My training in music and composition then led me to a kind of musical language process in which, for example, the sound of the words I play with has to expose their true meaning against their will so to speak.
quote by Elfriede Jelinek
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
A Big Or Brief Poetry......!
Big or brief, what is poetry?
Poetry is......
Creating beauty out of blemish,
Making order out of disorder,
Producing meaning out of musical words,
Creating Universal truth out of trivialities,
Arranging points out of less known facts!
Is poetry just making rhythm and rhyme
Without meaning, life, force and taste,
Without free flowing musical words,
Without words of music, beauty, fun?
Poetry is free flowing river of words
With full of images, lively and lovely,
Transporting from this world to that world
Forgetting himself and readers here!
Just end rhyme is not enough to make it so;
Internal rhymes make music in rhythm
Making all enjoy music, meaning and ideas!
Poetry is the medium to say complex things
Not possible to say in other forms of language,
Saying unknown things using known things;
It is sound, substance, message and meaning!
And many more matters to many men in the world!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let It All Be Music
Music is a mirror
Near around my soul
Music is the spirit
Come on let it roll
Music is my nature
People have you heard
Music is my future
Music is the world
Let it all be music
People sing a song
Let it all be music
Let us sing it on and on and on and on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on and on and on
Music isnt somewhere
Music turns you right
Music is a fever
Leads you day and night
Music is like heaven
Where you wanna be
Music is religion
Music sets you free
Let it all be music
People sing a song
Let it all be music
Let us sing it on and on and on and on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on and on and on
Music is tomorrow
Music is today
Music is forever
Music is the way
Music is for women
Music is for men
Music is for children
Sing it all again
Let it all be music
People sing a song
Let it all be music
Let us sing it on and on and on and on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on and on and on
I can feel it, in my soul
I can feel it, in my heart
Sweet sweet sweet music
Music
Sweet sweet sweet music
Sweet music
Play it on
Play it on
My my my my my kind of music
Play it
Play the music
My my my my my kind of music
Play it
I said play it
On and on and on and on
Music
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The whole process of rehearsing a play involves so many creative and dramatic exercises, that this became my training. In fact, I still consider myself in training. Every time I work it's an educational process because I learn by watching other actors. My career is always going to be an on-going study.
quote by Bill Nunn
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Words Sometimes Take On A Own Meaning
Words sometimes take on a own meaning
and sometimes they are sharp and painful
as if there is much more to words
as if a kind of secret knowledge hides in them
that are sometimes something moving.
Words sometimes take on a own meaning
but somehow words can at times miss things
and are sometimes dependent on feelings
as if there is much more to words
when through it all love brings a kind of bonding
and so you and I are attractive to each other.
Words sometimes take on a own meaning
and daily a bond develops between us,
while you become more considerable to me,
as if there is much more to words
you constantly live in my thoughts,
while love becomes real through words.
Words sometimes take on a own meaning
as if there is much more to words…
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why I Can't Rhyme
i sat on the ground
making rhymeless sounds
it was flawless
my music flew me higher
than any of my friends
but you've got your pictures
and all your priceless words
i'm far too anti-social
to be that kind of artist
so now i'm in hell
just lookin for a way out
what gives you the right
to put me there in the first place?
my music was beautiful
you ain't nothin but deceiptful
with your stupid paintings
pointless words
music is a language all of itself
and you could never have done
what i done
what i created
now you hatin me
you took and you take
from all my brothers
we are the kings
of creation
when it comes to musical notes
but you jealous
so you read our minds
steal our music
and then you scare the livin music
outside of us
i've forgotten
all that i've ever created thanks to you
you fuckin liar
sendin me to a musicless hell
while you listen to my shit in heaven
poem by Robert Jackson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wistful Words
O voluptuous lip, do whisper in my ear
What mine heart desires, what I want to hear
Love's soul in music, thy musical soul
To fill mine to overflow it full
With the meaning of love, thou soul's definition
The auger of truth our love in premonition
In those wistful words that lover's speak
I love you, I love you
For in those words thy soul and all souls seek
Life, and what's in life true….
My love, I'll say it too, I love you….
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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yes, what if God does not speak english at all?
you were not born yesterday
and probably heard it before
that if your God does not speak english
then he must not be God
of course, something arrogant
hangs in the air
of this effortless superiority that
'englishers'
'english-plongplangs'
clai m, which, of course, we
always oppose and dub
as prettry dumb silly
but anyhow, yes, we are asked again
what if?
what if, this God, does not really speak English?
well, of course, he is still God
and he must not have considered the english language
that important
and i agree, even if i speak it,
i still have this language
of my soul,
albeit, in english, for you,
who does not speak my own language,
yes, of course, for you to perhaps
understand,
but i like it though, this thought
that God does not speak
the english language, lest, he may sound
so englishly, oh well,
arrogant.....
dear God
do you really...not speak english?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry Is Not Just A Game We Play With Words
POETRY IS NOT JUST A GAME WE PLAY WITH WORDS
Poetry is not just a game we play with words-
There is Beauty-
And there is Meaning-
And there is something beyond
What we have heard before
Music also-
Poetry is not given to final definition
Altered as it is and augmented
by every true new voice -
But then too
Without that play of words
How poetic can the poetry be?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The pull between sound and syntax creates a kind of musical tension in the language that interests me.
quote by Marilyn Hacker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You know, they were returning to the language of the people and trying to use musical language, particularly as Copland did to create a musical language in which all Americans would feel that they had a stake.
quote by Michael Tilson Thomas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Illusion Of A Poet!
I cherish music
But can't play a tune
I love songs
But can't even sing
I know
I can't be a musician
But my heart is full
With saccharine melodies
Life for me
Is sort of a lullaby
that flows in variables
From ballad to acoustic
Or country beats to modern
Whatever kind it may be
My existence is a composition
From which derive innate melody
Music is an expression
Contains ardent sentiments
That decipher the mysteries
In songs played in the heart
The love, hate or ennui
Stimulate the emotions
Enthused influx of inspirations
Stimulate life's meaning
I can not feel life
as a poet
If the music dies
poem by Marvin Brato Sr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Music is...
Music is...
Music is expression...
Music is freedom...
Music is the song of life...
Music is notes...
Music is noise...
Music is beat...
Music is relaxing...
Music is peace...
Music is loud...
Music is calm...
Music is meaningful...
Music is sound...
Music is heart...
Music is soul...
Music is mind...
Music is body...
Music is nature...
Music is language...
Music is the song of my life...
Music is everything...
Music is me...
Music is....
poem by Madeline anderson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spontaneity
on a spontaneity
i begin to put words,
whatever comes, without much selection process
i put the word
without so much scrutiny as to what happens next
without weighing the possible consequences
i know the law of physics
much more the rules of a good composition
we were taught that in the university
but the the rules true to its standing
are meant to be broken
one gets a style of his own depending on the
kind of grief
the face of joy the state of compulsion
the phobia and the scruples that
crowd the head
the heart,
i sit on the chair facing the screen of the computer
and begin to put the line of words
one by one
like they are vines growing right from my mouth
coming out from my chest
and then
something shows
a face of words, the eyes of the certain mood,
someone moves in there
dancing and then stopping
on a pause
confrontational about what is this all about
and why.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Making Sense Of Sound
SENSE OF SOUND
In Plato’s time fools used to say
there are no rules for music that you play.
Being law-abiding when you write
a piece of music often won’t excite
the fools who will demand of you to break
its laws, while claiming that the word mistake
doe not apply to music. It is pleasure
that’s their bottom line, every measure
composed in any manner the composer
may wish. I do not want to be imposer
of any law that may inhibit your
ability to write, but I feel sure
that ultimately it is only fools
who break in music, as in life, all rules.
In music as in life there’s right and wrong,
and both of them, in order to last long,
must follow norms, as Plato once declared.
a view that by this poet now is shared,
while hoping antinomians are not friendless,
like Wagner making melody that’s endless.
Music is a stock that never should be shorted.
Like any lover that you may have courted,
it follows rules on which you should go long,
avoiding dissonances that sound wrong,
except for all the ones that are resolved
like problems that in life that have been solved.
Only by preventing disappearance
of rules can life-like music reach coherence.
Inspired by Plato, cited in “Making Sense of Sound, ” by James F. Penrose in the WSJ, January 27,2010, reviewing Ruth Katz’s “A Language of Its Own, ” describing a grammar of music that evolved over the centuries without any overt instruction, giving an internal coherence to music and allowing it to adapt to cultural and social change, with a shared understanding between musicians and audiences. Penrose writes;
“Through foolishness they deceived themselves into thinking that there was no right or wrong way in music, that it was to be judged good or bad by the pleasure that it gave.” With these words Plato complained about the “promiscuous cleverness and a spirit of law-breaking” that characterized the music of the time—the fourth century B.C. Even then, it seems, music had a form and structure that guided its composition and performance, for “law-abiding” musicians anyway…. Beethoven, in Mr. Katz’s view, never damaged the system of harmonic tonality and “integrated” form, for all his iconoclasm. But a succession of composers––including Schumann, Liszt and, above all, Wagner––chipped away at coherence by preparing unprepared and unresolved chords, chromatic alterations, and above all modulations into remote keys. With his “unendlische Melodie (infinite melody) and other devices, Wagner savaged traditional musical structures even as he created astonishingly beautiful music. The gulf between past and present widened as the 20th century progressed––but there were pockets of resistance, Ms. Katz observes. Debussy joined the moderns in rebelling against the constraints of harmonic tonality but found coherence in modal forms and in melodic tonality. Composers like Bartok, Ravel and Janacek, though also pushing the boundaries of traditional harmony, appealed to the ear by retaining crucial elements of traditional tonality… [Ms Katz] is hopeful that musical tradition can regain its footing, perhaps by recreating the “abstracting” process that allowed Wesstern music, despite its inability to describe what it does, to beguile and fascinate us for so long.
1/27/10
poem by Gershon Hepner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who's To Blame
Oh Mother Ghana; Mother Ghana
What has happened to you?
What has happened to your culture?
They say we've fold arms against 'Vernacular' language
Instead opened arms wide to 'English' language
Oh Mother Ghana Mother Ghana
Why?
At school, we are taught the things we do not know
By the 'English' language
Why not 'Vernacular' language?
Oh Mother Ghana, Oh Mother Ghana
Where is your true identity as pure African?
Where is your pride as true Ghanaian?
Oh Mother Ghana, Oh Mother Ghana,
Day after day
When we put on the uniform as students
We are forbidden to speak 'Vernacular' language
Instead the 'English' language
Why Mother Ghana, why Mother Ghana?
When we speak 'Vernacular' language; your culture,
They say: 'Speak English' someone's culture!
When we speak 'English' that someone's culture
They say: 'Abrofosem; speak vernacular language' your culture!
Oh Mother Ghana, Oh Mother Ghana
Who's to blame?
'English or Vernacular language'
Oh Mother Ghana; Oh Mother Ghana.
poem by Francis Julian Zewu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love has its own language
The intensity of kisses,
the look in eyes
that burns flaming,
the touch of hands
which is loaded with intensity,
is all without true meaning
if there isn’t love
between partners.
Love has its own language,
that people speak with each other
and at times words are needless:
The silent understanding
of what is going on in the heart,
the gladness and trust
which leaks out of its own accord,
the being together
without having
to touch each other;
says deeper things
without having to use words.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beautiful Music
Before I knew that I was blessed
When I was just like the rest of the people
Who never let dreams in their minds
Music would play and say
Maybe you're wastin' your time
Before I knew what good could be
When I couldn't see the need or the reason
For trusting in me or my star
Music would play and say
Hey, what a dummy you are!
And when I heard all the words about passion
Singin' to me about love of a fashion
That I never heard anywhere else
That's when I said,
"Gotta get some of that for myself"
And when I heard about hurtin' and healin'
Beautiful words about beautiful feelings
What lots of believin' could do
Beautiful music, I knew it just had to be true
You're beautiful
Beautiful Music
Beautiful Music
Beautiful Music
Beautiful Music
Beautiful Music
Before I saw my life in lights
When I couldn't taste the nights I was missin'
I'd listen alone in my bed
And music would sing to me
Things no one else even said
And when I heard all the words about passion
Singin' to me about love of a fashion
That I never heard anywhere else
That's when I said,
"Gotta get some of that for myself"
And when I heard about hurtin' and healin'
Beautiful words about beautiful feelings
What lots of believin' could do
Beautiful music, I knew it just had to be true
You're beautiful
Beautiful Music
Beautiful Music
Beautiful Music
Beautiful Music
Beautiful Music
Beautiful, Beautiful Music
Beautiful, Beautiful, Beautiful Music
Beautiful, Beautiful Music
Beautiful, Beautiful, Beautiful Music
Beautiful, Beautiful Music
Beautiful, Beautiful Music
-acapo
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Deathless Music!
Music never dies!
There's music
For all occasions!
Music lives
By the noise of
Musical instruments!
Music flourishes
By the poetic lines
Of best poets!
Music for joy
Just as for grief
Lives with man!
Music consoles
Crying child
From birth on!
Music makes all
Slave of sweet sound
Called melody!
All love music
Intellectuals or cowboys
As in movies!
Music occupies
Till the end of life
Of all ever!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Soul and body
Oh, dear poems
I always addressed you to him
As I thought of you as medium
You were away near but kept mum
You made me to speak
Kept reminding me about peak
Even thought I was weak
You forced on me to stick
I take it as blessings
There can't be anything like missing
You are always there when I wish to assert
Come out in verses and visibly seen in concert
I know time is precious
Yet thought process is continuous
I know for sure you always remain in my mind
I spare now sometime for you to find
Cuckoo has no business to air melody
That can be assigned to anybody
But some one has to play that role
Nature has made it strictly as per rules
We have to play all kind of roles but differently
To express thoughts and present it vehemently
In such condition you invade mind decisively
I too accept it gladly and project positively
You have distinct place and position
Not all can make effective composition
I consider it as heavenly gift and art
Like Human soul and body as inseparable part
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Since in music we deal with notes, not words, with chords, with transitions, with color and expression, the musical meaning always based on those notes as written and nothing else - has to be divined.
quote by Claude Arrau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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