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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Musical Chairs
People who accuse others of lieing,
When their entire lives have been based upon...
Well,
Delusional comforts!
And other conveniences to keep truth,
A distant entity.
Are reasons why those in most communities,
Have difficulty achieving unity.
Honesty is treated,
As if everyone is attending a masquerade party.
And trading masks as if a game of musical chairs,
Is being played.
And those chairs...
Instead of a subtraction done?
When the music stops?
They are added to accomodate those joining the charade.
And that's how that game is played today.
With many folks getting tired of this,
To leave the party and their costumes behind!
They prepare for new days to approach.
Knowing they have to come!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
Library
Drowsing on the chair at six in the evening,
I sat in the library.
Attendant came to put the lights on.
Some chairs after days work were lucky to be empty,
While some were occupied.
I felt the chair feel uneasy.
Uneasiness passed on to the scholars
They moved here and there.
The chair cried in pain.
No one could hear, but I could feel
White dove the chairs messanger came
It shouted, "Let them rest".
Because what they were pursuing was not wisdom but knowledge
There dull minds were unaware
The dove went, I went too, but the chairs suffered there.
poem by Sanjay Mehta
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lip Service
Lip service
By: jimmy buffett, michael utley
1981
For anyone who loves creole cookin and new orleans music
Talk-a, talk-a, talk until your jaws turn blue
But you never really tell me what youre gonna do
Seem to keep it all locked up inside
I cant help but start to thinkin
Youve got somethin to hide
Why the pain
Whats your game
Youre drivin this boy insane
Oooh what a voodoo, nobody can do like you do
Your bitchin and your cryin finally got to me
So I thought Id take you baby on a shoppin spree
You bought a space age watch and an antique hat
Hell now its digital this and digital that
What a pain
Silly games
Still drivin your man insane
Oooh what a voodoo, nobody can do like you do
Chorus:
Oh darlin oh darlin
All I ever get is lip service from you
Oh darlin oh darlin, Im through
cause all I ever get is lip service from you
(instrumental)
So listen to me baby
You got to change your ways
Or Im off to pascagoula in a few more days
Ill leave you and your poodle and all the mess he makes
Find some other fool to man your shovel and your rake
No more pain
End of game
Youre drivin yourself insane
Ooh what a voodoo, nobody can do like you do
Chorus:
Oh darlin oh darlin
All I ever get is lip service from you
Oh darlin oh darlin, Im through
cause all I ever get is lip service from you
Lip service from you (lip service)
Lip service from you-hoo
Lip service from you (lip service)
Lip service from you-hoo
Lip service from you (lip service)
Lip service from you-hoo
- notes:
Lead guitar: josh leo
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
There's always something special when the service academies play each other that's not in any other game. This is not a regular game, and everyone involved knows that.
quote by Roger Staubach
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Taming The Shrew!
You can even move a mountain by faith, they say;
You can melt even a mountain by poetry, I say!
You can crack even a hard nut by poetry, know you!
Who cannot be moved by music in the world?
Music makes even a poisonous snake dance to its tune!
Music has the power to tame or drive away wild animals.
Poetry is musical words created by poet’s magic power;
Man being a higher being is tamed by musical poetry.
Poetry has the power to absorb, tame and inspire many!
Poetry consoles as music, art and Nature worn out souls
As poetry is the best and final resort for the hopeless here
For, it’s like God’s power that can turn hopeless into hopeful!
Poetry, the source of music and song, is the first and last
That tames the shrew and turns a dolt into a daunting don!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poetry Is Not Just A Game We Play With Words
POETRY IS NOT JUST A GAME WE PLAY WITH WORDS
Poetry is not just a game we play with words-
There is Beauty-
And there is Meaning-
And there is something beyond
What we have heard before
Music also-
Poetry is not given to final definition
Altered as it is and augmented
by every true new voice -
But then too
Without that play of words
How poetic can the poetry be?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Service
Service is rendering assistance,
To persons nigh and in a distance.
Service should be in consistence,
And ever in abiding persistence
For peoples vital subsistence,
And for our peaceful co-existence.
Service constitutes us to be dynamic,
It cleanses the mind, and we are not sick.
Service entails ego annihilation,
And our materialism is in destruction.
Service makes us to give others a benefit,
It brings society to a frame-work knit.
Service allows us to do to others a favour,
Which adds to our life full of flavour.
.
Service endows us with a virtuous life,
And it empowers us to live a larger life.
Service chisels us to beautifully refine,
And it tunes us to be in a haven divine.
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
One reason I left local news was that I was tired of the constant musical chairs among news directors.
quote by Jessica Savitch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Musical notes of life
The sun peeks through the horizon
In the wake of another day
As heart drums, breathe waves
Vibrations inside veins
Alert the soul;
Though and reason
Move notes of live within
Real self wrestled with the ideal
Arrange sounds of being in time
As inner peace champions the soul
Our life just plays on…
Like good music
Delight to the heart
Nice to the ears
Mind and soul struggle
To define time with vision
Dreams challenged with who we are
Conducts life musical bar
Yet, inharmonic each day unfolds
As hope give way to chaos
Unified or in disarray
The mind compose its play
Our actions write the lyric
Being in time make music
Music for life…
Performed to the audience
To the watching universe
To the world concert it shows
Composed in notes as each day goes
Existence in universe makes music
The sun rises every morning
Another day comes to be
It’s a new note musical key
Harmonized or in disarray
The mind composes its play
Musical notes of life…
poem by Fasika Ayalew
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Her Toys
I sat her in her baby chair,
And set upon its tray
Her kewpie doll and teddy bear,
But no, she would not play.
Although they looked so wistfully
Her favour to implore,
She laughed at me with elfin glee
And dashed them to the floor.
I brought her lamb and circus clown,
But it was just the same:
With shrill of joy she threw them down
As if it were a game.
Maybe it was, for she would look
To see where they were lain
And act pathetic till I took
Her toys to her again.
To-day there's just an empty chair,
And 'mid a mist of pain
I'd give my life if she were there
To toss her toys again.
A tiny ghost is all I see,
Who laughs the while I cry,
And lifts her little hands with glee
--Unto the sky.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Beach Chairs
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the setting sun
holding hands and reminiscing
how it all begun
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the ships out on the sea
holding hands and smiling
together we're meant to be
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching people walking past
holding hands and knowing
that our love will always last
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the waves along the shore
holding hands we realize
our love is stronger than before
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the changing tide
holding hands with happiness
to be by each others side
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the sunrise
holding hands with tears of joy
there are no more good-byes
poem by Joyce Ebrecht
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tribute To Professor P.Sambamoorthy
A tiny seed grown into a Banyan tree
Shoots noted aerially in deep roots
To grow repeatedly for aeons
Till the Earth's last breath
Blown out musically
Faming on into the ether...
Look, the wide mouthed sky
Exclaiming over an immortal service
Raga Devathas felicitating..
Advocated his musical eminence
The morning raga in the curriculam
Thence
The Sun in its universal voyage
Singing and preaching his words
Moon too along with the dancing stars..
The glory of a musical personality
Albeit a face of an attorney
Found founding a modality
Musicality in Madras university
Prof.P.Sambamoorty..'Maker of a musical century'
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Secret Service
You don't mind giving in to temptation as long as no one knows
Your midnight invitation where your madness flows
Fires of passion rage all night angels falling out of the light
Control undercover you can paralyze
Every love is one more victim they never realize
All their desires burn like a fever
They want to run but they just can't leave her
Secret Service Secret Service
Do they know how you scream
Secret Service passion - hunger
Do they know how you scream
I should have seen through her disguise she was a masquerade
Cold kiss hungry eyes then she began to fade
Feeling lost I want to be found
Heaven's in hell DON'T LOOK DOWN
Secret Service Secret Service
Do they know how you scream
Secret Service Secret Service
Do they know how you cry, can they see your dreams
Have they heard you sigh
Or do you save it all for me in your SECRET SERVICE
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
0051 The Blackbird of Truth
Waiting for the train, listening
to the blackbird singing
across the railway line
I whistled a musical game with it
of call and response,
variations, show-off riffs;
the blackbird listened,
held its head a little to one side,
crisply hopped onto the iron rail
and I thought myself mighty clever
as we played our musical game, and
it flew across the line, a few yards nearer,
swiftly, with clear intention
onto the platform two yards from me
and the whole world turned on me
as I realised I had no idea
whether it was playing at
blackbird makes friends with man
or whether it was planning
a swift dart at this rival’s eyes
and I felt humble, stupid, ashamed, and yes scared,
to have intruded in this blackbird’s life;
stopped whistling, turned away
and pretended it was just a game,
knowing now
it wasn’t.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Black And White
Stick to your guns
Diamonds are a girl's best friend
Nobody knows the trouble this poor boy's seen
People will believe anything
Man on the run
Always gets it in the end
Nobody cares 'cause nobody shares his dream
People don't believe anything
Everything is changed
Everything is still the same
It's just a part of the game
Blood on the moon
Patterns running across the floor
A musical inside a movie inside a dream
Guess you can believe anything
Everything is changed
Everything is still the same
It's all a part of the game
Mama, Papa, boys, and girls
Holding hands around the world
Wrong is wrong and right is right
Nothing changes overnight
I'll believe it when I see it in black and white
Tell me the truth
Nobody leaves here alive
In the black core of doubt
trying to get out in the light
Sometimes you can't see anything
Everyone is changed
Everyone is still the same
They can't get out of the game
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Solitaire Man
Excuse me, my friend
I did'nt mean to pull you out of that chair
ruining your preciuos game, of solitare
you have a job to do
just like us
there's nothing else to discuss
you can play
till your hearts desire, on your break,
a king of diamonds you must forsake
I know you have a hot hand
I know it's on fire
yet, I must take this stand
so get out of that chair
make us all aware
you really do care
quit that freakin' game of
solitaire
poem by Matt Mondschein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Marketing
Fruitful marketing strategy
Is crucial for any industry
And service-provider
Everyone loves beautiful thing
So the packaging of products
Must be eye-catching
Advertisement
Should be in such an way
So that the potential consumers
Are attracted
To the product or service
Quality of the product or service
Should be of international standard
So that it can survive
In the competition
Of open market economy
In this way
An industry or service-provider
Can become successful
poem by Asif Andalib
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!