Musical chair
Musical chair is not mine
I can not share the musical chair with others.
I never play with musical chair
I do not believe musical chair can be played.
I believe mine is mine
And yours is yours.
I can not take away your right
You can not take away mine.
The world is here, look
With a musical chair.
I am here and also you are.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Valse
How like a game of musical chairs
these fee-for-service systems
where profit is the goal, not service,
and people do not ask
'what can I do for you', but
'what is it worth to you? '
What can repair the sentiment once,
honest and pure,
lost?
How like a game of musical chairs
when bosses, cold to peoples losses
underwrite their profits with their blood,
caring only for their own and their constituents' enrichment,
and greed dazzles need
through the blandishments of advertisement
tv and the movies.
fa!
How like a game of musical chairs.
These fee-for-service systems.
Remove one chair, ok, you can still play.
Remove two, be glad it isn't you.
Take three, take four,
how, you wonder, many more
need pick up and move away.
Just sit down.
This is the way that cities drown
In lethargy and fun-
The emptier the drum
the further it resonates
still the music plays!
Outsource for cheap labor and complain of China?
fa!
But, of course,
there will always be a chair for the boss.
And a nice one.
Not very poetic?
Perhaps not. But poetry is sometimes more than boats on lakes.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Thw Musical Lady
The Musical Lady
I knew of a pavement café where tables and chairs were painted
in different colours, this to lend ambience in an otherwise dreary
street. A young lady, a student at the music conservatorium, came
here for lunch and always insisted on sitting on the same chair,
a rosa one; she was pretty in stern way, long black dress, flat shoes,
plain long hair and big glasses, waiters were happy to oblige her.
This caused jalousie amongst other chairs that wanted her to sit on
them too. In the night they ganged up on the rosa one, upended it
and scratched badly. The owner thought it was the work of vandals,
put the damage chair in the store room, but when the musical lady
came she insisted to sit on her chair damaged or not. Other seats
felt bad realizing it was not the rosa’s fault but the idiosyncrasy of
the artist, so in the night the spruced up the rosa till it looked as new.
But now the pianist didn’t want it, not the same as before, she said
and sat on a yellow chair. Feeling a miffed the gleaming new looking
seat said to itself: “No big shake she had a narrow, cold bum anyway.”
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Cogitation
if this chair does not exist
will i, this, chair, me, who asks,
if this chair, exists at all,
can i, exist, too? will i be dependent
on the thought of a chair
a thought of me that i think i
can touch, that i think thoughts
touching this thought of a chair
does the chair think about me,
i ask, looking for that therefore
beside the chair that i thought
is a chair, that i thought is I,
am, therefore, a chair, thinking
chair, on four feet?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Chair Is No Longer Just A Chair
it is your experience that
gives you more meaning to all those which
you think
have been too common and
insignificant,
perhaps
now you must have realized as you sit upon a chair
that someone used to sit there
and that someone waited for another to be with her
that on the same chair
there were some fears
and pains and even longings
and hopes
unrealized and by then
you see that chair not just a chair
you sit there
and you ask it
for this chair though muted by wood
will always have
a story to tell....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Chair Don't make the Man
People see me in this chair and whisper look at that poor man over there. They believe my life is wasted all because I’m in this chair. Well I got some to say that I want you all to hear. Just like clothes don’t really make a man neither does a chair. The chair is just what I use to get me for here to there. Just like people who walk use their legs to get them everywhere. Because besides the chair I’m just like you; I laugh, I cry and yes I have sex too. Now that you all know the next time you see me don’t whisper look at that poor man over there. In fact don’t say anything just remember the chair don’t make the man.
Midnight
It's midnight, the house silent,
in the distance a musical instrument
being played softly. I am alone.
It's as if the world has come to an end
on a low musical note
poem by David Ignatow
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To me, the musical is best when it's a musical comedy. So if you have a very, very funny show, and very good, funny songs, that's what the musical does best.
You know the first time I sat in the chair I felt anything but up, it was very emotional for me. I had a chair in my hotel room, a chair at rehearsal, and I was trying to spend as much time as I could in the chair.
quote by Gregory Hines
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Big Green Chair
Look over there. See the big green chair. Its my favorite place, the chair over there.
I sit there quite often thinking of this and sometimes that. Sometimes when I sit there I wear a hat. Pink of course, nothing else would do. I even have pink shoe, the other one blue.
When I'm sleeply sometimes I crawl up in the big green chair. It smells of dad, his name is brad. But only mom call him brad, to me he's dad.
But my favorite thing about the big green chair is when dad calls my name,
Lainey, my dear, come and sit with me here in my chair, my big green chair.
poem by Brad Milner
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The Arrow The Chair And The Falling Star
the chair is silent
it has feet but it does not leave
it screeches sometimes
because you are heavy
with your load (this burden
this baggage of the
soul)
the chair faces the sea
because your finger points to
a falling star
and the chair like you
makes a wish
like you
it wishes that the moon
may soon have lips
that you can
kiss throughout the night
unlike you
the chair never dreams of arms.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I'm doing a play, a musical. The musical follows the Mamma Mia concept. It's my first LA theater project.
quote by Tatyana Ali
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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But I'm not adverse to the idea of Torch Song as a musical. It would just be different. Because the play will always be there exactly as it was, and in a musical you could tell a lot of the story through songs.
quote by Harvey Fierstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Chair
Grandma’s chair is rockin’, but she ain’t sittin’ there,
so who’s that sittin’ in grandma’s favourite chair?
And whose is that shadow standing by the wall?
Could it be our grandma..? ‘No, not at all.’
I’ve no idea whose shadow that could be,
it’s certainly not mine and you’re behind me.
Who is that sittin’ where grandma sat each night?
and could it be the shadow is a trick of the light?
Could it be our granddad standing by the wall?
‘No, it’s not granddad, he wasn’t that tall.
The chair’s still rockin’, but the shadow has gone.
The chair has stopped; they’ve both moved on.’
poem by Orlando Belo
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We decided we didn't want to do a musical for TV because the idea of writing a musical that would be seen on television once seems insane.
quote by Neil Tennant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the theater, it's about taking time in a musical segment, a pause in a musical way and then moving on.
quote by Marcia Gay Harden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I don't just come from a musical family, but from a musical community.
quote by Lesley Garrett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Red Chair Fade Away
Red chair fade away
bring back memories
Think of something nice
Fragrant lemon trees
I can feel the speaking sky
I don't want to know
It's filling up the air
Grandpa's fairy tale
Red chair round the fire
Rainbows all the time
We're all going higher
I can feel the speaking sky
I don't want to know
It's filling up the air
Red chair fade away
Red chair fade away
Red chair fade away
Red chair fade away
Red chair fade away
Bring back memories
Think of something nice
Fragrant lemon trees
I can feel the speaking sky
I don't want to know
It's filling up the air
Red chair fade away....
Red chair fade away....
song performed by by Bee Gees from Bee Gees 1st
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Look at us...
These signs of silence,
Are the reasons of urn absence.....
Yearning for your embrace,
And feel your sweet grace,
Resting by the fireplace..........
Look at us, where we are,
So grown, and bizarre…
Look at us, what we are,
Like the strings of a musical guitar...
We’re in love, we're determined,
to our love, life and so defined...
Sun is shining in the sky,
You're arms, that's where I’m gon' die...
Our love is so clean,
Unusual, nobody has seen,
I’m gon'nestle it & make it endlessly green....
Look at us, where we are,
So grown, and bizarre…
Look at us, what we are,
Like the strings of a musical guitar...
We’re in love, we're determined,
to our love, life and so defined...
You belong to me,
No matter where, we'll be...
You are always mine,
My love, my sunshine.....
Look at us, where we are,
So grown, and bizarre…
Look at us, what we are,
Like the strings of a musical guitar...
We’re in love, we're determined,
to our love, life and so defined...
poem by Neha Aradhye
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That Music Extraordinaire, Mozart
That music extraordinaire, Mozart,
Who from his tender days, played with desire
Musical from the bottom of his heart.
Sweet notes from his music he did impart
That captivated audience to admire
That music extraordinaire, Mozart,
Whose tones can set an emotion to start
With a charm to have their hearts raised on fire
Musical from the bottom of his heart.
With pleasant pace from his great style of art
Is such that shows he was such a live wire,
That music extraordinaire, Mozart,
Whose harmony when heard is nice and smart
Can cheerfully raise hearts to go much higher
Musical from the bottom of his heart.
Joy occurs from such wonders that does chart
In tremendous ways that truly inspire.
That music extraordinaire, Mozart,
Musical from the bottom of his heart.
poem by Obinna Kenechukwu Eruchie
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I think I was first awakened to musical exploration by Dizzy Gillespie and Bird. It was through their work that I began to learn about musical structures and the more theoretical aspects of music.
quote by John Coltrane
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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