Instrumentals Poems

frog and bear

Frog was selling the heck out of the flowers today
A cellist came by asking if he would pay him to play
Frog thought the bear was annoying, but allowed him to stay
However, he told him he had no money to pay

The cellist did not mind, he was pliable and sweet.
He performed some fantastic pieces; his instrumentals were neat.
The frog changed his mind and asked the bear to come back tomorrow.
I could probably pay you a shilling, he told him, to the bear’s sorrow.

Pursuing Poetic Polyphony

Applauding an Acrostic Aria
Bopping to a Ballade Ballet and Blank verse Berceuse
Clapping to a Cinquain Cantata and Couplet Chorale
Dancing to a Dizain Duet
Exalting in Etheree Etudes and Elegy Ensembles
Frolicking to Free verse Folk songs and Footle Foxtrots
Galavanting to Ghazal Gavottes
Humming harmonies to a Haiku Hip Hop
Inhaling Italian sonnet Instrumentals
Jiving to a Jueje Jig
Keeping time to a Kyrielle Khaliji*
Lolling to a Limerick Lullaby
Marching to a Monorhyme Minuet
Napping to a Narrative Nocturne
Ovations for an Ottava Rima Overture and Ode Opera
Praising a Pantoum Polonaise
Quieting my quarters with a Quatrain Quadrille
Rollicking to Rondeau Rondos and Rhyme Royal Rhapsodies
Singing to Sonnet Sonatas and Sapphic Stanza Symphonies
Tapping toes to a Triolet Trio and a Tanka Tango
Unwinding to an Urban Sonnet Unison
Vocalizing a Villanelle Villanella
Whistling with a Waltz Wave Waltz
eXulting in Yaltos and Zikets

// Lines consist of a verb, a poetry form, and a musical form //

*Khaliji = modern contemporary music of Central and Eastern Arabia

Chip Davis

Born in Hamler Ohio
Child of Louis F Davis Sr
Lived in Portland and Savannah Ohio 
Study at the University of Michigan 
Specializing in the bassoon a percussion 
Overcame fusing 
Modern popular and classical techniques in music 
Worked as an advertising jingle songwriter 
Challenge by the toning down of his music 
Started his own record label personal traits Davis founded Mannheim Steamroller in Omaha Nebraska
Always written suburb instrumentals and verses 
Never gave up best known for his revolutionising
The Sound of traditional Christmas music 

Fresh Aire

11/26/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr  2019

All I's On Me

Ideas instantly infest imaginations
& it  could lead to inqueries
From imbusiles with iffy intelligence
There indecision will never get em
In position to be anything more
Than inconsistent, if that
Still irritated with my own irresponsibility
As an individual I intend to illustrate
Intellect that intercepts incorrect 
Information before it can get, in a head
Incapable of storing it, because once it's said
Then it's left, to your own interpratation
I hate when idiots impolitely interrupt
With insignificant stuff that sounds ignorant
Inconvienent to hear
And impossible to understand
And has been insincere since the infancy 
Of its inception, industries are built on if's
If you can do this for me,  your in
If not someone else will happily fill your seat
Kick rocks
Inch by inch i introduce my intentions
To wreck wreckless MC's
That immatate me way to much
And this can lead to serious injuries
In a sleep only insomniacs would dream of
Now isnt that intresting,
I intervine on impressive instrumentals 
In order to insert my two cents in
Justust because its inexpensive
All i's on me

Blackmails

Dwellers of the capital city-
In a rare circumstance
Driving in their heavy engines
Migrated in flocks of birds
To the rural areas to beg-
Not sugar not salt-
Not money not shelter
In somber voices chanting slogans
Their instrumentals biasing the rural
Shouting party names throwing cash
Confusing hardworking farmers
Like dogs like vultures they run-
For killer remnants
Like small fish they swim in numbers
For the stuff on the hook-
In order to vote YES in numbers
Even though hearts feel NO
After chewing and swallowing-
From the baits
Crocodile hippopotamuses and the sharks-
Own back the sea

Dream Series: the Rare Lp

Last night I dreamed I owned a Beatles album from their break-up period that was never officially released and even most Beatles experts didn't know it existed.

 I had one because I'd had a lover who had partied with Paul and he gave it to her and she didn't give a **** about it so she gave it to me (I did have a lover who partied with Paul, but the rest of the dream wasn't true).

So it popped to the top while I was sorting through storage boxes. It was vinyl, in a slip cover not indicating what was inside, just various bits of colored paper without words or imagery. 

The record consisted mostly of terrible instrumentals with now and then John or someone cussing or mumbling. 

Then I remembered I had a lot of similarly rare things by British invasion groups and realized if I dug them out now, I could probably sell them for a fortune.

Instrumentals Speak

They say music makes you lose control but listening the instrumentals gives you inspiration, gives you life within life and also brings you happiness.

Our Thunderous Silences

High school:
A cacophony of deafening personalities,
Everyone racing,
Competing,
Fighting for individuality
In the midst of a war
That cannot end.
If we had nothing to battle,
What would we do
With our emerging identities?
In a symphony of adolescent instrumentals,
I am the piano,
Dancing quietly below the louder instruments,
Just soft enough to remain underneath their notes
But important enough that without me
The entire piece would fall flat
And be reduced to nothing
But useless noise.
I must pay close attention
To every note I play;
One misstep and the piece comes crashing
Down around our sunburned ears.
No matter how cautious I am,
There will always be the one line
That my fingers stumble over:
I've learned to keep moving,
Keep playing,
And smile like I haven't royally screwed up.

South Africa

Listen to the jazz instrumentals of Masekela,
as you take red wine outside a thatched
shelter in a beach in the Western Cape.

Enjoy a hearty meal of bobotie (meatloaf), 
chakalaka (a spicy vegetable relish),
tomato bredie (a lamb and tomato stew),
potbrood (pot bread), 
melktert ( dessert)......
and other forms of cuisine;
have a siesta in the canvas tents,
then you visit the misty mountains
of the Magoebaskloof.

To feel at one with nature,
visit Limpopo, and get lost in the awesomeness
of sighting elephants, lions, rhinos.....
You'll see baobab trees stretching their branches
to the red, setting sun;
get dazzled by the Limpopo river's majestic
flow to the Indian Ocean.

Introduce yourself to all kinds of dialects and people;
Africans, Dutch, Indians, and Malaysians.
Watch their traditional dances,
and listen to their folklore - it will remind you
we are from the same Womb; Earth.

See Nelson Mandela in people's smiles and way
of doing things in the cities, streets, and towns.

Listen to South Africa's unifying anthem,
as you take a ship back home......

The Singer

Cherry-red lips paused behind the mic;
a white dress glittered in the stage lights;
a face looked like that of an ingénue,
as the eyes seemed chatoyant
behind the stage lights. Her mellifluous voice blended
so well with jazz instrumentals,
that she became cynosure. Time became still,
with exception of the audience’s heartbeat
beating in unison,
as though they had created an anthem
dedicated to her only – her lissome nature							
could win an entire country’s votes!
There was something ineffable about her;
the aura she unleashed was screaming and demure
at the same time. 
I saw a halo all around her,
as she sang about love,
like no one has ever sang before…
I looked around and saw faces
that could see what I was seeing.
Glamour she exhibited seemed sempiternal,
“She’s a panacea!” I screamed deep within my soul.
She then warmly looked at me,
as though she had heard my scream!

You Don'T Know Me, I Break Things

I used to have these memories
it's like they'd write themselves
sowing me into scenes I never remembered being in
A cross stitch hostage with 
my eyes flashing against the midnight black
it's the time when the blood is the warmest

taught, handcuffed to a moving car
it races down these dead end city streets
with the radio catching nothing but static
and when we drive off the pier
I can still recall the same familiar song

it's mornings like this I drink to forget the night
the whiskey masks the stubble
the stubble masks the frown lines
empty stomach yields water and nothing more
how ancient these rituals are
I am little use to the living these days
regards to the heavens
I've taken to these gutters
watching ahead and I'm falling behind
so let the sun beat in
catching my pale white skin
and turning me to flame

your songs write themselves
from these fingertips
but my voice can no longer speak your name
these are your instrumentals
that I sowed myself into
I've missed you for so long now
I need to be a part of something 
need to feel real again

The Heavy Wait

Unwavering Instrumentals

Of Silence and Snow

Address Us In Cool

Flurried Fragments

Casting Plaster Paragraphs

Of Quiet Notes Which

Lay, Quilting Georgia Flats

And Other Places

In Need Of No Great Equalizer

For True Turbulence, There is none.

A Make-shift

White Washed World

Momentarily Cleaned of impurities

A soft Caucasian Solace

To be muddied by Sullen Shoes

Tracks of progression

Translate into streams

Of Colored Chorus

And malevolent reward

Melt down into Moth-Eaten Mistakes

Classic Chords of Speculation

With great intent,

Comes unclaimed consequences

That the disciples of silence

Will surely be back

To Once Again Incubate.

Beautiful yet Sinister, Like Your First

Slowly With No Emotion,

The Composition Stacks Bit by Bit

Rhythmically putting weight

On that which will Happily fall.

The Heavy Wait

Unwavering Instrumentals

Of Silence and Snow

Address Us In Cool

Flurried Fragments

Casting Plaster Paragraphs

Of Quite Notes Which

Lay, Quilting Georgia Flats

And Other Places

In Need Of No Great Equalizer

For True Turbulence, There is none.

A Make-shift

White Washed World

Momentarily Cleaned of impurities

A soft Caucasian Solace

To be muddied by Sullen Shoes

Tracks of progression

Translate into streams

Of Colored Chorus

And malevolent reward

Melt down into Moth-Eaten Mistakes

Classic Chords of Speculation

With great intent,

Comes unclaimed consequences

That the disciples of silence

Will surely be back

To Once Again Incubate.

Beautiful yet Sinister, Like Your First

Slowly With No Emotion,

The Composition Stacks Bit by Bit

Rhythmically putting weight

On that which will Happily fall.

Chair of Death

On a cool afternoon for tea,
She sat in that chair,
Humming for our silence;
Her bones quivering the instrumentals
Within the ruffles of the skin.
When her tune came to an end,
She took time to turn our way.
Not because she felt obliged 
That she had all the time in the world,
But because her youth had shredded
To make her nothing but one
Who hoped for time.
For the painstaking moments passed
And we locked eyes.
She fought her raging wrinkles to smile
And nod my way.

Perhaps she tried too hard
To say a decent goodbye.

One would think he keeps it
Because he has to.
We'd sit on the floor first
Before we touch that chair.
For it encases you, 
Tightens its weight upon you
And hums so sweetly between the ear and soul,
The sounds of a sour, unsaid farewell.

Bad Romance By Lady Gaga

What's so great about Lady Gaga's hit single, "Bad Romance," is that of its nightclub scene. Her music video had seen on MTV and YouTube.com. When everyone is listening to "Bad Romance," it's like he or she is at one of those awesome nightclubs in Miami, Florida, at 12 midnight EST. It seems that Lady Gaga has outdone herself, especially when she's supporting the LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual, and/or transgender) community and stuff. The "Bad Romance" song and music video has a lot of vibes within the instrumentals and a lot of techno music, even when her fans are in Japan. And when everyone is listening to "Bad romance," it's like driving a Nissan 350Z on the streets of Los Angeles, California, on a Saturday night. "Bad Romance" by Lady Gaga has also been the best music video and hit single everyone's seen and heard, even me. It looks like the entire music scene will be getting and seeing more of Lady Gaga and other female artists, including Ke$ha. Boy, if Lady Gaga were to make more dance-techno music videos for MTV, that would be great. I wish I had all three of Lady Gaga's albums.

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