Quotes about canon, page 3
The Western musical canon came about not merely by accumulation, but by opposition and subversion, both to the ruling powers on whom composers depended for their livelihoods and to other musics.
quote by Brian Ferneyhough
Added by Lucian Velea
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Inaudible prayers, particularly of the Canon, which at first don't seem to have anything to do with music, end up being a very important part of the aesthetic of the traditional structure of the Mass.
quote by Richard Morris
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To the Rev. Canon Fisher
To the Rev. Canon Fisher
Pretoria
The night before we're shot
We shot the Boers who killed and mutilated
our friend (the best mate I had on Earth)
Harry Harbord Morant
Peter Joseph Handcock
poem by Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant
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A true servant of God will never teach a false doctrine. He will never deny new revelation. He never will tell you that the canon of scripture is full, or that the New Testament is the last revelation ever intended to be given to man.
quote by Orson Pratt
Added by Lucian Velea
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M. Pom-Pom
M. Pom-POM allait en guerre
Per vendere cannoni
Mon beau grand frère
Ne peut plus voir
Per vendere cannoni.
M. Pom-POM est au sénat
Per vendere cannoni
Pour vendre des canons
Pour vendre des canons
To sell the god damn'd frogs
A few more canon,
poem by Ezra Pound
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Your Lips
wet
like a morning red daisy
drenched with
dew
a door
half-open
waiting for
my lips
for you are incomplete
without me
at the height of this fantasy
you lips become
the door of the castle
that i shall bombard
with my
canon tonight
my tongue to
your tongue
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Meaningless
The shift to vernal tone
starts a standoff with eyelashes.
A sickle moon begins
harpooning the stars.
The unorthodox microlove
brings out a ciliated canon
of faithless interior. The gods
were going to become weary of snowfall.
Punctuating the silence, words
again scream, fly like eagles
in the valley of wounds. How far
the fire will go engulfing the untouchable?
poem by Satish Verma
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The birds are flying north
The birds are flying north
before winter bites
with the first chill,
but coming south
with a whistling whine of rotors
An ugly enemy helicopter gunship
hangs deadly in the air.
It’s just another ugly monster
with a canon in the nose
and a bunch of sinister rocket pods,
that flies past.
a Missile flies into the blue sky
and the monster explodes and is gone
from the air
and some more birds fly past
heading north.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Minefield
Thunder came from the grass
and open the earth split
tearing the wheels from a armoured car
and again the ear deafening roar
just as before lightening leaped
right from the ground
slicing at a battle tank
and then most of the armour
draw back to safe ground
and two officers went right in
through the battle din of machinegun
and tank canon
to extract a tank with a wounded man
while shrapnel fell and bullets screamed
across their heads
and at the craters edge repaired,
got that piece of armour moving again.
poem by Gert Strydom
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To Be An Anthology Poet
To be an anthology poet whose work
Children hate to read in school
And re-discover in later life as meaningful and beautiful-
To be an anthology poet
And have generations know one’s poems
As part of the eternal canon-
To be an anthology poet
One of the few names
That has survived
When thousands of one’s contemporaries’ have not-
To be an anthology poet
To have written a few of the great and the memorable poems-
To be an anthology poet
To be what I am not
And most likely never will be.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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