It looks like you can write a minimalist piece without much bleeding. And you can. But not a good one.

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I never feel that my music is sparse or minimalist; the way fat people never really think they're fat. I certainly don't consider myself minimalist at all.

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The Minimalist

Crimson Is The Color.

'Where?
I don't see it.'

The fingerprint.
The artist has signed this painting,
Or lack of it shown...
With just his thumbprint.

'How did you know,
Crimson Is The Color...
Was the title of this 'piece'?
I see absolutely nothing.'

Look at the thumbprint.
What color is it?
They call him 'The Minimalist'.

'But...
Where is the other part of the frame?
Only half of it appears on the portrait.
Or whatever this 'blank' canvas is called.'

That's why he is called, The Minimalist.
You have to find the meaning within yourself.

'At 'that' price?
I can buy a brand new car.'

That's nothing.
I invested in one of his prized portraits.
Entitled, 'Blocked Nose'.
You should see it.
I have it hanging over my mantle.
Right above the fireplace.

'And you can't get one poetry reading?
And this guy is making a fortune?
You need a manager.'

Yeah.
You might be right.
But what I do isn't considered 'art'.

poem by Lawrence S. PertillarReport problemRelated quotes
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Write Me

Aerosmith
Write Me
Well I've been away forever, suicide's crossin' my mind,
But I'll never never never never never get so far behind.
I said, the ways of the night are evil with eyes that love the day,
but I'll never never never never never get so far away.
I said write me, write me, write me.
I said write me, write me, write me.
Well there's nothin' I can see that'd ever make
me want to be without her she's good, she's good to me.
Said there's no way to explain the kind of feeling
that you get out in the rain she's good, she's good to me.
See this emptiness inside it makes me scream
it make me crawl out of my high, she's good, she's good to me.
I love her.
Write me a letter, write me a letter, write it today, I'm goin' away.
Well I've been away forever, suicide's crossin' my mind,
But I'll never never never never never get so far behind.
Well I've been so many places hidin' from the wind and the rain,
But you could write me a letter for to save me from a goin' insane.
I said write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write.
I said write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write me.
Don't write me baby.

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Write Me A Letter

Write me a letter
Write me a letter
Write it today
Im goin away (yes it has)
Write me a letter
Write me a letter
Write it today
Im goin away (yes it is)
Well Ive been away forever
Suicides crossin my mind
Well Ill never, never get so far behind
I said, the ways of the night are evil
Without that lord of day
But Ill never, never get so far away
I said write me
Write me
Write me
Write me
I said write me
Write me
Write me
Well theres nothin I can see
Thatd ever make me
Want to be without her
Shes good, she good to me
Said theres no way to explain
The kind of feelin that you get out in the
She good, she good to me
She good, she good to me
I love her
Write me a letter
Write me a letter
Write it today
Im goin away (yes it has)
Write me a letter
Write me a letter
Write it today
Im goin away (yes it is)
Well Ive been away forever
Suicides crossin my mind
Well Ill never, never get so far behind
Well Ive been so many places
Hidin from the wind and the rain
But you could write me a letter
For to save me from goin insane
Write me
Excite me
Write me
Write me
Write me
Write me...

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A Few Easy Pieces

Piece of this
piece of that

Peace and bliss,
Piece of crap

Peace of mind,
Piece of cake,

piece of work
Piece of steak,

Piece of eight
Piece of the action

Piece of the pie
Peace and satisfaction

Piece in the valley
Piece of glass

piece of my mind
Piece of a….

That’s quite enough now! ! !
Let’s quit this dance

Let’s stop while we’re ahead…
Let’s Give peace a chance

poem by David WhalenReport problemRelated quotes
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I'll Write You A Poem

I’ll write you a poem
Which will by the day remind you
That I’m still lurking around
As a good friend who’s always true

I’ll write you a poem
About friendships that fickle
About friends like fiends
So that you’ll remember I
With radiance like a star up in the sky

I’ll write you a poem
Of my longings and want
Which by the day makes me hurt
Bleeding black blood
Shedding tearless tears
How inside they flow
Because we’ve refused to water
What earlier we had sown

I’ll write you a poem
That will forever remind you
That as you are needed elsewhere
I need you too

But now please, allow me
To sip from my cup of coffee

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Piece Of My Heart

Didnt I make you feel
Like you were the only one
Didnt I give you everthing
That a man possibly can
But all the love I give you
Its never enough
But Im going to show you baby
That a man can be tough
Come on come on come on come on
And take it take another little
Piece of my heart
Break it break another little
Piece of my heart
Have it have another little
Piece of my heart
You know youve got it if it makes you feel good
Youre out on the street looking good
And you know deep down in your heart it aint right
And you never never hear me
When I cry for you each night
Sometimes I tell myself I cant stand the pain
But when I hold you in my arms
I say it again
Come on come on come on come on
And take it take another little
Piece of my heart
Break it break another little
Piece of my heart
Have it have another little
Piece of my heart
You know youve got it if it makes you feel good
Sometimes I tell myself I cant stand the pain
But when I hold you in my arms I say it again
Come on come on come on come on
And take it take another little
Piece of my heart
Break it break another little
Piece of my heart
Have it have another little
Piece of my heart
You know youve got it
So take it take another little
Piece of my heart
Break it break another little
Piece of my heart
Have it have another little
Piece of my heart
Take it take another little
Piece of my heart
Break it break another little
Piece of my heart
Have it have another little
Piece of my heart
(jerry ragavoy/burt burns)
Published by: planetary/nom

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Erica Jong

The End of the World

Here, at the end of the world,
the flowers bleed
as if they were hearts,
the hearts ooze a darkness
like india ink,
& poets dip their pens in
& they write.

"Here, at the end of the world,"
they write,
not knowing what it means.
"Here, where the sky nurses on black milk,
where the smokestack feed the sky,
where the trees tremble in terror
& people come to resemble them. . . . "

Here, at the end of the world,
the poets are bleeding.
Writing & bleeding
are thought to be the same;
singing & bleeding
are thought to be the same.

Write us a letter!
Send us a parcel of food!
Comfort us with proverbs or candied fruit,
with talk of one God.
Distract us with theories of art
no one can prove.

Here at the end of the world
our heads are empty,
& the wind walks through them
like ghosts
through a haunted house.

poem by Erica JongReport problemRelated quotes
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Early Dawn

again the sounds of the strong waves
reverberate in your mind
the strong winds may have gone
to another place
you know not where but they will always be there
you are bound to write another piece
perhaps one now for your niece
oh, there are other more important things to do
they all tell you
but you cannot do otherwise
you are bound to write another piece
a beautiful one
another important piece
not only for your niece

something about inner peace
not about Greece or any caprice
it is about God and goodness full
He keeps on loving on a handful
All of you, without crease without grease
His love unceased, always a timepiece.

poem by Ric S. BastasaReport problemRelated quotes
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A Piece Of You

Im just trying to live this life of mine
The more I look, the more Im blind
And all I ask for is piece of mind
And all I want is a piece of you
Well I lost my way today
Back home from work
The snow fell like dust
I felt like dirt
Happens everytime I start to search
For that long lost piece of you
A piece of you
A piece of you
A piece of you
It seems the last time I was sure
Of anything
I sold my heart
I wore your ring
But now, the queen has lost her king
All I want is a piece of you
A piece of you
A piece of you
A piece of you

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Write the bad things that are done to you in sand, but write the good things that happen to you on a piece of marble.

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Like a seed

It’s impossible to force
A good piece of writing
It can only come from inspiration
It should flow from the mind
To the fingers and then
Through the keyboard
To the screen

A good piece of writing
Will come of it’s own volition
Without urging, yet with compulsion.
A certain musical phrase you’ve read
A lyrical play of words
That sticks in your mind
Can be the impetus for the lifting
Of the flood gates of inspiration

And once opened, has a compulsive
Addiction, that can be indulged freely
And yet will not be denied
Write down every sentence
or fragment thereof, any phrase
That catches your fancy
and feels good on the tongue

A good piece of writing
Has a sensual quality
That one can almost taste
As it’s written, and can be shared
Wantonly with readers
who choose to indulge

A good piece of writing
is a seed that is planted
In one’s mind, and from which
The words effortlessly grow
It can never be forced
or be pushed to the fore
It will grow from that seed
And will blossom before your eyes

It can grow freely, unfettered
From the most minute idea
But good writing, like a seed
Can never be forced to grow

poem by David WhalenReport problemRelated quotes
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My Lovers Box

My lovers charms
Are in a box
Beneath my bed
And piece by piece
Ill cherish them
Until the end
Send me an angel to love
I need to feel a little piece of heaven
Send me an angel to love
Im afraid Ill never get to heaven
They burn my hands
Scar my face
And blind my eyes
Ill steal your breath
And throw away
What I despise
Send me an angel to love
I need to feel a little piece of heaven
Send me an angel to love
Im afraid Ill never get to heaven
Between these walls
And darkened halls
Ive done my time
If I should die
Before I wake
Then youll know why
Send me an angel to love
I need to feel a little piece of heaven
Send me an angel to love
Im afraid Ill never get to heaven, piece by piece
Send me an angel to love, piece by piece
I need to feel a little piece of heaven, piece by piece
Send me an angel to love, piece by piece
Im afraid Ill never get to heaven, piece by piece
Piece by piece
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel

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Piece Of Crap (Eddie Vedder & Ministry) (White Label Demo)

Neil Young) (various dates)
Tried to save the trees, bought a plastic bag
The bottom fell out, it was a piece 'a crap...piece of crap...
Wanted an LP, only had CD's
Digitally clean, it was a piece of crap...piece of crap...
Bought myself a can, thought it'd take me far
The dealer was a liar, he was a piece of crap...piece of crap...
Got it from my friend, on him you can depend
I found out in the end, it was a piece of crap...piece of crap...
I'm trying to save the trees, I saw it on TV
They cut the forest down to build a piece of crap...piece of crap...
Picked up a magazine to read about the scene
It didn't tell me beans, it was a piece of crap...piece of crap...
I went back to the store, they gave me four more
The guy told me at the door it was a piece of crap...
It was a piece of crap

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Make a living will. Talk about it. Death is going to happen to everybody. Write it down. Even if you write it on a piece of paper at home and have your family witness it, you need to write it down.

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Bertolt Brecht

Questions

Write me what you're wearing! Is it warm?
Write me how you lie! Do you lie there softly?
Write me how you look! Is it still the same?
Write me what you're missing! Is it my arm?

Write me how you are! Have you been spared?
Write me what they're doing! Do you have enough courage?
Write me what you're doing! Is it good?
Write me, who are you thinking of? Is it me?

Freely, I've given you only my questions.
And I hear the answers, how they fall.
When you're tired, I can't carry it for you.

If you're hungry, I have nothing for you to eat.
And so now I leave the world
No longer there, as if I've forgotten you.

poem by Bertolt BrechtReport problemRelated quotes
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The Argument Of His Book

THE ARGUMENT OF HIS BOOK
I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers,
Of April, May, of June, and July flowers.
I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes,
Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes.
I write of youth, of love, and have access
By these to sing of cleanly wantonness.
I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by piece
Of balm, of oil, of spice, and ambergris.
I sing of Time's trans-shifting; and I write
How roses first came red, and lilies white.
I write of groves, of twilights, and I sing
The court of Mab, and of the fairy king.
I write of Hell; I sing (and ever shall)
Of Heaven, and hope to have it after all.

poem by Robert HerrickReport problemRelated quotes
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Barack Obama

A good compromise, a good piece of legislation, is like a good sentence; or a good piece of music. Everybody can recognize it. They say, 'Huh. It works. It makes sense.'

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Bleeding Rose

her beauty flourished watching her grow
but time has taken it’s toll
dead silence grows for the bleeding rose
yet a piece of her is left in my soul

a symbol of love that I should know
bleeding rose is just a blur
for the bleeding rose, dead silence grows
left in my soul is a piece of her

symbol of love where petals aglow
so time has passed as a blink
dead silence grows for the bleeding rose
gone is the rose as it makes me think

the sight of the rose breeds thoughts of you
knowing your soul is now dead
for the bleeding rose, dead silence grows
now you're gone as the rose was once red

Author notes:

ZaniLa Rhyme
The ZaniLa Rhyme, a form created by Laura Lamarca, consists 4 lines per stanza. The rhyme scheme for this form is abcb and a syllable count of 9/7/9/9 per stanza. Line 3 contains internal rhyme and is repeated in each odd numbered stanza. Even stanzas contain the same line but swapped. The ZaniLa Rhyme has a minimum of 3 stanzas and no maximum poem length.

poem by Amera AndersenReport problemRelated quotes
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Invincible Companion

Sometimes, you feel possessed…,
You hear voice whisper verses to your ears,
You pick your pen and write.

Sometimes, you want to add your line,
But, the voice will say; ‘No, it is not that way,
Listen very attentively, and, write’.

Sometimes, you will add your own line, and the voice
Will say, “Fine, it is alright”…,

Sometimes, you write before you think,
Sometimes, you omit some lines, then, you will have to wait
Long-temporally to get them back.

Sometimes, you get just the sketch, it becomes
An assignment to complete….

Sometimes, you argue with the voice for days
Before you turn out a piece; you listen, you think,
You write, cancel, and rewrite.

Sometimes,
When you become,
You look at the piece, and, you say, what a beautiful
Verses 1 have written.

Then, you will look back and say,
I never wrote that, I am just a tool in the hands
Of supernatural conspirators,
I am been used to respond to events,
Sometimes…
©2001

poem by Akachukwu ChukwuemekaReport problemRelated quotes
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