Thelonious Sphere Monk: there's not a more perfect name to fit his compositions than that name.
quote by Matthew Shipp
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His name, even, is part of the marketing scheme, I mean, Thelonious Sphere Monk - how can you think of a better name to fit his style of playing?
quote by Matthew Shipp
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The first jazz pianist I heard was Thelonious Monk. My father was listening to an album of his called 'Monk's Dream' almost every day from the time I was born.
quote by Benny Green
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I never though much about race.
quote by Thelonious Monk
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I don't know what other people are doing - I just know about me.
quote by Thelonious Monk
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We have two kids, my wife and myself.
quote by Thelonious Monk
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Everybody in all countries tries to play jazz.
quote by Thelonious Monk
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All musicians are subconsciously mathematicians.
quote by Thelonious Monk
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Be-bop wasn't developed in any deliberate way.
quote by Thelonious Monk
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I'd go stupid collecting and counting my money.
quote by Thelonious Monk
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I can shoot pool, and I can play ping-pong. I'm pretty good at those games.
quote by Thelonious Monk
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I went through the whole number, you know. The swing era, the boogie woogie era, the bebop era. Thelonious Monk is still one of my favorites. So a lot of these people had their effect on me.
quote by Mose Allison
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I guess, you know, if I didn't make it with the piano, I guess I would've been the biggest bum.
quote by Thelonious Monk
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The more original something is, the more of a threat it seems until the people catch up with it. That happened with Thelonious Monk. It happened with anybody who is really original.
quote by Steve Lacy
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On Reading Mr. Theodore Watt’s Sonnet, ‘The Sonnet’s Voice’
An art grows up from year to year:
The critic weighs the utmost gains,
The last result, the perfect sphere,
Not the steps, but what remains;
Sees the analogue, ebb and flow,—
Beautiful, yes, look at it near,—
The flow, the ebb returning so,—
It is at last art's perfect sphere.
But not the less our Shakespeare knew
Another way; by full discourse
To show his picture as it grew,
Worked out in many-sided force.
Then when the heart can wish no more,
With a strong couplet bars the door.
poem by William Bell Scott
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Perfect Part 2
I don’t need perfect cloth
I don’t need perfect hair
What I need is a confidence
I don’t need perfect score
I don’t need perfect job
What I need is a support
I don’t need perfect word
I don’t need perfect dream
What I need is a chance
I don’t need perfect agreement
I don’t need perfect control
What I need is a solution
I don’t need perfect holiday
I don’t need perfect memories
What I need is a peace of mind
I don’t need perfect home
I don’t need perfect family
What I need is a comfort
I don’t need perfect love
I don’t need perfect life
What I need is an understanding
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Your Perfect Little Girl...
Your perfect little girl dropped a grade on her report card.
Your perfect little girl yelled at you last night.
Your perfect little girl painted her nails black.
Your perfect little girl lied to you all her life.
Your perfect little girl cries herself to sleep.
Your perfect little girl slits her wrists till she bleeds.
Your perfect little girl hates you.
Your perfect little girl hates herself.
Your perfect little girl has given up on life.
Your perfect little girl had a tantrum today.
Your perfect little girl has her head in the toilet after dinner.
Your perfect little girl wants to run away.
Your perfect little girl hasn't let you dry her tears.
Your perfect little girl disobeyed you.
Your perfect little girl hates the world.
Your perfect little girl is hated by the world.
Your perfect little girl is very unhappy.
Your perfect little girl tried to commit suicide.
Your perfect little girl became a disgrace.
Your perfect little girl keeps alot of secrets.
Your perfect little girl deals with everything on her own
Your perfect little girl had to grow up too fast.
Your perfect little girl is on the edge of breakdown.
Your perfect little girl just isn't so perfect anymore.
poem by Gabriela Valoy
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My Perfect Sister
MY PERFECT SISTER
My perfect sister holds me tight
My perfect sister kisses me goodnight
My perfect sister knows when I’m mad
My perfect sister helps me when I’m sad
My perfect sister is so smart
My perfect sister has my heart
My perfect sister is good and nice
My perfect sister holds me at night
My perfect sister loves me lots
My perfect sister ties the knot
My perfect sister is here to stay
My perfect sister I have until this very day
My perfect sister I wish you well
My perfect sister yes I can tell
My perfect sister asked if I lied
My perfect sister knows if I’ve cried
My perfect sister has moved away
->My perfect sister is in my heart to and will always stay
poem by Megan Sandifer
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Sorry I Am Not Perfect
I'm sorry for lying
I'm sorry for trying
I'm sorry for crying
I'm sorry for dying
I'm sorry Mom
I'm sorry Dad
I'm sorry for being bad.
I'm sorry not being a good lad.
I'm sorry for disobeying
I'm sorry for being dishonest
I'm sorry for being so churlish
Although I never said sorry
This is one way for being so naughty.
I may not be the perfect daughter.
I may not be the perfect sister.
I may not be even a perfect friend.
But I am not a perfect women.
My body isn't perfect.
My speech isn't perfect..
My work isn't perfect...
Why aren't I perfect?
poem by Monica Rose
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Spank It
1-hey sped!
2-hey what?
1- what you wanna do?
2- I wanna spank!
1-spank what?
2- spank my little monk!!
1-to the left
2- to the right!
1&2- spank it up and down all night!
1- spank the monk!
2- spank, spank the monk!
1- spank the monk!
1&2- spank spank, the monk!
song performed by by Eagles
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Memories
Our love is mixed with algae...
It is tasted with salt.
It is the first fruit of a great struggle for our freedom...
Our love,
sometimes like a spring breeze....
sometimes like a hurricane....
We can see the green waves crashing
And cooling the sand....
Between this old hot sand and the new salty waves
We can feel our perfect love,
We can see its ripples
And its shifting designs, left behind by the tide
And sculpted by our steps......
We can feel our angel,
That angel with injured wings,
We can hear him, still screaming,
We can see him in a sphere of air,
So well hidden.
Or maybe we are enclosed
In our sphere of reality,
Seemingly a dodecahedral geodesic sphere....
As though being hidden in psychological twilight.....
However,
We can hear the sound
That sound just like a screaming echo....
poem by Marieta Maglas
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