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I like minor tunes.

quote by Marian McPartland
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Instant Tunes

Instant tunes only just been made
Instant songs never to be played
Instant tunes hanging out to dry
Let me try to introduce you to
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Ever and ever will they give us pleasure
Their instant, still instant
Like mother used to make it -- oh!
Instant tunes give instant cash
Make me want to start a backlash
Let me have the recipe
And make me some lovely, lovely
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Ever and ever will they give us pleasure
Their instant, still instant
Like mother used to make it -- oh!
Ever and ever will they give us pleasure
Their instant, still instant
Like mother used to make it -- oh!
Instant tunes give instant cash
Make me want to start a backlash
Let me have the recipe
And make me some lovely, lovely
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Instant tunes

song performed by Xtc
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Passion

The keys to notes play tunes of loss,
Tunes of longing, tunes of blues.
'Til metal enshrouding the air does trump with
Tunes of longing, tunes of blues.
Wood and string provide a base for
Tunes of longing, tunes of blues.
Encased in brass belong the bones of
Tunes of longing, tunes of blues.
Emblems and traps do kick and swear by
Tunes of longing, tunes of blues.

Until laughter disturbs this sweet eden,
My tortured soul lies bare.
I leave my emotions encapsulated
In sonic vibrations of air.

The tunes of longing and tunes of blues
Are played until the eve
When players no longer respect their tears
And thus, themselves, deceive.

poem by Liam O'Brien
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The Ol' Tunes

YOU kin talk about yer anthems
An' yer arias an' sich,
An' yer modern choir-singin'
That you think so awful rich;
But you orter heerd us youngsters
In the times now far away,
A-singin' o' the ol' tunes
In the ol'-fashioned way.
There was some of us sung treble
An' a few of us growled bass,
An' the tide o' song flowed smoothly
With its 'comp'niment o' grace;
There was spirit in that music,
An' a kind o' solemn sway,
A-singin' o' the ol' tunes
In the ol'-fashioned way.
I remember oft o' standin'
In my homespun pantaloons—
On my face the bronze an' freckles
O' the suns o' youthful Junes—
Thinkin' that no mortal minstrel
Ever chanted sich a lay
As the ol' tunes we was singin'
In the ol'-fashioned way.
The boys 'ud always lead ,as,
An' the girls 'ud all chime in,
Till the sweetness o' the singin'
Robbed the list'nin' soul o' sin;
An' I used to tell the parson
'Twas as good to sing as pray,
When the people sung the ol' tunes
In the ol'-fashioned way.
How I long ag'in to hear 'em
Pourin' forth from soul to soul,
With the treble high an' meller,
An' the bass's mighty roll;
But the times is very diff'rent,
An' the music heerd to-day
Ain't the singin' o' the ol' tunes
In the ol'-fashioned way.
Little screechin' by a woman,
Little squawkin' by a man,
Then the organ's twiddle-twaddle,
Jest the empty space to span, —
An' ef you should even think it,
'T isn't proper fur to say
That you want to hear the ol' tunes
In the ol'-fashioned way.
But I think that some bright mornin',
When the toils of life air o'er,

[...] Read more

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Rubaiyat Of A Robin - After Edward Fitzgerald - Rubaiyat Of Omar Khayyam

Jest plays with rubaiyat and, four by four,
unseals for your amusement more and more
verses together thread in rosary
unreeled to bloom till tomb will curtains draw.

Repealed are value judgement and perspective
revealed through standpoint purely introspective,
darkside concealed of moon’s yin-yang shines clear
when we’re in orbit, - option more effective.

Rolled form performs rôle midwife to perception,
sprung tongue in cheek, tweaks sense of imperfection
or willingness to leach between the lines,
impeach entrenched ideas of self-[s]election.

This prose arose as stream deprived of section,
where ‘dip at will’ will still sustain inspection,
the current’s sense, at odds with current views
ignores round holes, square pegs, top-down direction.

Here there’s no fear of critics’ peer rejection,
contention treated with due circumspection
intention is to mention for retention
an overview or clue to extrospection.

Life’s curtains are a veil through which few see,
as many haste taste-waste eternity,
mixed up, ignore life fixes finite sum
to/through infinite opportunity.

Can “Truth” exist? all ask, who seek its core,
we, modest, etch our words to sketch the score,
diverse the verses which converge to link
reflections mirrored many times before.

Vast content, style, a while, united are,
aim at soul stimulation, nothing bar,
to pleasure, treasure, or discard at will
as minds outreach to other minds on par.

Meditating, we shed light on what
tomorrow’s tot may factor into ‘bot’ -
the poet’s lot, forgot, to help all think
ahead of time, enhance life for a lot

Some seek Nirvana, Faith speaks more than “how”.
Others reject Salvation’s wraith, - w[h]ine “now”.
Verifying facts? Inventing dreams?
Each furrow-burrows with a different plough.

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Blues In Minor Key

'Twas a lovely night in gay Paree
The stagelight was beating on him and me
He took my heart and spoke so well
And told me things no one else could tell
But far away in a barren tree
The birds sang the blues in a minor key

He was a lonely tramp in the world of rhyme
With words that caught me just in time
I gave him my body I gave him my soul
In front of the stage I played my role
But far away in a barren tree
The birds sang the blues in a minor key

The chimes of freedom rang that night
And stars in heaven were shining bright
The songs he sang were like ice and fire
Leading me through the bush and brier
But far away in a barren tree
The birds sang the blues in a minor key

Behind his mask and behind his name
He left the stage with nothin' to claim
Like a shooting star in the empty skies
Our love was done without any ties
And far away in a barren tree
The birds sang the blues in a minor key

And far away in a barren tree
The birds sang the blues in a minor key....

Copyright © 2011 Göran Gustafsson. All rights reserved

poem by Göran Gustafsson
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The Tin-Whistle Player

'Tis long since, long since, since I heard
A tin-whistle played,
And heard the tunes, the ha'penny tunes
That nobody made!

The tunes that were before Cendfind
And Cir went Ireland's rounds
That were before the surety
That strings have given sounds!

And now is standing in the mist,
And jigging backward there,
Shrilling with fingers and with breath,
A tin-whistle player!

He has hare's eyes, a long face rimmed
Around with badger-grey;
Aimless, like cries of mountain birds
The tunes he has to play

The tunes that are for stretches bare,
And men whose lives are lone
And I had seen that face of his
Sculptured on cross of stone,
That long face, in a place of graves
With nettles overgrown.

poem by Padraic Colum
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A Minor Key

A minor key, a minor key
has really taken over me.
It's got me low, so darned low
as low as I can ever go.
Those saddened tones with its minor 3rds
have influenced what I say with words.

So many days have passed me by
when the minor 3rds have made me cry.
Tomorrow I'll raise them a half tone
to stop the pain that seems to have grown.
Oh sweet music take me back
to a major sound. It's what I lack.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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Landslide

(john farrar)
Cold winds rarely blow
Here at the end of the rainbow
Guess its hard to believe
Id be willing to leave
Someone walked up behind me
Seemed to find me
I felt him standing there, I turned around and
Saw the face of an angel, I fell
It wasnt fair, it just wasnt fair
He took my heart, it was a landslide
You know it was a landslide
My head was saying this is the man
My heart agreed
My minor desires turned to major needs
My needs wont be denied
It was a landslide
Somehow Im thrilled by all he says
High on his campaign promises
I dont wanna come down
I dont wanna come down
But no promises he made me could persuade me
Like the loneliness that comes on when i
Try to go on without him
Try to doubt him
I confess, I have to confess
He took my heart, it was a landslide
You know it was a landslide
My head was saying this is the man
My heart agreed
My minor desires turned to major needs
My needs wont be denied
It was a landslide
Im in heaven when hes around
In heaven when hes around
And Im hoping that he might be
Feeling the same as me
Im in heaven, heaven
It isnt hard to see
He took my heart, it was a landslide
You know it was a landslide
My head was saying this is the man
My heart agreed
My minor desires turned to major needs
My needs wont be denied
It was a landslide
Im gonna tell everybody I see
Hes the only party for me
It really was a, it really was a
You know it was a landslide

[...] Read more

song performed by Olivia Newton-John
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A Melody In Soft Gilded Brown (Revised)

There's always a heroine playing the ivories in my heart,
she plays Schubert's Impromptu in A-flat major beautifully
tonight - light-flashing notes, rolling whirlpools encircling
a melody in soft gilded brown

I follow in dance, turning whorls twirling, move to and
fro, up and down, weave musical lines in my heart until
circles heave in emotion, reach a peak and melody gilded
in soft velvet brown breathes tranquil serenity

My heart's secret place engulfs everyday life, revels in
memory of every great love, assigns delight to everyone,
each ray of sunshine, all moonbeams safe in a place
where no blight of being can touch - a Platonic world

Perfect of ideas where beauty remains an ideal
calling the dreamer forth - briefly adorning the
face of every smiling human being…

No.4 in A-flat major

The fourth Impromptu, in A-flat major, actually begins in
A-flat minor, though this is written as A-flat major with accidentals. The opening theme consists of cascading
arpeggios followed by murmuring chordal responses.
These are repeated and developed, going through C-flat
major and B minor before finally reaching A-flat major.
A subordinate theme is accompanied by the arpeggio figure,
varied with triplets. In the central section, in C-sharp
minor, the arpeggios are replaced by a chordal accompaniment venturing into the major mode towards its conclusion, but
reverts to the minor. The opening section is repeated and
the work ends in A-flat major. The tempo marking is
Allegretto.

http: //en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Impromptus_%28Schubert%29

poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Dreamworks

DREAMWORKS
Eyes saw reflection Monday, when World War II was won,
emerging, letters learning, to betters bowed, begun
a journey spread like butter upon life’s bread, which seems
to be about to stutter before landlord of dreams.

Eye Tuesday schooled, life's masquerade began to understand
how letters strung together rung bells brain took in hand,
soft strength no bitter toil required to channel patterned streams,
blood flood no rudder needed to feed forever's dreams.

Eyes which advanced one Wednesday upon emotions’ tide
to woo, to win, together, as groom to beauty bride,
felt joys would last for ever, like strawberries and cream,
tapped hope's sap, never'd sever eternity from dreams.

Eyes which in turn one Thursday sired fruit so well desired,
who queried much, yet stayed untouched by vain ambitions tired,
felt feelings frank, not clever, that seek 'together's' gleams,
to sow, reap, harvest, gather the essence of shared dreams.

Eyes which Friday celebrate, see seed to stripling strong
stretch skywards, never hesitate, sift just from wrong's pronged tongs,
subjective views eliminate, zest tests through searchlight beams,
shows all may know glow grows, fair flows, to feed tomorrow’s dreams.

Eyes weary on this Saturday sense Winter drawing near,
reach through rhyme’s interplay to transmit loud and clear
before Time’s ‘weak~end’ weather may ravage, mock soul’s gleams,
this theme: ~ that one should never compromise on dreams.

Eyes which one Sunday may pass away, life legacy would leave:
ideals unbetrayed, pray none know poison, prison, grieve.
Life's cycle turns as candle burns, warms all within its beams, ~
road cats' eyes snake, make no mistake, tomorrow takes your dreams...

9 May 2005 minor modifications 21 April 2008 revised 30 April 2008,8 March 2011

for previous versions see below

DREAMWORKS

Eyes saw first light one Monday, when World War II was won,
emerging, letters learning, to betters bowed, begun
a journey spread like butter upon life’s bread, which seems
to be about to stutter before landlord of dreams.

Eyes which were schooled one Tuesday began to understand
how letters strung together rung bells brain took in hand,
soft strength no conscious effort to channel patterned streams

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Bomb In C Minor

There's a minefield set inside my head
Any little push and I think we're all dead
The barrel is loaded through my twisted neurology
Which social miasmas set in motion the trigger
Leading tainted endearments that lead me to linger
A hyacinth aborted, in the killing fields bloomed
caution were you tread, or this roman candle will yield

There's a bomb playing c minor, it's my schizoid sonata
Cracked coronets pick away my head with an axe
The violins scratch impressions on mahogany lines
While the Spanish guitar paints me to a far away time
And nobody hears the pressure point crescendo to the drums
as the bomb goes off for session number 1

Everyday is navigated combating a barbed wire planet
For eyes and subtle sneers, firing the shot penetrating fear
Wounds fragrant the body and make a casualty worn
Without notice to recoil the shrapnel lodges your thoughts
And every scar to the insults engineers a damaged mind
Leaving you on guard from your friends and your foes
Your never really sure, if their just exchanging roles

For every move in public view,
Exposes you to the gunman's cue
Get a role with Madam Guillotine
When you slip up on your tongue, in an open dialogue
And its blind date with a scaffold,
if you expose your heart to wolves in the sheets
Your maggot buffet if you don't have the resolve
Of a good poker face, under duress of public charge

Wisdom from the sludge has taught me how to run
To hide from the snipers who smile to brazenly
Sincerity is cosmetic, every emotion is synthetic
Every word is a code with an ulterior motive
Intimacy is segregated only a shield keeps me safe
Attachment is exposure to Greek barren gifts
Let them in and you receive a poison ivy handshake

Becoming a veteran at the age of adolescents
In a waiting room, reiterating old terror hit songs
Perpetual cycle of the dark thoughts of yester year
Brings poison to dreams of the things of today
Fear than blooms of ashes from future surprises
And everyday feels like a fly in a spider's web
Under the spotlight for the monsters teeth marks

There's a bomb in C minor, its singings as soft as lilac burns
There is a drum beating slowly with a disconnected cadence

[...] Read more

poem by Kevin Patrick
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Are These Not Our Choices?

we are sometimes
as human beings
as inferior beings

too smart
too sharp
too insolent

for our own good
for the good of others
for the good of community

the quick wit
the ready wit
the sharp tack

may be entertaining
may be a joy to behold
may be a blessing to friends
may be a blessing to us all

or is usually of good heart
or is relatively harmless
or is a minor inconvenience at worst

a minor discomfort
a minor difficulty
a minor annoyance

the clever
possessing intelligence
mental alertness

can be witty amusing
or disrespectful
impertinent abusive

but the shrewd
calculating
in business
other dealings

may bless aid us!
or fleece curse us!

the sharp minds
may perceive protect us
or cause sharp
stinging sensations
as they cut into our senses

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Eroica, Eroica, Eroica

Beethoven Third Symphony
A Beethoven master piece
The First Movement
The music starts softly and sweet
Picks soon with full force
In charm awakening
With the orchestra in full display
Loud with majestic power
We are overwhelmed
No place to go
We are exhausted
He relieves us now
With soft melody that follows
He has master command
The music comes quick in flurry
with persistent repetition
We are whipped with emotions
The music comes back again and again
In fresh successive succession
Like a boy coming hurriedly in the field
The tunes comes back
Haunting us in familiar rhythm
It is over and over again
Filling and nourishing our soul
Some sound comes again
From far away
Like someone we knew
Calling us softly,
Gently and beautifully
Racing and touching our heart
The old familiar tune
Comes back and back again
Teasing us
With power
Hurriedly closing on us
The music casts some sadness
The familiar tune comes back
Full of charm

Second Movement
A faint sad sound
So sad
Like funeral procession
The same tune comes back
dressed in sadness
So sad
Revival the music comes strong

Third Movement

[...] Read more

poem by Sherif Monem
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Farmer Defiles Minor

The muse of lust,
The muse of the farmers,
The muse of the state of the affairs in my land!
And, a farmer defiles a minor;
But, he was apprehended and handed over to the Police.

Farmer defiles minor!
In the bush with his act to lure this little girl;
And he extensively abused her! !
But this concealed act of his led him to the Court,
Because, someone witnessed the scene!

He forcibly molested the minor,
And he was sentenced to 20 years in jail! !
For this 40-year-old farmer defiled a 7-year-old girl.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Minor Earth, Major Sky

(magne furuholmen / paul waaktaar)
I cant see me in this empty place
Just another lonely face
I cant see me here in outer space
Its so hard to leave a trace
And I try and I try and I try
But it never comes out right
Yes I try and I try and I try
But I never get it right
Its a
Minor earth major sky
I cant see me in this lonely town
Not a friendly face around
Can you hear me when I speak out loud
Hear my voice above the crowd
And I try and I try and I try
But it never comes out right
Yes I try and I try and I try
But I never get it right
Its a
Minor earth major sky
But I try and I try and I try
But it never comes out right
Yes I try and I try and I try
But I never get it right
Its a
Minor earth major sky

song performed by A-Ha
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Ev'ry Time We Say Goodbye

(Porter)
Every time we say goodbye
I die a little
Every time we say goodbye
I wonder why a little
(Why you guys above me
who must be in the know)
Say so little to me
They allow you to go
When you're near
there's such an air
of Spring about it
I can hear a lark somewhere
begin to sing about it
Theres no love song finer
But how strange the change
From major to minor
Every time we say goodbye
When you're near
Theres such an air
of Spring about it
I can hear a lark somewhere
Begin to sing about it
Theres no love song finer
But how strange the change
From major to minor
Every time you say
Theres no love song finer
But how strange
The change from major to minor
Every time we say goodbye

song performed by Rod Stewart
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Every Time We Say Goodbye

(porter)
Every time we say goodbye
I die a little
Every time we say goodbye
I wonder why a little
(why you guys above me
Who must be in the know)
Say so little to me
They allow you to go
When youre near
Theres such an air
Of spring about it
I can hear a lark somewhere
Begin to sing about it
Theres no love song finer
But how strange the change
From major to minor
Every time we say goodbye
When youre near
Theres such an air
Of spring about it
I can hear a lark somewhere
Begin to sing about it
Theres no love song finer
But how strange the change
From major to minor
Every time you say
Theres no love song finer
But how strange
The change from major to minor
Every time we say goodbye

song performed by Rod Stewart
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Minor Importance

Gigs of minor importance are to be rude,
Minor men scent the Paradise,
Two women and one man is to conclude
Minor happiness, two for once.

Goggles satiate the individual,
Into believing of some who liven up,
Their goal is yellowy like Hell,
Like a river which said to reach and stop.

Hatred is mostly good for the evil,
Most are afraid of the finer,
Pointing out anything achievable
Like pointers of crime and caseworker.

I like someone who betrayed not anyone,
Guests like astrologers who smell them:
Those innocent tricks to dazzle and be done,
To greatly win a marvel from a hat stratagem.

Mostly, a feather is all that is needed,
To drive a wedge between the pages,
Honest hammers for smacking the exhilarated,
To be driven over once the feather kisses.

poem by Naveed Akram
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I Wanna Sang

[T] Whassup little man, what's wrong wit'chu?
[T] Why you lookin so sad - what's wrong?
Man, I went to school today
and the teacher said I couldn't be no rapper
[T] Say what? Why she tell you that?
She told me I had to be somethin, that's more realistic
like I could actually be, like a construction worker or somethin
[T] Man, construction workers ain't realistic man
[T] You can't be out there done sawin all day, boy it's hot out there
[T] Man, just keep on goin to school, get your education
[T] That way, you can be anything you WANT to be
[Chorus: sung]
I just wanna sing, can I, sing you a song
I bet you'll love it (I just wanna sing) yeah yeah yeah
(I-I ain't askin for much)
[T] Well go 'head then
I just wanna sing, can I, sing you a song
I bet you'll love it (I ain't askin for much)
[Trick Daddy]
Listen; I just wanna make music, I just wanna verse or two
In fact, man, I wanna be a rapper too
And I could probably sing the blues
Cause I got problems too, plus I growed up in the projects too
Well can you put me on your soundtrack?
Cause I got a good theme song that Betty Right could probably sing on
Yo, I just want a chance at stardom
I just wanna be more than a thief or robbin
Well, what about a remix? And I could probably make the beat
and get it done all in less than a week
And make it clean for the radio, so the kids could watch the video
Yo, but y'all don't hear me doe
Man, I just want a crack at it
If I fail I'll be back, cause I refuse to be a crack addict
I wanna prove the critics wrong
What started off with a poem done turned it into a song
Now I'ma sing it for you
[Chorus w/ minor variations]
[Trick Daddy]
Listen to me! I wanna be a legend one day, that way
I can be put in the same category with Barry White and Marvin Gaye
And have a tribute dedicated to me
Sell platinum records and win Grammys so that the world can see
you could be anything that you want to be
Play sports or make music, just put your mind to it
And yo, I ain't the typical 'American Idol'
But when I'm done, I'm sure the boy Simon'll like me
Everybody can't act rap, and no matter how real the dream seem
e'rybody can't sing
But, there's another Michael Jordan or Tiger Woods
somewhere right in the hood, plus

[...] Read more

song performed by Trick Daddy
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As long as its music

Please play me a symphony
Make a simple cheerful harmony
Please play me a chord from a guitar
For me, it does not matter
If I’m the only audience of your theatre

Give me some instrumental vibes
All rhythms and tunes are musically ripe
There is no need to take precaution
While playing the Banjo or flamenco percussion

As long as its music
We can all heal
As long as its music
We can all feel
We can sing out our hearts and soul
We can let this music take control

Please play me the drums
We can sing or we can hum
Please play me a CD or a hit record
We could sing to the tunes of an ipod

With the sounds of music we can compose a song
Maybe sing to the town’s bells chiming ding-dong
Please play me the sweet keys of a piano
Hit a sweet note that is a major or minor

As long as its music
We can all heal or cry
As long as its music
We can all feel or fly high
And I will be lost in your voice and eyes
Holding on to each minute that flies

Whatever sounds or instruments
I shall feel good in the moment
Please play me a note from a flute
Those peaceful sounds tend to soothe

I want to hear sweet, sweet music
Choose your lyrics, take your pick
My heart will dance, till she is weak
Get out that guitar, acoustic or electric

Please play me the violins of an orchestra night
String me some melodies in broad daylight
And we can rap to melodious sense or crap
While our feet’s playfully tap, tap and tap

[...] Read more

poem by Sylvia Chidi
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