Tag Archives: Music

Haiku by Issa


Only birds

sing the music of heaven

in this world

An Amazing Performance


There’s hope! This is all I can say when I heard this extraordinary young man sing and play piano. Autism speaks! Autism sings. I worked with autistic young people a few years ago on a special project. I coached adult autistic students to write poetry and find their voices. It was such an enlightening experience for me as an educator. Much more research needs to be done regarding autism. There is no doubt that autism has a spectrum. This performance blew my mind, made me cry and filled me with hope. Enjoy!

The Poet of Rock & Roll


“Roll over Beethoven!” How I loved this line. What a visual for a kid who loved both classical and pop music. The one and only “Chuck Berry, the singer-songwriter and guitarist who was one of the architects of rock ‘n’ roll” passed away yesterday at the age of 90. His style and energy will never be forgotten as he held concerts well into his eighties. The poet of Rock & Roll inspired such artists as the Beatles, The Beach Boys and so many others.

I can imagine the scene today in heaven as he joins some of the great legends we have lost lately like Leonard Cohen, Prince and of course Beethoven himself. Rest in peace Mr. Berry.

Chuck Berry

 

 

 

The Sum of Some Things in My Life


The Sum of Some Things in My Life

If I were to sum up my life
The percentages would not add up
I mean the ultimate percentage
Is supposed to be 100%
But nothing is one hundred percent
Except paying up your taxes.

For sure, twenty percent has been
Physical and emotional pain
Back pain mostly
Giving birth – twice
The pain of loss
So many left me too soon,
Prejudice, hate, war all around
They get to us all some way or another.

Ten percent has been laughter
Life played many jokes on me (sometimes I did not laugh)
Mostly my children made me laugh the most
Quiet smiles,
Soft chuckles,
Quick giggles full of dimples

Another ten percent I allot to passion
Moments of utter ecstasy
My passion for teaching,
Poetry, Art, and social justice.
How passionately I hate hatred
And how I hate to say hate
Or that I hate anything

Twenty percent has been worry
I am the quintessential worry wart
Fear of losing my mind to Alzheimer’s
Always worried about my children, their children
And in today’s crazy world
I worry about all children

Fifty percent has been love
Love dominates my life,
To make the right choices most of the time
Love is never forgotten
Whether it’s …
The love of God (Eternal)
A lost love,
A life-long love,
A child’s love,
A parent’s love,
Or simply self-love
Love is essential, like nature
You can find it anywhere
If you look hard
It is in the stillness
It is in the soul
It is what makes
everything else worthwhile.

Love birds

The Heartbroken Guitar Player


lonely guitar

A few years ago I watched as a young man played a love song inside a subway station in NYC.He seemed so sad as he strummed his guitar.

People dropped coins in his guitar case as they walked by him. The words that stuck in my mind were “Darling, please come back to me.” Today I found the poem I had written about the heartbroken guitar player after I went home that day. I’d forgotten I had put it away to write my love song. I was so touched by his song and his obvious heartbreak.

 

The Guitar Player

 

He held his guitar like a little baby;

Tears ran down his chubby cheeks.

He played his song with all his heart,

telling someone he could not stand to be apart.

 

His fingers caressed the strings

as he had once softly outlined her face.

The audience went crazy;

No one felt out-of-place.

 

After all is there anyone exempt from heartbreak?

Loving just ain’t an easy thing.

No matter what the season but especially in spring.

 

His refrain wanted to mend his mind;

He claimed that girl was only one of a kind.

The sweat and tears kept streaming

from the guitar player’s face

He strummed his guitar with such passion.

I guess he was hoping she would hear his plea

“Darling, please come back to me.”

“Darling, please come back to me.”

 

The audience was standing in ovation;

as the guitar player bowed humbly

but his heart was just an imitation:

that girl had ripped it out the real one miserably.

 

the audience called for an encore

and his voice and his guitar

exclaimed in ecstasy

“Darling please come back to me.”

Darling please come back to me;

Can’t you see what your love has done to me.”

Melba Christie

 

Michael Hoppe


I just recently purchased a CD that is the best instrumental music I have listened to in a long while. I am pretty picky about my music and lately I have been looking for music that inspires me and helps me develop my creativity. I visit this great shop in San Juan, Puerto Rico. I leave there as if I just had a great relaxing massage with lavender oil (my favorite). The women who tends the shop is very knowledgeable about many things regarding Chakra cleaning and keeping in touch with nature.

The CD is by cellist Michael Hoppe. The title is The Poet: Romances for Cello. It contains music played by Mr. Hoppe and they are all inspired by the works of poets Carl Sandburg, A.E. Housman, Robert Frost and others. Mr. Hoppe’s instrumental compositions are spectacular. I have added his website in my links. I get no compensation for this. I simply want to share the peace.

Melba Christie

Puppy Love


Her beautiful contagious smile

can fill a room with sunshine

on the cloudiest day.

But today

is the last day of school,

Her smile is dimmed

By the thought

She will no longer see

The boy she’ s had a crush on

for the entire school year.

It was precisely today

Right after the second period bell rang

loud and clear

That the young man

Finally told her he liked her too.

He gently sat next to her,

As the teacher

Distributed the treats around

The classroom.

Neither was very hungry,

Except for each other’s glances.

 

What are the chances?

they would bump into each other

any time soon.

 

The teacher notices

The looks they exchanged

Their proximity and she thought

She heard their hearts beating

In unison when he managed to

to slightly touch her hand

as he stretched his to get a chip.

 

The teacher knows what is happening

Puppy love is in bloom

The worship is evident in his eyes

reviendra toujours à ses premières amours *

as Freud once expressed

that first love is such a beautiful thing

and dreams will be filled with fantasies beyond fantasy itself.

 

The last period bell is about

To ring and what will it bring

a sweet tap on the lips

a first kiss

a seal of commitment

at least for now

and someone

outside the Italian class

screams, Ciao!!!

 

Do you remember your first puppy love at school?

Paul Anka - Puppy Love lyrics

And they called it puppy love
Oh I guess they’ll never know
How a young heart really feels
And why I love her so

And they called it puppy love
Just because we’re seventeen
Tell them all it isn’t fair
To take away my only dream

I cry each night these tears for you
My tears are all in vain
Oh I’ll hope and I’ll pray that may be some day
You’ll be back in my arms once again

Someone help me,help me please
Is the answer up above
How can I ever tell them
This is not a puppy love

Someone help me,help me please
Is the answer up above
How can I ever tell them
This is not a puppy love

Lyrics | Paul Anka lyricsPuppy Love lyrics

Links:

http://www.lyricsdepot.com/donny-osmond/puppy-love.html

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Puppy_love#cite_note-3 *

 

When We Listen


When We listen

When we listen
we can hear the unspoken words
of the sages of the future

when we listen
the songs of the crickets
are meant to heal our souls

when we listen
we can decipher
the secret whispers
of the butterflies

DSC_1090

Photo by Melba Christie

When we listen
we can hear
the heart strings of a young lover
strumming like an acoustic guitar

when we listen
we can hear
the harp of our soul
playing an opus
to help us become
more aware of who we are

when we listen
there’s no telling
what sounds will resonate
to help us appreciate
the life we take for granted
all the more.

Masterpiece


Hidden in her tiny mind

a masterpiece is waiting

A crowd yells, “encore!”

 

 

 

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