Today, with a recording, he can hear the thing enough times until he really gets acquainted with the language, and then he can begin to make an estimate of the intrinsic, aesthetic value of that piece of music.
quote by Leo Ornstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
There is no such thing as an ugly language. Today I hear every language as if it were the only one, and when I hear of one that is dying, it overwhelms me as though it were the death of the earth.
quote by Elias Canetti
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paper Lies
(music: marillion lyrics: steve hogarth & john helmer)
When you look into the mirror
Do you see a face you hardly recognise
If you look into the sun too long
Do the things you see begin to burn your eyes
Paper lies
Just to express what hes thinking
Must a man take all the mail will bring?
Are we living only for today
Its a sign of the times ... we believe anything ... and nothing
Paper lies
When you kill the truth
You can make a killing
You might just make losing look like winning
You came to tell the people whats goin on
But nobody knows whose side youre on
Seems like youre sailin pretty close to the wind again
Paper lies
You have already won a prize!
I know something that you dont know
Something that you ought to know
Its burning a hole in my pocket book
Listen ... do you want to know a secret?
We can print our own money here
If you let us do a piece on you
We can take you to pieces
When you look into the money do you see a face you hardly recognise?
When you get behind the news of the world do the things you find begin to bend your mind?
Paper lies
Why dont ya let us take a piece outta you?
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
song performed by by Veruca Salt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Peace; A Piece
there's a peace kept gently cupped in my hands
a tiny, living, breathing peace
a solitary, intrinsic peace
kept alive by my heartbeat and my hope
a piece of an as-of-yet untold tomorrow
a piece of sunshine and unfulfilled justice
that every man, woman, and child
holds cradled in their hands
a piece of a worldly, blood-weary peace
poem by Gina Prettybrowneyes
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The thing is that I have a really intense, almost compulsive need to record. But it doesn't end there, because what I record is somehow transformed into a creative thing. There is a continuity. Recording is the beginning of a conceptual production. I am somehow collapsing the two - recording and producing - into a single event.
quote by Rem Koolhaas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mr Disco
How can I ever forget you
You dont know just what Ive been through
The holiday we spent together
Lives with me now and forever
I tried but I cant find you
Tell me now what do I do
I tried but I cant find you
Tell me now what do I do
I cant find my piece of mind
Because I need you with me all of the time
I used to think about you night and day
I used to feel what language cannot say
Oh I cant find you
No I cant find my piece of mind without you
Maybe youd write me a letter
And tell me why I never met you
Our rendezvous just ended in sorrow
Without you theres no tomorrow
I tried but I cant find you
Tell me now what do I do
I tried but I cant find you
Tell me now what do I do
I cant find my piece of mind
Because I need you with me all of the time
I used to think about you night and day
I didnt care what other people would say
Oh I cant find you
No I cant find my piece of mind without you
I cant find my piece of mind
Because I need you with me all of the time
I used to think about you night and day
I used to feel what language cannot say
Oh I cant find you
No I cant find my piece of mind without you
Ibiza, majorca, and benidorm too
Ive searched all these places but never found you
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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[ Untitled]
What do you think--what do you make out of that recording?
I dont know, gloria, I just--
Some kind of singing. they sound like all kinds of people, right?
Yeah.
And then it says another child is born in india every time you call this number, right?
Yeah, right.
Does that make any sense to you?
No, it doesnt make no sense to me.
And the guy that spoke--i dont know who he is.
Yeah.
But that--it doesnt sound like no answering machine, right?
No, it aint an answering machine because theyre not saying anything, theyre just--
But what does he get--how does he make money on this? whatever hes advertising in the paper, thats the part that dont make no sense.
Oh, hes advertising this in the paper you saw it.
In the village voice, yeah. they got--thats where the kiss clinic, but they give you another number if you wanna join it. and I got intellectuals meet with other intellectuals.
Yeah.
Speak another language.
Yeah. oh.
They meet at la mai--la maisonette restaurant. they give you the price. then they give you another number to call if youre interested. this guy, all you get is this here recording, but I dont
Ow he makes money.
Yeah, yeah.
You know what Im saying? its just--they got the craziest things in that paper.
Yeah.
They come over with all--they got the craziest things. but this one here-- there must be giants, its called. and it says, call machine, and they got the phone number.
Yeah.
But what kind of money does he make? it dont make no sense. well, he dont make any money, right?
No.
But, then--then hes a nut, right? do you see--do you see any sense to that? there may be giants? that re--that recording I have on. the new one. did you hear it? I changed it. I too
The intellectuals. I put on there may be giants.
What?
Whos they may be giants?
What are you talking about?
Thats whats on my--the phone, there may be--argh, well I cant explain it. cause I dont know what it is. look in the paper, dont blame me if the guys a nut.
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Out On The Weekend
Think Ill pack it in and buy a pick-up
Take it down to l.a.
Find a place to call my own and try to fix up.
Start a brand new day.
The woman Im thinking of, she loved me all up
But Im so down today
Shes so fine, shes in my mind.
I hear her callin.
See the lonely boy, out on the weekend
Trying to make it pay.
Cant relate to joy, he tries to speak and
Cant begin to say.
She got pictures on the wall, they make me look up
From her big brass bed.
Now Im running down the road trying to stay up
Somewhere in her head.
The woman Im thinking of, she loved me all up
But Im so down today
Shes so fine shes in my mind.
I hear her callin.
See the lonely boy, out on the weekend
Trying to make it pay.
Cant relate to joy, he tries to speak and
Cant begin to say.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The History of Now
The recording of culture is history;
but our culture is more than that.
It's the world of human action,
and the myths we make of the fact.
The recording of history is culture,
but our history is more than that.
It informs a hidden agenda.
Unconscious of motive we act.
It's the history of now, the history of now.
It's only the present that exists as endowed.
It's the history of now. The moment - KAPOW!
That knocks you right over and muddies your brow.
Through the prism of language, we know what we know.
We carry our baggage and stories of woe.
Victor and vanquished pride cannot budge,
the dead weight of hatred and ancestral grudge.
We fight our good fights with our hand on our heart;
the music is swelling as loved ones depart.
As sheep to the slaughter, the script cannot chart,
a course more ignoble: the propagandist's art.
The recording of history is culture,
but our culture is more than that.
More than the great individuals,
the scholars so love in their tracts.
The recording of culture is history;
but our history is more than that.
Not simple dates or statistics,
the full horror and gore still attracts.
It's the history of now, the history of now.
A strange contradiction that makes sense somehow.
It's the history of now, a mystery and shroud.
The past and the future: best fiction allowed.
poem by David SmithWhite
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Out On The Weekend
Think Ill pack it in and buy a pick-up
Take it down to l.a.
Find a place to call my own and try to fix up
Start a brand new day
The woman Im thinking of - she loved me all up
But Im so down today
Shes so fine shes in my mind
I hear her callin
See the lonely boy, out on the weekend
Trying to make it stay
Cant relate to joy, he tries to speak and
Cant begin to say
She got pictures on the wall
That make me look up
From her big brass bed
Now Im running down the road trying to stay up
Somewhere in her head
The woman Im thinking of - she loved me all up
But Im so down today
Shes so fine shes in my mind
I hear her callin
See the lonely boy, out on the weekend
Trying to make it pay
Cant relate to joy, he tries to speak and
Cant begin to say
song performed by by Fury In The Slaughterhouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Piece of This
A son trying to help his mother who’s 83 in to the tub to bathe hears words that cut him to his very soul, “You must want a piece of this.” Now, as he hold back his hurt and wipe the spit of his face that his mother had spat on him thoughts begin to race through his mind. How could the woman who gave birth to me think that I would want to do that to her? She comforted me when I was afraid at night. She fed me when I hungry. Yes she was the first woman I loved just like any son would love his mother. But no I have no Oedipus complex. So no I don’t want a piece of that. Wow, this woman is the Grandmother to my son I wonder if I was not here and he was would she say to him “You must want a piece of this.” I know Alzheimer has taken over her mind and she is not the loving mother I once knew but it stills hurts to hear her say, “You must want a piece of this.”
There Are Times When Only By Hearing The Poems Of Others
THERE ARE TIMES WHEN ONLY BY HEARING THE POEMS OF OTHERS
There are times when only by hearing the poems of others,
Can one begin to write one’s own-
One needs the rhythm of poetry
And once one has it
One can perhaps begin.
This morning I have not listened to anyone else-
And I write these lines
Into the bare space of the page
With a tremor of doubt
At whether they are ‘poetry’.
I hear myself as a poem
But what others hear
May be something else entirely-
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Language Of Love
I want your flesh and blood
And to feel your heart pumping hard
I want to tell my story to your eyes
I want to watch you react
To me baby
Maybe Im dreaming
I got to do something
We may be on the same planet
Living in different worlds
Do you speak the language of love
Living in the touch of your fingers
Are you the passionate type
Is this a natural thing
Do you speak the language of love
Second hand emotional trigger
In the devils playground
Hear the church bells ring
I speak the language of love
I speak the language of love
Shes my great obsession
And the girl likes me too
I think she has the wrong impression
She thinks I want to be friends
Maybe Im dreaming
I better do something
We might be on the same planet
But talk different tongues
Do you speak the language of love
Living in the touch of your fingers
Are you the passionate type
Is this a natural thing
Do you speak the language of love
Second hand emotional trigger
In the devils playground
Hear the church bells ring
I speak the language of love
I speak the language of love
She thinks I want to be friends
Maybe Im dreaming
I better do something
We may be on the same planet
Living in different worlds
I speak the language of love
I speak the language of love
Do you speak the language of love
Living in the touch of your fingers
Are you the passionate type
Is this a natural thing
Do you speak the language of love
Second hand emotional trigger
In the devils playground
Hear the church bells ring
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Language Of Love
I want your flesh and blood
And to feel your heart pumping hard
I want to tell my story to your eyes
I want to watch you react
To me baby
Maybe I'm dreaming
I got to do something
We may be on the same planet
Living in different worlds
Do you speak the language of love
Living in the touch of your fingers
Are you the passionate type
Is this a natural thing
Do you speak the language of love
Second hand emotional trigger
In the devil's playground
Hear the church bells ring
I speak the language of love
I speak the language of love
She's my great obsession
And the girl likes me too
I think she has the wrong impression
She thinks I want to be friends
Maybe I'm dreaming
I better do something
We might be on the same planet
But talk different tongues
Do you speak the language of love
Living in the touch of your fingers
Are you the passionate type
Is this a natural thing
Do you speak the language of love
Second hand emotional trigger
In the devil's playground
Hear the church bells ring
I speak the language of love
I speak the language of love
She thinks I want to be friends
Maybe I'm dreaming
I better do something
We may be on the same planet
Living in different worlds
I speak the language of love
I speak the language of love
Do you speak the language of love
Living in the touch of your fingers
Are you the passionate type
Is this a natural thing
Do you speak the language of love
Second hand emotional trigger
In the devil's playground
Hear the church bells ring
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think the intelligent thing about it is that you have to carefully listen to it all to grasp it, and because I'm not in every scene - colossal disappointment to everybody that it may be - I'm not getting the full picture here today while recording it.
quote by Paul Darrow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Common Language
Common Language
The common language of Earth and galaxies everywhere,
is Soul Language, which sentient beings all do share.
Share their thoughts about conflict and strife,
bring back “peace” and end killing of life.
Life of course cannot die,
but can be needs to be respected, cherished and not denied.
Like Peter of Galilee,
was speaking Soul Language to 1,000 people times 3.
They all knew what he had said,
Pilgrims followed the teachings in which they were lead,
and became followers of The Way,
teachings for daily living of Jesus on that Pentecost Sunday.
Now nations of Earth can speak from a common ground,
hear the purist voice in the purist form without a sound.
Soul language has the presence of the divine,
it’s wisdom is used in Soul Language all the time.
Soul language can heal the conflict of the nations
Of Earth, make had a new world view in it’s rebirth.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on August 19,2011
www.purplepoems.com www.christinasunrise.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sad picture piece
The picture we took together
And put together piece by piece
All of us as a Group
With smiles on our faces we
Were laughing together
Creating what we thought
Was a big happy picture
Now in the future we look
At that big picture piece
And see a sad picture piece
Comparing it to today, most of us…
Dead, war reached us.
What use to be happy picture piece.
Turned to what it really was.
A sad picture piece we put together
As a Group.
Smiling, laughing, naive
Naïve of what the future
Could bring
Friends dying, revealing what they
Really did with there life
In the past, happy as can be
Together wishing for more
Seeing that picture now
Remembering all the thing’s I had
In the past, also with things I lost
Now you see a picture with lies
But also the truth
Both makes the group shot of friends
We put together
A big, but small sad picture piece.
poem by Marcellus Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Auction
Buy a piece of God today.
He's going for half price.
Buy a piece of God today.
Save your soul,
Buy some salvation,
Save your soul from Damnation.
The man on the street corner
Has all the answers.
He's selling the Divine
From the back of a truck.
'Too hot to handle, too cold to hold,
Come on baby unburden your soul.'
It's raining.
Mud is splashing.
The pavement where the man stands,
Is dry.
Come save yourself.
It's all, all right.
God is being sold today.
Come early and get a good price
From the market.
Remember,
We've got what you need.
Cloth, cotton candy, vegetables,
And furniture.
Manure for your flower beds.
It's all right in the next room.
God is being sold today.
He's going for half price.
Going Once
Going Twice
Going three times!
GONE.
poem by Rabia Minhas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You're A Part Of Me
Make me feel the way you used to
when you loved me so.
Take me back to all those times
you hated to see me go.
Those are the memories I live for now.
'Can't get them out of my mind.
The more I try to forget them,
the more they're there I find.
Because you are a part of me,
you're the part that no one else can be.
For they could never make me
feel like this or make me miss
every little thing you are to me.
Let me hear your voice so low
whispering in my ear.
Tell me that your love's still there,
words I still can hear.
I remember every word you said.
I remember each sweet sound.
They never seem to leave me.
They've always stayed around.
Because you are a part of me,
you're the part that no one else can be.
For they could never make me
feel like this or make me miss
every little thing you are to me.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Common Language
Common Language
The common language of Earth and galaxies everywhere,
is Soul Language, which sentient beings all do share.
Share their thoughts about conflict and strife,
bring back “peace” and end killing of life.
Life of course cannot die,
but can be needs to be respected, cherished and not denied.
Like Peter of Galilee,
was speaking Soul Language to 1,000 people times 3.
They all knew what he had said,
Pilgrims followed the teachings in which they were lead,
and became followers of The Way,
teachings for daily living of Jesus on that Pentecost Sunday.
Now nations of Earth can speak from a common ground,
hear the purist voice in the purist form without a sound.
Soul language has the presence of the divine,
it’s wisdom is used in Soul Language all the time.
Soul language can heal the conflict of the nations
Of Earth, make had a new world view in it’s rebirth.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on August 19,2011
www.christinasunrise.com www.purplepoems.com
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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