Music is the wine which inspires one to new generative processes, and I am Bacchus who presses out this glorious wine for mankind and makes them spiritually drunken.
quote by Ludwig van Beethoven
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Wine (Love Poem)
Wine is for laughing
Wine is for talking all night
Wine is for living life out loud
Wine is for making us beautiful
Wine is for all-night conversations
Wine is for getting together again
Wine is for ‘never again’ tomorrow
Wine is for sleeping like a baby
Wine is for telling the truth
Wine is food for love
Wine is friendship
Wine is fresh
Wine
Can
Be
The
One
Perfe ct
Companion
At the end of a long day
poem by Ian Beckett
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Red, Sparkling Wine
I Have Seen A Sight
Of a Man Falling Down …
… it wasn’t for a Fight
… but it was due to what He’d Found …
… Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… She Should Be A Crime …
Red Sparkling Wine…
She Starts out – Flowing – Smooth
Gets in Your Blood – Then You got Somethin’ to Prove!
You Chase Her Intoxicating Perfume
… must be Brand X … or Lady-Doom …
… Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… Feeling So Sublime …
Red Sparkling Wine…
… Sweet from the Vine, but She ain’t Vintage
Make You Loose Your Mind and Your Hard-Earned Wages
Her Cheap-Thrills… can’t Heal a Heart, that’s Bruised …
You ain’t in Love! … just in a Bottle of Booze …
of Red Sparkling Wine… Once in awhile is Fine
Red Sparkling Wine… Know the Warning Signs ….
of Red Sparkling Wine…
She’s Beautiful, as She Pours
Your Problems – Passed-Out, on The Floor
She’s Crystal-Blood in an Hour-Glass
Her Pity-Promises… just don’t Last…
Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… She’ll have You begging for Dimes …
… to buy … Red Sparkling Wine…
She’ll leave You Broke, You won’t be able to Think
She’s ‘Madam Dope’ … if You Need One More Drink
… of Red Sparkling Wine… Just a Matter of Time
Red Sparkling Wine… Have Another… ‘ Cause I’m …
… Red Sparkling Wine …
poem by MoonBee Canady
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Bottle Of Red Wine
(by bonnie bramlett and eric clapton)
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
I cant get up out of bed
With this crazy feeling in my head.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
You hear what I say?
Gonna love you anyway.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
I went to an all-night get together
And everyone I knew was there.
Had the love that would last forever.
Everywhere I looked, I saw you standing there.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
I cant get up out of bed
With this crazy feeling in my head.
I said get up right now, oh oh.
I said get up right now.
Feel so bad this morning; got a terrible headache in my head.
Do me a favor, baby, do me a favor please.
Please get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up, get up; get your man a big big bottle of red wine.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Music, My Life
Its music that wakes me up every morning
You can hear it even when people are mourning
Its music that makes everything great
By being everyone’s best mate
Its music that brings joy in our lives
With blues, pop and beautiful jives
Its music that makes us strive and run
In fights which are needed to be won
Its music that serves as a guiding light
Helping us cope in days of sorrow and plight
Its music that stands beside us
When we need someone to delight us
Its music that serves as an inspiration
Supporting us always without a reason
Its music that goes best with food and wine
And undoubtedly it is considered divine
Its music that makes us progress
As we finish every task with success
Its music that will combat all our fears
As it is a Goddess for our ears
poem by Rohan Saxena
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How Yearn I For A Potioned Wine – This Night!
How yearn I for a potioned wine – this night!
How race and run the drops of blood
How race the red, red drops of blood – this night!
How from the face of heaven the clouds
Seem swept away by some full-scathing broom
How smiling the pale moon!
Ah! methinks that the moon, the modest moon
Has in itself somehow sometime infused
The red, red drops of Bacchus – lo in it
The wanness cool is turning to a red
And on its cheek already ruddying goeth:
And merry looks the moon this merry night.
Never would I have thought the moon to be
Votary of Bacchus and his ivied green:
Nor of its conquest by the sweaty arms
Of satyrs fauns and nymphs of Bacchus wild:
And in my cheeks like the wan moon
So will I potion myself with red, red wine
Cool from the earth in cooler beakers kept
Delicious as the drops of red, red blood
Were to Dracula.
Then will I yearn to sleep and drowse and dream.
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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From Grape To Wine
If you were to say I don’t exist
This grape would not argue
Longing to be wine
Makes me disreputable
Lowers self respect
A grape begins to become wine when it says
“Pressure is necessary to burst open”
Sweet wine flows from surrender
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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The Vine
The wine of Love is music,
And the feast of Love is song:
And when Love sits down to the banquet,
Love sits long:
Sits long and arises drunken,
But not with the feast and the wine;
He reeleth with his own heart,
That great, rich Vine.
poem by James Thomson
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Intravino
Words: d. hall, j. oates, s. allen
Music: d. hall
Johnny walker leaves me black and red
And sick in the head
Cuervo gold so Im told
Will make you useless in bed
Gimme o.j. with my stolichnaya
And the fires burn inside
Tanquerey gets me higher and higher
Dont like the rock & rye
Oh yeah need intravino
Oh yeah need intravino
Gimme wine, wine, I need intravino
Wine, wine, I need it every day-o
Wine, wine, mis en bouteilles au chateau
All the time, I need wine all the time.
Six oclock gotta have beaujolais
Eight oclock I open up pouilly-fuiss? love the ruby color. grand cru classe
Never love another once Ive savored that bouquet
Oh yeah need intravino
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Honey And Wine
My daddy used to tell me
When I was under his wing
If you want to live a good life
Just remember one thing
Though the world that we live in
Can be so unkind
If you love a good woman
It's all honey and wine
Less I could do
I thought my daddy was wrong
Girl, I was so lonely
And then you came along
You get and said hold me
You get the kissin' was fine
Now I ready for the tastin'
Was the honey and wine
It's all honey and wine now
It's all honey and wine
If you love a good woman, yeah
It's all honey and wine
break
It's all honey and wine now
It's all honey and wine
If you love a good woman, yeah
It's all honey and wine
It's all honey and wine now
It's all honey and wine
It's all honey and wine
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Red wine, rain and my thoughts
Red wine,
rain
and my thoughts
but there's something missing
how can I say I don't know
everywhere is desolate, and
every corner in this city
hides your image
that makes me more thoughtful.
Red wine,
rain
and my thoughts,
sometimes I can't take a breath
and I can't hold my tears,
day by day living in this city,
without you
that's just meaningless.
Red wine,
rain
and my thoughts,
you are endless hope
all I have in this life
that takes me behind of the worlds
where I've found you with all my heart
Red wine,
rain
and my thoughts,
red wine is my dream
that ornament whole my life,
rain is your voice
that's always in my ears,
and my thoughts is just you who is also me
red wine,
rain
and my thoughts
written by Turgay HINIZ, Agust 2007, Sydney.
poem by Turgay Hiniz
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Wine Red
Wine red
Like rose petals against the snow
Wine red
Like crimson apple pierced with an arrow
Wine red
Like blood emitting from the skin
Wine red
Like her ruby lipstick used for sin
Wine red
The drink that lovers share
Wine red
A drink to forget a nightmare
Like Snow White fooled
She ate the poison apple;
A death of beauty
But their dirty and wicked sins
Will be recovered with an enthusiastic fury
poem by Verona Valentine
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Poem 14
NOw al is done; bring home the bride againe,
bring home the triumph of our victory,
Bring home with you the glory of her gaine,
With ioyance bring her and with iollity.
Neuer had man more ioyfull day then this,
Whom heauen would heape with blis.
Make feast therefore now all this liue long day,
This day for euer to me holy is,
Poure out the wine without restraint or stay,
Poure not by cups, but by the belly full,
Poure out to all that wull,
And sprinkle all the postes and wals with wine,
That they may sweat, and drunken be withall.
Crowne ye God Bacchus with a coronall,
And Hymen also crowne with wreathes of vine,
And let the Graces daunce vnto the rest;
For they can doo it best:
The whiles the maydens doe theyr carroll sing,
To which the woods shal answer & theyr eccho ring.
poem by Edmund Spenser
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Dregs Have Flown
Red wine like warm blood
flowed from our glasses.
Invigorating finely tuned senses
where race inherited memory reclined.
Taste on titillated etherized tongues
has tang exploiting grape crushed peel
sweet wine courting chilled flute
melodies dance expunging former mire.
Sunset red pink rose purple
blooming across arching horizon
night an ink black vesper veil
dried over coagulated rusted wounds.
Life transposes in transubstantiation transitions
rendering real time lost archaic reality.
Changing perceived natural chaotic order
into radiant wine born illusive illusory lulled time.
Red wine like copious blood
flowed from our drinking cups
like blood a rejuvenating nectar.
Bacchus life burned within veins.
In symposium enchanted Bacchus dew unshackles
burdensome inescapable narrow banded male lives.
Personalities yield to ecstatic natural forces
Bacchantes dance in frenzy raptured moonlight.
Ivy-crowned and joyous draped, dance Bacchantes dance
escape within Bacchic frenzy fever; of ecstasies deepest mystery.
Flame eternal runs in the veins of adorated Bacchus
fermented juices stain not his matchless divine radiance.
See also the poem ‘Bacchus’.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Vindication
If heaven loved not the wine,
A Wine Star would not be in heaven;
If earth loved not the wine,
The Wine Spring would not be on the earth.
Since heaven and earth love the wine,
Need a tippling mortal be ashamed?
The transparent wine, I hear,
Has the soothing virtue of a sage,
While the turgid is rich, they say,
As the fertile mind of the wise.
Both the sage and the wise were drinkers,
Why seek for peers among gods and goblins?
Three cups open the grand door to bliss;
Take a jugful, the universe is yours.
Such is the rapture of the wine,
That the sober shall never inherit.
You Could Have Been A Lady
(errol brown/anthony wilson)
Published by us music & media - ascap
Could have been alright, could have been here tonight
Could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
I could have been alright, I could have been here tonight
Could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
They all need you, to make love to
When you awake, you find them on the bed, lyin beside you
They all love you, youre a good girl
And I aint surprised, when you realize, just where youre goin to
You could have been alright, you could have been here tonight
You could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
It could have been alright, you could have been here tonight
Could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
If I told you, where youre goin to
Youd laugh in my face, say Im out of place, mind your business
And they all want you, to make love to
Its ashame, the fate of the game, the way it delights you
You could have been alright, you could have been here tonight
You could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
It could have been alright, you could have been here tonight
Could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
Na, na na na na, na, na, na na na na, na
Na, na na na na, na, na na
Na, na na na na, na, na, na na na na, na
Na, na na na na, na, na na
Alright, you could have been here tonight
You could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
It could have been alright, you could have been here tonight
Could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
song performed by by April Wine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Supper
For this meal.
Just one glass of wine.
Helps to ease Mine Mind.
Later a bottle of meths.
Will put Head to Rest.
All. One glass of wine...
Remedy. Salve. Readily... Feel... Fine...
Problems flutter... Escape... Evaporate mind...
Contentment cementment... Peace plastered... Blind...
Hands now Cease to shake.
Cut free from Inhumane human Race.
For this meal. Must always Common Sense steal.
Drunken driver. Wilt sit Soon. Behind spinning Wheel.
Just one glass of wine.
Instantaneous intoxication. Sprung sponged mind.
No more Found troubled times.
With pain Could not confine.
Upon alcoholic Joy chance wilt dine.
Until shall Hell leave Troubled sober mankind?
Any found tavern Wilt be mighty fine.
Until will. Incinerate. Sloshed. Body shine shrine?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Anacreontick I
Gay Bacchus liking Estcourt's Wine,
A noble Meal bespoke;
And for the Guests that were to Dine,
Brought Comus, Love, and Joke.
The God near Cupid drew his Chair,
And Joke near Comus plac'd;
Thus Wine makes Love forget its Care,
And Mirth exalts a Feast.
The more to please the sprightly God,
Each sweet engaging Grace
Put on some Cloaths to come abroad,
And took a Waiters Place.
Then Cupid nam'd at every Glass
A Lady of the Sky;
While Bacchus swore he'd Drink the Lass,
And had it Bumper high.
Fat Comus tost his Brimmers o're,
And always got the most;
For Joke took care to fill him more,
When-e'er he mist the Toast.
They call'd, and drank at every Touch,
Then fill'd, and drank again;
And if the Gods can take too much,
'Tis said, they did so then.
Free Jests run all the Table round,
And with the Wine conspire,
(While they by sly Reflection wound,)
To set their Heads on Fire.
Gay Bacchus little Cupid stung,
By reck'ning his Deceits;
And Cupid mock'd his stammering Tongue,
With all his staggering Gaits.
Joke droll'd on Comus' greedy Ways,
And Tales without a Jest;
While Comus call'd his witty Plays,
But Waggeries at Best.
Such Talk soon set 'em all at Odds;
And, had I Homer's Pen,
I'd sing ye, how they drunk, like Gods,
And how they fought, like Men.
To part the Fray, the Graces fly,
Who make 'em soon agree;
And had the Furies selves been nigh,
They still were Three to Three.
Bacchus appeas'd, rais'd Cupid up,
And gave him back his Bow;
But kept some Darts to stir the Cup,
Where Sack and Sugar flow.
Joke taking Comus' rosie Crown,
In Triumph wore the Prize,
And thrice, in Mirth, he pusht him down,
As thrice he strove to rise.
Then Cupid sought the Myrtle Grove,
Where Venus did recline,
And Beauty close embracing Love,
They join'd to Rail at Wine.
And Comus loudly cursing Wit,
Roll'd off to some Retreat,
Where boon Companions gravely sit,
In fat unweildy State.
Bacchus and Joke, who stay behind,
For one fresh Glass prepare;
They Kiss, and are exceeding kind,
And Vow to be sincere.
But part in Time, whoever hear
This our Instructive Song;
For tho' such Friendships may be dear,
They can't continue long.
poem by Thomas Parnell
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Bacchus
BRING me wine, but wine which never grew
In the belly of the grape,
Or grew on vine whose tap-roots, reaching through
Under the Andes to the Cape,
Suffer'd no savour of the earth to 'scape.
Let its grapes the morn salute
From a nocturnal root,
Which feels the acrid juice
Of Styx and Erebus;
And turns the woe of Night,
By its own craft, to a more rich delight.
We buy ashes for bread;
We buy diluted wine;
Give me of the true,
Whose ample leaves and tendrils curl'd
Among the silver hills of heaven
Draw everlasting dew;
Wine of wine,
Blood of the world,
Form of forms, and mould of statures,
That I intoxicated,
And by the draught assimilated,
May float at pleasure through all natures;
The bird-language rightly spell,
And that which roses say so well:
Wine that is shed
Like the torrents of the sun
Up the horizon walls,
Or like the Atlantic streams, which run
When the South Sea calls.
Water and bread,
Food which needs no transmuting,
Rainbow-flowering, wisdom-fruiting,
Wine which is already man,
Food which teach and reason can.
Wine which Music is,--
Music and wine are one,--
That I, drinking this,
Shall hear far Chaos talk with me;
Kings unborn shall walk with me;
And the poor grass shall plot and plan
What it will do when it is man.
Quicken'd so, will I unlock
Every crypt of every rock.
I thank the joyful juice
For all I know;
Winds of remembering
Of the ancient being blow,
And seeming-solid walls of use
Open and flow.
Pour, Bacchus! the remembering wine;
Retrieve the loss of me and mine!
Vine for vine be antidote,
And the grape requite the lote!
Haste to cure the old despair;
Reason in Nature's lotus drench'd--
The memory of ages quench'd--
Give them again to shine;
Let wine repair what this undid;
And where the infection slid,
A dazzling memory revive;
Refresh the faded tints,
Recut the aged prints,
And write my old adventures with the pen
Which on the first day drew,
Upon the tablets blue,
The dancing Pleiads and eternal men.
poem by Ralph Waldo Emerson
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I think that at the supper I neither receive flesh nor blood, but bread and wine; which bread when it is broken, and the wine when it is drunken, put me in remembrance how that for my sins the body of Christ was broken, and his blood shed on the cross.
Fertile Valleys Of Love
Fertile valleys of love,
Are you now overcome with wine? !
And like a diadem of beauty and a crown of glory;
But the waters will overflow the hiding places.
What can you say when, no one understands?
And like the first fruit of your love before the summer;
Who can you teach when, no one listens?
And like the summer and the winter in the land of your muse;
For, you have forgotten to be merciful.
The foaming wine,
The sun and the moon;
And like a heap out of a strong city!
But, he or she who swims spreads forth his or her hands;
And like the lovely dew in the morning.
Oh, Vineyard of red wine!
Red-red-wine! ! !
But, fury is not in me;
However, woe to the drunkards of this world!
For, your glorious beauty is now like a fading flower.
You have beem a strength to the poor my sweet one,
And to the needy in distress as well;
However, many will run away but, they cannot hide.
To reel to and fro like a drunkard,
But time will tell on this love,
And like a refuse on the ground,
But, who can understand the errors of mankind?
The joy of your presence is like the muse of success!
But, i am poured out like water;
And like a dream that has come true,
But this time is passing away.
Blessed is the one who consider the poor ones,
And from the gates of death to the passing of time!
But, in the fertile valleys of love i will rest my mind.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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