With the pride of the artist, you must blow against the walls of every power that exists the small trumpet of your defiance.
quote by Norman Mailer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Trumpeter
The war was all around
And the city was small.
The doctors laughed at him,
He was not like de Gaulle.
Well, may be the trumpeter?
OK, trumpeter, as a trumpeter!
Being a trumpeter is so good,
At least you don't have to bow.
The bullets whistle over your head,
As the winds sometimes blow.
But why it happened like that?
For a boy the war was a spit.
But once in the autumn rains,
In a strange unknown land,
The regiment was waned,
No one heard the command.
No one was there to be astound.
Come on, trumpeter! You sound!
In smoke and flames he stood,
His lips pressed to the trumpet,
The regiment, like knighthoods,
Followed the trumpeter.
The International they sang,
And the triumph bells rang.
The trumpeter,.. but a real soldier
Was devoted to a peaceful music,
He had to defend the border,
With a trumpet to do the trick.
If you are a man but not a hick,
The trumpet you will pick.
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blow By Blow
Written by dave mason, john cesario, and mark holden.
Its always something
Or it aint nothing at all
Its feast or famine
Too hot or out in the cold
So here we stand
Alone together
Our backs against the wall
If my heart wasnt in it
I wouldnt be here at all
Blow by blow
Well its blow by blow
And here we go again
(here we go again)
Well its blow by blow
Coming off the ropes
And fighting for the hope in us all
Are you in my corner
Or playing both sides of the wall
So make a stand
Its now or never
Cause life is much too short
And if your heart isnt in it
You shouldnt be here at all
Blow by blow
Well its blow by blow
And here we go again
(here we go again)
Well its blow by blow
Blow by blow
Well its blow by blow
Im back on my feet again
(Im back on my feet again)
Well its blow by blow
I can almost see through the tears
And Ive got my pride
The dreams that Ive hidden for years
Just wont be denied
So here we stand
Alone together
Our backs against the wall
If my heart wasnt in it
I wouldnt be here at all
Blow by blow
Well its blow by blow
And here we go again
(here we go again)
Well its blow by blow
Blow by blow
Well its blow by blow
Im back on my feet again
(Im back on my feet again)
Well its blow by blow
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Light Fire
the light of the fire
it shines and sparks
it gains and it shares the amazing glory
the glory that exists only
to share and show
that glory that only exists
between two people
that light it only exists
between two people
and yet only they don't understand it
that glory that exists
is only there because
the two people, the two friends
do not understand its power
they keep it safe and sound
within their soul
the fire it shines and sparkes
it is power and hatred all around the world
it is the light of the fire
and only the friendship between those two best friends
can subdue it and handle it.
An artist never works under ideal conditions. If they existed, his work wouldn't exist, for the artist doesn't live in a vacuum. Some sort of pressure must exist. The artist exists because the world is not perfect. Art would be useless if the world were perfect, as man wouldn't look for harmony but would simply live in it. Art is born out of an ill-designed world. This is the issue in Andrey Rubliov.
quote by Andrei Tarkovsky
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Walls
Walls of stone and walls of brick,
Some walls thin and some walls thick,
Walls so high and walls so low,
Walls to hide and walls to show.
Walls quite short and walls quite tall,
Some walls, last well, some walls fall,
Walls for comfort, walls of hate,
Walls for security, walls ornate.
Some as a barricade, some to support,
Walls of wood and walls of iron wrought,
Walls as a barrier, walls to enclose,
Some are to sit on, some to lean and doze.
Walls we build ourselves, these aren't good,
Walls for privacy, walls that have stood,
So many years through weather foul or fine,
Walls, that are yours, walls that are mine.
Brick by brick they are built to last,
Whether built now or in the past,
They shelter us from so many things,
And shield us from whatever this life brings.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet -Indelible Art?
How far an artist takes his art forward?
If labour hard is continued for long,
It dedication has not disappeared,
And Pride has not polluted his art’s song.
One's art improves if Will of God is there;
If Luck and Pluck come timely to his aid;
If vices poison not his mind to err;
And love enters his art when it is made.
For art lives longer than the artist's age;
And brings alive the beauty it derived;
All life, the artist must truly manage;
To perfect works of art in which he’d strived.
Such art alone will stand the test of time,
For it has made the Artist's life sublime.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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The Flying Dutchman
Unyielding in the pride of his defiance,
Afloat with none to serve or to command,
Lord of himself at last, and all by Science,
He seeks the Vanished Land.
Alone, by the one light of his one thought,
He steers to find the shore from which he came,
Fearless of in what coil he may be caught
On seas that have no name.
Into the night he sails, and after night
There is a dawning, thought there be no sun;
Wherefore, with nothing but himself in sight,
Unsighted, he sails on.
At last there is a lifting of the cloud
Between the flood before him and the sky;
And then--though he may curse the Power aloud
That has no power to die--
He steers himself away from what is haunted
By the old ghost of what has been before,--
Abandoning, as always, and undaunted,
One fog-walled island more.
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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But I'm not an artist. Maybe an artist with a small a.
quote by John Galliano
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All We Got Is Pride!
All we have is are pride,
the main thing that we will never hide.
we rasie are flag so high
u can see are pride in da sky.
pride is why we are alive
y mexicans stay to live.
we might nt have usa power
bt we have the pride of a huge tower
u can take our papers
bt u cant take our pride
cause yall bunch of fackers
that all ways hides
poem by Melissa Cortez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You're So Small
i went to school here in michigan at a place
Called interlochen, and, uh, there's a lot of dancers there.
About 60% of the dancers were either anorexic or bulemic.
And i often blamed it on their boyfriends.
So i wrote this about that.
I didn't agree with that, by the way."
Gonna walk down the street
And seduce every man i meet
Because i'm having a bad day.
I am
Not size six.
My legs are not
Skinny as sticks
And dammit, someone's got to pay.
(that's the power of a woman, ohhhh)
I feel unattractive.
I'm gonna see if it's true.
I'm going to break a heart or maybe two.
I'm gonna put on a sexy red thing
Gonna run very late
I'm gonna pull some strings
Cause my strength is in my
Power over you.
(the power of a woman)
But i'm afraid that i can't satisfy myself
And that my happiness depends on someone else.
I feel weak, so you're gonna take the fall.
You're so small, you're so small, you're so small.
You're so small, i feel fat, you're so small.
You're so small, i don't feel anything, cuz you're so small.
song performed by by Jewel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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The Power of a Man
The power of a mam's eyes, how they pierce into my soul,
Which can make a love ignite, or tear apart something once whole,
The power of a mn's eyes, how they judge you with their stare's,
The pwer to degrade you, or foolishly make you believe they care,
The power of a man's lips, colliding together with mine,
Showing how much he loves me, as our tongues slowly entertwine,
The power of a man's lips, to cause me so much pain,
Curse words roll off his tongue, calling my hurtful names,
The power of a man's hands, how they caress my body and skin,
Luring me into adultery, oh, what a satifying sin,
The power of a man's hands, to painfully strike my face,
Blows go to the body, now he's fastening the pace,
The power of a man's heart, some big others small,
He who chooses to love, or not to love at all,
The power of a man's heart, from tthis his pride he gains,
The power to choose to hate me, or to love me just the same,
poem by Niakeva Thomas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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These Walls
These walls
They are the plainest of color.
It is as though they are made to make one suffer.
Surrounded by them, ever so bleak
Makes my energy drain, leaving me weak.
These walls
How can they be so bare?
It's almost as if no one cares.
They almost never bring me cheer.
Instead they instill a little fear.
These walls
Never seem to move
For they have nothing to prove.
They just stand their gorund,
Knowing, always, where to be found.
These walls
My patience is beginning to run thin.
I feel completely trapped within.
I want to curl up into a ball and hide
But I know that would be a hit to my pride.
These walls
This is completely unfair.
I just want to feel the fresh air
And the warmth of the sun
Instead of the air conditioning that always seems to run.
These walls
poem by Ashley Reese
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blow Me A Kiss
Take one in the leg [Think about your baby]
Take one in the side [Think about your girl]
Take one in the head [Think about your mother]
Take one in the heart [It's the end of the world]
So blow me a kiss cuz I'm black
Blow me a kiss cuz I'm gay
Blow me a kiss cuz I'm shakin'
Say goodnight then blow me away
Blow me away
Blow me away
Tell me what you're thinkin' tell me why
Blow me a kiss then blow me away
Take one in the face [Think about your life]
Take one in the eye [Think about your soul]
Take one in the mouth [Think about your savior]
Take one in the thigh [Are you ready to go]
So blow me a kiss cuz I'm lonely
Blow me a kiss cuz I'm afraid
Blow me a kiss cuz you don't know me
Say goodnight then blow me away
Blow me away
Blow me away
Tell me what you're thinkin' tell me why
I'm in my room I'm Dr. Doom
Cuz I'm not me I'm someone else
Why should you die don't ask me why
You know it you know it you know it
Blow me away
I turn the page I am the rage
I'm coming from a darker place
A much darker place
So blow me away
Blow me away
Yeah blow me away
Tell me what you're thinkin' tell me why
Blow me a kiss then blow me away
Yeah blow me away
C'mon and blow me away
Tell me what you're thinkin' tell me why
Blow me a kiss then blow me away
song performed by by Alice Cooper from Brutal Planet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Break Down The Walls
I used to think that labels were just symbols of pride
but over time I've seen they only served to divide
It's so easy to judge people by the way them seem to be
We must overcome this problem to live life peacefully
Break Down The walls!
yes,we'll break down the walls
look beyond the fashion or the crowd that they are in
look beyond their riches or the color of their skin
look beyond appearance and the truth you will find
look for what's inside before you make up your mind
break Down The walls
yes, we'll break down the walls
song performed by by Youth Of Today
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Between Walls Between Walls
walls around us
always walls around us
morning till noon
till night walls always walls between
us i try to inser some words
of consolation between us
all walls rain walls between us
there is no word for us
for it
we, it, we, us, there is nothing
between us
air, between, us, air, air, air,
between us, still walls, walls,
speak, speak
why, why are these walls still walls
between us
i guess, you are dead, then
cogito, eureka,
will i be a happy man then?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Happiest Day, the Happiest Hour
The happiest day- the happiest hour
My sear'd and blighted heart hath known,
The highest hope of pride and power,
I feel hath flown.
Of power! said I? yes! such I ween;
But they have vanish'd long, alas!
The visions of my youth have been-
But let them pass.
And, pride, what have I now with thee?
Another brow may even inherit
The venom thou hast pour'd on me
Be still, my spirit!
The happiest day- the happiest hour
Mine eyes shall see- have ever seen,
The brightest glance of pride and power,
I feel- have been:
But were that hope of pride and power
Now offer'd with the pain
Even then I felt- that brightest hour
I would not live again:
For on its wing was dark alloy,
And, as it flutter'd- fell
An essence- powerful to destroy
A soul that knew it well.
poem by Edgar Allan Poe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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