So Satisfying
The musician struggles with a tune all night
and tries to keep it near.
Sometimes it slips right through the ear.
At times it's gone I fear.
A cursed blankness creates a loss
and in the morn you sigh.
'Should the theme have ended low
or have taken the notes up high?
That tune is gone but the quest goes on
and the music comes alive.
A theme is finally completed
and so you let it survive.
Over and over it plays in the head
and will not be subdued.
To the musician that wrestled with the notes
the completion is just like food.
So satisfying.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Related quotes
Victor Should Have Been A Jazz Musician
I went to a concert, to see nina, simone,
The concert was over, there was still a band playing, the rap up,
The booguh played with his hands, I close my eyes, and look at him,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
I said to myself, victor should have been a jazz musician,
I looked at his face, and I saw victor, looked at his smile, and I saw victor,
I looked at his hair, and thought,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
And the people dancing on the floor, dancing on the floor, were so high,
You should have seen victor smile, you should have seen victor smile,
As they danced all the while all around on the floor, and he laughed,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
Oh, victor should have been a jazz musician,
He was playing so nice, the jazz musician,
Ah, ah,
Hes living in a fast beat, in a city thats hot,
Telling all the latinos and puerto ricans, victor seems happy, but he doesnt even know himself, hes gotta look inside to know his first love,
Victor was a jazz musician, he was playing so nice, victor was a jazz musician, (? ) victor was a jazz musician,
Victor loves his music, he loves his music, somewhere, he plays his music, somewhere,
Victor is a jazz musician,
Jazz.
song performed by by Grace Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We survive not on any other resources, but on the expressed taste for music
Marriage getting solemnized
All in appropriate attires
Greetings
Friends in great excitement
Relatives exchanging welfare
And development or otherwise in
Respective families
Photographers, video-graphers
Busy and directing targets for proper posing
Me, alone, present at the request of the
Bridegroom's father
Who, at a distance, was busy
With his traditional rituals
Just fifteen minutes before
He only received me with all enthusiasm
And made have a sumptuous breakfast
I was seated in a select location
With enough air circulation
And was watching everything going on
I was forced into listening to
The instrumental music played live
The traditional manually air-blown instrument
Creates strong sounds of music
Masking all other sounds
And a music-drawn mind
Will not miss to make out the notes being played
Me, having a taste of music,
Was naturally drawn to that
And I was enjoying the same
Failing to note the happenings around
But the musician gives a break and
Allows his percussionist comes out
With a speedy beat to mark the completion of
A particular special traditional event
This helped me to assess the standing of the celebration
Marriage got solemnized
I approached the musician
And told him about those notes
Which I enjoyed very much
And thanked him for a nice presentation
I must indeed thank you,
He said, as
No one really takes note of us, the musicians
At these functions
I only wish your taste for music stay for ever
And let that be made known
We survive not on any other resources
But on the expressed taste for music
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Perplexed Music
EXPERIENCE, like a pale musician, holds
A dulcimer of patience in his hand,
Whence harmonies, we cannot understand,
Of God; will in his worlds, the strain unfolds
In sad-perplexed minors: deathly colds
Fall on us while we hear, and countermand
Our sanguine heart back from the fancyland
With nightingales in visionary wolds.
We murmur ' Where is any certain tune
Or measured music in such notes as these ? '
But angels, leaning from the golden seat,
Are not so minded their fine ear hath won
The issue of completed cadences,
And, smiling down the stars, they whisper--
SWEET.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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For Shrill The Piper Plays His Tune
When thoughts are idle wanderings
Words tumbled round and round
When feelings they turn inwardly
Still I hear the piper's sound.
When happiness is broken
And the Kings and Queens are gone
The piper's tune keeps playing
And I hear his victory song.
For even when awoken
From the sleepiness of time
There's a distant music playing
Heard clear within my mind
For shrill the piper plays his tune
That beckons every day
And when his tune is full played out
He carries us away.
No-one has seen this piper man
And no-one has seen him play
But we all can hear his mournfulness
And fear for what he'll say
No folds of fathered cornfields
And no breaking of the bread
The piper's tune keeps playing
With his words as yet unsaid.
For shrill the piper plays his tune
That beckons every day
And when his tune is full played out
He carries us away.
We can all hear if we but try
The piper's song so sweet
The musings and meanderings
Of souls lost whole complete
No piper plays before we're born
Before we touch the earth
The piper's tunes they all begin
From the moment of our birth.
For shrill the piper plays his tune
Like happiness disease'd
And all the notes that he plays out
Are our moments ill at ease.
Not one of us pays him to play
Nor gives him any score
For every note that he blows out
Is fully paid before
We entertain our wanderings
And confusion in the mind
For the piper's very soul turns out
To be both yours and mine.
For shrill the piper plays his tune
That beckons every day
And when his tune is full played out
He carries us away.
poem by David Keig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Music is emotional, and you may catch a musician in a very unemotional mood or you may not be in the same frame of mind as the musician. So a critic will often say a musician is slipping.
quote by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Well I'm a third-generation musician. My Grandfather's a musician and my father and mother were both musicians and so I'm a musician. It was just natural that I should be a musician 'cause I was born into the family.
quote by Sam Rivers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Piper (#2)
When I'm confused and wandering
On a journey with no end
My feelings they turn in on me
Uncertain who's my friend
It's then the piper plays his tune
That beckons every day
And when his tuned is full played out
He carries us away.
We can all hear if we but try
The pipers song so sweet
The musings and meanderings
Of souls lost whole comlete
No piper plays before we are born
Before we touch this earth
The pipers tunes they all begin
From the moment of our birth.
For shrill the piper plays his tune
Like happiness diseased
And all the notes that he plays out
Are our moments ill at ease
No-one it seems pays him to pay
Nor gives him any score
For every note that he blows out
Is paid for by that war
The one that's fought in solitude
And in that loneliness we find
That the pipers very soul turns out
To be both yours and mine.
For shrill the piper plays his tune
That beckons every day
And when his tune is full played out
He carries us away.
poem by David Keig
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Studio Musician
I am a studio musician
We've never met
But you know me well
I am the English horn
Who plays the poignant counter-nine
Upon the song you heard
While making love in some hotel
I am a part of you
I've never tried for fame
You'll never know my name
I am the strings that enter softly
Or three guitars that glitter gold
I am the thousand trumpet lines
That were an afterthought
Intended eyes,
the way to get a dying record sold
I never ride the road
I never play around
I played what they set down
I'm a working musician
living from week to week
I'm the voice through each empty men
tried to speak
A studio musician
Blowin' the chance I see
And when the woodwind coushin rises
I start to dream
With the low brass bed
But I awake the horns
The drummer calls to me
We're up the letter D
I'm a man of the moment
pop is my stock n' trade
Singles, jingles and demos
conventently made
A studio musician
Whose music will die unplayed
A studio musician
Whose music could have died unplayed
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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mozart's piano concerto 26 in D
what you do not know is that when i write a poem
i have mozart's piano music behind my mind
for instance take this one,
what is the plan? what is the theme of this one?
i am focused on the notes of beethoven
running wildly on the screen
of this computer
which of course, you may conclude, like an ordinary mortal,
that these notes somehow cannot be seen
running and running as they seem to be
for they are just in the imagination of my mind
like this poem
what do you think is this all about?
is this going to be about something
as you
and all of you would like to have,
a poem in utility like your car that finds significance only
for as long as it starts to run
like your tissue that you take without so much fuss
when you sneeze and you need it badly to cover your mouth?
this poem is not about it
it is simply a musical piece that plays itself
stays in the middle of your thoughts
fertilizes your imagination
and yet fruitlessly, it merely passes in your mind
and then stops
and then you say, it is not like my car, not like my tissue
just this one: nothing at all for use, but for time to let it pass itself,
to survive the stagnancy of your hours
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unforgettable In Your Ear
There are notes in music
that take you high.
And notes that take you low.
When you listen to the notes of music
you never know where you'll go.
Within one song the notes you hear
affect how you will feel.
A plaintive melody might make you sad
or remind you of your pain.
But all of that can change in a minute
as you feel your emotions drain.
Uplifting notes can bring to you
a few moments of ecstatic peace.
Each inspiring strain can take you where
you are able to release
whatever it was that was troubling you,
erase it for a minute or two.
These notes are magic and so is life.
They're there and then they're not.
They're a gift to you from composers
that plant a forget-me-not.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Minor Bird
i tune up my brain
each morn
in the chirps of birds
filling out blanks
as to what they are saying
a prayer?
reliving
yesterday's adventures?
the spot where they had hit gold
with worms?
from (or to) my slumberland
come poems
haikus, senryus
as i count syllables
each bird
tries out in its song
far and near
in so many ways
they chirp
plain notes,
broken notes
syncopated notes
improvised gems
some so skillful
i think
they are trumpeting
their way
up the evolution chain
to become finer
creatures than homo sapiens
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Alankar (Decor) -6
I Want To Sing A Song
I want to sing a song
For long my wish on skies..
So high so far so sweet
So sweet my song so makes
And takes on notes me soar
Me soar to moon and stars
To stars and moon my notes
Happy going going
Going godly tuning
Tuning moving scaling
Scaling music tonic
Tonic songful soulful
Soulful spaceward tuneful
Harken, follow would you..
You sing you sing a song
A song so strong to gong
To gong in tune with mine
So mine and yours to sing
To sing the moon and stars
The stars and moon in tune
In tune with us so high
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Rubber Band
Rubber band
Theres a rubber band that plays tunes out of tune
In the library garden sunday afternoon
While a little chappie waves a golden wand
Rubber band
In 1910 I was so handsome and so strong
My moustache was stiffly waxed and one foot long
And I loved a girl while you played teatime tunes
Dear rubber band, youre playing my tune out of tune
Oh
Rubber band
Wont you play a haunting theme again to me
While I eat my scones and drink my cup of tea
The sun is warm but its a lonely afternoon
Oh, play that theme
Rubber band
How I wish that I could join your rubber band
We could play in lively parks throughout the land
And one sunday afternoon, Id find my love
Rubber band,
In the 14-18 war I went to sea
Thought my sunday love was waiting home for me
And now shes married to the leader of the band, oh
Oh yeah... I hope you break your baton
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Music
The neighbour sits in his window and plays the flute.
From my bed I can hear him,
And the round notes flutter and tap about the room,
And hit against each other,
Blurring to unexpected chords.
It is very beautiful,
With the little flute-notes all about me,
In the darkness.
In the daytime,
The neighbour eats bread and onions with one hand
And copies music with the other.
He is fat and has a bald head,
So I do not look at him,
But run quickly past his window.
There is always the sky to look at,
Or the water in the well!
But when night comes and he plays his flute,
I think of him as a young man,
With gold seals hanging from his watch,
And a blue coat with silver buttons.
As I lie in my bed
The flute-notes push against my ears and lips,
And I go to sleep, dreaming.
poem by Amy Lowell
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Love Is Easy
You're the lyrics to all my songs
The lone muse to all my poems
Inspiration in sweet conversation
Sedation in my incarceration
Locked away for life
Within the steel doors of your heart
Straight to hard time
Only to be freed when you start
Looking elsewhere
Don't search any longer
If you need help I'm there
Our bonds will grow stronger
The note to every tune that move
Within my blood keeping me alive
The sound of howls at the moon
That only lives through sun light
One eye, to catch me
Two times, you called me
Third time, I called back
Forever, we'll last
No longer inside looking out
No longer outside looking in
I'm in the center looking around
The new world coming in
This world order of you and I
Can't leave at anytime
Because we believe in this time
We believe in this time
The beats are never easy
The instrumentals so hard to produce
But you are the words from the heart
The lyric that rides the notes to every tune
Playing within me
Theme song to my city
Love with you is easy
Altitude is increasing
Inspiration your name
Inspiration your name
poem by Gabriel Rodriguez
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First Encounter - Kitaro
Kitaro
more mystical than him
his music
Kitaro just another
musician working
for survival
Kitaro just another
musician who enlightens us
with his specialities
Several years back Kitaro came to give a concert at the Genting Highlands. He came across as just another musician, working for his survival. A lot of hypes have been written about the mystic way of life he lives but that did not come across to me. Yes, his hair was long but what I perceived was a man working for his survival. Tagging along was his musician wife who worked in the same band as Kitaro.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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These Tunes
the calming music makes me feel sleepy wanting to dream
i sit and type away looking at these messages pop up my thoughts are
wondering asking what is right and what is wrong
all i can do is listen to this song the anger plays on my thoughts
the quite noise that plays over and over keeps
me sober I'm trying to let go the anger is subsiding the music is blinding
blinding my thoughts maybe i can sleep
my thoughts still speak of a tune
music blocking the sounds of anger in my head
I'm going to lay down in my bed
looking for a tune that is calming to my head
sweet dreams its all in my head
Trippy: ]
poem by Preston Trip
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I think my playing has been orchestral throughout the years, and this is another way of expressing that. But I primarily see it as the ultimate accomplishment of a musician. Composing makes me feel like I've finally gotten all the way up the ladder as a musician.
quote by Tony Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Feed the musician, and he's out of tune.
quote by George Crabbe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He has a method that likens the musician to an athlete, so I do physical exercises designed to keep a musician in shape in order to perform the function, which is to play music.
quote by Herb Alpert
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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