Pity the poor syllable in the phrase that pops these days
It's stretched and bent until it's rent in oh so many ways
It's hard to see the melody in the score that's tortured so
It's an attack that hails from way back in days of yesteryear
If opera is what led to this, I guess that's why we're here
But Chuck was full of word play in his day and yet instructed
Improvisation shouldn't lead to the point where melody's obstructed
Vocal coaches in the ballpark should leave us thus reminded
Warm-ups are for stretching… lest technique's lost to the wind-up
I speak in tutored rhyme schemes
of a world etched in wild dreams
deep red hue as ample phrase
from my voice that worldly maze
Lyric torrent’s golden twang
versed in magic tone I sang
pouring heaven on a page
laced with bright notes to assuage
Mellifluous Meandering Madrigal
Written By:
Traducir Al Spaniel'
A.K.A El Alborotado
-----------------------------------
To support all of this emotion
to take everything in stride
to up lift to and to encourage
put all that doubt and envy aside
how can go on saying
when so many want me o fail
hold my head up and keep on stibing
hoping one day I would prevail
Keep me grooving to the music
gone darling do your thang
breakfast was so delicious
Darling you treat me like a King
about yesterday I apologize
but don't keep doing that sorta thing
Your Ole man
started hushing
stopped talking when I came around
he get up when I started sitting
acting like he didn't want me around
his actions both subtle and overt
had an impact on everything
made me feel like ah fifth wheel
put a dark cloud on everything
got mad and started cussin
that's not a nice or respectful thing
got in the way of our performance
putting a damper on everything
now I'm ah red eyed stranger
a tear drop fell in my beer
all that cussin and fussin
is such annoyance
it put's ah damper on everything
Fingers so sore from learning the chords,
Getting the rhytme without knowing the words.
It all sounds so good here in my head,
Blood from my fingers turning the fret board red.
But I've got to keep trying, just carry on,
Or the thoughts that inspired me will be lost and all gone.
I've got to decide on the ideal key,
And think about where the verse and the middle eight will be.
The words that I write will probably change,
They all have to be within my own vocal range.
Some songs take ages and some not so long,
But eventually I will have another hit song?
while being vocal
we found point which was focal
of a local yocal
I love you lady, singing velvet night sky,
singing azure violet wounded woolen stitch.
I love your lady quavering haunting cry,
intoning shades of purple in fevered pitch.
I love you lady, even trilling, scraping in torment,
your voice straining oppressed about strange fruit.
I love you lady dear star teaching your malcontent,
piping broken lyrics, imparting pain so acute.
I love you lady, you never knew a childhood,
you never rendered a cyan song the same way.
I love you lady, though you think my love no good,
it is you with whom I walk in the rain, preternatural every day.
Flame of Harlem, you gave so much to live. I listened, and I cried,
always my cherished one, so tragic how young you died.
The vocal coach will help my voice,
He’ll help me sing, it was my choice.
I turned up there with just myself,
He politely enquired about my health.
He asked if I could sing a note,
I obliged once I’d cleared my throat.
He looked and said ‘you cannot sing,
Next time you’re voice you’ll need to bring,’
I told him that was all I had
And he just said, ‘well that’s too bad!
Butterfly box
In your throat a box of sound
To your human being bound
Take a breath and spark a chord
So your beings’ needs emplored
Of a mind filled with thought
Lips are a net with which they’re caught
Resonating in space with boundless meaning
What are senses perceiving, without speaking?
In a mindless jabber, remember this thing
Like wind formed from a butterflies wing
The box can make one laugh and sing
Or hurt and death it can also bring.
When a mind, a heart and soul combined
True words to your spirit you will find
In your throat lay a butterfly box
Filled with life, and sings in flocks.
the me-too movement was started by young black women lacking social
opportunity...the media turned that into 'sex between the stars'...now,
while there is quite lewd and gross modern music, the blind fish in the
tank are lobbying against old style vocal-poetry to take it off the radio:
(try to write poetry that sounds like this)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jMHS6D8tFvE
you're not sick you're just in love
stan sand
stoic
calm
tragic-
brief cries
from the shadows
of patient silence:
a lament-
a definitive mirror
into the smothered
recesses
of the mind
When my chest splits out come the crows
Where they land nobody will know
I ripped my heart out the scars will show
Where they pitch is all in fate
Life for me is far too late
Observe the crows as they claw and peck their way out
Cover your ears to ignore my shout
Or sit and watch my blood erupt as a gory spout
Sit in awe as they tell you my tale
If I said it myself i am sure to fail
Hear them cry out for some help
And witness me slowly get dragged down to hell
Sit in wonder whilst they tear me apart
As a reminder for how unsuccessful I was to mend my heart
Watch the marvel of the blood red feathers
Gust through the wind until they may find another
When they do they'll crawl inside tear the chest open to build a nest so they have a place to reside
Until the time come it happens again they'll rip you from the inside out
And then the bloodworks start over once more
The pain will be seen once more makes you feel empty as they tear their to come out to explore
vocal drapes draped
casualties blindfolding fate
marauder lipstick shaped
kiss kiss kiss
vocal drapes
?
A singer's life is far from free
who would know more about it than me ?
Late hours and circles under the eyes
flowers and perfume and so many guys
peering and watching the moving of hips
hoping they'd listen to sounds from the lips
the pounding and hearing of drums in the ears
has made me half deaf over the years
the glittering dresses cost so much
rough to the skin and to the touch
I sing a lot and drive and roam
I guess there's just no place like home
Speak
to me
aloud
those
words
your
heart
has
just
found
as
your
voice
fills
my
ears
we
cojoin
and
create
forever
sounds
in me
a
unison
of feelings
an
intercourse
of minds
birthed
as a
child
imbilically
linked
forever
this
voice
memory
to
recall
at will
as
I
refresh
your
refrain
again
and
again
Hear me read my free
verse
A LABOUR OF LOVE @
http://youtu.be/GiD8JdYi-j
w
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