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
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
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
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
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!
Untitled
Sure/go to cali/have fun/bring me back/a silver gun/
let me shoot/a hole in the sky/give the moon/another
eye/so I can see/deep inside/in the place/where all
time hides/where people go/after their gone/and love
without love/still marches on/to the tune of a different song/
to the tune of a different song/miss me when your gone/
to the tune of a different song
you left your heart/in san francisco/getting down at the
disco/when she walked up/too your hand/danced you
down/danced you down/when you land/land on me/you see me/
I'm off the wall/against the wall/I can't call/you can't hear/above the
noise/above the sound/she dances you up/she dances you down/
I grab my coat/and then I'm gone/ to the tune of a different song/
to the tune of a different song/miss me when I'm gone/to the tune
of a different song
the holiday covered in snow/now you're back/where'd you go? /
you got a number/she give you her's/was it hot/ what've you got/
did she take your breath away/what have you got to say/did she take your
breath away/on the beach/in the sun/on the sand/on the run/ in the heat/
in the cold/what have you got left to hold/she took your hand/but now she's gone/
and here I stand/life goes on/to the tune of a different song/to the tune of a different
song/miss me when I'm gone/to the tune of a different song
Mist Hidden Fantasy
The mad piper played the hornpipe
in the evening mist near the fairy glade
and water sprites dances across the lochs waters.
The monster roared from the depth below
in keeping with the tune
and a wolf howled at a hidden moon
on a hill draped with heather.
Owlets awoke with watchful eyes
as their mother swooped from the skies.
The mist rolled down the glen,
then up the hill at the other end.
The castle stood faintly still
as shadows watched from the brow of the hill.
You could not call this the dead of night
with all the watchful eyes hidden from sight.
Still, the mad piper played
his tunes of joyful reverie
while the moon remained
in the mist hidden from sight.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
Amar Singh, A Political Middleman
A political middleman,
Other's weakness is his greatest strength,
Trusts only himself
And likes to be trusted,
A political commission agent,
Helps others bail out of their problems,
On hefty commission,
He is adept in the art of making wrong
A perfect right,
He is loquacious, And people take delight in this habit,
First he saves himself,
And then growls at others,
A perfect baldy and short man,
But ranks himself among film stars,
He is favourite to the star of the millenium,
Who is extremely cautious about his image,
But I am sorry to make out
In what way he(Mr. Bachchan) will be able to save his image
In the company of a middleman,
He(the middleman) has hitherto been able to save himself,
For he has readymade traps(CD's) for others,
He has an art of black mailing others,
He black mails others with the help of the court,
Neither court has a least feeling of being utilized
Nor the victim has a single hint of being black mailed,
And thus he serves his purpose,
What a man he is!
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I see Christ as the incarnation of the piper who is calling us. He dances that shape and pattern which is at the heart of our reality.
quote by Sydney Carter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
The Poet's Pride
The publisher
Is the poet's pride
Because the publisher
Reads a lot of manuscripts that are
Submitted
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
If you want to publish two books a year under your own name and your publisher doesn't, maybe you need a different publisher.
quote by Dean Koontz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
The publisher has told - you know, if these editors, Andres Martinez and Nick Goldberg, were the least bit honest about this, they would tell you the publisher has told them he wants the editorial page to be conservative.
quote by Robert Scheer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!