Music Room
Enter this room of, profoundest bliss
Where knowledge anchors, black notes of soul
From caged aural form, to dark ravens wing
Fly perception’s tune, through yon window.
Return eternal as Escher would
Caw greetings to Mephistopheles
Pay his stanched toll, for my severed gourd
And sweet dirges sing, for my release.
Waste not one breath for carrion’s taste
Nor linger boughed, with crows in murder,
Nurture my caged soul, return with haste,
While I will pray at music’s altar
poem by Anthony Joseph Erangey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Alankar (Decor) -9
Soul Release
'Oh no, oh no, hey no, hey not you cry
O' my dear heart what gain gain you crying
What gain regained hollering and you try
Pain clutched you clutch patience till me flying
And me His child as I rest in His hand
You fill their hunt of fleshy need and thirst
Erst vow, again a sheep be not on land
As I to Him so pray no slay thrust first'
In haste the heart the sheep's on men mutters
'And you my soul shall plead for no altar
As me so laid butchered fixed by cutters'
But Hades bitters 'no soul shall taste nectar'
Oh Lord done can be what? to Hades his taste
To sheep their weep, to men their sin life waste?
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Follow Your Saint
1 Follow your saint, follow with accents sweet;
2 Haste you, sad notes, fall at her flying feet.
3 There, wrapp'd in cloud of sorrow, pity move,
4 And tell the ravisher of my soul I perish for her love:
5 But if she scorns my never-ceasing pain,
6 Then burst with sighing in her sight and ne'er return again.
7 All that I sung still to her praise did tend,
8 Still she was first; still she my songs did end;
9 Yet she my love and music both doth fly,
10 The music that her echo is and beauty's sympathy.
11 Then let my notes pursue her scornful flight:
12 It shall suffice that they were breath'd and died for her delight.
poem by Thomas Campion
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Caged Bird Cries...
i do not know why a caged bird sings?
or shall it sing when caged?
or shall it cry instead?
i know cages, and i have met some birds,
i have seen birds on cages
and i have heard them sing on trees
i have listened them when caged
it is not a song, but a cry,
it is not a dance, but a struggle,
it is not a poem, but the saddest prose.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sympathy
I know what the caged bird feels, alas!
When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;
When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass,
And the river flows like a stream of glass;
When the first bird sings and the first bud opes,
And the faint perfume from its chalice steals--
I know what the caged bird feels!
I know why the caged bird beats his wing
Till its blood is red on the cruel bars;
For he must fly back to his perch and cling
When he fain would be on the bough a-swing;
And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars
And they pulse again with a keener sting--
I know why he beats his wing!
I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,
When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,--
When he beats his bars and he would be free;
It is not a carol of joy or glee,
But a prayer that he sends from his heart's deep core,
But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings--
I know why the caged bird sings!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Free My Caged Soul
please, free my caged soul
lost in waves of pain and tears
let it fly away
haiku by Marius Alexandru (May 2020)
Submitted by anonym
Vote! | Copy!
Free Love
Caged.
Seeking out my hearts desires.
All that pass by the window to my soul,
Plant the seeds in my mind.
Desires, spreading like weeds,
Choking out the truth of my core.
Yet, I still pursue.
On a treadmill,
Getting no further ahead.
Running to stand still.
All at the expense of another.
All at the expense of my soul.
Hoarding every lie I purchase.
My soul pays the price.
A slave to my wants.
A victim to another's.
Two things given at birth.
Love, and free will.
But I must choose which I follow.
My will roams free.
My love is caged.
The death of my will,
Is what will set love free.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Where's the Music?
Can you hear the music's roar?
Can you feel the music's beat?
Can you read any ole musical score?
Can you clap your hands and stomp your feet?
Let the music lift you up and make you fly,
Let it envelop you and sing a sweet tune
As your thoughts are away, floating in the sky,
The music will not let the return any time soon.
But a life without music,
A life without song,
Is only when you choose it,
And my friend, that decision is wrong.
So open your soul and let the ballads in,
Because a life without music feels to me a sin.
poem by Alex M.ller
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Devotion ii
FOLLOW your saint, follow with accents sweet!
Haste you, sad notes, fall at her flying feet!
There, wrapt in cloud of sorrow, pity move,
And tell the ravisher of my soul I perish for her love:
But if she scorns my never-ceasing pain,
Then burst with sighing in her sight, and ne'er return again!
All that I sung still to her praise did tend;
Still she was first, still she my songs did end;
Yet she my love and music both doth fly,
The music that her echo is and beauty's sympathy:
Then let my notes pursue her scornful flight!
It shall suffice that they were breathed and died for her delight.
poem by Thomas Campion
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and is tune is heard
on the distant hillfor the caged bird
sings of freedom
The free bird thinks of another breeze
an the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
poem by Maya Angelou
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Caged Bird
The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
poem by Maya Angelou (1994)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy! | In Spanish | In Romanian
Response To Maya Angelou
And a man in a room can be a caged beast
where Death himself has come 'long to feast
upon his soul, so he's never pleased
And he longs for what? He can't be sure
For a man in a room can get up and leave
but chooses to sit and cry on his sleeeve
A slave by his own choosing, but he will not believe
when you tell him theres something more pure
He'll look at a lake and swear that it's dry
With dark clouds in his mind
his eyes can't find the sky
His worries prevent him from seeing just why
He has shackled himself with invisible chains
He'll look out his window but only see his reflection
He's all about appearances and passing inspections
He may see the mistake, but not know the correction
or be able to tell his Heart from his Brain
(December,2011)
poem by Ray Quesada
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Beautiful Bird That Cannot Escape From The Cage
there is a beautiful bird caged in my house
its flumes are red
its beak of course is black
its claws neat and clean
and cannot scratch
its eyes blank
its feathers dull
(perhaps she is bored to death
but she is still that beautiful bird caged in the heart
of my house)
when she sings
usually in the night before everyone sleeps
everyone hears
what sadness lies in the heart of its
throat
i know that it wants to escape from the cage in the heart of the house
but someone more cruel
wants it caged
forever
there is a beautiful red bird caged in my heart
i want it set free
she understands it well
she wants to be free
i know it too well
but things will just be what it is
there is nothing we can do
she is the beautiful red feathered bird caged
and shall never be free
like the stairs, like the walls, like the beams like the stars
shall this red bird be.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Return!
RETURN, return! all night my lamp is burning,
All night, like it, my wide eyes watch and burn;
Like it, I fade and pale, when day returning
Bears witness that the absent can return,
Return, return.
Like it, I lessen with a lengthening sadness,
Like it, I burn to waste and waste to burn,
Like it, I spend the golden oil of gladness
To feed the sorrowy signal for return,
Return, return.
Like it, like it, whene'er the east wind sings,
I bend and shake; like it, I quake and yearn,
When Hope's late butterflies, with whispering wings,
Fly in out of the dark, to fall and burn--
Burn in the watchfire of return,
Return, return.
Like it, the very flame whereby I pine
Consumes me to its nature. While I mourn
My soul becomes a better soul than mine,
And from its brightening beacon I discern
My starry love go forth from me, and shine
Across the seas a path for thy return,
Return, return.
Return, return! all night I see it burn,
All night it prays like me, and lifts a twin
Of palmed praying hands that meet and yearn--
Yearn to the impleaded skies for thy return.
Day, like a golden fetter, locks them in,
And wans the light that withers, tho' it burn
As warmly still for thy return;
Still thro' the splendid load uplifts the thin
Pale, paler, palest patience that can learn
Naught but that votive sign for thy return--
That single suppliant sign for thy return,
Return, return.
Return, return! lest haply, love, or e'er
Thou touch the lamp the light have ceased to burn,
And thou, who thro' the window didst discern
The wonted flame, shalt reach the topmost stair
To find no wide eyes watching there,
No wither'd welcome waiting thy return!
A passing ghost, a smoke-wreath in the air,
The flameless ashes, and the soulless urn,
Warm with the famish'd fire that lived to burn--
Burn out its lingering life for thy return,
Its last of lingering life for thy return,
Its last of lingering life to light thy late return,
Return, return.
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
She Touches A Sad String Of Soft Recall
Return, return! all night my lamp is burning,
All night, like it, my wide eyes watch and burn;
Like it, I fade and pale, when day returning
Bears witness that the absent can return,
Return, return.
Like it, I lessen with a lengthening sadness,
Like it, I burn to waste and waste to burn,
Like it, I spend the golden oil of gladness
To feed the sorrowy signal for return,
Return, return.
Like it, like it, whene'er the east wind sings,
I bend and shake; like it, I quake and yearn,
When Hope's late butterflies, with whispering wings,
Fly in out of the dark, to fall and burn-
Burn in the watchfire of return,
Return, return.
Like it, the very flame whereby I pine
Consumes me to its nature. While I mourn
My soul becomes a better soul than mine,
And from its brightening beacon I discern
My starry love go forth from me, and shine
Across the seas a path for thy return,
Return, return.
Return, return! all night I see it burn,
All night it prays like me, and lifts a twin
Of palmèd praying hands that meet and yearn-
Yearn to the impleaded skies for thy return.
Day, like a golden fetter, locks them in,
And wans the light that withers, tho' it burn
As warmly still for thy return;
Still thro' the splendid load uplifts the thin
Pale, paler, palest patience that can learn
Nought but that votive sign for thy return-
That single suppliant sign for thy return,
Return, return.
Return, return! lest haply, love, or e'er
Thou touch the lamp the light have ceased to burn,
And thou, who thro' the window didst discern
The wonted flame, shalt reach the topmost stair
To find no wide eyes watching there,
No withered welcome waiting thy return!
A passing ghost, a smoke-wreath in the air,
The flameless ashes, and the soulless urn,
Warm with the famished fire that lived to burn-
Burn out its lingering life for thy return,
Its last of lingering life for thy return,
Its last of lingering life to light thy late return,
Return, return.
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Music Thy Innerself Reveals
music is the language of the soul,
a rhythm that beats, a meaning that
pitch
it becomes the window of the soul,
a destiny beyond the horizon of
every man's heart
every lyric fulfills every one's soul,
that there is a moment of our life
beneath every breath is a choice
of music to sing
that every life has its own tune,
produces different pitch that when all
is played it gives harmony of meaning
that only you can give the meaning
in every note you sing, that harmonizes
the decrescendo and crescendo in
each line
as it faces the final high pitch, that only
you can reach the melody
the song that you want to listen
as it pleases in your heart
sing every note that you can do,
take always the beautiful pitch that you can
reach, never give up, for only
in singing that music
lives in you
music in you, now its you
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet XXV: Can'st Thou Forget
Can'st thou forget, O! Idol of my Soul!
Thy Sappho's voice, her form, her dulcet Lyre!
That melting ev'ry thought to fond desire,
Bade sweet delerium o'er thy senses roll?
Can'st thou, so soon, renounce the blest control
That calm'd with pity's tears love's raging fire,
While Hope, slow breathing on the trembling wire,
In every note with soft persuasion stole?
Oh! Sov'reign of my heart! return! return!
For me no spring appears, no summers bloom,
No Sun-beams glitter, and no altars burn!
The mind's dark winter of eternal gloom,
Shews 'midst the waste a solitary urn,
A blighted laurel, and a mould'ring tomb!
poem by Mary Darby Robinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Loneliness In You...
a lonely soul
speaks
the sweetest
like a bird
that you trapped
with the sap
of the jack fruit tree
now caged
inside your
mind
so must you
sing now
shy away from prose
onward
the language of the music of
your soul
how lonely must it be
but how sweetest
so must you speak no more
about
where you are
and when and
why
you are what you are now
oh! lonely self
speaking with the silence of
the deepest ocean
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Morte
Bring us but grief they say
Tears of mourning
You cannot say what is not true
For it’s he who brings us to life
Kills by the millions
Day and night
A celebration is heard
For the gone of a soul
Tears of joy
Tears of happiness
All applauding for his return
Murder of one
Murder of all
Welcome back at your return
poem by Michael Zavala
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Let It All Be Music
Music is a mirror
Near around my soul
Music is the spirit
Come on let it roll
Music is my nature
People have you heard
Music is my future
Music is the world
Let it all be music
People sing a song
Let it all be music
Let us sing it on and on and on and on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on and on and on
Music isnt somewhere
Music turns you right
Music is a fever
Leads you day and night
Music is like heaven
Where you wanna be
Music is religion
Music sets you free
Let it all be music
People sing a song
Let it all be music
Let us sing it on and on and on and on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on and on and on
Music is tomorrow
Music is today
Music is forever
Music is the way
Music is for women
Music is for men
Music is for children
Sing it all again
Let it all be music
People sing a song
Let it all be music
Let us sing it on and on and on and on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on and on and on
I can feel it, in my soul
I can feel it, in my heart
Sweet sweet sweet music
Music
Sweet sweet sweet music
Sweet music
Play it on
Play it on
My my my my my kind of music
Play it
Play the music
My my my my my kind of music
Play it
I said play it
On and on and on and on
Music
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Lovers Bliss......(a loss of true love)
Lovers Bliss
She wept with sorrow her tears down fall
Upon the ground of blood and gore
There in lies her lover's heart
That beats no more close to hers
Her heart that is heavy with out lover's bliss
She sends out a cry of gruesome death
'Why have thou forsaken me
And left me broken in sorrow and gloom'
Her tears doth fall
Like a waterfall at the loss
Of her lover in their lover's bliss no more
She recalls the days thine heart and soul left her arms
They held each other in arms entwine
Thou whispered softly upon her ears
I shall return to our lover's bliss
The memories linger on in her mind
As it dapples across her dreams
Thine tender hands caressed my soul
With loving hands a burning aching need
The passion intense with each passing kiss
We climb on high at the ecstasy of love and bliss
She cries a mountain of tears
As the memories linger on in her dreams
So deathly quite she stands atop a cliff
And trembles with remorse and pain
How can she live her life?
With out their lover's bliss
Looking towards the twilight skies
She screams at the stars above
"Crushed am I no more to live I need you by my side"
Then taking a step into the dark abyss
She joins her lover in eternal bliss
© Copyright Kaila George 2012
poem by Kaila George
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!