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The publisher is a middleman, he calls the tune to which the whole rest of the trade dances; and he does so because he pays the piper.
quote by Geoffrey Faber
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For Shrill The Piper Plays His Tune
When thoughts are idle wanderings
Words tumbled round and round
When feelings they turn inwardly
Still I hear the piper's sound.
When happiness is broken
And the Kings and Queens are gone
The piper's tune keeps playing
And I hear his victory song.
For even when awoken
From the sleepiness of time
There's a distant music playing
Heard clear within my mind
For shrill the piper plays his tune
That beckons every day
And when his tune is full played out
He carries us away.
No-one has seen this piper man
And no-one has seen him play
But we all can hear his mournfulness
And fear for what he'll say
No folds of fathered cornfields
And no breaking of the bread
The piper's tune keeps playing
With his words as yet unsaid.
For shrill the piper plays his tune
That beckons every day
And when his tune is full played out
He carries us away.
We can all hear if we but try
The piper's song so sweet
The musings and meanderings
Of souls lost whole complete
No piper plays before we're born
Before we touch the earth
The piper's tunes they all begin
From the moment of our birth.
For shrill the piper plays his tune
Like happiness disease'd
And all the notes that he plays out
Are our moments ill at ease.
Not one of us pays him to play
Nor gives him any score
For every note that he blows out
Is fully paid before
We entertain our wanderings
And confusion in the mind
For the piper's very soul turns out
To be both yours and mine.
For shrill the piper plays his tune
That beckons every day
And when his tune is full played out
He carries us away.
poem by David Keig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Piper (#2)
When I'm confused and wandering
On a journey with no end
My feelings they turn in on me
Uncertain who's my friend
It's then the piper plays his tune
That beckons every day
And when his tuned is full played out
He carries us away.
We can all hear if we but try
The pipers song so sweet
The musings and meanderings
Of souls lost whole comlete
No piper plays before we are born
Before we touch this earth
The pipers tunes they all begin
From the moment of our birth.
For shrill the piper plays his tune
Like happiness diseased
And all the notes that he plays out
Are our moments ill at ease
No-one it seems pays him to pay
Nor gives him any score
For every note that he blows out
Is paid for by that war
The one that's fought in solitude
And in that loneliness we find
That the pipers very soul turns out
To be both yours and mine.
For shrill the piper plays his tune
That beckons every day
And when his tune is full played out
He carries us away.
poem by David Keig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Piper Calls The Tune
He wields his flute with an expert hand
And then, all too soon
The dancing stops and the children stand
The piper calls the tune.
He holds their future in his palm
An old and powerful man
With missiles poised and bombs at hand
They wait for his command.
With songs of fear and bigotry
A cruel, hypnotic sound
He plays his last tune greedily
And strikes the children down.
song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pipe Piper
The Pipe Piper blows a lively tune,
Melody so rich, you will surely swoon,
Through the narrow street and alleyway,
The rat did not come out to play
The cat did come and it did sat
I bet curiosity kills the cat.
Listening, a pair of furry ears,
Piper boy takes away its fears.
An audience of one may not be dandy,
However, the cat will come in handy.
He sends the cat to hunt the pesky rats
They hide in the sewage and in the gaps.
The Pipe Piper work will soon be done,
He and the cat has become one.
Oh! I lost the bet, He didn't kill the cat!
Piper At The Gates Of Dawn
Piper at the gates of dawn
The coolness of the riverbank, and the whispering of the reeds
Daybreak is not so very far away
Enchanted and spellbound, in the silence they lingered
And rowed the boat as the light grew steadily strong
And the birds were silent, as they listened for the heavenly music
And the river played the song
The wind in the willows and the piper at the gates of dawn
The wind in the willows and the piper at the gates of dawn
The song dream happened and the cloven hoofed piper
Played in that holy ground where they felt the awe and wonder
And they all were unafraid of the great God pan
And the wind in the willows and the piper at the gates of dawn
The wind in the willows and the piper at the gates of dawn
When the vision vanished they heard a choir of birds singing
In the heavenly silence between the trance and the reeds
And they stood upon the lawn and listened to the silence
Of the wind in the willows and the piper at the gates of dawn
The wind in the willows and the piper at the gates of dawn
The wind in the willows and the piper at the gates of dawn
Its the wind in the willows and the piper at the gates of dawn
The wind in the willows and the piper at the gates of dawn
The wind in the willows and the piper at the gates of dawn
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Per Ardua ad Astra 1126 Initial Version
Where pain through rage would play wild tune
then, lonely, piper pays,
don't stain the page beneath the moon
with tireless tears, blacks, greys,
again find framework for bright rune
preparing brighter days.
If heart turns dark when blue lagoon
seems hidden, who obeys
Reaction fractions very soon,
sub_traction which dismays.
Response is renaissance, balloon
above sharp past, harp plays.
Yet who with such a moral takes
that way, corrects his own mistakes?
(30 March 2005)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From Reaction to Response - 1126 2009 Version
Where PAIN through RAGE would play wild tune
then, lonely, piper pays,
don't stain page beneath gibbous moon
with tireless tears, blacks, greys,
again find framework for bright rune
preparing brighter days.
If heart turns dark when blue lagoon
seems hidden, who obeys
REACTION fractions very soon,
sub_traction which dismays.
RESPONSE is renaissance, balloon
above sharp past, harp plays.
Yet who with such a moral takes
that track retracts his own mistakes?
(30 March 2005)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Monumental task for My grandaughter Chitra
A garden walled in rose red brick.
Which traps the sun and holds the heat
our forbears did not miss a trick.
Few modern gardens can compete.
Fruit trees espaliered to the walls
and cultivated carefully
The garden echoed to the calls
of children playing happily.
And so it was for centuries.
But family fortunes rise and fall.
We must endure what fare decrees
we have no choice no choice at all.
The garden fell into neglect
with weeds self seeding where they chose.
There’s little else you could expect.
As any good gardener knows.
.
The garden now belongs to me.
I have the means I have the will.
I will restore it perfectly
I can employ the men with skill.
To do all that needs to be done
a task that I will supervise.
It is too much for me alone
So I must listen to advice.
I will create a paradise
concealed within the rose red walls.
That is well ordered and precise.
The man who pays the piper calls
the tune.I can afford to pay
and what I seek is harmony.
A formal garden which today
is something of a rarity.
A cherished dream I can make true
Restore it as it used to be.
It’s something which I have to do.
In my ancestors memory.
My great grand father twice removed
created it originally
I am convinced it was well loved
by him and all his family.
This garden will be loved again
when restoration is complete.
My work will not have been in vain
I complement I don’t compete.
I followed carefully the plan
of how grandfather laid it out.
A monument to the old man
He would approve I have no doubt..
28-Feb-09
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Singer Sang His Song
Hed sing his song most evry night
Wishing she was there behind the light
The people danced and sang along
On the cardboard stage he never sang it wrong
And the piper played the tune
And the drummer wore his spurs
But the song that the singer sang was for her
Now the singers song is never heard
And the visions he once saw are disappeared
Now they never dance or sing along
But on the cardboard stage he never sang it wrong
And the piper played the tune
And the drummer wore his spurs
But the song that the singer sang was for her
(break)
Ah..........
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Better Get Back In Bed
(pied piper)
(Id better get back in bed)
(hope Ill see you again)
(pied piper)
(Id better get back in bed)
(hope Ill see you again)
(pied piper)
(Id better get back in bed)
(hope Ill see you again)
(pied piper)
(Ill be running along)
Thirty seconds after he was in bed
He fell back to sleep
The next morning
He had forgotten all about
What had happened the night before
But when night time came once again
His thoughts somehow found their way back
To remembering the fascinating episode of the night before
He he turned out his bedroom light
And sat in his favorite chair
Thoughts danced in his head for a while
Suppose I went to check and see if my transistor is still down there he
Said I wonder what would happen
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Music is a gift
Don’t boast you’re
A music lover.
Listen to that boy
Who beats with tals,
To the tune of piper
With meticulous perfection.
You would falter
If you took his place.
28.04.2002, pkd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Piper On The Hills
A CHILD'S SONG
There sits a piper on the hill
Who pipes the livelong day,
And when he pipes both loud and shrill,
The frightened people say
‘The wind, the wind is blowing up,
'Tis rising to a gale.’
The women hurry to the shore
To watch some distant sail.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
Is blowing to a gale.
But when he pipes all sweet and low,
The piper on the hill,
I hear the merry women go
With laughter, loud and shrill
‘The wind, the wind is coming south,
'Twill blow a gentle day.’
They gather on the meadow-land,
To toss the yellow hay.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
Is blowing south to-day.
And in the morn, when winter comes,
To keep the piper warm,
The little Angels shake their wings
To make a feather storm
‘The snow, the snow has come at last!’
The happy children call,
And ‘ring around’ they dance in glee,
And watch the snowflakes fall.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
Has spread a snowy pall.
But when at night the piper plays,
I have not any fear,
Because God's windows open wide
The pretty tune to hear;
And when each crowding spirit looks,
From its star window-pane,
A watching mother may behold
Her little child again.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
May blow her home again.
poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pibroch Dhu For Jim Hogg
The piper plays his sad lament
Alone upon the bleak hillside.
A bitter hymn of discontent
recalling those who bravely died.
A living breathing testament
to regimented homicide.
The piper plays his sad lament
alone upon the bleak hillside.
This world is not as it was meant
The ten commandments are defied
as warfare rages far and wide.
As in the past and the present.
The piper plays his sad lament.
poem by Ivor .e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Whistler
Ill buy you six bay mares to put in your stable ---
Six golden apples bought with my pay.
I am the first piper who calls the sweet tune,
But I must be gone by the seventh day.
So come on, Im the whistler.
I have a fife and a drum to play.
Get ready for the whistler.
I whistle along on the seventh day ---
Whistle along on the seventh day.
All kinds of sadness Ive left behind me.
Manys the day when I have done wrong.
But Ill be yours for ever and ever.
Climb in the saddle and whistle along.
So come on, Im the whistler.
I have a fife and a drum to play.
Get ready for the whistler.
I whistle along on the seventh day ---
Whistle along on the seventh day.
Deep red are the sun-sets in mystical places.
Black are the nights on summer-day sands.
Well find the speck of truth in each riddle.
Hold the first grain of love in our hands.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pay The Piper
There comes a time
when all of us must pay
the piper so they say.
Pay for all the wrongs
credited to our life,
pay for all the things
we should have done,
but never got around to do.
Pay for any hurt we’ve caused
when came to call
and we never did respond.
No one is ever perfect,
we’ve all got our crosses
that we have to bare.
So when it comes to paying
the piper so they say.
I guess we’ll all have to pay.
21 January 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Piper That Gets Paid Knows
No one wishes to leave,
Perceptions of weakness.
Especially when financial debts...
Are handled to keep beliefs,
And people deceived...
For purposes to maintain,
A way of life sustained by delusions.
And marketing a plan that is well conceived
With discreet meetings kept secret...
Between those who know,
Who owes what to who.
Regardless of conflicting images,
Of dominance and superiority in public view!
What is due and who pays it...
Only the piper that gets paid,
Knows.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Big Money
More info about this song in the song database
My older brother tommy was a lineman rest his soul
His job was hanging hot wires on them high-line power poles
Every morning bright and early hed climb way up in the sky
And I never understood it so one day I asked him why
Chorus:
He said it pays big money and man Im into that
It pays big money if youre willing to take a chance
Let me tell you something sonny, you ought to see my bank account
It pays big money but he sure cant spend it now
Well, my late uncle charlie was this demolition hound
Hed travel across the country blowing buildings to the ground
He carried a case of dynamite seemed everywhere he went
He smoked them big long cigars and hed wink at you and grin
Repeat first chorus
Well now the moral of this story boys, is dont go getting yourself killed
Be kind to your rich relatives they just might put you in their will
Chorus:
That pays big money and were all into that
It pays big money and big moneys where its at
Let me tell you something sonny, you ought to see my bank account
It pays big money and were rolling in it now
Chorus:
It pays big money having foolish kin
It pays big money guess I owe it all to them
Let me show you something sonny, take a look at this bank account
It pays big money; lets all spend some of it now
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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