A superb tenor voice, like a silver trumpet muffled in silk.
quote by Alec Guinness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trumpet Voice
I live to hear my father sing
People come
Far and wide
Gathering like anchovies in a can
To hear his deep, trumpet voice
My father burns a record
Neighbors and friends
Float from their lonely birdhouses
To hear his deep, trumpet voice
My father records a tape
The family sits in the living room
Under the golden chandelier
To hear his deep, trumpet voice
My father has a CD
My brother and I sit in my room
Playing Parcheesi
We open the player
To hear his deep, trumpet voice
I lie on the city bus
One seat for my head
The other for my feet
I turn on my small, silver iPod
And zone out from the world
To hear his deep, trumpet voice
poem by Aury Cecile
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tenorman
Sweet sad young tenor
Horn slumped around neck
Bearded full of junk
Slouches waiting
For Apocalypse,
Listens to the new
Negro raw trumpet kid
Tell him the wooden news;
And the beat of the bass
The bass—drives in
Drummer drops a bomb
Piano tinkle tackles
Sweet tenor lifting
All American sorrows
Raises mouthpiece to mouth
And blows to finger
The iron sounds
poem by Jack Kerouac
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Death Of Aliatar
FROM THE SPANISH.
'Tis not with gilded sabres
That gleam in baldricks blue,
Nor nodding plumes in caps of Fez,
Of gay and gaudy hue--
But, habited in mourning weeds,
Come marching from afar,
By four and four, the valiant men
Who fought with Aliatar.
All mournfully and slowly
The afflicted warriors come,
To the deep wail of the trumpet,
And beat of muffled drum.
The banner of the Phenix,
The flag that loved the sky,
That scarce the wind dared wanton with,
It flew so proud and high--
Now leaves its place in battle-field,
And sweeps the ground in grief,
The bearer drags its glorious folds
Behind the fallen chief,
As mournfully and slowly
The afflicted warriors come,
To the deep wail of the trumpet,
And beat of muffled drum.
Brave Aliatar led forward
A hundred Moors to go
To where his brother held Motril
Against the leaguering foe.
On horseback went the gallant Moor,
That gallant band to lead;
And now his bier is at the gate,
From whence he pricked his steed.
While mournfully and slowly
The afflicted warriors come,
To the deep wail of the trumpet,
And beat of muffled drum.
The knights of the Grand Master
In crowded ambush lay;
They rushed upon him where the reeds
Were thick beside the way;
They smote the valiant Aliatar,
They smote the warrior dead,
And broken, but not beaten, were
The gallant ranks he led.
Now mournfully and slowly
The afflicted warriors come,
To the deep wail of the trumpet,
And beat of muffled drum.
Oh! what was Zayda's sorrow,
How passionate her cries!
Her lover's wounds streamed not more free
Than that poor maiden's eyes.
Say, Love--for didst thou see her tears:
Oh, no! he drew more tight
The blinding fillet o'er his lids
To spare his eyes the sight.
While mournfully and slowly
The afflicted warriors come,
To the deep wail of the trumpet,
And beat of muffled drum.
Nor Zayda weeps him only,
But all that dwell between
The great Alhambra's palace walls
And springs of Albaicin.
The ladies weep the flower of knights,
The brave the bravest here;
The people weep a champion,
The Alcaydes a noble peer.
While mournfully and slowly
The afflicted warriors come,
To the deep wail of the trumpet,
And beat of muffled drum.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
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They would wake me up when I was sleeping, and say sing a song for our friends. I had a sweet voice, I had a nice little tenor voice. God knows what I sang, but my whole family would admire me.
quote by Dominic Chianese
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some people say there was no jazz tenor before me. All I know is I just had a way of playing and I didn't think in terms of any other instrument but the tenor.
quote by Coleman Hawkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Skym
Do you still feed the animal
Animal finger
Finger on the phone
Curve around corners
Do you still feed the animal
Your muffled voices
Up this ideal head
And the wires come in
Open us
Close us
( slide beneath the city )
Slide beneath the city
And the feet in the streets above us
( and your voice again )
And your voice again
( and your voice again )
( and your voice again )
I dont want you to call again
Do you still feed the animal
Muffled madness
Quiet calm pervade her
I couldnt go trought this again
You said you love her
You know you love her
You never want to be without her
You said you never want hurt her
You know you hurt her
I
How many lives you lives
How many hurt you done
How many times you come to this place
How much you want it
You said you love her
song performed by by Underworld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm a farmer with a mandolin and a high tenor voice.
quote by Bill Monroe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Pale and Silver Moon's Blue Silk and Blossom
They bade you softly,
They bade you so -
'Do not go, do not go, '
To the pale and silver moon's blue silk and blossom
They fail you softly
Their words -
They fail you so
- To the pale and silver moon's blue silk and blossom
And in the snow
Yes - in the snow
Where words do pale, but justice do
The silver moon's blue silk and blossom
You trusted through
You trusted through
poem by Michael Reston
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Deaf Trumpeter
How long are you going to trumpets
Your sad melody for the Trumpet flower in the Trumpet woods?
Brother! You get trampled one day by the trumpet weeds
And we never hear of you again.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Silver And Gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Ev'ryone wishes for silver and gold
How do you measure its worth?
Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Mean so much more when I see
Silver and gold decorations
On ev'ry Christmas tree.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Wise men brought gifts to the mange I'm told
Mary was humble to see
Shepherds and kings there on bended knees
It's silver and gold, silver and gold
Feeling the world with their lives
Silver and gold how they shimmer on ev'ry Christmas night
On ev'ry Christmas night
Silver, silver and gold
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silver & Gold
Words and Music by Johnny Marks.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Ev'ryone wishes for silver and gold
How do you measure its worth?
Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Mean so much more when I see
Silver and gold decorations
On ev'ry Christmas tree.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Wise men brought gifts to the mange I'm told
Mary was humble to see
Shepherds and kings there on bended knees
It's silver and gold, silver and gold
Feeling the world with their lives
Silver and gold how they shimmer on ev'ry Christmas night
On ev'ry Christmas night
Silver, silver and gold
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The King Of Bores
Abundant bores afflict this world, and some
Are bores of magnitude that-come and-no,
They're always coming, but they never go
Like funeral pageants, as they drone and hum
Their lurid nonsense like a muffled drum,
Or bagpipe's dread unnecessary flow.
But one superb tormentor I can show
Prince Fiddlefaddle, Duc de Feefawfum.
He the johndonkey is who, when I pen
Amorous verses in an idle mood
To nobody, or of her, reads them through
And, smirking, says he knows the lady; then
Calls me sly dog. I wish he understood
This tender sonnet's application too.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Want Freedom
Don: mel, hit that on the second intro.
Mel: (muffled)
Don: yeah, I think it sounds better to stop it quick.
Mel: (muffled)
Don: yeah.
Mel: (muffled)
Don: okay, like you did, (noise) like you did, (noise) like you did, Ill stop my cymbal quick, then, on the second intro.
Mel: (muffled)
Don: alright, alright.
? : (muffled)
Don: the tape is rolling.
? : (muffled)
Don: here we go. this is grand funk railroad and here comes the count. one, ...
? : get on with it!
Don: one, two, three, four ...
(musical intro)
Don: cut! why did you stop that? let all of them ring. the second intro, the second time he goes ... you know, in the song, when we go back into this part?
Mel: yeah.
Don: thats what I mean. the first ...
Mel: (muffled)
Don: you know, like were coming out of ... were coming out of: da, dum, da; da, dum, da; da, dum, da, dum, da, da, da, da, da ... da ... dratum, bap! stop that one.
Mel: (muffled)
Don: thats the only one.
Mel: (muffled)
Don: just that one, let the rest of them ring. okay. here we go again, grand funk railroad. here we are ... buddy r. review, right here on ... on ... want me to get on with it?
? : get on with it!
One, two, (pause) tape is rolling? okay ... here we go ... one, two, three, four ...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chorus
Just let me take it, my mind cant make it without ...
I cant take it, said I just cant make it.
Just let me take it, my mind cant make it without ...
I cant take it, so you best not take it.
Ive been waitin for such, such a long, long time,
To tell you all about these feelings of mine.
Something tells me there just has to be a better day,
And thats why I came here to say ...
Chorus
Growing up, I was free in my childhood years,
And now they tell me I can wash away my tears.
These tears explain the way, its the way that I feel,
Because the freedom they give me is real.
Chorus
Chorus
I want freedom, the kind that they promised me,
Just for livin in this country.
I want the freedom, the kind that makes me feel strong,
But, let me tell you, something is wrong.
Chorus
Half-chorus
song performed by by Grand Funk Railroad
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Palm Trees.
Toward the water,
Toward the sun,
Out one by one
Green hand. Palm trees,
What do you want?
Quickly told me.
The sun shining bright gold,
Rain glittering silver line,
I use gold and silver wire,
twisted brown silk, knit clothes.
poem by Albert Wong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With Trumpet and Drum
With big tin trumpet and little red drum,
Marching like soldiers, the children come!
It 's this way and that way they circle and file---
My! but that music of theirs is fine!
This way and that way, and after a while
They march straight into this heart of mine!
A sturdy old heart, but it has to succumb
To the blare of that trumpet and beat of that drum!
Come on, little people, from cot and from hall---
This heart it hath welcome and room for you all!
It will sing you its songs and warm you with love,
As your dear little arms with my arms intertwine;
It will rock you away to the dreamland above---
Oh, a jolly old heart is this old heart of mine,
And jollier still is it bound to become
When you blow that big trumpet and beat that red drum!
So come; though I see not his dear little face
And hear not his voice in this jubilant place,
I know he were happy to bid me enshrine
His memory deep in my heart with your play---
Ah me! but a love that is sweeter than mine
Holdeth my boy in its keeping to-day!
And my heart it is lonely---so, little folk, come,
March in and make merry with trumpet and drum!
poem by Eugene Field
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Spider Silk
Its lining is that of silk,
Like a from a spider,
For it their spiders are webbing
To determine for the workers to liven their salary.
To test an exam for the student,
Who lightens the silk for the dress he was given
By the tailor.
He exchanged the silk of a spider for its spit.
Spit has venom.
Student is dead from silk.
poem by Naveed Akram
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He that has not silver in his purse should have silk on his tongue.
Hide Your Fortune
Fortune hides a fortune of gold and silver,
The very same silver commanding, friendlier;
Frost demands of the gold some ancient health
And power, the very commands have wealth.
Ice is an unique trumpet of gold,
Golden men are carriers of the old.
May God fold in the ingredients of a soup,
One made of pennies of fluid and in a group.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The soprano has all those other instruments in it. It's got the soprano song voice, flute, violin, clarinet, and tenor elements and can even approach the baritone in intensity.
quote by Steve Lacy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Concert of Birds
The mounting lark (day's herald) got on wing,
Bidding each bird choose out his bough and sing.
The lofty treble sung the little wren;
Robin the mean, that best of all loves men;
The nightingale the tenor, and the thrush
The counter-tenor sweetly in a bush.
And that the music might be full in parts,
Birds from the groves flew with right willing hearts;
But (as it seem'd) they thought (as do the swains,
Which tune their pipes on sack'd Hibernia's plains)
There should some droning part be, therefore will'd
Some bird to fly into a neighb'ring field,
In embassy unto the King of Bees,
To aid his partners on the flowers and trees
Who, condescending, gladly flew along
To bear the bass to his well-tuned song.
The crow was willing they should be beholding
For his deep voice, but being hoarse with scolding,
He thus lends aid; upon an oak doth climb,
And nodding with his head, so keepeth time.
poem by William Browne
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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