The Poem That Comes From Hearing The Poem Of Another
The poem that comes from hearing the poem of another
And tries to ride on its rhythm
Like the sea on its own waves-
A forced music finding nowhere in itself a music of its own
Because all the poems are melodies made light by more light
As all the poems are dreams made dreamlike by more dreaming-
And we in our poetic fervor hearing that lyric sound
Go round and round again and again
As if we were the music of the stars
When the universe empirically spherical –
But now in this more deeply instrumented time,
When what we see with our eyes is always less than what we measure
Time and Time again tells us that Space and Space again tell us
That all we are in this long distance darkness
Is one small point of light which in its own sad way will fade out before its music endures-
For the stars have only our imagined music
and not more than the light
of their own violent dying –
So here having heard the poem of another
And open to my own inner voice,
I cry and cry again for another sky and another music
That only God Who is Beyond these earthly hapless sounds
Can Dream and Feel and Know
In the Lyric Ending that justifies our home.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Was Away From The Poems
I was away from the Poems
I could not hear them within myself -
There were many sounds
Many different kinds of words
And speakers and ranters and shouters
And all kinds of false music also
And even beautiful music and prayer-
But there were no poems
I could hear no poems
And within myself suddenly there came such ‘longing’
And such ‘anxiety’-
‘Where is the Poem? And where can I possibly be if there is none?
And how can I find it again? ’
And all I needed I thought was some long long long silence
Some being alone and away
Some forever waiting to hear
Some listening to the true voice
And then somehow somehow the Poems would come again –
And here here here it is now
The poem
Quiet and sure and happy and light and singing
As if it were the one music God wanted me to hear
And repeat always as if it truly were mine and yours
Dear imagined reader,
Alone.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Poem Without Music Of Its Own Is Not A Poem
A POEM WITHOUT MUSIC OF ITS OWN IS NOT A POEM
A poem without music of its own is not a poem-
I have lost the rhythm of my soul
I try-
I write these words
But where is the music?
Slowly slowly I strive
To listen to my own voice-
It sounds as if it comes from deep within me
Deeper than my own dreaming.
Is this a poem I hear?
Or only my own ambition and scheming?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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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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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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Splash
the illusion is that you are simply
reading this poem.
the reality is that this is
more than a
poem.
this is a beggar's knife.
this is a tulip.
this is a soldier marching
through Madrid.
this is you on your
death bed.
this is Li Po laughing
underground.
this is not a god-damned
poem.
this is a horse asleep.
a butterfly in
your brain.
this is the devil's
circus.
you are not reading this
on a page.
the page is reading
you.
feel it?
it's like a cobra. it's a hungry eagle circling the room.
this is not a poem. poems are dull,
they make you sleep.
these words force you
to a new
madness.
you have been blessed, you have been pushed into a
blinding area of
light.
the elephant dreams
with you
now.
the curve of space
bends and
laughs.
you can die now.
you can die now as
people were meant to
die:
great,
victorious,
hearing the music,
being the music,
roaring,
roaring,
roaring.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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I Wanted the Music of Another World
I wanted the music of another world
The music that makes me know how to dream -
But there is no music in me now
And I cannot begin to know how to feel it-
Music is the soul and Music is memory -
Music is love crying out within me as creation-
I need music for there to be Poetry
But the Music I have now hobbles within me
And the Poem that comes is far from a dream.
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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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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All i got to my name.
All I got to my name,
Is my music
It's all i ever am
and all i will be
you can't take it away
it's all i got to my name
My music is my life
my music is my love
my music is my fire on a cold day
my music is my castle where i stay all the day
my music is home
where i feel safe
It's all I got to my name
don't you dare take it away
it's what makes me me and not you
My music is my best friend
my music is my nae
it's all I own that matters to me
My music is all i got to my name
no family
no friends
all i need is my music
I need nothing but my music
it's what I do all the day
all I can say
My music My music
all i got to my name...
poem by Alice Lion
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Add Some Music
The sunday mornin' gospel goes good with the soul
There's blues, folk, and country, and rock like a rollin' stone
The world could come together as one
If everybody under the sun
Add some music to your day
(Add some music add some add some music to your day)
A bob didit a bop didit
You'll hear it while you're walkin' by a neighbor's home
You'll hear it faintly in the distance when you're on the phone
You're sittin' in a dentist's chair
And they've got music for you there
To add some music
(Add some music add some add some music to your)
To your day
A bob didit a bop didit
Add some music music everywhere (add some music)
Add some add some add some add some music (add some music)
Your doctor knows it keeps you calm
Your preacher adds it to his psalms
So add some music
(Add some music add some add some music to your)
To your day
Music
(Add some music add some music)
When you're alone
(Add some music add some music)
Is like a companion
(Add some music add some music)
For your lonely soul
Oo oo oo woo oo woo oo oo oo oooo
When day is over (when day is over)
I close my tired eyes (I close my tired)
Music is in my soul
At a movie you can feel it touching your heart
And on every day of the summertime
You'll hear children chasing ice cream carts
They'll play it on your wedding day
There must be 'bout a million ways
To add some music
(Add some music add some add some music to your)
To your day
Add some music to your day
Add some music to your day
Add some music to your day
Add some music to your day
Add some music to your day
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Music is
Music is round
Music is square
Music is blue
Music is green
Music is am
Music is pm
Music is happiness
Music is sadness
Music is life
Music is death
Music is the world.
poem by Lesley Bass
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What is music?
What is music?
Music is the rhythm of the soul
Every beat, every tone, every melody
Is in sync with the natural vibe of your body
What is music?
Music is an outlet, from the everyday
It can take away the pain you feel
Or add to the excitement of a new day
What is music?
Music is something that never changes, just Evolves
Music brings people together of all ages
No matter what you believe in, music brings Common ground
What is music?
Music is my name
Music is who I am
Music is my life
Music is something that can’t be taken away
I will always and forever have MY music
poem by Jessica Cole
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I Wanted To Write The Most Beautiful Poem
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem
The one beyond any music I had known-
The one which would reveal the changes
in yellows and greens
spring sunlight whispered to the trees
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem
The one which would tell the stories of all those I have loved and cared for-
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem
As a poem of Kindness-
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem
Of sublime and overpowering distance
Of stars when stars were dreams -
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem-
But I knew many other poems already written
Would always be far more beautiful than mine-
So I tried to write the most beautiful poem I could-
But the light outside
The world and its colors
The beauties we see and hear everyday
Said to me again and again,
'Walk more humbly with your God and do Justice and love Mercy also'.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Music Alone Shall Live
Music is my friend
when I am lonely
music is the one and only
thing that never ends
Music lives everywhere
can't escape it
can't replace it
Music is my life to me
music is what it is and will always be
Music is your strength
when you are weak
Music is your hope
when you are bleak
Music is made to be played
to fade
to serenade
Music is the gift everyone should give
music alone shall live
poem by U. Ashley Ogonor
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Little Broken Lines Do Not A World Make
LITTLE BROKEN LINES DO NOT A WORLD MAKE
Little broken lines do not a world make-
A poem without a music of its own
Is not much of a poem-
Once I had a rhythm I could hear;
I’ve lost it.
Bare lines appear,
They have no song-
I try in rereading
To feel their music,
But there is not much music in me now.
A poem at best should be a music all its own
I have no such music now-
If this is a poem, it is a lesser one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Marriage
in one house
they live
as married couple
she sings her videoke
in the sala
he works on his poems
in the computer room
and when the clock strikes
eleven
on such an unholy hour
she stops singing not to
disturb sleeping neighbors
he still writes poetry
till midnight
and when he
goes to bed she is now soundly asleep
and they sleep together
safe in love
that now
does not depend on the physical
but on the music and the poem
on the rhythm and the rhyme
both of them
in their 20 years of marriage
have become
one poem one music
that sex, which was once so good
is now put in another light
both curl up in the cold night
she is the song
& he is the poem
and they are still
one
after all those years
as marriage tells them from the beginning when they all said
'yes, i do'.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Goofy Music Poem
A million poems prior said music ran through their vein
If it was music not blood you bet it'd be my bane.
No, my metaphor be a much different one
Not even so, It's more like a pun
My music is my Muse-ic.
And what make this poem flow slick
Even more it's personified
He stuck with me as I tried and tried
My music is alliterated
from foe fabricating it does forbid.
what ever device you describe music in,
I can tell you one thing, it's not under my skin.
poem by Josh Brabender
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Because, music is my eternal life.......
When there is a song about love
then the music does become a soul of my heart
When I hug the melody of music
then I feel the spirit of words, traveling with me
When the voice of music passes in the air
then my ears are listening to its harmony
When I close my eyes and feel the rhythm of its music
then I dream an angel of its music goes around me
Melody is my love and the eternal music is my life
The music has its own story that plays with amazing emotions
and I can hear its beautiful song with touching rhythms
Let it be symphony, classic, jazz or hard rock
but everyone loves music which has only one language
in this universe that has known as Sound of Music.
Anyone who has no interest themselves in music
is nothing but dead bodies on the ground.
Because music is my eternal life.
poem by Ravi Sathasivam
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Music never dies
Music never dies,
Music never dies,
It is waking,
It is the making,
This is that euphony,
The movement
The inspiration,
This is that rythmic sounds,
The Sword came and washed me,
Music that hast taste,
Why you worry?
Music that can never fade,
Music that is the poetic minstrell,
Without this love,
I will fake and never increase,
The awakening glory,
That I made it again,
This crown is upon me, do not depose,
That I as Iam,
Made that crown fall upon my broken soul,
This is that sound of music,
This is that glory,
Behold I dwell on you,
That with your music,
All the demons run away.
poem by Maxim Muyu
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Where Does A Poem Begin?
WHAT DOES A POEM MEAN?
Where does a poem begin
And where does a life end
And what does it all mean?
The life the poem who and what we are
The stars will go on until they burn out and die in a time we will never see
The earth itself will go until it dies in the heat given by a dying sun.
All things lovely and beautiful
Grass and trees and lilacs and cities of love and people who care for each other
All good and great things-
Greater poems by far than this will forever not be
And music that makes the heart and mind more sublime.
All is vanity of vanity says the preacher.
Though not because it all returns to what it was
And repeats without end what it will continue to be
But because once and only once
Even our Universe will die.
Oh time oh life oh love oh peace
Oh words that try to mean
And cannot stay more than our own small instant of hearing and fearing
Death is our name
Death death death.
God forgive me
Only You can save us.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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