Have a listen to this famously sorrowful piece of classical music and write a poem to it. What kind of sorrow do you hear? Grief? Loneliness? Melancholia? Let us know in the comments below.
Living Poetry
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June Musical Poetry Prompt
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9 thoughts on “June Musical Poetry Prompt”
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Living Poetry 
The Sound of Sorrow
It spoke
without words,
yet I understood—
a language of aching strings
and bowed silences.
It was not just music.
It was memory weeping,
a slow, unraveling
of all we tried to hold together.
In its sorrow,
I heard more than sound:
I heard
grief draped in dignity,
loneliness wearing yesterday’s scent,
and melancholia—
curled in the corners
of an old photo album
no one dares open.
Yes,
the music told me—
some pain
sings forever.
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Posted by Fay Ann Swearing | June 30, 2025, 11:07 AMLove it. Especially the aching strings and bowed silences. Great job!
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | June 30, 2025, 8:12 PMMelody
A violinist
played a piece
I knew I heard before.
His open case
lay at his feet
to catch a coin or two.
He didn’t seem
to care if he was paid
to serenade.
The trees bent down
to hear the notes
and rustled leaves in joy.
The birds sang
as a chorus
to the melody of strings.
The wind caught
all his music, and spread
it through the town.
Although he played
so sweetly, I heard
sadness underneath.
The last note plucked,
he packed and left,
and vanished into fog.
I’ll walk by this way
again to ask him
what he played.
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Posted by crazy4yarn2 | June 30, 2025, 4:06 PMGreat work, especially the trees rustling their leave in joy. Well done!
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | June 30, 2025, 8:16 PMBoy, do you know how to pick them…
Driving home from my mother’s home
the day after her estate sale,
listening to this, Isle of the Dead
and Number 7, Second movement
wondering if any written word could
approximate the emotional density of music… and this prompt comes up… right…
Here is my response, “zipped tight” “wrapped in white” with bloody hand-prints all over it:
NO
My lack of skill masks this painful truth that we all face… Nevertheless, “i will write this poem again and again and again”
———————————————–
raised on a dais
surrounded by plastic grass
green against the fallow soil
moist fecundity
alive
indifferent
still
time still
time already
be, am, is, are
was, were, been
see?
i never saw him
he said that he would be released
zipped tight
his body, wrapped in white
smooth
seemingly pliable
never breakable
never punctured
from these times
from this anguish
from the pain
from his life
from my passion
from our drive
from her loss
from the need:
Connection
with blood from my hands
i will write this poem
again
and again
and again
“I will be set free”
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Posted by Chris Clarke | June 30, 2025, 6:01 PMPowerful stuff, Chris! I thought this music would knock loose some poetry.
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | June 30, 2025, 8:19 PMI don’t know if this will work…
Plus ca change, plus c’est le meme chose…
https://lenticularus9.wixsite.com/my-site-1/post/circa-1985
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Posted by Chris Clarke | June 30, 2025, 10:06 PM