I live only in my music, and one composition is hardly finished before another is already begun.
Ludwig van Beethoven in letter to Franz Gerhard Wegeler (29 June 1800)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Wind Of The Human Spirit...
i climbed the mountain with Moses,
and watched in silent awe.
i lay in the well with Joseph,
as they tore my coat of many colors to shreds.
i stood on the rooftop with David,
watching Bathsheba bathe...
i walked to Gethsemene,
and wiped the tears from Jesus' face.
and when each had finished their task,
mine had just begun.
i sat under the tree with Buddha,
the image of my son burning my eyes.
and lost myself in the darkness,
to find my heart in the dawn.
i rode away with Lao-Tzu,
leaving words written on the wind.
i died with the last buffalo,
while the Great Spirit wept.
and when each had finished their task,
mine had just begun.
i was there the day the earth was formed,
i seperated the water from the land.
i crawled forth from the ocean,
without limbs or even a map.
i discovered fire in the cave,
and etched drawings on the wall...
and when each had finished their task,
mine had just begun....
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Listen To Music
Listen to music
To change your mood
A fast beat
May make you shrewd
Listen to music
Just to relax
A melodious one
May freeze you as wax
Listen to music
Out of some passion
A slow beat
May keep you from tension
Listen to music
With a fresh cool breeze
A divine rythm
May keep you in peace
Listen to music
To keep doctors away
A classic tune
May keep your ail at bay
Listen to music
When your mind goes dull
A Rehman's composition
May cheer you up well
Listen to music
Just before you sleep
A bethoven's melody
May make your's deep
Listen to music
When your worries attack you
Then see those worries
Running out of view
Listen to music
When you turn as a angry hound
Your favourite beat
May cool you down
Listen to music
But when time says ''no''
Sing a song
And live so long
poem by Abinaya Saravanan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wind Of The Human Spirit... (Part Two)
i came to America on a slave ship,
to work their fields in the sun.
and the earth i plowed gave up the bones,
of the ones they'd killed to make their home.
i hung from their trees in the moonlight,
as they drank with chests that swelled.
i signed the Emancipation Proclamation,
with the blood of the Civil War...
and when each had finished their task,
mine had just begun.
i felt the bomb at Hiroshima,
and became a nuclear ghost.
i swallowed napalm in Viet Nam,
while they protested on Kennedy's grave.
i was with Martin on the balcony,
and with Bobby on the floor...
and when each had finished their task,
mine had just begun.
i died for the rights of unions,
was buried with coal miners unnamed.
i picked fruit with illegal immigrants,
slept on the floor of southern jails.
i lived and died on factory floors,
stood in line when they sold my job.
i packed my belongings on the old truck,
the day the bank took our farm....
and when each had finished their task,
mine had just begun.
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I treat the photograph as a work of great complexity in which you can find drama. Add to that a careful composition of landscapes, live photography, the right music and interviews with people, and it becomes a style.
A Poem's Ne'er Finished
A Poem’s never finished
tis just entirely begun
If you’ve gone back and looked
To see just what it is that you’ve done
Ne’er a piece has been written
that couldn’t use a wee fix
A more profound phrase
To throw in the mix
Sometime it’s the inflection
Oft times it’s the prose
That could use some correction
A tiny tweak of it’s nose
Perchance an error, a bit of imperfect elocution
A slight awkward feel, now felt in the flow
Where before one saw only, eloquent execution
Needed changes, upon reflection, begin to show
Ne’er a piece is writ to perfection
When put the first time to submission
Tis only on rereading and a wee bit of reflection
That the betterments pop into one’s vision
Aye, it’s true, to like some, over the others
To think tis a fine job you’ve done
But let me suggest, my poetic sisters and brothers
That a poem’s ne’er finished…tis just entirely begun
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Is It Over
Written by ricky & marty wilde
Well theres a rumour out
Have you heard anything ?
And if you ask me now
Will I answer your question ?
In your eyes - I could hear you
Chorus:
Is it over
Is it over (or has it just begun)
Is it over
Is it over (or has it just begun)
You never thought it would get to this
And now youre sick with love
Do you think I can heal you
In my mind - I still hear you
Is it over (or has it just begun)
Is it over
Is it over (or has it just begun)
If I thought I was part of you
I would beg you to stay
But I cant live my time in this world
With the felling this way
Is it over (or has it just begun)
Is it over
Is it over (or has it just begun)
And so you ask me now
Have you done anything
And when youre reaching out
Do I still wanna hold you
In my mind - I can hear you
Chorus (repeat to fade)
song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wind Of The Human Spirit... (Part Three)
i slept in your homeless alleys,
grieved for the baby in the unwanted dumpster.
walked the streets with the pregnant young girl,
just turned away from the clinic.
watched the family that lives in their car,
buying sandwich food with food stamps.
saw the old man pull the plug on his sick wife,
and walk down the hallways to forgotten.
and when each had finished their task,
mine had just begun.
i broke the window with the angry young man,
crawled in and stole what i could.
i felt the junkie inser the needle,
and the whore being beaten to death.
i saw the boy raped by gang members,
down on cellblock C....
while the guard turned his head,
texting on his cellphone.
and when each had finished their task,
mine had just begun.
i watched them vote for indifference,
and drive away in SUV's.
and tonight their grandson committed suicide,
couldnt take the bullying anymore.
i saw gay lovers condemned to hell,
by those afraid to feel.
and the young Muslim girl afraid to walk home,
in the land of the free....
and when each had finished their task,
mine had just begun.
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I've always felt that there's a point where a piece seems to be alive, that is, living. And that's the point where I know the composition is finished.
quote by David Tudor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Teachers Are Afraid Of The Pupils
Theres too many people
Planning your downfall
When your spirits on trial
These nights can be frightening
Sleep transports sadness
To some other mid-brain
And somebody here
Will not be here next year
So you stand by the board
Full of fear and intention
And, if you think that theyre listening
Well, youve got to be joking
Oh, you understand change
And you think its essential
But when your profession
Is humiliation
Say the wrong word to our children ...
Well have you, oh yes, well have you
Lay a hand on our children
And its never too late to have you
Mucus on your collar
A nail up through the staff chair
A blade in your soap
And you cry into your pillow
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
Say the wrong word to our children ...
Well have you, oh yes, well have you
Lay a hand on our children
And its never too late to have you
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
Im very glad the spring has come
The sun shines out so bright
All the birds that are on the trees
Are singing for delight
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What I end up shooting is the situation. I shoot the composition and my subject is going to help the composition or not.
quote by Annie Leibovitz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's Music Time
It's Music Time - what shall I do?
It's Music Time today.
I haven't really thought it through
And it's Music Time today.
It doesn't have to last too long
This Music Time today.
We haven't finished our number work
We could miss Music Time today.
But Johnny and Jane will go berserk
If there's no Music Time today.
We could always sing that assembly song
At Music Time today.
I know they'll want to get the instruments out
At Music Time today.
But can I stand all that crashing about?
When it's Music Time today.
Maybe we could take turns to play?
At Music Time today.
And if there's too much noise we'll just put them away
At Music Time today.
poem by Karen Honnor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What I try to impart to a musician is to really try to practice the instrument in a really sincere way. Learn as much about music as you possibly can. Learn composition. Study to try to create compositions of your own and put your own personal touch on your music.
quote by Roscoe Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kids In America 94
Written by ricky & marty wilde
Everybody live for the music-go-round
Everybody live for the music-go-round
Looking out a dirty old window
Down below the cars in the
City go rushing by
I sit here alone
And I wonder why
Friday night and everyones moving
I can fell the heat
But its shooting
Heading down
I search for the beat in this dirty town
Everybody live for the music-go-round
Everybody live for the music-go-round
Were the kids in america
Were the kids in america
Everybody live for the music-go-round
Bright lights the music gets faster
Look boy, dont check on your watch
Not another glance
Im not leaving now, honey not a chance
Hot-shot, give me no problems
Much later baby youll be saying never mind
You know life is cruel, life is never kind
Everybody live for the music-go-round
Were the kids in america
Were the kids in america
Everybody live for the music-go-round
song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kids In America 94 (Cappella Mix)
Written by ricky & marty wilde
Everybody live for the music-go-round
Everybody live for the music-go-round
Looking out a dirty old window
Down below the cars in the
City go rushing by
I sit here alone
And I wonder why
Friday night and everyones moving
I can fell the heat
But its shooting
Heading down
I search for the beat in this dirty town
Everybody live for the music-go-round
Everybody live for the music-go-round
Were the kids in america
Were the kids in america
Everybody live for the music-go-round
Bright lights the music gets faster
Look boy, dont check on your watch
Not another glance
Im not leaving now, honey not a chance
Hot-shot, give me no problems
Much later baby youll be saying never mind
You know life is cruel, life is never kind
Everybody live for the music-go-round
Were the kids in america
Were the kids in america
Everybody live for the music-go-round
song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Weve Only Just Begun
Weve only just begun to live
White lace and promises
A kiss for luck and were on our way
Weve only just begun
Before the rising sun we fly
So many roads to choose
We start our walking
And learn to run
And yes! weve only just begun
(*) sharin horizons that are new to us
Watchin the signs along the way
Talkin it over just the two of us
Workin together day to day, together
(**) and when the evening comes we smile
So much of life ahead
Well find a place where theres room to grow
And yes! weve only just begun
Repeat (*)
Repeat (**)
song performed by by Carpenters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Completion Comprehension
A job well started equals a job well done,
As well does a job well finished,
Indicate a job well begun.
poem by Macy Dvirnak
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Parable Of The Blind
This horrible but superb painting
the parable of the blind
without a red
in the composition shows a group
of beggars leading
each other diagonally downward
across the canvas
from one side
to stumble finally into a bog
where the picture
and the composition ends back
of which no seeing man
is represented the unshaven
features of the des-
titute with their few
pitiful possessions a basin
to wash in a peasant
cottage is seen and a church spire
the faces are raised
as toward the light
there is no detail extraneous
to the composition one
follows the others stick in
hand triumphant to disaster
poem by William Carlos Williams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Are My Poems Finished/ And I Finished With Them?
ARE MY POEMS FINISHED/ AND I FINISHED WITH THEM?
Are my poems finished
And I finished with them?
Each day has a beauty of its own
Light, wind, trees, colors, flowers.
All I see
The cracks in the grey pavement before me.
The cool cool wind at my back
The prayer ahead.
Even this poem is not properly finished
And I a fool racing and rushing
Through another
Again and again and again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My intention here is to make it clear that not a single cell of my composition, here in regard to The Raven, is found by chance or intuition, that the composition moved towards perfection with the precision and inevitability of a mathematical equation.
quote by Maurice Ravel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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