The Concert
No, I will go alone.
I will come back when it's over.
Yes, of course I love you.
No, it will not be long.
Why may you not come with me?—
You are too much my lover.
You would put yourself
Between me and song.
If I go alone,
Quiet and suavely clothed,
My body will die in its chair,
And over my head a flame,
A mind that is twice my own,
Will mark with icy mirth
The wise advance and retreat
Of armies without a country,
Storming a nameless gate,
Hurling terrible javelins down
From the shouting walls of a singing town
Where no women wait!
Armies clean of love and hate,
Marching lines of pitiless sound
Climbing hills to the sun and hurling
Golden spears to the ground!
Up the lines a silver runner
Bearing a banner whereon is scored
The milk and steel of a bloodless wound
Healed at length by the sword!
You and I have nothing to do with music.
We may not make of music a filigree frame,
Within which you and I,
Tenderly glad we came,
Sit smiling, hand in hand.
Come now, be content.
I will come back to you, I swear I will;
And you will know me still.
I shall be only a little taller
Than when I went.
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Clean Up Your Own Backyard
(words & music by b. strange - s. davis)
Back porch preacher preaching at me
Acting like he wrote the golden rules
Shaking his fist and speeching at me
Shouting from his soap box like a fool
Come sunday morning hes lying in bed
With his eye all red, with the wine in his head
Wishing he was dead when he oughta be
Heading for sunday school
Clean up your own backyard
Oh dont you hand me none of your lines
Clean up your own backyard
You tend to your business, Ill tend to mine
Drugstore cowboy criticizing
Acting like hes better than you and me
Standing on the sidewalk supervising
Telling everybody how they ought to be
Come closing time most every night
He locks up tight and out go the lights
And he ducks out of sight and he cheats on his wife
With his employee
Clean up your own backyard
Oh dont you hand me none of your lines
Clean up your own backyard
You tend to your business, Ill tend to mine
Armchair quarterbacks always moanin
Second guessing people all day long
Pushing, fooling and hanging on in
Always messing where they dont belong
When you get right down to the nitty-gritty
Isnt it a pity that in this big city
Not a one alittle bitty manll admit
He could have been a little bit wrong
Clean up your own backyard
Oh dont you hand me, dont you hand me none of your lines
Clean up your own backyard
You tend to your business, Ill tend to mine
Clean up your own backyard
You tend to your business, Ill tend to mine
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Armies in the Fire
The lamps now glitter down the street;
Faintly sound the falling feet;
And the blue even slowly falls
About the garden trees and walls.
Now in the falling of the gloom
The red fire paints the empty room:
And warmly on the roof it looks,
And flickers on the back of books.
Armies march by tower and spire
Of cities blazing, in the fire;--
Till as I gaze with staring eyes,
The armies fall, the lustre dies.
Then once again the glow returns;
Again the phantom city burns;
And down the red-hot valley, lo!
The phantom armies marching go!
Blinking embers, tell me true
Where are those armies marching to,
And what the burning city is
That crumbles in your furnaces!
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sound Of The Crowd
Put your hand in a party wave
Pass around
Make a shroud pulling combs through a backwash frame
Find the copies in a carbon mount
Pass around
Stroke a pocket with a print of a laughing sound
Get around town
Get around town
Where the people look good
Where the music is loud
Get around town
No need to stand proud
Add your voice to the sound of the crowd
The shades from a pencil peer
Pass around
A fold in an eyelid brushed with fear
The lines on a compact guide
Pass around
A hat with alignment worn insde
Get around town
Get around town
Where the people look good
Where the music is loud
Get around town
No need to stand proud
Add your voice to the sound of the crowd
Get in line now
Get in line now
Stay in time with the rhythm and rhyme
Get around town
Get around town
Where the people look good
Where the music is loud
Get around town
No need to stand proud
Add your voice to the sound of the crowd
Get around town
Get around town
Where the people look good
Where the music is loud
Get around town
No need to stand proud
Add your voice to the sound of the crowd
Get around town
Get around town
Where the people look good
Where the music is loud
Get around town
No need to stand proud
Add your voice to the sound of the crowd
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Iris
I like the way my hand looked on your head
In the prescense of my knuckles
And the beauty of this vision alone
Just like yesterday's sunset
Has been perverted by the sentimental
And mistaken for love
The felix of your truth will always break it
And the iris of your eyes will always shake it
And the armies
The armies I have created
Will always hate it
Will always bate you on
I liked the way my hand looked on your head
In the prescense of my struggle
And the beauty of this vision alone
I can't shake from my tree just yet
it's invading all my private moments
Listen to me now
The felix of your truth will always break it
And the iris of your eye will always shake it
And the armies
The armies i have created
Will always hate it
Will always bate you on
song performed by by Live
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gates Of Eden
Guy Allison, Keith Knudsen
EarthWalk Music (ASCAP) / K-KUAD Music (ASCAP)
We've been together for a long, long while
We've seen some bad and better days.
But heart and soul are meant for all time
These are the keys we can't replace.
Let's go back to Eden,
Don't make the garden wait.
At the gates of Eden,
This golden key is all it takes.
Simple things are better said in simple ways,
I'm a simple man in love with you.
These are the gates of Eden,
Take my hand we'll walk on through.
Let's go back to Eden,
Don't make the garden wait.
At the gates of Eden,
This golden key is all it takes.
Remember we're the ones who make.
You and me
This golden key that's what it takes.
There's only one.
Let's go back to Eden,
Don't make the garden wait.
At the gates of Eden,
This golden key is all it takes.
Guest Artists:
George Hawkins, Jr. - Bass
Chris Thompson - Background Vocals
song performed by by Doobie Brothers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Waltz-Quadrille
The band was playing a waltz-quadrille,
I felt as light as a wind-blown feather,
As we floated away, at the caller’s will,
Through the intricate, mazy dance together.
Like mimic armies our lines were meeting,
Slowly advancing, and then retreating,
All decked in their bright array;
And back and forth to the music’s rhyme
We moved together, and all the time
I knew you were going away.
The fold of your strong arm sent a thrill
From heart to brain as we gently glided
Like leaves on the wave of that waltz-quadrille;
Parted, met, and again divided –
You drifting one way, and I another,
Then suddenly turning and facing each other,
Then off in the blithe chasse.
Then airily back to our places swaying,
While every beat of the music seemed saying
That you were going away.
I said to my heart, ‘Let us take our fill
Of mirth, and music, and love, and laughter;
For it all must end with this waltz-quadrille,
And life will never be the same life after.
Oh that the caller might go on calling!
Oh that the music might go on falling
Like a shower of silver spray,
While we whirled on to the vast Forever,
Where no hearts break, and no ties sever,
And no one goes away!
A clamour, a crash, and the band was still,
‘Twas the end of the dream, and the end of the measure:
The last low notes of that waltz-quadrille
Seemed like a dirge o’er the death of Pleasure.
You said good-night, and the spell was over –
Too warm for a friend, and too cold for a lover –
There was nothing else to say;
But the lights looked dim, and the dancers weary,
And the music was sad and the hall was dreary,
After you went away.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Route March
All the hills and vales along
Earth is bursting into song,
And the singers are the chaps
Who are going to die perhaps.
O sing, marching men,
Till the valleys ring again.
Give your gladness to earth's keeping,
So be glad, when you are sleeping.
Cast away regret and rue,
Think what you are marching to,
Little live, great pass.
Jesus Christ and Barabbas
Were found the same day.
This died, that, went his way.
So sing with joyful breath.
For why, you are going to death.
Teeming earth will surely store
All the gladness that you pour.
Earth that never doubts nor fears
Earth that knows of death, not tears,
Earth that bore with joyful ease
Hemlock for Socrates,
Earth that blossomed and was glad
'Neath the cross that Christ had,
Shall rejoice and blossom too
When the bullet reaches you.
Wherefore, men marching
On the road to death, sing!
Pour gladness on earth's head,
So be merry, so be dead.
From the hills and valleys earth
Shouts back the sound of mirth,
Tramp of feet and lilt of song
Ringing all the road along.
All the music of their going,
Ringing swinging glad song-throwing,
Earth will echo still, when foot
Lies numb and voice mute.
On marching men, on
To the gates of death with song.
Sow your gladness for earth's reaping,
So you may be glad though sleeping.
Strew your gladness on earth's bed,
So be merry, so be dead.
poem by Charles Hamilton Sorley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All the Hills and Vales Along
All the hills and vales along
Earth is bursting into song,
And the singers are the chaps
Who are going to die perhaps.
O sing, marching men,
Till the valleys ring again.
Give your gladness to earth's keeping,
So be glad, when you are sleeping.
Cast away regret and rue,
Think what you are marching to.
Little live, great pass.
Jesus Christ and Barabbas
Were found the same day.
This died, that went his way.
So sing with joyful breath,
For why, you are going to death.
Teeming earth will surely store
All the gladness that you pour.
Earth that never doubts nor fears,
Earth that knows of death, not tears,
Earth that bore with joyful ease
Hemlock for Socrates,
Earth that blossomed and was glad
'Neath the cross that Christ had,
Shall rejoice and blossom too
When the bullet reaches you.
Wherefore, men marching
On the road to death, sing!
Pour your gladness on earth's head,
So be merry, so be dead.
From the hills and valleys earth
Shouts back the sound of mirth,
Tramp of feet and lilt of sing
Ringing all the road along.
All the music of their going,
Ringing swinging glad song-throwing,
Earth will echo still, when foot
Lies numb and voice mute.
On, marching men, on
To the gates of death with song.
Sow your gladness for earth's reaping,
So you may be glad, though sleeping.
Strew your gladness on earth's bed,
So be merry, so be dead.
poem by Charles Hamilton Sorley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Music Is My Life
MUSIC IS MY LIFE
I am just sitting here,
Making love to my guitar
Strumming out music,
My love doesn’t stray too far.
My music is my life,
And my love is a heart filled song.
As long as I’m singing,
I know there can be no wrong.
Hugs and kisses come easy,
From the strings that I caress.
There is nothing more pretty,
Than my guitar in full dress.
My music is my life,
And my love is a heart filled song.
As long as I’m singing,
I know there can be no wrong.
I am carried into ecstasy
With each note that floats out
Feel the music within me,
It’s busting its way out.
My music is my life,
And my love is a heart filled song.
As long as I’m singing,
I know there can be no wrong.
Play the music with me,
Sing and raise your voice.
You will feel the love of Music,
Your heart will have no choice.
My music is my life,
And my love is a heart filled song.
As long as I’m singing,
I know there can be no wrong.
Life cannot deny me love,
Or the music that’s inside me
The melodies are my heart and soul,
And it will always be my decree.
REB (FEB 2012) Dedicated to Twig Sullivan, because music is her life
poem by Rik Bertrand
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Music Is My Life
I am just sitting here,
Making love to my guitar
Strumming out music,
My love doesn't stray too far.
My music is my life,
And my love is a heart filled song.
As long as I'm singing,
I know there can be no wrong.
Hugs and kisses come easy,
From the strings that I caress.
There is nothing more pretty,
Than my guitar in full dress.
My music is my life,
And my love is a heart filled song.
As long as I'm singing,
I know there can be no wrong.
I am carried into ecstasy
With each note that floats out
Feel the music within me,
It's busting its way out.
My music is my life,
And my love is a heart filled song.
As long as I'm singing,
I know there can be no wrong.
Play the music with me,
Sing and raise your voice.
You will feel the love of Music,
Your heart will have no choice.
My music is my life,
And my love is a heart filled song.
As long as I'm singing,
I know there can be no wrong.
Life cannot deny me love,
Or the music that's inside me
The melodies are my heart and soul,
And it will always be my decree.
REB (FEB 2012) Dedicated to Twig Sullivan, because music is her life
poem by Rik Bertrand
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Hate Women Drivers!
I hate women drivers!
Why, can they not park?
Near the kerb?
Not anywhere
With no regards!
I hate women drivers!
Especially in the dark
They put on their blinkers
Because, they can not see.
The problem, is neither can we!
I hate women drivers!
How they love to drive fast
Only for school runs
Then they cruise all day long
I hate women drivers!
Do they believe?
That the traffic lights are stops
To make phone calls
For their daily needs
I hate women drivers!
Can they see there are lines in the road?
They signify lanes
You should only drive in one
Not in all 3!
I hate women drivers!
They stop at zebra crossings
Because they feel this is the time
To speak to their friends and catch up
What feels like an hour long!
I hate women drivers
Oh, I wish men
Will stop shouting
THIS AT ME!
poem by Sarwah OseiTutu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On The Cork Hurlers Strike
The best hurlers will not be playing for the Rebel County this year
At least not under coach Gerald McCarthy for Cork fans such sad news to hear
The Liam McCarthy Cup this year won't be coming to the hurling City by the Lee
Without Cork's best hurling only half dressed as hurling fans all would agree
Cork hurling fans not very happy to them hurling more than a game
Some blame the hurlers and others blame Gerald and others the County Board blame
Gerald has no notion of resigning and Cork's best under him will not play
And the loser is the game of hurling and that does seem a sad thing to say
Cork will have a hurling team in the League and All Ireland Championship but their best the red jersey will not wear
And for any hope of sporting success as we do know a team would need every top player
And in 2009 Cork will only make up the numbers though the game of hurling will go on
For hurling does live on in Ireland though great players to and from the game have come and gone
In 2009 Cork will not have their best team at least now it's looking that way
In a sad time for Cork and for hurling in Ireland and that seems a sad thing to say.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Old Songs, The
Music & Lyrics by: David Pomeranz
Glasses are chilled and soon
She'll be by
Hope and pray
She'll say that she's willing to give us
Another try
And if all those plans I've made
Don't melt the lady's heart
I'll put on the old 45's
And maybe the old songs
Will bring back the old times
Maybe the old lines
Will sound new
Maybe she'll lay her
Head on my shoulder
Maybe old feelings
Will come through
Maybe we'll start to cry
And wonder why
We ever walked away
Maybe the old songs
Will bring back the old times
And make her want to stay
It's been too long since I've
Seen her face light up
When I come home
It's been too many
Hours I've wasted staring
At the phone
Sweet old songs I'm counting on you
To bring her back to me
I'm tired of listening alone
Maybe the old songs
Will bring back the old times
Maybe the old lines
Will sound new
Maybe she'll lay her
Head on my shoulder
Maybe old feelings
Will come through
Maybe we'll start to cry
And wonder why
We ever walked away
Maybe the old songs
Will bring back the old times
And make her want to stay
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thank You In Advance
Excuse me, I know we just met
But may I have this dance?
Sitting here with a drink in my hand
Your presence I can't ignore
I must admit I like watching you dance
But it seems like I've seen this before
Girl, you look like my first wife
Though I've never been married before
So I kiss your hand and tell you "Thank you"
You turn and ask me what for
For our first kiss, oh, next week
For when we make love, it seems sweet (?)
For the ring you wore probably three months from now
For when you said "I do" next March
And for those beautiful children of ours
Yes, I know it might sound strange cuz we just met
But I thank you in advance
(Shawn, help me sing it)
Hi, my name is Shawn
Tell me your name
Although I know the last one
It's funny that we're shaking hands
[Wait a minute, I know this hand]
It's the same hand (I'll hold in front of a minister)
Same hand (when you're havin' my son and his sister)
I don't mean to sound so bold and forward
But I thank you in advance
For our first kiss, oh, next week
For when we make love, it seems sweet (?)
For the ring you wore probably three months from now
For when you said "I do" next March
And for those beautiful children of ours
Yes, I know it might sound strange cuz we just met
But I thank you in advance
It's like I came back in time to tell you thank you
You were as beautiful then as you are now
Look in the mirror, there is a picture
Of you and the man you love
For our first kiss, oh, next week
For when we make love, it seems sweet (?)
For the ring you wore probably three months from now
For when you said "I do" next March
And for those beautiful children of ours
Yes, I know it might sound strange cuz we just met
But I thank you in advance
For our first kiss, oh, next week
For when we make love, it seems sweet (?)
For the ring you wore probably three months from now
For when you said "I do" next March
And for those beautiful children of ours
Yes, I know it might sound strange cuz we just met
But I thank you in advance
I, I, I, I, I
I thank you in advance, ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
song performed by by Boyz II Men
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Broken Lines Do Not A World Make
LITTLE BROKEN LINES DO NOT A WORLD MAKE
Little broken lines do not a world make-
A poem without a music of its own
Is not much of a poem-
Once I had a rhythm I could hear;
I’ve lost it.
Bare lines appear,
They have no song-
I try in rereading
To feel their music,
But there is not much music in me now.
A poem at best should be a music all its own
I have no such music now-
If this is a poem, it is a lesser one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thank U In Advance
(excuse me, I know we just met
But may I have this dance? )0
Sitting here with a drink in my hand
Your presence I cant ignore
I must admit I like watching you dance
But it seems like Ive seen this before
Girl, you look like my first wife
Though Ive never been married before
So I kiss your hand and tell you thank you
You turn and ask me what for
1 - for our first kiss on next week
For when we make love in six weeks
For the ring you wore proudly three months from now
For when you said i do next march
And for those beautiful children of ours
Yes, I know it might sound strange cuz we just met
But I thank you in advance
(shawn, help me sing it)
Hi, my name is shawn
Tell me your name
Although I know the last one
Its funny that were shaking hands
[wait a minute, I know this hand]
Its the same hand (Ill hold in front of a minister)
Same hand (when youre havin my son and his sister)
I dont mean to sound so bold and forward
But I thank you in advance
Repeat 1
Its like I came back in time to tell you thank you
Youre as beautiful then as you are now
Look in the mirror, there is a picture
Of you and the man you love
Repeat 1
Repeat 1
I, i, i, i, i
I thank you in advance, ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
song performed by by Boyz II Men
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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His Footstep
To Lady Wemyss
The boy will come no more
Although I listen and long;
The sound of his foot on the floor
Was like an old song.
His foot had the music in it,
And now the music's dumb --
Like the song of the lark or linnet
Glad that Spring's come.
There's nothing stirring at all, --
'Tis quiet all by yourself, --
But a wee mouse in the wall,
The clock ticks on the shelf.
Like the song of the lark or linnet,
That's singing early and soon,
His foot had the music in it
Like an old tune.
poem by Katharine Tynan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lover Lover Lover
I asked my father,
I said, father change my name.
The one Im using now its covered up
With fear and filth and cowardice and shame.
Yes and lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover come back to me,
Yes and lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover come back to me.
He said, I locked you in this body,
I meant it as a kind of trial.
You can use it for a weapon,
Or to make some woman smile.
Yes and lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover come back to me,
Yes and lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover come back to me.
Then let me start again, I cried,
Please let me start again,
I want a face thats fair this time,
I want a spirit that is calm.
Yes and lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover come back to me,
Yes and lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover come back to me.
I never never turned aside, he said,
I never walked away.
It was you who built the temple,
It was you who covered up my face.
Yes and lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover come back to me,
Yes and lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover come back to me.
And may the spirit of this song,
May it rise up pure and free.
May it be a shield for you,
A shield against the enemy.
Yes and lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover come back to me,
Yes and lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover come back to me.
Yes and lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover come back to me,
Yes and lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover come back to me.
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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