Wisdom Whistled A Merry Tune
quick writes prolific
outran all listener ears
wisdom whistled tune
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Related quotes
Poparazzi
tune
tune for the poparazzi
tune for the poparazzi
this is a tune the poparazzi
the who's who and the so and so's
this is a tune for the graven images of marilyn monroe
we saw your face on the magazine
we heard the song on the mp3
you're stuck in my head
stuck in my head
stuck in my head
you can close your ears and your eyes
but the pop will never leave you alone
tune for the poparazzi
leave me alone
with your social lingo
you try so hard to stay on top
leave me alone
with your little jingle
with your picture perfect pop
we read the article in seventeen
we saw the video on mtv
you're stuck in my head
stuck in my head
stuck in my head
you can close your ears and your eyes
but the pop will never leave you alone
pop will never leave you alone
noooo
this is a tune for the late nirvana
the teen spirit rock and roll
this is a tune for the velvet elvis's
on the 90210
i thought my eyes were gonna get off clean
till i read your lips on the tv screen
you were busy saying what you didn't mean
now everyone is singing along with your ridiculous song
you got it stuck you
got it stuck in my head
stuck in my head
stuck in my head
you can close your ears and your eyes
you can close your ears and your eyes
but the pop will never leave you alone
tune for the poparazzi
tune for the poparazzi
song performed by by Switchfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Must
She writes as if there’s not much time.
She writes to pain, to happiness,
She writes to every remote detailed thought.
She writes to the departed,
to the extant,
to poverty,
to wealth.
She writes to mourn, and grief.
She writes to the wind, the rain,
forest, the desert, and mountains.
She writes to her pouring tears,
to her grateful moments,
She writes because really what she has is time.
She has no little ones to feed, or bathe,
nor a husband to make happy. To write is
to escape- to her. Time is not a problem, time
is just a killing system, she needs to kill in many words.
She writes as if there’s not much time.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Listening and thinking
A good speaker is a bad listener.
A batsman is keen in watching.
A bowler is keen in throwing.
The bad listener hardly learns.
The good listener hardly thinks.
28.03.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Be a good listener. Your ears will never get you in trouble.
quote by Frank Tyger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The sound of music,
Hey! that’s ringing in my ears!
Tune into the tune.
quote by by Ernestine Northover
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There once was a man from Drumcroon
Who whistled himself a fast tune;
He screwed up his face
Until so out of place
That his mouth near resembled a prune.
(Written Nov 2012)
quote by by John Carter Brown
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Sometimes I wish I could walk up to my music for the first time, as if I had never heard it before. Being so inescapably a part of it, I’ll never know what the listener gets, what the listener feels, and that’s too bad.
quote by John Coltrane
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Reflections 101
he writes not because
he wants to be read and
be understood
got him wrong really
he writes because he likes
to live
life writes upon himself
and so he writes upon life too.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When I was speaking about communicating, I meant that the listener - we have to reach the listener; otherwise, of course, you're writing the piece, as I say, only for the satisfaction of seeing it on the paper for yourself, and then it ends right there.
quote by Leo Ornstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Quick
Quick to dismiss,
That which is misunderstood.
And quick to do this often.
Because one can and could.
Quick to define something wrong.
Quick to complain about it,
All day long.
Quick to sit to nitpick and pull apart.
As if this quickness was intended from the start.
Quick to resist a comprehension that exist.
Quick to allow a temper tantrum fit.
Quick to whip up excuses...
And split to disappear.
Quick to discover the nearest exit!
That's what troublemakers do...
When they stir up others in raging fits!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Book Of Suleika - The Loving One Again
WRITES he in Neski,
Faithfully speaks he;
Writes he in Tali,
Joy to give, seeks he:
Writes he in either,
Good!--for he loves!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Words
Words live on and on and on.
Never do they die.
They fill the ears of listeners
until they say goodbye.
Then the listener's progeny
hear them once again
as they repeat themselves like echoes
from the mouth or from the pen.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Two Songs Rewritten For The Tune's Sake
I
My Paistin Finn is my sole desire,
And I am shrunken to skin and bone,
For all my heart has had for its hire
Is what I can whistle alone and alone.
Oro, oro.!
Tomorrow night I will break down the door.
What is the good of a man and he
Alone and alone, with a speckled shin?
I would that I drank with my love on my knee
Between two barrels at the inn.
Oro, oro.!
To-morrow night I will break down the door.
Alone and alone nine nights I lay
Between two bushes under the rain;
I thought to have whistled her down that
I whistled and whistled and whistled in vain.
Oro, oro!
To-morrow night I will break down the door.
II
I would that I were an old beggar
Rolling a blind pearl eye,
For he cannot see my lady
Go gallivanting by;
A dreary, dreepy beggar
Without a friend on the earth
But a thieving rascally cur --
O a beggar blind from his birth;
Or anything else but a rhymer
Without a thing in his head
But rhymes for a beautiful lady,
He rhyming alone in his bed.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Wisdom
Wisdom
Looms, tempered
Like a daylily blooms
In bars of iron sleep
Wisdom wakes
Like a ravenous lion.
With ears of golden wheat
Folded yet; into another sleep.
Wisdom roars and rolls, out
His paws his talon claws
He lifts up his prey
Just to snarl'
What did you taste?
Here on the air today!
poem by Mark Heathcote
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Pleasantries
When you meet one
You must greet
Saying good morning.
When you part
You must treat
Saying good night.
In between, you say
“How do you do? ’
The words are lifeless.
You use them heartless.
The listener knows it.
If you don’t use
The listener is hurt.
Pleasantries are ghosts
Offending in their absence.
17.03.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Prolific Me
In the quiet hours of the evening,
I sit at my desk
and set my imagination free
hoping to write one poem,
but then end up with three.
It is no good I have to confess
I am just a prolific me.
The poems are all different
and I never know what subject
will come to my fertile mind,
only that it will come in a rush
line after line after line.
I tried to slow down the process
by not picking up my pen,
and then just ended up
with lots of words
just dancing around in my head.
The more I tried to fight them
the more they multiply
and I just end up again
being a prolific me.
14 March 2011
poem by David Harris
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Dance Band
Watch them go one two three
Im so happy and so is she
In a danceband
Show slow quick quick slow
Heel to hell and toe to toe
In a danceband
You can do the bosanova
till the night is through
You know gay gordon
You can meet him too
But when you hear that tune
One and one makes two
Dont step on my toes
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Quip
The merry World did on a day
With his train-bands and mates agree
To meet together where I lay,
And all in sport to jeer at me.
First Beauty crept into a rose,
Which when I pluck'd not, "Sir," said she,
"Tell me, I pray, whose hands are those?"
But Thou shalt answer, Lord, for me.
Then Money came, and chinking still,
"What tune is this, poor man?" said he;
"I heard in music you had skill:"
But Thou shalt answer, Lord, for me.
Then came brave Glory puffing by
In silks that whistled, who but he?
He scarce allow'd me half an eye:
But Thou shalt answer, Lord, for me.
Then came quick Wit and Conversation,
And he would needs a comfort be,
And, to be short, make an oration:
But Thou shalt answer, Lord, for me.
Yet when the hour of Thy design
To answer these fine things shall come,
Speak not at large, say, I am Thine;
And then they have their answer home.
poem by George Herbert
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I Am Writing A Poem That You Can Understand So Easily
this is not to insult your intelligence
or your sensibility
your capacity for managing angst,
to see the wholeness
of the matter
in the eye of the needle
where the camel enters where you claim you have seen it,
this, this is it, the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the riverthe quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the riverthe quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the riverthe quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the river the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the riverthe quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the riverthe quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the riverthe quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog near the bank of the river
do you not find wisdom in it, it is filled with questions to be answered:
why is the fox quick
why is it brown? why does it jump on a lazy dog? and is the dog really lazy? is this not offensive to the dogs in the royalty? and why should the river be near? and this bank of the river? is this where the dog lives? or the fox or the dog, do they relate to the word quick and lazy?
i tell you, there is wisdom in every word, no matter where you place it.
every verb serves its purpose in giving us action,
every question calls for an answer
and every period serves the purpose it is intended to be.
rest.
the purpose of an easy poem is to understand it, and so the poem is written in the most familiar language that you know and speak,
period.
i don't want to understand things really, there is no point there.
period.
some poems are not meant to be understood, they are only meant to be read.
period.
some poems are not meant to be digested, they are meant to make
us full, even only for a while.
period.
some poems are written by Someone Else, and this writer does not
even understand it.
period.
rest.......
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A good listener is not someone with nothing to say. A good listener is a good talker with a sore throat.
quote by Katharine Whitehorn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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