For I have learned to look on nature, not as in the hour of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes the still, sad music of humanity.
quote by William Wordsworth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
When recordings replaced concerts as the dominant mode of hearing music, our conception of the nature of performance and of music itself was altered.
quote by Charles Rosen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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I learned to speak first, and then to sign. I have never really known what it was like to hear, so I can't compare hearing aids to normal hearing.
quote by Marlee Matlin
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Which Me am I?
I'm not always the same,
I change from hour to hour.
The change is almost instant,
Yet only if you are looking.
With music I am free,
Other times I am chained.
I have nothing to call my own,
Except my music.
If you see me playing music,
I seem calm, at ease,
But take away my security blanket,
And I am just lost and confused.
With my music I can be free.
With my music, I am me.
© 2005
poem by Maria O'Connor
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Blame It On My Youth
If I expected love when first we kissed
Blame it on my youth
If only just for you I did exist
Blame it on my youth
I believed in everything
Like a child at three
You meant more than everything
All the world to me
If you were on my mind all night and day
Blame it on my youth
If I forgot to eat and sleep and pray
Blame it on my youth
If I cried a little bit
When first I learned the truth
Don't blame it on my heart
Blame it on my-y youth
If you were on my mind all night and day-ay
Blame it on my youth
If I forgot to eat and sleep and pray
Blame it on my youth
If I cried a little bit
When first I learned the truth
Don't blame it on my heart
Blame it on my youth
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Can Be Draining
Sometimes it can be draining,
And gets difficult...
To be in the midst,
Of thoughtless people.
Especially those who have aged,
To express less concern.
Or how their whims affect...
The ones who treasure their lessons learned.
At times emotional feelings exposed,
Are received to be ones embittered.
When sharing them amongst those,
Who could care less...
About the depthness of another's experiences.
And how those experiences are addressed,
Each day to expect, accept or reject.
Sometimes it can be draining,
And gets difficult...
To be in the midst,
Of thoughtless people.
Especially those who have aged,
To express less concern.
Or how their whims affect...
The ones who treasure their lessons learned.
It can be draining.
Isolating.
And reflectively disrespecting.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Villanelle
We said farewell, my youth and I,
When all fair dreams were gone or going,
And Love’s red lips were cold and dry.
When white blooms fell from tree-tops high—
Our Austral winter’s way of snowing—
We said farewell, my youth and I.
We did not sigh—what use to sigh
When Death passed as a mower mowing,
And Love’s red lips were cold and dry?
But hearing Life’s stream thunder by,
That sang of old through flowers flowing,
We said farewell, my youth and I.
There was no hope in the blue sky,
No music in the low winds blowing,
And Love’s red lips were cold and dry.
My hair is black as yet, then why
So sad! I know not, only knowing
We said farewell, my youth and I.
All are not buried when they die;
Dead souls there are through live eyes showing
When Love’s red lips are cold and dry.
So, seeing where the dead men lie,
Out of their hearts the grave-flowers growing,
We said farewell, my youth and I,
When Love’s red lips were cold and dry.
poem by Victor James Daley
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My Beautiful Nature
Nature is the beauty of the earth
The essential part of life,
It is the existence of humanity
Although there is constant strife.
Nature is rather appealing
The image of its green,
The human eye can testify
Its a gracious sight to be seen
Nature gives us fruit and water
Our blessings from the holy king,
It purifies and cleanses the body and soul
Its amazing what nature can bring.
Nature is sometimes downgraded
By the evils of mankind,
But nature brings herself back up
And she will not be left behind!
I love nature and appreciate everything it gives us...you should too!
poem by Genesis Learny
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I have never learned to read or write music so I am not a virtuoso musician like the others you mentioned. I am completely unable to play like them because I never learned classical music, I just developed my own crazy style!
quote by Ken Hensley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Music Beat
A constant beat forever scratches the back of my head
1,2,3,4
1,2,3,4
1,2,3,4
A constant rhythm to live by
To walk by
To talk by
Even to think by
Music has crawled into my brain
Nay my Body
Something that takes form
As I feed it
I feel it!
I am always hearing it!
It tickles my toes
It tingles my fingers
I feel it throughout my body
It permeates my very soul!
Music is more than a hobby
Music is almost more than a passion
Music is an addiction one and all must satisfy
But I feel that I succumb to it more than others
Yet it is not a bad thing, one cannot go through life without hearing music
Everyone is addicted to the enticing sounds of Music, no matter the form it takes;
The moment our ears taste the sound of music we crave more no matter the type;
Music is therapy for the soul
We listen to the music we feel our soul can relate to
But to create music is truly wonderful for you are not just showing your soul to the world;
One is pouring out one’s truest deepest emotions, that one cannot even express through words;
Creating music is taking a fruit and showing it to the world to prove that it is ripe;
poem by Aaron Burr
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Nobody ever.....
In his youth, his callow empty youth
his eyes were misty.
He learnt about sex from Cindy,
but nobody ever, no, nobody ever,
taught him how to love.
In his youth, his callow empty youth
his pockets were full.
He drank, he smoked, he learned to use a gun
but they never, no, nobody ever
taught him how to have fun.
In his youth, his callow empty youth
his wits were sharp.
He learnt to duck and dive and to deceive
but they never, no, nobody ever
taught him what it is to really live.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Not To Rewind..
Why we have learned to speak, if the silence loves our heart,
Why we have learned to be kind, if the cruelty rules our mind,
Why we have learned to be polite, if the rudeness runs in our blood,
Why we have learned to be human, if animal instincts still control and collaborate.
If the silence is treasured in the hearts, the families are lost,
If the cruelties are dignified and glorified, the nations are destroyed,
If the rudeness step on the policies, livelihood are bargained,
If we try to hunt and annihilate, humanity is betrayed and nullified.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Cosmic music
that soft music
it does'nt seem to be
falling into my ear
no..no it has not stopped either
it is just that
my thought is not on it there
nature seems to be in awe of it everywhere
nature seems to be
swinging and swaying
singing and dancing
along with it every where
nature seems to be living with it forever
is that why
nature has stopped ageing forever
this music..is it cosmic
poem by Samanyan Lakshminarayanan
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Youth is blind
Youth is power; youth is vigour;
Youth is initiative; youth is revolutionary;
Youth is dedication; youth is freedom;
Youth is love; youth is passion.
Yes, because youth is blind
Out of them elders make winds
01.01.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Youth Youth Youth
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
Never wanna be an adult
Always wanna be in revolt
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
Don't wanna spend my life saving up for things
Don't wanna have what a steady job brings
I don't want security
Don't want responsibility
Don't wanna stay at home not making any noise
I've always got to be out
I've always got to have a choice
I don't want security
Don't want responsibility
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
I don't want no uniform
I don't want no book of rules
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
Never wanna be an adult
Always wanna be in revolt
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
I don't want no uniform
I don't want no book of rules
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stories Of Hope Series #7 Is It Golden Or Is It Blind
Silence is golden or so they say
But how many can keep quite for a full day?
What about the people who were born to preach?
What would they do if they could not teach.
Then I take the opposite view: what would you do?
If you was born deaf never hearing a sound
No birds chirping, no dogs barking, no cats meowing
No laughter. These are the things the deaf are after.
SOUNDS! sounds of music, of joy, happiness.
But I was born blind.
I had hopes to one day see, and all my classmates laughed at me.
They said: you was born in darkness, and in darkness
You will be, from now and through eternity.
I learned colors, not by sight, but by emotions
And I practiced it with devotion.
They said my mother was traumatized during
her pregnancy, and somehow it affected me.
The doctors checked and could not understand why
That I had turned out blind.
My blindness became my greatest strength
Because it fine tuned my hearing.
I am blind and the deaf can not hear
But we have instincts beyond compare.
The deaf can not hear all the sounds of the world
Including a child at play, and for
my hearing I thank GOD every day.
The school then put me with a roommate who was deaf
And we got along swell, we showed each other how
It was to live in each others hell.
He covered up my ears so that I could not hear a sound
And I learned how to get around.
I did the same thing to him and blindfolded him
So that he could not see, and with all this we lived in harmony.
By doing this we learned a lesson that no one could teach
That even being deaf and blind, they could be reached.
I showed him that with a metal tip on a walking stick
You could feel the vibrations of different things
Foot steps, cars, “even music.’
Now that he could hear through the tip of a stick
He learned to dance really quick.
And although I could not see.
I held on to his waist
And he said: “follow me.’
Now I am going for some surgery, that they said
May help me see.
HOPE has rekindled in my heart, but from my friend
I did not want to part.
He let me know that he would stay by my side
And not to give up my hope, but to continue to strive.
He was with me every step of the way, and to GOD
I did pray. I thanked my lord up above for sending
Me this friend and sharing his love.
Three weeks later they took the band aids from my eyes
And the first thing that I saw when my eyes were clear
Was my friend standing there.
Tears filled our eyes as we embraced
For I was blessed by the HOLY GRACE.
He still can not hear, but he was the best man
At my wedding, and showed all the guests how to dance
If there Is someone who will give you a chance.
HOPE IS THE KEY TO SET YOU FREE
poem by Louis Rams
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The House
From knitted brows
Looks - my house,
As day of youth
Is greeting me.
As youth itself:
'Hello! It's me! '
Well-known forehead
Under the coat
Of ivy spread,
Confused by weight.
Was not in vain
The wade through mud
To this, it's plain,
Suggested hut.
The house
Like museum - old,
It's attic front -
Like Apollon
From ancient myth.
It'll shade me all
From noisy street,
So merged in poetry
Behind a tree.
It's eyes like panes,
So green and dim.
They looked for ages
At orchard bleak.
The glasses could
Prevent the guest
By their mood
To hold a test.
They ain't reflect
The world aside:
The mirrors best -
To look inside.
From knitted brows
Looks - my youth,
The nature - gown,
Nature sooth,
The nature - beads,
The nature - eyes
The nature - cries
Between the heaps
Of house walls,
The remnant blinks
Of junior soul
On linden leaves...
poem by Marina Tsvetaeva (06 September 1931), translated by Lyudmila Purgina
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What Is Music
What is music?
What is music?
Is music the languages that shoot out of my mouth and speak in silence?
Is music the moving of my lip according to my mind command?
What is music?
Music is the one two word that my mind put together in my mouth
Music is the airs that escape a snap of my violence teeth
Music is the wisdom sound my mind and mouth produce
Music is the combine sound that entertain my ear drum
What is music?
Music is a simple sound I verbalize to state my joyful soul
Music is the jingle that loosen my soul in time of desire
Music is the sounds that launch me to a free world
Music is the spirit that struggle in me
What is music?
Music is the sound I scream from my mouth to a free humanity
Music is a one two word I yell
Music is the lyric I cry to express my mental mind,
My beating heart
My jumping feet
My shouting soul
My sweating body
What is music?
Music is the rhythm of my voice, what is music? ?
poem by Robert Otim
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The Song and The Lyric
Jerry felt the music deep within his soul.
Music that echoed through the ages
Music of the human experience
Painful and beautiful
He did not know how to give it a voice.
He could sing, and he learned to play.
Songs that knitted together threads of time
While creating and playing songs
He heard his inner music
And his quest for the perfect song began
He shared his love of music
With a few special people
Who also had songs within their souls
But only a few understood his passion
And no one understood his quest
Until he met his accompaniment
Who also wrote songs
Together they created music
And the music in Jerry’s soul adapted
To the melody of their lives together
Their melody had distinct rhythm
Echoing a famous love song
Adante or allegro the tempo
Reflecting the wonders of life
And the pain of humanity
But their melody remained unfinished
Until their greatest collaboration
Came into the world
Now their melody had a consonance
Their song now had its Lyric.
poem by Stephanie Eve Kane Arado
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Old Age
Old age just seems to creep up on you.
You look at the sky and it seems brand new.
You look at the snow that seems so white
and look at your hair and see the same sight.
Old age is a gift some don't receive.
The ones that reach it do believe
that life's a blessing on every day
for they've learned nothing can stand in their way.
They've been through aches. They've been through pains.
They welcome the sun and welcome the rains.
They revel in the sight of every flower.
They're happy with naps that come for an hour.
They realize there are sounds they can't quite hear
but they're pleased with the silence in their ear.
They realize their memory can fade away
but remember their youth like it was yesterday.
They look at the stars that shine in the night
and know in the universe everything's right.
They learn not to judge themselves anymore
and understand what they came here for.
They've found it. They've reached it
and they learned it. And they finally know it was
love.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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