Poems about Music
PostedApril 22, 2011
And far into the night he crooned that tune.
The stars went out and so did the moon.
The singer stopped playing and went to bed
While the Weary Blues echoed through his head...
From "The Weary Blues" by Langston Hughes
From the trumpet, pawned, redeemed, pawned again
you formed one wrenching blue arrangement, a phrase
complicated as that twilit dive through smoke, applause...
From "Lost Fugue for Chet" by Lynda Hull
More poems about Music:
|A Book of Music|
by Jack Spicer
Coming at an end, the lovers...
|Alexander's Feast; or, the Power of Music|
by John Dryden
'Twas at the royal feast for Persia won...
by Edgar Lee Masters
The earth keeps some vibration going...
by Bob Hicok
A few hours after Des Moines...
|Here and Now|
by Stephen Dunn
There are words / I've had to save myself from...
|Honky Tonk in Cleveland, Ohio|
by Carl Sandburg
It's a jazz affair, drum crashes and cornet razzes...
|Hymn to God, My God, in My Sickness|
by John Donne
Since I am coming to that Holy room...
|Hymn to the Night|
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I heard the trailing garments of the Night...
|Interlude: Still Still|
by Robin Behn
Inside the hole, where it's yellow...
|Latin & Soul|
by Victor Hernández Cruz
some waves / a wave of now / a trombone...
by Marianne Boruch
Everyone should have a little fugue, she says...
|Lost Fugue for Chet|
by Lynda Hull
A single spot slides the trumpet's flare then stops...
|Lullaby in Blue|
by Betsy Sholl
The child takes her first journey...
|On 52nd Street|
by Philip Levine
Down sat Bud, raised his hands...
|Passing Through Albuquerque|
by John Balaban
At dusk, by the irrigation ditch...
by Katrina Vandenberg
Late night July, Minnesota...
by Robert Pinsky
Sweet Babylon, headphones. Song bones...
|The Day Duke Raised: May 24th, 1974|
by Quincy Troupe
that day began with a shower...
by Federico García Lorca
The weeping of the guitar...
|The Last Evening|
by Steven Kronen
And night and the large wheels turning...
|The Owl and the Pussy-Cat|
by Edward Lear
The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea...
by Mark Jarman
In Ball's Market after surfing till noon...
|The Waltz We Were Born For|
by Walt McDonald
I never knew them all, just hummed...
|The Weary Blues|
by Langston Hughes
Droning a drowsy syncopated tune...
by David Meltzer
Art's desire to get it all said...