When I was a young man, I was a baritone, very far from possessing the whole range of the tenor then.
quote by Placido Domingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The baritone can serve functions that the alto and tenor cannot, in orchestral voicing.
quote by Gerry Mulligan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The soprano has all those other instruments in it. It's got the soprano song voice, flute, violin, clarinet, and tenor elements and can even approach the baritone in intensity.
quote by Steve Lacy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Observations on Eloquence
precise speakers
don't coin metaphors
sloppy seakers,
for want of exact similies
create a new phrase
sometimes more colorful
originated for want of language
or poverty,
the test of a new phrase or metaphor
is time
if adopted or repeated
alas eloquence is the lilt
and cadence sonorus
baritone or tenor
poem by Shimon Weinroth
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Sentimentality
Let us play music, any rhythm at hand.
Orchestral, some Jazz and a Rock'n'Roll Band.
Divas a-singing, their high notes so fine,
Love song and ballad... a poetical line.
Let there be romance with no sad goodbyes.
Just moonlight and roses and summertime skies.
Rich tenor and baritone, a sweet violin.
Sentimentality... 'Begin the Beguine'.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Some people say there was no jazz tenor before me. All I know is I just had a way of playing and I didn't think in terms of any other instrument but the tenor.
quote by Coleman Hawkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Advice To A Girl
No one worth possessing
Can be quite possessed;
Lay that on your heart,
My young angry dear;
This truth, this hard and precious stone,
Lay it on your hot cheek,
Let it hide your tear.
Hold it like a crystal
When you are alone
And gaze in the depths of the icy stone.
Long, look long and you will be blessed:
No one worth possessing
Can be quite possessed.
poem by Sara Teasdale
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Tenorman
Sweet sad young tenor
Horn slumped around neck
Bearded full of junk
Slouches waiting
For Apocalypse,
Listens to the new
Negro raw trumpet kid
Tell him the wooden news;
And the beat of the bass
The bass—drives in
Drummer drops a bomb
Piano tinkle tackles
Sweet tenor lifting
All American sorrows
Raises mouthpiece to mouth
And blows to finger
The iron sounds
poem by Jack Kerouac
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The Perfect Song
If I wrote the perfect song,
Its notes and how the cords
Ought to be played-
The song would be one to
Describe our love's journey
All our highs, lows, ups, downs,
Laughs- our cries—
Its melody would be tailored by
Orchestral instruments;
A shed of electric guitars and drums,
Its beat, our heartbeat- beating as one,
Choir of two, we would sing this song
Lost in ourselves; alto, baritone, bass,
Soprano, tenor- oh! The jollity,
Singing our past, singing our present
And our future- the now
We would sing with our heart and voice
The perfect song would never end.
poem by Isunge Mwangase
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Take a young woman for the pleasure of possessing her until she is old.
Not The One to Come Possessing Me
You,
From me...
Would like to disable,
All my fantasies!
But not one will you take,
Away from me.
Or eliminate desires from my heart to believe.
No You,
And I...
Are never gonna come to realize,
Eye to eye...
That love,
Is a capture that's free!
You're not the one to come to possess me!
Uh uh.
You...wish,
To be everything in life you think that I miss.
But you,
Show no interest or need...
To be the one to take,
And give to please!
No You,
And I...
Are never gonna come to realize,
Eye to eye...
That love,
Is a capture that's free!
You're not the one to come to possess me!
Uh uh.
Not the one to come,
Possessing me!
Uh uh.
You're not the one to come to possess me!
Uh uh.
Not the one to come,
Possessing me!
Uh uh.
You're not the one to come possessing me!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The baritone singer
The magic.
Across the dreaming sky,
Memories and tears
Hanging down
Magnolias
In crying bouquets,
Illusions
Trying
To please the pleasant sound,
Certainties
Existent inside
Despite an indistinct understanding,
The sky having the same stars
Mixed with
The same dreams,
The stars having the same shine,
The baritone singer
Trying
To sound the pleasantness,
Trying
To please the soundness,
The baritone singer
Trying
To dream his star,
Trying
To star in his dream.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Troilus And Cressida
Can life be a blessing,
Or worth the possessing,
Can life be a blessing if love were away?
Ah no! though our love all night keep us waking,
And though he torment us with cares all the day,
Yet he sweetens, he sweetens our pains in the taking,
There's an hour at the last, there's an hour to repay.
In ev'ry possessing,
The ravishing blessing,
In ev'ry possessing the fruit of our pain,
Poor lovers forget long ages of anguish,
Whate'er they have suffer'd and done to obtain;
'Tis a pleasure, a pleasure to sigh and to languish,
When we hope, when we hope to be happy again.
poem by John Dryden
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Can life be a blessing
Can life be a blessing,
Or worth the possessing,
Can life be a blessing if love were away?
Ah no! though our love all night keep us waking,
And though he torment us with cares all the day,
Yet he sweetens, he sweetens our pains in the taking,
There's an hour at the last, there's an hour to repay.
In ev'ry possessing,
The ravishing blessing,
In ev'ry possessing the fruit of our pain,
Poor lovers forget long ages of anguish,
Whate'er they have suffer'd and done to obtain;
'Tis a pleasure, a pleasure to sigh and to languish,
When we hope, when we hope to be happy again.
poem by John Dryden
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What is it about possessing things Why do we feel the need to own what we love, and why do we become jerks when we do We've all been there-- you want something, to possess it. By possessing something you lose it. You finally win the girl of your dreams, the first thing you do is change her. The little things she does with her hair, the way she wears her clothes or the way she chews her gum. Pretty soon what you like, what you changed, what you don't like, blends together like a watercolor in the rain.
quote by Jeff Melvoin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Greediness
A begging bowl is a filling bowl.
On its filling too, it tends to beg.
A grabbing grab is a possessing grab.
On its possessing too, it tends to grab.
Greediness is not the effect of the emptiness.
05.03.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Range War
Yore daddy runs sheep and mah uncle runs cattle
Nothin can keep us out of this battle they wage
As it burns up the range, til no man is left
In the saddle
Yore ranch is upstream and they dammed up the water
Thirsty cows scream for mah uncle to slaughter
The sheep while yore daddys asleep
And I do the same for his daughter
If I had my own way, we would be together
Back in pittsburgh
Its the only town east of the river I know
And I feel kinda bad, bringin our grief
Upon this pore old farmers house
But we aint got nowhere else to go
Three years on this range since they started the range war
Nothing has changed except maybe change for the worst
If Id married you first,
There might not have been any range war
You wouldnt be lost to the range war
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Saxophones
Saxophones
By: jimmy buffett
1974
I cut my teeth on gumbo rock, benny stillman and dr. john
Sweet erma thomas and frogman henry
Used to boogie woogie all night long
Though I love rock n roll the acoustic guitar
Was the only way I had of becomin a star
Im doin really nice and travellin around
But they wont play my record in my old home town
Chorus:
But if I had saxophones
Yeah, big baritone cleanin up the muddy breaks
If I had saxophones
I could get some recognition from that mobile, alabama d.j.
Livin by the ocean, sometimes I get the notion
To take my janey downtown
We hang out in a funky little bar
They call it the shipwreck lounge
Well we get kind of drunk and we play rock n roll
Grabbin everybody right down in his soul
When we get to cookin somethins still wrong
Theres still somethin missin from them good ole songs
Chorus:
But if we had saxophones
Big baritone cleanin up the muddy breaks
If we had saxophones
I could make that joint shimmy like a big california earthquake
Yeah if we had saxophones
Yeah, big baritone cleanin up the muddy breaks
If we had saxophones
I could get some recognition from that mobile, alabama d.j.
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Disconcerted Tenor
A tenor, all singers above
(This doesn't admit of a question),
Should keep himself quiet,
Attend to his diet,
And carefully nurse his digestion.
But when he is madly in love,
It's certain to tell on his singing -
You can't do chromatics
With proper emphatics
When anguish your bosom is wringing!
When distracted with worries in plenty,
And his pulse is a hundred and twenty,
And his fluttering bosom the slave of mistrust is,
A tenor can't do himself justice.
Now observe - (SINGS A HIGH NOTE) -
You see, I can't do myself justice!
I could sing, if my fervour were mock,
It's easy enough if you're acting,
But when one's emotion
Is born of devotion,
You mustn't be over-exacting.
One ought to be firm as a rock
To venture a shake in VIBRATO;
When fervour's expected,
Keep cool and collected,
Or never attempt AGITATO.
But, of course, when his tongue is of leather,
And his lips appear pasted together,
And his sensitive palate as dry as a crust is,
A tenor can't do himself justice.
Now observe - (SINGS A CADENCE) -
It's no use - I can't do myself justice!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Possession
Only in the letting go
Seeing a patch of sky above the trees
Letting in the flow of days clear breeze,
And with a gentle ease, find love in setting free,
Finding all in 'self', possessing
Possessing all, in setting free!
yvette m smith uk poet!
27.2.09
poem by Yvette Smith
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Brittle Bones
Though I am an old man
With my bones very brittle,
Though I am a poor old man
Worth very little,
Yet I suck at my long pipe
At peace in the sun,
I do not fret nor much regret
That my work is done.
If I were a young man
With my bones full of marrow,
Oh, if I were a bold young man
Straight as an arrow,
And if I had the same years
To live once again,
I would not change their simple range
Of laughter and pain.
If I were a young man
And young was my Lily,
A smart girl, a bold young man,
Both of us silly.
And though from time before I knew
She'd stab me with pain,
Though well I knew she'd not be true,
I'd love her again.
If I were a young man
With a brisk, healthy body,
Oh, if I were a bold young man
With love of rum toddy,
Though I knew that I was spiting
My old age with pain,
My happy lip would touch and sip
Again and again.
If I were a young man
With my bones full of marrow,
Oh, if I were a bold young man
Straight as an arrow,
I'd store up no virtue
For Heaven's distant plain,
I'd live at ease as I did please
And sin once again.
poem by Robert Graves
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