They say he played the violin
With a sound that roused the spirit.
I traveled far, o’er hill and dale
Hoping just to hear it.
I was trulydisappointed
When I finally met the fellow,
For he played not the violin,
But the world’s smallest cello.
Tag Archives: Music
Variety
I went to a fancy restaurant
On the other side of Vermont.
The air outside was a silent mist,
While within was a wandering violinist.
The atmosphere was nice, for sure,
But the cliche was hard to endure.
So just once in every while
A wandering trombone would make me smile.
Filed under Poems
Pockets of Society
In her pockets
Are red lipstick,
A makeup mirror,
And a guitar pick.
She’s got a swiss army knife,
A wilted daisy petal,
And an mp3 player
Full of heavy metal.
My pockets used to hold
Similar stuff
‘Til I gave up on pants.
Now I live in the buff.
Filed under Poems
The Observers
There once were some NSA agents
Who wanted to start a band.
They dreamed everyone would watch them
Across their secure homeland.
One of the guys played the data bass,
And another tapped all the drums.
One filled out forms in the corner
And the boss just twiddled his thumbs.
And so formed the band, “The Observers.”
They lacked talent, but had admins galore.
They became a huge thing overnight,
Perfect for the news to ignore.
They sang of bureaucracy’s beauties
And of what you did in 2005.
They had mosh pits called “internet forums”
Wherever they concerted live.
The Observers still play on the weekends;
It’s a sensible thing to do
To get them pumped up for another week
Of the best show in town (which is you).
In unrelated news, I’m enjoying my stay on the “do not fly” list.
Filed under Poems
When the Music Left the Elevator
The melody took to the sky
Carrying passengers as it soared.
It sang with all its passionate grace,
Yet the busy humans snored.
Later, the song descended.
Its calming chord still blares
Throughout the box for people
Uninclined to take the stairs.
The saxophones and drum set
Make monotony so sweetly
But the elevator’s patrons
Tune out its song completely.
So the melody went sideways
To where the unsmelled flowers go
And lived its quiet style of life
Under the uncounted stars aglow.
And those that rode that metal box
Just heard the elevator’s hissing
And they stared at the lights, unspeaking,
Unaware what they were missing.
Filed under Poems
99 Bottles Later
I used to own a bar
Until the choir came to town.
They’d had an iffy concert
And they had sorrows to drown.
So they said, “How ’bout a beer?”
And from the wall I took one down.
I gave it to a tenor
Who then passed it aroun’.
And so this was repeated
For nearly a hundred bottles
With the choir singing all throughout,
Their dance reduced to tottles.
And then they left. My walls were bare.
My alcohol was gone.
But the thing I’ll never ever forget
Was that god-forsaken song.
Filed under Poems
Arr, ye Sol Ti Do!
Ray’s cow chewed her cud
Amidst the mud,
While Ray looked on with wonder.
While I, Captain Jack
Snuck round the back.
Their farm I sought to plunder.
Alas Ray raised
A herd of deer
To guard his home from a pirate.
That’s the ballad
of Doe, Ray, and Me
And it makes me feel irate!
Filed under Poems
Summer, 4 AM
Such beauty there is in silence,
And in the sounds of Earth.
The songs of birds and crickets
Are of inestimable worth.
Yet beauty can be terrible,
And becomes so without warning
Like when you’re late night homework
And the birds sing that it’s morning.
Filed under Poems
Old-Time Religion
There is something inherently scary
About playing an organ late at night.
Might be Hollywood cliche,
But it still causes some fright.
There’s nothing scary at all
About a piano at midday.
It’s just one of those things
You don’t care about either way.
An accordion is happy
Anytime at all.
That’s why I go to an accordion church
That just happens to be at the mall.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 