Long Woodwinds Poems
Long Woodwinds Poems. Below are the most popular long Woodwinds by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Woodwinds poems by poem length and keyword.
intro's*********Fretboard two tenors-two bass-two aucstic************
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pling,plung,pling:pling,plinka plung-whump-woomb
pling,plung,pling:pling,plinka plung-awhump-woomb
pling,plung,pling:pling,plinka plung-whoomp-woomb
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lead in for the strings and rythmn
voilens and chellos and the woodwinds
big drums included roll right in there
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then
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whoomp-whoomp-whoom!
pling-plung-plung-ginka-plinka-pling-plung
plinka-plinka-pling-plungg,plinka plung
plung-plinka-plinka-pling-plungg,plinka plung
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them horns
--------shrill------
shrilling brasses makes intro to the vocals
bass and tenors stil strumming
the bass full and the tenors tuned in the treble like harmony
but that bass-bassground sound moving thangs along!
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down tempo ,narrative that is intense on expression
giving the artist a showplace for vocal creativty
auh-ooh auh's and ooh-we-ooh's
" I want to impress her with my gentlmenly manners
so I crossed the boudoir to unzip heer dress
she lifted her hair up
allowing me to kiss her neck
the possible opion was to kiss her mouth
things wern't normal until breakfast. She called me at lunchtime
to make arrange,memnets for supper that evening.
Candy and flowers
and my tuxedo
we spent the night
on a crusie ship in the harbor."
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Written by:Cabaletta clarion
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a specific vibe of downtempo R&B, soul,,
or chill funk music centered around an
incredibly prominent, warm bassline
Folks more sophisticated than me might say I ain't got no couth, I suppose,
But I ain't a fan of Bach, Liszt and Mozart nor the music they compose!
Spare me the screechin' violins, growlin' cellos and twitterin' piccolos,
The rumblin' bassoons, the thunderin' timpani and the odious oboes!
Seems the woodwinds, strings, brass and percussion do their own thing,
Renderin' ramblin' and atonal piffle - no pleasure to mine ear doth it bring!
I'd rather listen ad infinitum to Elva Ruby Miller's shrill and off-key renditions,
Than suffer the agony of a two-hour symphony by professional musicians!
Music is God
and songs worship
Music.
In appreciation of the
composers skills
one might look to
God for inspiration.
False Gods collaborate
throught
the concentration of plagiarism
they look to speak to many
and gather the attention of all
in worship of both
Music and song
they structure
melonic hamonies
in music intro,
lyric chourus and in
lyric prechorus
with sounds that overlap the other
that combine both treble and bass
sounds structure
sequences
with pitches that introduce and reintroduce
both verse and chorus.
lovers of bass often sooth the foreground sound
by having deep tones that neither moves
the groove or
harmony.
it often draws both sounds together
by
meeting the strings, woodwinds
and percussion in
combination
that meets to sound as one
and moves away
and becomes the regular
sound of the song.
Often said the different parts of
a song tells you when the song
began and when it will end.
e cosi cha le persone
si incontrano e si
innamorano
Gaffaz's largest bowl holds twenty cups of flour
she has six of the same size.
the recipe she needs asks for 60 cups
how many bowls of the same size
wil Gaffaz need if the recipe ask for 120 cups?
Angels Sing
I hear them,
all the time.
When I pick up my child,
and hold her close,
her breath…
Harps; lovely,
faraway,
and distant.
When I go to my grandmothers,
and clean her kitchen,
all afternoon,
while she teaches me,
how to make,
cornbread and beans…
the right way.
Violins and soft flutes,
as she smoked for 60 years.
She is dying,
My heart is crying,
but the woodwinds are respectful…
of her years, if not my tears.
When I go to my loves grave,
and stand beside the small flag,
I can hear the band,
playing Rock Songs,
favorite one time hits,
and the Star Spangled Banner!
The vocals, on high,
Every word a blessing
to the family,
you left behind.
The freedom to listen,
The freedom to sing,
to laugh and pray,
about everything!
The Band Concert
It was not a typical musical concert on an indoor stage,
but a marching band concert—and a very special one to me.
I sat with family on bleachers that sunny day as
the glorious band’s thunderous sounds filled my ears,
and my chest vibrated wildly with the powerful music
from brass, woodwinds, percussion, and resounding drums.
As my heart beat in sync with the strong pounding rhythm,
such deep patriotic emotion fully engulfed me, and I
could feel my heart fill up with pride as it beat with
the thrill of that music and with the vision of those great
young men and women in huge formations, marching
on their way to receive diplomas and off to serve our country.
Then I saw him, our dear son, marching within that "Long Gray Line",
stepping in unison with fellow classmates to that awesome music.
The wondrous relentless rhythm from those drums and horns,
together with the artistic and intricate merging formations,
engulfed my whole being as tears filled my eyes with pride and joy—
on that special day—at that one-time special event—in May 1981...
Sandra M. Haight
~2nd Place~
Contest: Any Poem Written in 2015
Sponsor: Laura Loo
Judged: 07/16/2016
~Honorable Mention~
Contest: The Concert
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Judged: 06/10/2015
Alone amongst a forest of foreboding trees
I hear restless rustling of whispering leaves
they rise and fall, are held captive among
the windy utterances of an ancient tongue.
Wild words can be heard, like woodwinds, disturbed
cloaked and rooted in time, their meanings preserved
I listen as I roam, through stoic, staunch groves
as I try to discern the deep secrets they know.
Do I hear woodsy lyrics of timeless songs?
I move to mysterious tunes and sway along
as mist rolls into the forest and blankets the earth
I feel the heartbeat of trees and their endless worth.
Written on 5/16/2022
He looked beyond those flaws
To gain the needed
understanding which was
Required to fix those flaws
That made the sound of a
Great song more perfect,
More defined and more
Liked, loved and needed.
His study of natural things
Like animals, streams, and
Storms, lead him to look
At making the song more
Rythmic and flowing.
Wanting each instrument
To compliment the other
And not having an audience
Miss when certain instruments
Weren't used in certain spots.
He would have the string accompany
Each exit and would have woodwinds
To introduce each rythmic change.
Bassy enough to move you
And treble enough to invite you.
Loud enough to mean business
But queit enough to allow
The songstresses and singers
To be heard.thus to make perfect
The intro beganing and the
Exitiously end..A pause to
Start each stanza, momentously
Enough to let the persucions
Perseade the need of a new
Beganning.
This must be done to create
The perfection needed to rework
Lyrics from interpret scripts.
And needed to allow a smooth
Flow in each translation.
I found a letter from December 5 1865
The address was written to
Fleckez Fintezy
of Zist Kandia
we looked up the place and found it to be unknown.
It stated dear Sir: my name needs not to be spoken as to your obligation
in contract to meet me and concort as my partner in a contractaul aranggment.
as to this we must chose
a genre: discuss situation.
Contract woodwinds, brass sections: and percussionist.
I am a pianist and wish to
create first during dicsion
and then to record our sound
and then to compse and arrange the sounds before
we have a lyritist create the
rhythmn and then the rhymn.
The
flow of the arrangment
must be of importance as the Beat must
jive with the sounds and the need
of the people we are to workwith.
I shall make arrangements to sleep across town
as the excitment of a collabaration
might be such that would two people
see something that might
lead to being foolishly in love.
I will introduce myself, with my violen
might you will find it easier to recognize me.
We can meet at the Inn by the bridge.
There we will Swing, Jazz and Jewel!
A consortment of Fluffers might wish to
meet us: but we
are professional enough
to know the difference between indulgment and fun: right?
I will mneet you there and musixc can be created!
Be Prompt
Sincerly Yours
Mizzo Piano Songtra
From Whoompers Delicouness
Duration 18 minutes
69 seconds.
Men Knutez and Seakuntez speak with the Organist!
Only he knows the Bassoon. I find it interesting
that the flutist
and the oboist concorts
in private don't you?
Rather amusing until the sound
is created right?
He wishes to marry: pour: pour woman.
His muses must be fun!
The Witches of Garais or
the Strega opened an area
centered in a bean feild
were they invited men from around the world
to join the Opera Orchastra
The Muses of Men the would
have them to perform as they would rate
there performance and likiblity
based on there trainiblity to the styles they saw fit.
The boiled fatted pork until
it was lard and the renderings became cracklings
and then were made into puffed rines
the seasoned them with spices and sugar
and crunched them as they sipped beer and other
cultural fermeants.
The words didn't matter as long as
the instruments were recognizible and the sound was simulaur to
what the song that played had started.
Thequeeks and quarks and the chinks of strings and
woodwinds were often muffled by the snares and drum rythmic sounds that often were louder than the brasses and electric guitars
a tuba player stood in front of a waiting
group of musicains and asked them
to sound off together
he acted like the conducter and got them to
play a song together
the Witches heard this
and called the auditions off and told the section of sixty nine
they had conveinced them they were best by being able
to come together and do the thing asked of them!
This morning weighs more than it should
a preponderance of sorrow and joy
about what I have and what I lost
and the moon to the west hides before the storm.
Astronomers say the universe, too, weighs
more than it should. It bears a dark presence.
I know I must let go of the love I’ve known
to put it in its time and place.
A side street lies in front of my house—
I’ve travelled many highways and roads
I’ll never forget.
I’ll always remember what brought me here.
Thunder rumbles over the hills
on a quiet morning as I sit at my laptop.
I write after I watch a video
of Ben Folds composing a song
for an orchestra in time minutes.
He lays melodies for the string section
upon melodies for woodwinds and brass
and he sings as the composition
comes to life.
My memories whisper as the screen fades
Clouds obscure the sky
and I long for much-needed rain.
A small sliver of atmosphere
hugs the earth and bears the change
just below vast darkness and bands of stars.
Rain patters the window as I sit
in a dim room and write
and I embrace what I compose
allowing my poem to possess
before I turn on the light.
The clothes dryer in the back hallway hums
as I wear my underwear and robe.
As the world around me lives and dies
I am looking for stars.
*Ben Folds— a pop music performer, pianist, and composure of classical music