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Why write for the orchestra? For one thing it's a very challenging problem.

quote by Elliott Carter
Added by Lucian Velea
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Problems

Too many problems, oh why am I here?
I need to be me, cause youre all to clear
And I can see theres something wrong with you
Oh, what do you expect me to do?
At least I gotta know what I wanna be
Dont come to me if you need pity
Are you lonely, you got no-one
You got your body in suspension
Thats a problem, problem, problem
The problem is you
Eat your heart out on a plastic tray
You dont do what you want and you fade away
You work for me, youre working nine-to-five
Its too much fun of being alive
Im using my feet for my human machine
You work for me, living for the screen
Are you lonely, all needs catered
You got your brains dehydrated
Problem, problem, problem, the problem is you
Oh what what you gonna do, problem, problem
Problem, problem, problem, the problem is you
Well, what you gonna do with your problem
The problem is you, problem
I aint death trip, but I aint automatic
You work for me, just stay ecstatic
Dont you give me any orders
To people like me, there is no order
Bet you thought you had it all worked out
Bet you thought you knew what I was about
Bet you thought youd solved all your problems
But you are the problem
Problem, problem, problem, the problem is you
Oh, what you gonna do with your problem?
Ill leave it up to you, oh problem
The problem is you, you got a problem
Oh what you gonna do?
They know a doctor, gonna take you away
Thay take you away and they throw away the key
They dont want you and they dont want me
You got a problem the problem is you
Problem, well, what you gonna do?
Problem, have you got a problem?
Problem, well you got a problem
Problem (x17)

song performed by Megadeth
Added by Lucian Velea
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Why Do I Write

I write from my sadness
I write from the madness
I write because I have something to say
I write to pass the day
I write only from the heart
I write for sometimes I am not that smart
Whatever is in head just comes out on paper (in this case a word document) , and I go with the flow
Write to let my mind go

I follow my hand to where ever it takes me
I write all the things that I can see
I write when I am happy, but not as much
I write from my heart that you can touch
I write because I’d go insane
I am driven to write quell my pain

At times I feel alone so I write what I am feeling
I write for it is self-healing
Confident not so I write it all away
I write and write to pass the day
I write to comfort my soul that cries out in the night
I write for love is always out of sight
I write so I don't have to cry any more
I write for I have no one to adore
I write so someone somewhere will hear my plea
I write for someone is out there for me
I am lost and I the clown
I write to turn my frown upside down

I write to embrace the sadness I hide inside
I write with my heart opened wide
I write to silence the ghost
I write for I’ve been let down by the one I loved the most
I write through the stormy weather
I write for I am light as a feather
I am not a writer nor am I a poet
I write for the grief I do know it

I will write until I draw my last breath
I write because I'll die a lonely death
I have to write for strangers delight
I write because I have to write
I write for my own happiness
I write to relieve my stress
I write because I have no other choice
I write as if I was writing a letter
I write because I can’t do any better
I write because I am afraid not to
I write for this is what I do
I write for I give a damn

[...] Read more

poem by Wilfred Mellers
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A Poem Written By A Confessed Bipolar (her Name To Be Revealed Upon Her Permission)

I write because I can
I write because there are so many things to be written.
I write because I can make a painting without a brush and paints in my hand.
I write because I can capture the moment without having a camera.
I write because letters and words are the only recipe I know how to cook.
I write because I want to read what I’ve written.
I write because I’m used to speak in silence.
I write because I have a story to tell.
I write because I want to strip off my flesh and live as a pure being.
I write because I can record my “voice” without having a recorder.
I write because it’s like a cup of coffee, it keeps me awake
I write because I want to live even when I do not exist.
I write because this is my throwing stones when I’m frustrated.
6/11/09 at 4: 42 PM
I write because I can flaunt my being when I don’t have clothes to show off.
I write because this is like making an encyclopedia to a coloring book.
I write because it’s more effective than my lithium medication.
I write because I’m tired of carrying these baggages on the road.
I write because I’m tired of talking too much.
I write because it’s a healthier diversion than smoking.
I write because it’s more therapeutic than analyzing my problem.
I write because I want to paint a thousand pictures with words.
I write because I can put colors to the letters and make a rainbow of words.
I write because it’s the key combinations to my hidden vaults.
I write because my ball pen is my best friend in the darkest nights.
I write because it surprises me with what I am capable of thinking&doing. 6/11/09 at 4: 43 PM
I write because I like that ideas are popping like pop corns.
I write because I can wander in the adventures of my own world.
I write because I have to cleanse my collection of memories of an old home.
I write because like a mirror you need to do a lot of reflections.
I write because I want to fight the battle of life.
I write because I wanted my little voice to be heard.
I write because I want to run from the insanities of the world.
I write because pictures don’t talk.
I write because it helps me connect the dots when I look back in my life.
I write because it brings me back to my crib of silence.
I write because it makes a buzz to other bees in my beehive.
I write because unlike my bike my destination is limitless.
I write because I want to become an inspiration without extinction 6/11/09 at 4: 43 PM
I write because like strumming of the guitar, it vibrates in my soul.
I write because I love to write.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Write Me

Aerosmith
Write Me
Well I've been away forever, suicide's crossin' my mind,
But I'll never never never never never get so far behind.
I said, the ways of the night are evil with eyes that love the day,
but I'll never never never never never get so far away.
I said write me, write me, write me.
I said write me, write me, write me.
Well there's nothin' I can see that'd ever make
me want to be without her she's good, she's good to me.
Said there's no way to explain the kind of feeling
that you get out in the rain she's good, she's good to me.
See this emptiness inside it makes me scream
it make me crawl out of my high, she's good, she's good to me.
I love her.
Write me a letter, write me a letter, write it today, I'm goin' away.
Well I've been away forever, suicide's crossin' my mind,
But I'll never never never never never get so far behind.
Well I've been so many places hidin' from the wind and the rain,
But you could write me a letter for to save me from a goin' insane.
I said write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write.
I said write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write me.
Don't write me baby.

song performed by Aerosmith
Added by Lucian Velea
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Write Me A Letter

Write me a letter
Write me a letter
Write it today
Im goin away (yes it has)
Write me a letter
Write me a letter
Write it today
Im goin away (yes it is)
Well Ive been away forever
Suicides crossin my mind
Well Ill never, never get so far behind
I said, the ways of the night are evil
Without that lord of day
But Ill never, never get so far away
I said write me
Write me
Write me
Write me
I said write me
Write me
Write me
Well theres nothin I can see
Thatd ever make me
Want to be without her
Shes good, she good to me
Said theres no way to explain
The kind of feelin that you get out in the
She good, she good to me
She good, she good to me
I love her
Write me a letter
Write me a letter
Write it today
Im goin away (yes it has)
Write me a letter
Write me a letter
Write it today
Im goin away (yes it is)
Well Ive been away forever
Suicides crossin my mind
Well Ill never, never get so far behind
Well Ive been so many places
Hidin from the wind and the rain
But you could write me a letter
For to save me from goin insane
Write me
Excite me
Write me
Write me
Write me

[...] Read more

song performed by Aerosmith
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Big Problem....

There is this BIG PROBLEM
WE decided not to talk about it
We think that that problem must solve itself
Auto-resolution

So day and night the problem stays there
Like a drunkard in the room
Vomiting
To every nook of the house
The house
That smells like fucking
Shit

But that problem is never considered a problem
There is a room for it to stay
And it can stay
It cannot consume us
It has no mouth and so it has no teeth
It has no tongue it cannot say a word
It stays there like a piece of art
And we begin to appreciate it
Like a piece of rock
Unchanged in the middle of the living room
We eat lunch there
They prepare nice dinners
We drink red wine
We munch chocolates
And sweet berries
The problem stays but it cannot nag us
Because we can pretend
That it is a brother
That we cannot junk but only love
And keep as part of the
Company

There is still this problem
And it did not solve itself
We live by this problem and this problem lives with us
Symbiosis

And so now
What is the problem? Is this a problem after all these years?
It is not anymore
We have learned that it is not a problem anymore
We die soon
And it shall perhaps disappear
Shall it weep over our departure?
That is its problem.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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0005 Letter to a Younger Poet

Thanks for your letter. Though
you’ve caught me at a rather awkward time –
I’m going into surgery tomorrow – a rather
risky op; so I’ll try to put all the answers that I’ve got
into this one letter;
I hope you'll understand...

and that helps me to make my first point to you:
write as if you, too, may not live
beyond tomorrow – write as if
it’s the last thing that you’ll ever write –
give it everything you’ve got,
hold nothing back;

or better still – write as if
the world will end for everyone tomorrow:
write so that in their last hours, too, this
will make them feel, will make them know
we’ve faced life fully, faced it so complete
that death is relatively unimportant now…

write as if it were only yesterday
that, in an air crash, all your family –
parents, wife or husband, partner, children, and best friend,
had lost their lives; write as if,
were you not to write,
your heart would break forever, or you would go mad...

write as if you’re writing somewhere
where there’s no such thing around, as ink;
you’ll have to use your own blood in the pen,
so use it carefully; so red, so living,
look at it… so beautiful, so precious,
and so solemn – use it carefully, don’t spill a drop…

write as if you’re borrowing every word
from the very centre of the universe, where suns and gods are made;
and need thus to account for every word
with your whole life, no less; know that every word
must be given back, cleaner, stronger, brighter
with your own power, than when you borrowed it;

write as if every poet that ever lived
is leaning over your shoulder, so that you
can feel their breath upon your neck as they say
‘Tell them all that we would tell,
but cannot now; tell them all of this’…
this, now, is how you must deeply be and speak;

write as if you are the only being on earth

[...] Read more

poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Human Face

I. Soon

Of all the springtimes of the world
This one is the ugliest
Of all of my ways of being
To be trusting is the best

Grass pushes up snow
Like the stone of a tomb
But I sleep within the storm
And awaken eyes bright

Slowness, brief time ends
Where all streets must pass
Through my innermost recesses
So that I would meet someone

I don’t listen to monsters
I know them and all that they say
I see only beautiful faces
Good faces, sure of themselves
Certain soon to ruin their masters

II. The women’s role

As they sing, the maids dash forward
To tidy up the killing fields
Well-powdered girls, quickly to their knees

Their hands -- reaching for the fresh air --
Are blue like never before
What a glorious day!

Look at their hands, the dead
Look at their liquid eyes

This is the toilet of transience
The final toilet of life
Stones sink and disappear
In the vast, primal waters
The final toilet of time

Hardly a memory remains
the dried-up well of virtue
In the long, oppressive absences
One surrenders to tender flesh
Under the spell of weakness

III. As deep as the silence

[...] Read more

poem by Paul Eluard
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Problem Child

(roy orbison)
Roy orbison (sun, 1957)
Well my heartbeat is running wild
Because of you my problem child
Oh-oh baby, don't be running wild
Well cool off baby, don't be a problem child
Well don't you see this shakin' spree
Is bound to be the death of me
Oh baby, don't be running wild
Well cool off baby, don't be a problem child
Well my heartbeat is runnin' wild
Because of you my problem child
Oh baby, don't be running wild
Control yourself, don't be a problem child
Well don't you see this shakin' spree
Is bound to be the death of me
Oh baby, don't be running wild
Well cool off baby, don't be a problem child
Well then i'm gone, that's all she wrote
You'll sing this same song note for note
Oh baby, don't be running wild
Control yourself, you're a problem child
Ooh, problem child
Yeah, problem child
Well, problem child
Yeah, problem child
Oh baby,you're a problem child
Slow down girl, down
Slow down girl, down
Down girl, down
Slow down girl, down......

song performed by Roy Orbison
Added by Lucian Velea
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Liberty

On my school notebooks
On my desk and on the trees
On the sands of snow
I write your name

On the pages I have read
On all the white pages
Stone, blood, paper or ash
I write your name

On the images of gold
On the weapons of the warriors
On the crown of the king
I write your name

On the jungle and the desert
On the nest and on the brier
On the echo of my childhood
I write your name

On all my scarves of blue
On the moist sunlit swamps
On the living lake of moonlight
I write your name

On the fields, on the horizon
On the birds’ wings
And on the mill of shadows
I write your name

On each whiff of daybreak
On the sea, on the boats
On the demented mountaintop
I write your name

On the froth of the cloud
On the sweat of the storm
On the dense rain and the flat
I write your name

On the flickering figures
On the bells of colors
On the natural truth
I write your name

On the high paths
On the deployed routes
On the crowd-thronged square
I write your name

[...] Read more

poem by Paul Eluard
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Withitness

Some people love the experimental in poetry
Poetry, in the experimental, love some people
Love poetry, experimental people. Some
Lovesome

Challenging all preconceptions
Preconceptions all challenging…
Preconceptions challenging all
All-challenging

Playing with outmoded language
Language playing outmoded
With playing language
Language-playing

But with an implicit social critique
Critique but social
An implicit but
Critique-implicit

In the spirit of post modern irony
Irony modern in spirit
Spirit in modern
Post-irony

Look Ma I can stand on my head
Stand Ma on head
Stand on my Ma I can
Can-head

All-challenging language-playing
Post-irony
Critique-implic it
Lovesome?

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Write It Down In Blue

Everyone knows it, see talks goin' 'round
It ain't no secret 'cause it's all over town
Some people are talkin' that we know so well
Everyone's heard it but the one you can't tell
Write it down in blue
Sorry I don't love you
If you can't face the truth
And you can't say we're through
Write it down in blue
What you are feeling, you just can't explain
Oh you got your reasons, now you just can't change
And there's no way to hide it 'cause baby I can see
So if you can't say it then do this for me
Write it down in blue
Sorry I don't love you
If you can't face the truth
And you can't say we're through
Write it down in blue
Yeah, that's the thing to do
If you can't say it's over
And you can't say we're through
Write it down in blue
Blue, blue, blue
Write it down in blue, oh
Blue, blue, blue
Write it down in blue
Write it down in blue
Everyone knows it, see talks goin' 'round
It ain't no secret it's all over town
Some people are talkin' that we know so well
Everyone's heard it but the one you can't tell
Write it down in blue
Sorry I don't love you
If you can't face the truth
And you can't say we're through
Write it down in blue
Yeah, that's the thing to do
If you can't say it's over
And you can't say we're through
Write it down in blue, oh yeah
Write it down, write it down
Write it down in blue
Write it down, write it down
Write it down in blue

song performed by Alabama
Added by Lucian Velea
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Playing Music Is Like Making Love

PLAYING MUSIC IS LIKE MAKING LOVE

Many people who insist that they enjoy
music known as classical merely say
they do, pretending. Far more serious is the ploy
planned by LSO, who'll just pretend to play.

There is surely nothing wrong with those who fake
enjoyment, like a woman faking an orgasm,
but pretense of playing music's a mistake,
since music needs not only sound, but ectoplasm.

Orchestras and lovemakers should never mimic:
they should always show their skin when they perform,
and should not be, although poetic, metonymic:
the use of any substitute is rotten form.

Denis Bartel reported the news about the London Symphony Orchestra's decision to mimic their playing while a performance is broadcast to visits at the Olympic Games. David Ng writes in the LA Times:
Musicians with the London Symphony Orchestra are reportedly going to have to pull a Milli Vanilli when they appear at the opening ceremony of the Summer Olympic Games in London. Reports from Britain state that the orchestra will mimic playing to prerecorded music due to concerns about the weather and the shape of the performing venue - a large, oval-shaped arena whose scale would apparently make a live-music performance tricky….
The London Symphony has reportedly recorded the music that is scheduled to be played during the July 27 ceremony. The Daily Mail reports that Boyle wanted the orchestra to perform live, but that he was overruled by the organizing committee for the Games. When viewers around the world tune in for the ceremony, they can expect to see the conductor and musicians from the renowned orchestra going through the motions while a soundtrack plays.
This wouldn't be the first time that the mimicking of live music was used at an Olympics ceremony. In 2008, a mini-controversy developed during the Beijing Games when it was revealed that a 9-year-old singer lip-synced to the voice of another young girl whom officials had deemed less telegenic. Similarly, at President Obama's inauguration, the musical performance by cellist Yo-Yo Ma, violinistItzhak Perlman, pianist Gabriella Montero and clarinetist Anthony McGill played, unamplified, to a recording. The decision to use a recording was made over fears that the cold weather that day could damage the instruments.

6/4/12 #10403

poem by Gershon Hepner
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No Problem

(r. palmer)
I think the two of us
Should visit paradise
Wed be so calm inside
Id be your alibi
I want to be the one
That shares in all your dreams
Always be there for you
To staisfy your needs
Thered be no problem - even if you just need someone to talk to
Ill be there to listen any time of day
Theres no problem you cant tell me about it
Oh baby I could make you happy more than any other man
Someone to rely on and
Care for you
I could keep you warm
Protect you from all harm
Id be right by your side
To keep you satisfied
No problem - even if you just need someone to talk to
Ill be there to listen any time of day
Thered be no problem if you tell me about it
Oh baby I could make you happy more than any other man
Someone to rely on and
Care for you girl
No problem
No problem
I think the two of us
Should visit paradise
Youd be so calm inside
Id be your alibi
You could get in my heart
And we could take a ride
We could go all the way
Or just to paradise
No problem
No problem
No problem
No problem

song performed by Robert Palmer
Added by Lucian Velea
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Problem Solver

If we stuck by the rules,
To ensure they're obeyed...
I can be,
A problem solver.
You can be,
A problem solver.
We could all be problem solvers,
If we got to be involved.

I can be,
A problem solver.
You can be,
A problem solver.
We could all be problem solvers,
If we got to be involved.

Troubles would diminish...
If we all got now involved.
Anguishing would disappear...
If it was not thought a job,
To be labored then be robbed!

Troubles would diminish...
If we all got now involved.
Anguishing would disappear...
If it was not thought a job,
To be labored then be robbed!

If we stuck by the rules,
To ensure they're obeyed...
Oh I can be,
A problem solver.
You can be,
A problem solver.
We could all be problem solvers,
If we got to be involved.

Troubles would diminish...
If we all got now involved.
Anguishing would disappear...
If it was not thought a job!
We could all be problem solvers,
If we got to be involved.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Song About You

If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you

I would write about how
You’re all I can every think about
How you flood my dreams each night
How thinking of you takes my breath away
When I look up to the satellites

If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you

I would write about how
The long lost butterflies returned
How I hope my number you’ll dial
And how your memory smothers me with smiles

If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you

I would write about how
You were the only one
Who had enough of me to break my heart
And when love took over my heart
You tore it all apart.

If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you

I would write about how
I gave you my heart
Caught up in the thought
That we were off to a great start
But how you threw a damn dart
Right into the center of my heart

If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
About how you crushed my heart
Not bothering to look back.

If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you

poem by Jess Schwarcz
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A Curse For A Nation

I heard an angel speak last night,
And he said 'Write!
Write a Nation's curse for me,
And send it over the Western Sea.'

I faltered, taking up the word:
'Not so, my lord!
If curses must be, choose another
To send thy curse against my brother.

'For I am bound by gratitude,
By love and blood,
To brothers of mine across the sea,
Who stretch out kindly hands to me.'

'Therefore,' the voice said, 'shalt thou write
My curse to-night.
From the summits of love a curse is driven,
As lightning is from the tops of heaven.'

'Not so,' I answered. 'Evermore
My heart is sore
For my own land's sins: for little feet
Of children bleeding along the street:

'For parked-up honors that gainsay
The right of way:
For almsgiving through a door that is
Not open enough for two friends to kiss:

'For love of freedom which abates
Beyond the Straits:
For patriot virtue starved to vice on
Self-praise, self-interest, and suspicion:

'For an oligarchic parliament,
And bribes well-meant.
What curse to another land assign,
When heavy-souled for the sins of mine?'

'Therefore,' the voice said, 'shalt thou write
My curse to-night.
Because thou hast strength to see and hate
A foul thing done within thy gate.'

'Not so,' I answered once again.
'To curse, choose men.
For I, a woman, have only known
How the heart melts and the tears run down.'

[...] Read more

poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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A Poet To Be

A poet I claim not to be,
For words are never there.
In all the years I've tried to write,
I have no words to share.

I sit and think but nothing comes,
No inspiration here.
I want to write of anything,
But still no words I fear.

I read the works of other poets,
I wish I were like them.
How do they write such beautiful lines,
A poet, I'm not him.

I try to write from the heart,
From deep within my soul.
I try to write of the love I have,
But cannot reach my goal.

But why I ask, why can't I write,
Of love so pure and true.
Why can't I write about her eyes,
A mix of green and blue.

I want to write about her smile,
It brightens up my day.
I try to think of anything,
But words I cannot say.

I wish I knew how to write,
A poem with such bliss.
I wish I knew how to describe,
Her soft but tender kiss.

I cannot even begin to write,
How she holds me tight.
How her arms around me,
Makes everything just right.

A poet does not have to think,
The words flow right out.
When I sit and try to write,
I want to scream and shout.

I mean come on, how hard can it be,
To write about her hair.
Such long beautiful natural blonde,
That flows in the air.

[...] Read more

poem by Adam McKim
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Who Is The Real Problem?

i am the real problem
i Do not have anything to do with my Life, it has only lonelines as the real cause of its misery.

i am the real problem
i Have figured out the real issue
Of the problem and
it is not capable of exact
Definition,

That seemingly is a problem apparently
Appearing to me as life but there is
No life in it
The right to call it life
Cannot be true, this is just to be frank about it.

I refer to the expertise of sorceress
She put some aluminates in cinders
And she figures out the illuminated forms of my
Problem,

a snake is the illuminated form of my misery

There is a snake in my house
Or
could be in my office or could be in my world.

The real problem is i
Do not believe the sorceress
And I am left with nothing to do but figure out the real
Problem in my dreams

Planes taking off and exploding in mid air
Rivers rising flooding and making a town disappear
Bamboo poles with lots of coconut oil rubbed on its sides and I cannot climb
My way of jumping into murky rivers filled with goldfishes floating dead
A brook filled with feces and I am there swimming
A snake chasing me and I cannot run as fast as I can
and it bites me
And I

Wake up
profusely sweating and trembling

i get a glass of water and
ThankGod that everything is simply
a bad dream

The real problem really is,
On the other hand,
I waking up

[...] Read more

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Why I Write?

I write poems for myself and I write for the readers
I write for the masses and I write for the leaders
I write to imprint my thoughts in people's mind
I write to make the bad guys helpful and kind
I write to light up our path to Great God
I write for everyone home and abroad
I write to preserve values new and old
I write to make my ink precious like gold
I write for peace and I write for progress
I write to make the world a better place
All major issues I want to address
I write to see smile on God's face

poem by Asif Andalib
Added by Poetry Lover
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