
and the music brings love and enjoyment to our life
Music expresses universal language of the world
and brings people together where ever they live
The music is the best gift of God to all of us
where its fills our soul with peace and mind with creativity
Every music has its own rhythm
and it's creates a great sound of music
Music in the mountain brings peace in our heart
and music in the ocean fills our soul with love
When I hear the sound of music
then I begin to write a song as a soul of music
If you don't love the sound of music
then your soul will be unsung
Because music can put life in to a dead man
Ravi Sathasivam / Sri Lanka
Copyright @2006 Ravi Sathasivam
poem by Ravi Sathasivam
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Some of touch
Music not
A song...
Music not a
A sound...
Music not a
A shout...
Music not a
A hit...
Music not
A Pop...
Music not
A key boad...
Music is not
A audio CD
Music is not
A devil...
Music is not
A god...
Music is only
Only for some of touch...
With ear to heart....!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Blackboard Of My Heart
You wrote your words so carefully
on the blackboard of my heart.
Writing of the passion,
you held inside for me.
Writing that we would never part,
you would always be with me.
Writing every word with love’s pen
on the blackboard of my heart.
21 April 2009
poem by David Harris
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The Poem Has A Music Of Its Own
THE POEM HAS A MUSIC OF ITS OWN
The poem has a music of its own
Without the music
It is no poetry.
My music
Faltering breaking slow
Wonders where it is going
And if it really sounds
As music should sound.
Once it was more easy to feel
The melody in me real.
Now I just do not know
So many sounds
So many words
So many claims of poetry.
Music music music
Where are you?
The sound from myself
Is only 'me' now.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Music
Music is an art
Music is presided over by the Muses
Music combines sounds in a pleasing way
Music has common elements.
Music has pitch and melody
Music has harmony and rhythm
Music has tempo and meter
Music has sonic qualities of timbre.
Music is euphony or sweet sound
Music has harmonious qualities
Music is inspirational
Music opens the soul.
Music is energizing
Music is enriching
Music makes one happy
Music is relaxing.
Music is soothing
Music is entertainment
Music is lovable
Music is stirring.
Music moves one to tears
Music gives a spark
Music tunes a special memory
Music is a form of therapy.
Music fills with spiritual attunement
Music is a personal experience
Music takes us along the road of life
Music is the corner stone of every society.
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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A tribute to the BBC 'Young Musician of 2008
This is what love
sounds like. This
is how you know
the heart is only ever one.
This boy, he’s twelve years old,
he’s standing on the platform
in the huge hall. He’s simply
waiting to play himself to you.
The trombone is now a few inches
shorter than he is. When he started,
it was bigger than he was.
He begins to play, Can this sweetness
have come from this contraption?
If Pythagoras was lecturing tonight
on music, measure, the harmony of spheres,
he’d have brought his tape measure
in case we needed proof.
If giraffes could sing,
they would sing to this trombone,
knowing themselves beautiful like it,
knowing that they both know
where music comes from.
How far it goes.
The sound says,
purity sounds like this. Listen.
The sound says,
did you know that innocence
can contain the whole of wisdom?
Listen.
The sound says,
did you know that experience
can know itself in music?
Listen.
The sound says,
I am music. This
Is what music is. I am
all music in this moment.
If tears were joys, they
would sound like this.
If joys were tears, they
would both sound like this.
The sound says,
I was made for this.
Listen.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Music
The Music is an outlet
The music is a living thing
The Music is everything
The music is heart and soul
The Music also has its toll
The music is a creature
The music takes time
No matter your life or rhyme
The music is variety
The music can also heal
No matter you calamity
The music is a way to be found
No matter the music’s sound.
poem by Aaron Burr
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They all music...
Sound is
Every wear
Sounded at
Sourending
The world...
That's all are music...
Your are
Ready to lision...
Thats all are
Music...
You are not ready
All are sound...
Sound with sound
A sourinding the world...
They all music...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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The Background Matters
White chalk on the blackboard is clear.
Black ink on the white paper is clear.
Silence from sound and sound from silence are clear.
The background contributes value to the one.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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When.
Music when sound becomes hollow.
When sun turns to storm.
When earth begins to quake.
Screams echo in Summer breeze.
Laughter floats away on the waves.
Music when silence becomes deafening.
Music when dry eyes start to cry.
Music when dreams turn to nightmares.
Music when calamity turns to chaos.
When clear minds cloud.
When loving heart break.
When children never exist.
When words are never spoken.
Music when sound becomes hollow.
Music when soft voices die.
poem by Jessica Wetzel
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Giving In
Giving in may,
Not be a benefit.
Giving in may,
Just be an excuse to quit.
Giving in may,
Not be the end of it
If,
What is done to another is offensive.
Giving in may,
Not be a benefit.
Giving in may,
Just be an excuse to quit.
And giving in may,
Not be the end of it.
If,
What is done to another is offensive.
Saying what is wrong to one,
May not be the right thing.
Especially if the other is a lover.
Who believes what is done,
Is okay and approved.
With an acceptance expected,
To be received as cool.
Giving in may,
Not be a benefit.
Giving in may,
Just be an excuse to quit.
And giving in may,
Not be the end of it.
If,
What is done is offensive.
And it is said and admitted.
Giving in may,
Not be a benefit.
Giving in may,
Just be an excuse to quit.
Giving in may,
Not be the end of it.
If,
What is done is offensive.
And an argument begins,
That is unended.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Can Hear Music
Ahhhhhh oooooo
This is the way
I always dreamed it would be
The way that it is, oh oh
When you are holding me
I never had a love of my own
Maybe thats why when were all alone
I can hear music
I can hear music
The sound of the city baby seems to disappear
I can hear music
Sweet sweet music
Whenever you touch me baby
Whenever youre near
Lovin you
It keeps me satisfied
And I cant explain, oh no
The way Im feeling inside
You look at me we kiss and then
I close my eyes and here it comes again
I can hear music
I can hear music
The sound of the city baby seems to disappear
I can hear music
Sweet sweet music
Whenever you touch me baby
Whenever youre near
I hear the music all the time, yeah
I hear the music, hold me tight now baby
I hear the music all the time
I hear the music
I hear the music (baby)
Ahhhhh
I can hear music
I can hear music
The sound of the city baby seems to disappear
I can hear music
Sweet sweet music
Whenever you touch me baby
Whenever youre near
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Opening Up To You
Opening up to you,
The night before,
red finger nails!
Dark finger nails!
White finger nails!
Blue finger nails!
To utter it out;
The thoughts of man,
The thoughts of woman,
The thoughts of a child! !
But, holding the torch and to touch you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Deathless Music!
Music never dies!
There's music
For all occasions!
Music lives
By the noise of
Musical instruments!
Music flourishes
By the poetic lines
Of best poets!
Music for joy
Just as for grief
Lives with man!
Music consoles
Crying child
From birth on!
Music makes all
Slave of sweet sound
Called melody!
All love music
Intellectuals or cowboys
As in movies!
Music occupies
Till the end of life
Of all ever!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Minds in Harmony
Jane's interest is solely in music
Away from the bustle of town
And oh how she loves the music
When Greensleeves Fantasia comes round.
There's magic in the Vaughan Williams' sound.
James' days are too long without music
So many misgivings abound
And oh how he loves the music
When the Moonlight Sonata comes round.
There is mystery in the Beethoven sound.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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