Latest quotes | Random quotes | Vote! | Latest comments | Add quote

Music stops you from thinking.

quote by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Related quotes

When the music stops

When the music stops, the dance is done
So listen and dance with all your heart and mind
Always dance as if… t'would be your last one
Live life to the fullest, let the dance and the music unwind

When the magic is gone, it's gone forever
So leave room for mystery, in your life every day
Leave a bit of the unknown, in your every endeavour
For when the magic is gone, it's gone to stay

For when the music stops
And when the magic is gone
You can smile and look back
At a life that's well done

For when the music once stops
You dance again never
And when the magic is gone
Sure…Tis gone forever

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

If You're Thinking You Want A Stranger

Lately you've been showin' all the signs
Of a woman with someone else on her mind
It's not your fault
Some nights i've left you alone
And if you're thinking you want a stranger
There's one coming home
Chorus:
If you're thinking you want a stranger
I'll soon be there
You're gonna see a change in me
This time i swear
No more late nights
Comin' in at daylight
And no more doin' you wrong
And if you're thinking you want a stranger
There's one coming home
Bought you a silk gown and perfume today
Picked up some roses and champagne on the way
Oh i called to ask you to put some soft music on
Cause if you're thinking you want a stranger
There's one coming home
Chorus
If you're thinking you want a stranger
There's one coming home

song performed by George StraitReport problemRelated quotes
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

If You're Thinking You Want A Stranger (There's One Coming Home)

Lately you've been showin' all the signs
of a woman with someone else on her mind
It's not your fault
some nights I've left you alone
and if you're thinking you want a stranger
There's one coming home
Chorus:
If you're thinking you want a stranger
I'll soon be there
You're gonna see a change in me
this time I swear
No more late nights
comin' in at daylight
and no more doin' you wrong
and if you're thinking you want a stranger
There's one coming home
Bought you a silk gown and perfume today
picked up some roses and champagne on the way
Oh I called to ask you to put some soft music on
Cause if you're thinking you want a stranger
There's one coming home
Chorus
If you're thinking you want a stranger
There's one coming home

song performed by George StraitReport problemRelated quotes
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Let The Music Lift You Up

(troy seals, eddie setser)
Well you say youre from the city
Chicago is your home
Hey Im a country girl
Over oklahoma way
Oh there are miles and miles between us
But that dont mean a thing
When those guitars start to play
Oh sweet sounds of freedom
Ringing through the air
Sending out a message to us all
We dont have a curtain
Made of iron or stone
We are not divided by a wall
Chorus:
So come on tell me
Hey, hey, hey
From l.a. to broadway
Hey, hey, hey
Let the music lift you up
Hey, hey, hey,
Whoa everybodys singin
Hey, hey, hey,
Let the music lift you up
When youre feelin low
Hit that radio
Let the music lift you
Let the music lift you
Up, way up, way up
There are books that tell us
What makes this whole world turn
And how heaven holds the star wars
But theres no explanation
Lord its still a mystery
How a song can touch your heart
Repeat chorus
Let the music lift you
Let the music lift you
Up, way up, way up

song performed by Reba McentireReport problemRelated quotes
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

For You From Me

this is another love song full of promice and dought,
yea, another love song for you from me.
this is another love song filled with sorrow and pain,
yea, another love song for you from me.
this is another love song dressed in pink and black,
yea, another love song for you from me.

and we dance in the rain,
like a jester to a king,
yea, another love song
for you from me.....

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

I Cannot Save You from Yourself

I cannot save you from yourself,
from your father who died,
from your mother
who likes to quarrel with you
from every man that has broken your heart

but I can be there for you
when you need me,
try and bring tranquillity
after we visited your mother
listen and try to understand
about the things that worry you

and hugging and kissing
I do fairly well
and she looked at me
quite carefully
as if I had spoken pure truths.


(In answer to Sally-Ann Murray/Reference: Analysis by Sally-Ann Murray.)

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Music Stops the Heart Song

The heart is a priceless possession,
The music it sings is a love song;
Sung by the angeli de la sortia.
The voices are sweet like the ripe plum in spring,
But heartfelt as the divine.

The music plays an ever onwards.
As he said like a record;
Round and round and round it goes,
Where it stops nobody knows.
The piece of the heart for love and despair,
Seeks comfort in the night.

The music stops the heart song.
The music is the guide the…
The heart song is the blind…
The music stops the heart song.
Love.

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

The Music Is You

This song appears on two albums, and was first released on the back home again album, and has also been released as a live version on the an evening with john denver album.
Music makes pictures and often tells stories
All of it magic and all of it true
And all of the pictures and all of the stories
All of the magic, the music is you
Music makes pictures and often tells stories
All of it magic and all of it true
And all of the pictures and all of the stories
And all of the magic, the music is you
Words and music by john denver

song performed by John DenverReport problemRelated quotes
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

You're Thinking of Me

How can I stay in your mind,
And drench myself with longing?
How can I do this,
When it seems of late...
You have no time for me.

I remember when I could barely finish,
A completed sentence.
And there you were,
Sighing.
Anticipating my next breath.
And now your absence leads me to believe,
You have found someone else to pest.

'Pest?
PEST?
I 'know' you did not say that? '

Ahhh...
The fresh air!
Isn't it sweet?

'Pest?
Did you say I was a pest? '

Have you notice the quietness,
Just before dawn?
And when the Sun makes its appearance,
There is such welcomed activity.
Don't you agree?

'You called me a pest?
Is that what you think of me? '

You're thinking of 'me'.
And that's all that matters.

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Can I Get This Dance?

You wanna dance with me?
come on,
lets do it
Been dancing all night
where you from,
Do you come here often?
I'm shakin my stuff
give you a smile here and there
can handle these moves
I know I'm looking good!
on the dance floor
everyone looks good if they,
got all the right moves
practiced these steps
many times before
right now, Ithis is my song
I'm into this groove
shakin, my stuff
moving up and down
booty cheek
moving so quick
you just stop to look at me
are you admiring me
is it like that or something else,
I could give you another dance
are you glad you met me?
The music stops.
you look at me
I stand still
wondering if we will dance again
I'm alittle thirsty, you know,
Then you say,
Oh, thanks for the dance
and you walk away

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Gifts to Deliver You From Inner Conflict

You can not undo misfortunes done.
However...
You can ease the affects of them,
By not having them revisit in your mind.

Or share with others,
A wish to spread your darkness.

Not having that which had been in your possession...
May be a needed lesson learned.
And you refuse the method taught,
By this teaching done you did not seek.
And the diminished options,
Now out of materialism sought...
And easily once reached!

Eventually you will begin to see them,
As gifts to deliver you from inner conflict...
Sitting with you to torture!
When you loosen your grip.
Accepting the reality that now exists.

If you choose to grow and bloom!
To fulfill a happiness sought,
Without boundaries brought.
Or limitations...
You envisioned,
And once 'assumed' are requirements...
To nourish and feed an unending need,
To keep you wealthy in such gloom!

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

I Watch You From the Window When You Pick Up Poodle Doo

Is that your moody poodle,
You feed heated noodles to...
When I see you,
Rushing home from school?

I want to say to you,
That I could walk your poodle too.
And scoop up all that poo poo just for you.

I watch you from the window,
When you pick up poodle doo!
I imagine if I helped out...
You would not have to rush from school?
To noodle up your poodle.
Then pick up poodle doo.

Is that your moody poodle,
You feed heated noodles to...
When I see you,
Rushing home from school?

I want to say to you,
That I could walk your poodle too.
And scoop up all that poo poo just for you.

If you had a cat,
You wouldn't have to do that.
You would have so much free time.
I had a cat but he got fat...
And died when I chased him,
With a turkey butt he swallowed...
I was thawing.
For some greens I was going to buy!
He was the only cat I had,
That did not have nine lives!

I watch you from the window,
When you pick up poodle doo!
I imagine if I helped out...
You would not have to rush from school?
To noodle up your poodle.
Then pick up poodle doo.
I will do that,
If you want me to?

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Nothing accompanies you

Nothing accompanies you when you die
Ground only may provide space to lye
You will be tied with ropes for final journey
You have to think and turn the small key

You will not be judged by your fortune
There may be billions or to any tune
You are going alone and empty handed
Body has remained and souls is traded

You were powerful and whole world fascinated
You were kind and generous enough for people not to be alienated
You did enough of justice and lived up to the promises
You knew it may come one day as new surprise

Nothing more and nothing less will be your size
You will squeeze and more area may not be obliged
You will be laid to rest with all ordinary souls underneath
That is precisely your place not neat and clean after death

You may be fortunate enough
If procession is not marred by rough weather
It may be dazzling all the way
Or shiny with sun himself directing the way

The wealthy man’s remains may be marked
With all the way rose petals and when parked
It will be praised with wordy showers
This all will be seen as noble answers

It may look customary for the departed soul
Still it is shown as mark of respect without any foul
The futility of human life is seen at that particular moment
Every one is besieged with grief and re main silent without any comment

What is real size or status of person?
No one gets it at that particular time with correct reasons
It is understood that everything is remained behind
Even though there remains only few feet space to find

The moment you are back at normal routine
You are again at same level and feel fine
Nothing stops you from going on same lines
Even though you were pushed back with some side lines

Some of the incidences may look sad and disturb
It may reopen your wounds when unintentionally rubbed
It gives some sort of unsafe sense for on going life
It will have to move on despite the fear of sharp knife

So it is hardened reality of the life that compels you to act
You may not be in position to offer anything despite the facts
There is no use also for offering any kind of reaction
As it will be construed as nothing but simple dissatisfaction

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share
Patrick White

What's To Keep You From Dancing?

What's to keep you from dancing if you've got nothing to live for?
Dance naked in your tears. Cry through your laughter.
Plunge into a black hole and come out the other side,
renewed, a virgin, no more feathers and tar pits.
No more dead petals in a dry fountain. Absurd, isn't it?
When you begin to compare skulls with the moon,
not at all what you imagined you would see, not even
the prevailing consensus of delusion that passes for reality,
this neo-primordial soup of logos and memes
we're all swimming in like fish in radioactive water.
This pre-Cambrian efoliation of multitudinous sentience
re-inventing cuneiform to write it all down in the Burgess Shale
three hundred million years from now, fossil by fossil
and one among myriads, the lucky lottery ticket
of a fish with a spinal cord that will lead eventually
back to the saddest excuses in the world for the likes of us.

I've stood on bridges late at night by myself
watching the waters flow as if my mindstream
were going on without me, and the pain were too much
even for a poet to sublimate his way out of,
and I've lived my way to the end of a labyrinth of cul de sacs
and wearied of their chronic recurrence like a water wheel
at an abandoned mill that used to gamble on a river boat
things would stay afloat long enough to make shore
before the ship goes down. The crucial point here
is not to live with regrets as if you had something personally
to do with all of it. There's no starmap
for the burrs of the sorrows that smoulder
like brown constellations in the slums of an inflammable zodiac.

You diminish your arrogance at the expense of your humility
that's grown as gigantic as God, when you think
you know enough about the unknowable to fix the blame
as if you'd just come up with a new alibi for you and the world.
Could be a curse. Could be a blessing. Could be
an improbable concourse of unforeseen events
that's been chain-reacting well before
the infinite beginnings of the multiverse.

You cut your skin with razors as if you were
playing tic tac toe on your thighs, hoping someone
would come along like an antidote and suck the poison out.
But life isn't sweet when you've learned
to weep through your fangs. Go ask the moon.
There's no holy crusade going on as if the rose
aroused its petals to go to war against the infidelity of its thorns.
Even the predators, in their own way, are the children of their prey.
The longer the fangs. The sharper the talons. The harder the armour.
Ever seen what an owl can do to a snake? Yes,
things can be bad, but not necessarily for your sake.

They can be good, too, but if you think it's for you,
you're going to end up telling lies about suffering in your sleep
like a flashflood in a dry creekbed trying to wake the frogs
that have burrowed deep into the starmud for the duration
by singing to themselves in the rain as if they'd just had a revelation
it's wet on the moon again. I'd could give you any one
of a thousand interpretations of your eyes. I could
turn your sacred snake's tongue where the rivers part
into a green witching wand twitching over the watersheds
of mystic lightning. I could scry the self-sacrifice of your next breath
like the smoke of a distant fire on an autumn hillside
and try to explain the fireflies as the popular demotic
of the proto-nostratic of the stars and how that relates
to the scars on your leg. Befuddle you into a salvation
that would last at least a couple of decades before
you could ever find your way back by your own lights
to where you were going with the rain before I met you.

You're not wrong. You're not right. I could say that and mean it
as easily as a principled astrolabe looks upon a starless night
and doesn't try to see what isn't there. It isn't dark.
It isn't bright out. It's clear all the way to the next star
if you don't bind yourself to a mental atmosphere
where the mind suffers at the hands of its own weather
like a child that thinks it needs to be taught to wake up
from its own nightmare when, in fact, once things
begin to bottom out it's as over as a bubble rising to the top.

Pop! No more delusion, no more enlightenment.
No more mirages taking charge of the wellsprings
in the desert of stars in ruins around Jericho
as the wind shapes the sands in an hourglass
like a potter or a sculptor into a sea of eyes
that can actually flow like tears of glass in the heat
you can drink from like a dragon on the moon
just before it begins to rain. And the grasslands awaken
of their own accord. And everywhere guitar-shaped gazelles
are getting up on their own four legs like amputees
that haven't forgotten how to dance to the elegant thunder
of their own leopard skin drums. And the rain
comes back to your drought-stricken eyes again
and runs like rivulets and the unravelled threads of your lifelines
through the starmud gullies of your brain breaking
into waterlilies of insight on the banks of your mindstream
tempering the broken swords of moonlight
that are offered to it in tribute, not surrender,
because there is no war, into alloys of reality and dream,
delusion, enlightenment, imagination and awakening
no one before you has ever fallen upon like a dancer
who was cut to the quick by a life she's not been out of step with
by not so much as one angstrom of a wavelength of a firefly
for all the billions of lightyears along the way
you've been leading a pilgrimage of shadows deeper into the night
like a calendar of shepherd moons
you've been slashing like a sundial on your legs
moments away from the shrine of broken promises
you intend to keep like a vow you made to yourself
sleepwalking your way across the corals of your grief in bare feet
as if sooner or later you could tread all that blood into wine.

Put your dancing shoes on. Crystal slippers. Moonboots. Winged heels.
Stop carving your body like a deathmask you can wear in the world
like an alphabet with omega as its only child.
Why lie down on the grave of that morose saint of clowns
you prayed to deliver you from yourself like the spade
you were using to dig your own ditch on the moon
for the mass assassination of the innocent and obscene?
I'm a poet. And to me you're as beautiful inside and out
as a blank piece of paper after the first snow
has had a taste of moonlight and softly glows in the dark.
Not Joan of Arc singing at the stake of her own serpent-fire
feathering her body in flames, in boas of smoke to cover up
the glyphs of the bird tracks on the secret loveletter
she's been writing to herself in the flesh to really mean
what she says when she says I want to live, I want to love,
I want to give and receive the way I breathe without
meaning anything by it. I want to see, because I have
brave eyes, deeply into the light, into the dark, the mystery
of a life that keeps on going without knowing where it ends.

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Realize what you really want. It stops you from chasing butterflies and puts you to work digging gold.

quote by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

The New England conscience does not stop you from doing what you shouldn't-it just stops you from enjoying it.

quote by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

We are a nation that is unenlightened because of religion. I do believe that. I think religion stops people from thinking. I think it justified crazies.

quote by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Solitaries...

no one stops you
from being solitary.

no one stops you
from being you as

you never stop them
also from being them

solitary posts along
the boulevard after

a heavy rage of the
early morning rain

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Gutter Picks

Every time I see you,
You lose more of your credibility.
And you say I've remained authentic.
But nothing stops you from enjoying,
Gutter picks!
And you wish that I keep a faith in you.
What would be my reason?
To share more lows with you...
Than you share my highs?

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

To Live In World

To live in world as man or woman
You can prove as true human
Who stops you from living as you like?
This idea must remain at heart and strike

Noble people are those who live on with ideals
Their life is simple but in fact very real
They have nothing to hide or make deal
It is always their endeavor to have sympathy and feel

Human race is not what we have made
We need enough of digging with spade
The earth can be made soft and fertile
The garden can boom in its own way with style

We have forgotten the basic values
Humanity is not realized with its dues
If we can’t give good or worthwhile to anyone
We are shame on earth and hence claim none

Not everybody can be assured of lovely life
As everybody is expected to walk on an of knife
It can be made rosy and worth to live
If we adhere to and respect the life of others and believe

If you bow your head with respect
No one may have any kind of grudges to react
You will be given due weight age and recognition
Your word may find right place with consideration

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share
 

Search


Recent searches | Top searches