Like, I kind of developed my musical style in a vacuum. Even though I listen to a lot of stuff, the way I wrote was in my bedroom, really privately. It's still the way I write, actually.
Related quotes
In order to do a musical now, a style must be developed that works for today's audience.
quote by Randal Kleiser
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Not a Poem Poem
A Not a Poem Poem
I will not write a poem
For I am not a poet
I cannot makes things rhyme
I’ve tried for quite some time
So will I write a poem?
NO!
I can’t write poetry
I’ve tried to all my life
Once, I tried to write a poem
About a husband and his wife
It sounded really silly
So I crumbled it up into a ball
That’s why I decided
That I couldn’t write poetry at all
Am I gonna write a poem?
NO!
Well, I’ll try to write a poem
But it will be really bad
It will be absolutely lousy
It will be completely horrible
It won’t be up to snuff
People will say, “Who wrote this stuff? ”
Will my poem be good?
NO!
Can I write a poem?
NO!
Will I write a poem?
NO!
Well, what do you know! ? !
I wrote a poem!
And it’s a pretty good poem, too!
I guess I can write poetry if I try
The next time I’m asked to write a poem,
Will I say no?
NO!
Love Me - Love My Poetry
I once wrote some poetry - the best,
the finest POETRY
My POETRY came with a capital
"P".
My POETRY was distinguished
POETRY, proper, complete line of
Verse POETRY - honorable,
prehistoric, geographical POETRY
Divine, instinctive, even religious
POETRY -
I sent it to the magazines
The very good magazines
The very best magazines -
They returned it to me every time!
I once wrote some inferior POETRY
Low in style, irregular in measure
POETRY
Undignified, trivial, absurd POETRY
inadequate, mischievous, comic
POETRY
Some stuff like this - A CRIME -
I sent it to the magazines
The very good magazines
The very best magazines
They kept it every time!
Now, I ask of you - my question is
fair and brief - I ask
Of you - your ear I pray and beg you
give -
Shall I write intuitive,
comprehensive, reasoning
POETRY
Specific, Godlike, Capitol
committed POETRY
The sort I think will live?
Or shall I write inferior, very bad
POETRY - the kind that soon is
Dead - and send it to the magazines,
the very good, the best magazines
THAT I MAY LIVE INSTEAD!!!
poem by Bonnie Alden Phillips
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My technique is laughable at times. I have developed a style of my own, I suppose, which creeps around [...] I don't have to have too much technique for it. I've developed the parts of my technique that are useful to me. I'll never be a very fast guitar player. I don't really know what to say about my style. There's always a melodic intent in there.
quote by David Gilmour
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Poem
i wrote you a poem,
that stood naked on
your doorstep,
but you didnt notice...
so i wrote you a poem,
that bled on your kitchen floor,
yet the mop stood untouched
in the corner!
i wrote you a poem,
that set itself on fire
in your bedroom,
and you opened the window.
so i wrote you a poem,
from the land of death...
your tears only an echo,
that couldnt touch...
couldnt taste, couldnt feel...
will you write me a poem?
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I play piano and guitar and I do write my own stuff so to a certain extent I know what I want to do in regards to music. But I'm still finding out what kind of music is my favourite kind to listen to, never mind do myself so I've got a lot of time to find out myself and develop myself as an artist.
quote by Richard Fleeshman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Stones are a different kind of group. I realized that when I joined them. It's not really so much their musical ability, it's just they have a certain kind of style and attitude which is unique.
quote by Mick Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Style
Now here comes a musical shack attack
Really on truly design to make you rock
Whether you white or black
In a pants or frock
Round a front or back
Down an bottom or on top
Is Pablo Ranks round the microphone a chat
On the musical shack attack seen (Dreadlocks)
Here them style ya now star
Ca me say if a don't Patton then a style
A me say is a don't Patton them a style (Smile)
A mi say if a don't patton them a style (Wicked on wile)
Say if a don't Patton them a style
Mi young a say strong Jah know mi well virile
True mi eant everything them a say that spwile
Man mi run way left mi yard them a say that mi wile
Say mi lock the education but mi versatile
song performed by by UB40 from Baggariddim
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Four Chord Wonder
How many bands have wrote this song before?
I can name at least fifty...
I bet you could name a hundred more.
There's over a couple thousand
Chord progressions around.
Whill someone tell me who decided
They'd run this one into the ground?!
(chorus) i'm putting a stop to it once and for all!
I'm putting my fist right though the wall!
I'm telling you once and for all...
You better not write this stupid song again!
"i've got a little plan, so listen up.
We could write a four chord wonder,
And make a million bucks!"
No need to mention names
Cause' you know who you are.
Take word of my advice
Or i'll break your guitar!
I think it's time to set things straight...
I just wrote the song i hate.
And, i'll write it again and again and again
song performed by by Ataris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Maybe I Was Damon In A Past Life
Maybe I was Damon Runyon in a past time
he died at age 66 which was the year I began my life.
I also write about someone I call the 'Guy'
who maybe is kind of shy.
Damon wrote a play with Dolls & Guys
which was acted out in NYC—very true-not a lie.
I write about a Doll
who is cute and kind of small.
Damon also named his pet _____
almost like mine.
I write about a character with letter
beginning with N—
he was only a sponsor to me—
he wanted to be more than friends—
Just like Damon-
who writes about characters where
he actually supported them
in his writing he actually defends.
Damon also writes about baseball
I don't know baseball at all.
I am more of a poet who story-tells-
I write of the doll character nicknamed Mel.
See baseball is not my cup of tea—
but to Damon he was famous for
being a reporter known around the country.
He even wrote a character named Sarah Brown
I have a character Sarah who lives by a clown.
Little Miss Marker was a play he wrote-
I wrote a poem Little Miss Melodie who sings a note.
His grandfather was from New Jersey just like me
I see a lot of similarities-
Written by Suzae Chevalier on March 17,2012
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I think for writers who write that kind of stuff, they want to make changes. Look at Kris Kristofferson and Dylan. I mean, whole generations come along liking that stuff and that's great.
quote by Lee Hazlewood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Damon Runyon In A Past Life?
Maybe I was Damon Runyon in a past time
he died at age 66 which was the year I began my life.
I also write about someone I call the 'Guy'
who maybe is kind of shy.
Damon wrote a play with Dolls & Guys
which was acted out in NYC—very true-not a lie.
I write about a Doll
who is cute and kind of small.
Damon also named his pet _____
almost like mine.
I write about a character with letter
beginning with N—
he was only a sponsor to me—
he wanted to be more than friends—
Just like Damon-
who writes about characters where
he actually supported them
in his writing he actually defends.
Damon also writes about baseball
I don't know baseball at all.
I am more of a poet who story-tells-
I write of the doll character nicknamed Mel.
See baseball is not my cup of tea—
but to Damon he was famous for
being a reporter known around the country.
He even wrote a character named Sarah Brown
I have a character Sarah who lives by a clown.
Little Miss Marker was a play he wrote-
I wrote a poem Little Miss Melodie who sings a note.
His grandfather was from New Jersey just like me
I see a lot of similarities-
Written by Suzae Chevalier on March 17,2012
www.suzae.com
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dear Michael
She wrote dear michael
Youll probably never get this letter
Michael, I wrote you a hundred times before
Knowing how I feel
Ill write a hundred more
Dear michael, every time your records on
(michael michael)
Michael, I close my eyes and sing along
Dreaming youre singing to me.
(ouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh)
And then she wrote:
(ouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh)
Michael, I love you
I held the tears back long as I can
(ouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh)
Im sealing my feelings in this envelope
(ouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh)
cause I wanna be more than just your number one fan
Im gonna answer your letter
(michael michael)
Ill start beginning with the abcs of loving you
(I love ya)
(she wrote)
(michael michael)
(I love ya)
Your letter really touched my heart
(she wrote)
Ive been dreaming of meeting the picture
That you send along, signed with all your love
(michael michael)
(I wrote ya)
(she wrote)
Im gonna write you back, ouuh, I promess you that
(wont you write me back? , please write me back)
Girl, I think I love you
(michael michael)
Hurry, hurry mister postman, take my letter, tell her I love her
(she wrote)
(wont you write me back, please write me back)
(michael michael)
(she wrote)
Hurry, hurry mister postman, take my letter tell her I love her
(wont you write me back, please write me back)
(michael michael)
Yeah,
(I wrote you)
(she wrote)
Im gonna write you back
I promess you that...
song performed by by Michael Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Day's When We Are Dead
Listen! The end draws nearer,
Nearer the morning—or night—
And I see with a vision clearer
That the beginning was right!
These shall be words to remember
When all has been done and said,
And my fame is a dying ember
In the days when I am dead.
Listen! We wrote in sorrow,
And we wrote by candle light;
We took no heed of the morrow,
And I think that we were right—
(To-morrow, but not the day after,
And I think that we were right).
We wrote of a world that was human
And we wrote of blood that was red,
For a child, or a man, or a woman—
Remember when we are dead.
Listen! We wrote not for money,
And listen! We wrote not for fame—
We wrote for the milk and the honey
Of Kindness, and not for a name.
We paused not, nor faltered for any,
Though many fell back where we led;
We wrote of the few for the many—
Remember when we are dead.
We suffered as few men suffer,
Yet laughed as few men laugh;
We grin as the road grows rougher,
And a bitterer cup we quaff.
We lived for Right and for Laughter,
And we fought for a Nation ahead—
Remember it, friends, hereafter,
In the years when I am dead—
For to-morrow and not the day after,
For ourselves, and a Nation ahead.
poem by Henry Lawson
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There Was Nothing Left To Write
THERE WAS NOTHING LEFT TO WRITE
There was nothing left to write
Everything had already been written
And was being written over again and again
By thousands elsewhere-
There was nothing left to write
And nothing new to say -
And no need for anything he had to give-
It was over for him as a writer
Whether he accepted it or not-
No one would ever need or want anything he could do again-
And so when he despite all this still wrote
It seemed to many simply pathetic-
The obsessive reflex of an already lost soul-
Who wrote and wrote and wrote
Who writes and writes and writes
Who cannot stop
However senseless all he does, is.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Why I Am Lonely Sometimes
I say hey listen to this new poem I wrote
and she says okay so I read it
then I tell her it's a sonnet and I
probably go too far because I actually
say the words quatrain and iambic feet
Later I walk into the bedroom
where she's watching TV
and she says what
are you gonna tell me
how water turns to ice?
poem by Don McWilliams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Style
Flaubert wanted to write a novel
About nothing. It was to have no subject
And be sustained upon the style alone,
Like the Holy Ghost cruising above
The abyss, or like the little animals
In Disney cartoons who stand upon a branch
That breaks, but do not fall
Till they look down. He never wrote that novel,
And neither did he write another one
That would have been called La Spirale,
Wherein the hero's fortunes were to rise
In dreams, while his walking life disintegrated.
Even so, for these two books
We thank the master. They can be read,
With difficulty, in the spirit alone,
Are not so wholly lost as certain works
Burned at Alexandria, flooded at Florence,
And are never taught at universities.
Moreover, they are not deformed by style,
That fire that eats what it illuminates.
poem by Howard Nemerov
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To W. Hohenzollern, on Resuming The Conning Tower
Well William, since I wrote you long ago--
As I recall, one cool October morning--
(I have The Tribune files. They clearly show
I gave you warning).
Since when I penned that consequential ode,
The world has seen a vast amount of slaughter,
And under many a Gallic bridge has flowed
A lot of water.
I said when your people ceased to strafe,
That when you'd put an end to all this war stuff,
And all the world was reasonably safe
I'd write some more stuff.
That when you missed the quip and wanton wile
And learned you couldn't bear a Towerless season,
I quote, "O, I shall not be petty. . . . I'll
Listen to reason."
Labuntur anni, not to say Eheu
Fugaces! William, by my shoulders glistening!
I have the final laugh, for it was you
Who did the listening.
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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It Is Me
He sat in his own world
writing down the stories
that came to his mind.
He never watched time,
for him there
was no time.
He wrote stories of love,
of mystery and suspense.
He wrote of everything
that popped into his head.
He was not a lonely person
as his characters kept him company.
He wrote things
for every writing sphere,
but there was one thing
he could not write
which may come as a surprise
to everyone.
He could not write a letter
no matter how hard he tried.
His mind went completely blank
whenever he tried.
Yet he could write
just about everything else.
He could write songs,
he could write stories at will.
He could write poems
on everything,
but writing a letter
was something he could not do.
Now all who read this
might take it as a joke,
but it is very true
every word I have spoke,
and how would I know that.
The answer is simple it is me.
19 April 2008
poem by David Harris
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The Poem I Wrote Yesterday/ The Poem I Write Today
THE POEM I WROTE YESTERDAY/THE POEM I WRITE TODAY
The poem I wrote yesterday
The poem I write today
The poem I will write tomorrow
What do they all mean?
Life goes on
Even my life will go on for a time
Without them.
True they give me hope now
But hope is another kind of delusion-
Creature of hopes and dreams delusions and poems
I go on now writing another poem hoping that you somewhere
Will want to know and read and remember it.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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