#singers
You’re inspired by
works of art
but never your own
you quote the lines
the lyrics the rows of
text the syllables
the symphonies the
tone the noise
the scene the length
the rhythm the end
So why? I ask
Your strange way
It’s off I must
confess, yes.
Your Hemingway
Your Frost
Your Gatsby
Your Expectations
Your Odyssey
Your Interview
Your holy Conclave.
Your society
you love these dead poets so
much but
you’re weary to follow
Your music is a
jagged creek
A stream of anger
romance tragedy
Your rhythm is wrong
Your meter’s a mess
You reference the dirt
six feet under the
ground
You’re no Silverstein
no Rowling no Spielberg
no Nolan no Gibbard
no Yorke no Mercury
you must end it all
You contradict, you’re fake
you write, you’re wrong
you erase, finally.
You’re so ******* sure
but you see the look
in their eyes
the horror the
fear the pity the
smirk
The vinyl comes to
a screeching stop
the paper is ripped
to thin, thin shreds
the screen combusts
flame soaring through the halls
You’re inspired by these authors
these makers these singers
these works of art you
tare apart
their quiet snaps
you only win
when they understand
It’s not their problem,
of course
You’re just too much
All at once
to explain your broken work
you write too much
your worry grows
the window’s open
the air’s not brisk
you have your mind
And that’s enough
you’re no one special
In this big big world.
Jan 30
Jan 30, 2026 at 11:53 PM UTC
Mercurial girl
ethereal in her way
and as such she could not stay
to grace our listening ears for long
she left us with the fragments of her songs
and when the wind blew strong
she could not stand against the gale
that light so bright she held inside began to fail
Sep 11, 2023
Sep 11, 2023 at 10:59 AM UTC
I'm talking about a record label that was founded a long time ago.
It was founded in the early seventies and the label was called RSO.
They were once a very successful corporation.
RSO stood for 'Robert Stigwood Organization'.
When it came to stars like Andy Gibb and Eric Clapton, RSO managed their careers.
RSO was founded in 1973 and sadly, the record label ended after just ten years.
They also managed the careers of Yvonne Elliman and the Bee Gees.
RSO manufactured records about 'The Empire Strikes Back' and 'Return Of The Jedi' before dissolving in 1983.
In 1980, the Bee Gees slapped RSO with a two hundred million lawsuit.
There was a settlement for an undisclosed amount that ended the dispute.
In 1983, many people hated to see them go.
The world is a better place because of RSO.
Jul 19, 2019
Jul 19, 2019 at 6:33 PM UTC
They start as a single
before moving to unity
a chorus of chortles
to those who listen for that
It’s hard not to
when they rehearse in your right ear
and perform in the left
You said that they could
lent them the key
thought about drowning out
with a little symphony
What a ******* mistake that was
Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 10:21 AM UTC
I don't really know if this is cut out for me. I rather go to Colorado in my singing voice* how I wish I was your lover please_ let's respect one another....*
Here are the
stage lights
If you cannot
stand the heat
Bud light
Other seasons
The Four Seasons
Sherry Baby
Delicacies
Diva and Don Perion
Dressed
Navy and bloodshot
Eyes maroon
The fire desire
Only made them
Moon up higher
legacy
The voices
appetizer
Pina Colada
Fireworks Bella Diva
Gondola
Sunrise Prima Donna
Between the Diva
Fireworks outside
Of Lady Madonna
(Moonstruck)
Havana
Fireworks at
her breast
hot singer
editorial
Designer Hermes
scarfed $
Diva she raises
money
Fill in her gaps
Gap Navy
So savvy Honey
Oh! Jesus
Another
genius
Fireman
Rifleman
Joplin
Baby baby
Baby
She stepped
away
from reality
What about
me Robin
I am a singer
World became
my Godly
duty
Miss Mom Judy
The music
All trends
addicted to
shopping
Men %% $
Those Poppins
Pop stars
Robin bob bobbin
along
She's chicken
Avocado
Comando
Chief Fido
Fireworks top
crooks
The safe box
She cooks
crock ***
Aluminum Clad
Potheads
Australian lads
All spread out in
Chickenpox
Egg Foo young
Cream say cheese
Lox Hip Hop
Sugar Daddy
Pops
Collegiate
Quickie talk
((Chatterbox))
The made hit
singers paradox
Calm me, Colorado
Endless voice
Eldorado
Diva had too many
Stars at the sing sing
of Rosy®
At the check coat Sassy
Tommy can you hear me
Her mouth
mento mints
Extreme bossy
**********
(Juicy Pineapple
Dole) her
The singer sways
all over him
Dancing Glove pole
If this is the
last thing
we ever do
Designed for a
Diva with
Jimmy Choo, it's
not a
better life
for me and you
******* coo
Lana Turner,
Turntable 4 the record_____
Tina Turner
What does
loving a Diva
got to do
with this!!
So tramped on
Diva devourer
He's the observer
Maxwell millionaires
Tantalizing tongues
The Canaries
Yellow Solo
Not the goddess the
Diva Luv-a sun
{Ralph Polo]
Little darlings
Vampire
Diaries
The mad
librarian
BLT Diva VIP
The hell of
tinnitus
D=F Damn-Fun
in" D"
Devilology
Diva Fireworks
sanitarium
Disney
aquarium
My sign the
Aquarius
So Forestal Crystal
Forest Hills US
open tennis
We are the
champions
The sexter pistol
wedding ring
Go, Crystal
He compelled her
Divas revolver
Wild thing makes
my heart sing
And his boxers
make me
so closer
Diva solver
Frenzy firecracker
pleaser
Who is ready to vote
Songs wanted
love pusher
Diva's eyes
Maybelline
Maybe all lined
Stadium of voices
titanium
The Diva to
be resold
Too many songs
were sold
Wife trophy
Platinum had
a voice tone
Diva Grand
Marnier
He's the
connoisseur
of mouth's
experimental
Mentally
He tricks you
Singing horse
you just know
won't trick you
A singer is like
a horse
Wizard of Odd
Moms many colors
performances
This land is your
land from
California but
the Diva Islands
flipping
Las Vegas
Nothing is
guaranteed
((Lady GaGa))
Your out
Haha
Stay upright
lights down
out of sight
Brooklyn Blackout
Cake Ebinger
We were eating
Singing and Guessing
Diva sucker
lollipops
Panic at the disco
To run him over
What R the odds
Getting even road
Steven the Cosmos
The singing
highway
project
Robin was
from Bayview
Project
All Adultery
Bills
Clintons Mastery
No Susie
homemaker
Hilariously singing
Shining like the
shoemaker
Sitting at
the pub
She ordered a
hot steaming
Spa voice
The Egyptian
grains
of love sand
Medler
Fergie Google
Ben Stiller
Singer just
pill her
burlesque
So Cher-like
if I could
change back
the time I would
do it anyway
Jumping Diva
Kangaroo pouch
Too much Diva
Ouch_----
Joe DiMaggio
fireworks of *****
Big wiggle
Opera
Marilyn Monroe
The Phantom
Of *** appeal
Propaganda_____
Blowing off
competition
nails
But__ dying inside
like a deadlight
Sparkle me
*** lights
That voice
signals
"Neon Nights"
ooh la the
Eifel tower
bowed her
Moonstruck
striking
wallet high Kicking
wages
Got her voice back
to be shot in stages
Her revolver
eight days a week
The real voice
never take
for granted
Genie
The Diva Luv
in her SUV
She was still
singing
And he wasted
his
whole
dinner
But I got
my voice back
Singing
She let her heart out
He turned his head
He said what a stunner
May 5, 2018
May 5, 2018 at 3:56 PM UTC
From Alan Lomax to the commercial art and now the money machine.
At the turn of the century; when sound recording 1st became available to the masses, recording a song was an opportunity for folk to reach out; and tell the world something up front and personal.
It meant that people were able to put themselves on “The record” A way of leaving a permanent audio statement, an epitaph, an audio sound bite immortalising ~ life, mood, emotion captured and bottled for all eternity.
(A medium that conveyed messages from artists and storytellers of all kinds)
A recording was also a great addition to "The family album" something more tangible, a window to a real person, with a real life, a message and a point of view; a legacy, a blast from the past.
Few people expected sound prints to be re-designed, homogenised, formulated, copied, repackaged and that art and the message would be played over and over again by new artists in the form of "cover music" or that the style of the messages would become secularized, seperated into distinctive groups, or constrained by an elite clique or commercial genre.
Labelling and streamlining art & music mostly benefits the commercial art & music industry; and no longer the artists and creators.
I've no problem with good business, or the multi-billion pound industrys that have gained commercial success.
However the process of mass homogenisation, product synthesis, marketing, streamlining and then packaging fashion, sound and synthetic culture to sell a product, leaves very little room for creative people to just be creative.
A medium originally open to many for self expression, a historical record, an archive, a voice, a personal message;
Is now just a vehicle for advertising and perpetuating a genre of nonsense, so much so that there is now more white noise immortalised than messages.
To re-cap ~ I Think that creativity and expressionism; like story telling conveys moods and messages from the present and past!
Artists and musicians should have the opportunity to create and produce more information than they copy; thus creating a richer more colourful tapestry, whilst not devaluing the message of their predecessors!
Purcy Flaherty.
Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 10:38 AM UTC
It’s emotion, my business
I sing songs
Mostly about love
My job is to move the audience
To smiles or a tear
Make people snuggle up
Hold hands, disappear
Into a state of kindness and grace
I try to bring joy to each happy face
What about me?
Well, I’m just like you
I’m a fan of many
Those who croon
Who give life meaning
Who nurture the soul
When I need to dig deep
It’s where I go
So when I hear a special song
I smile and sigh, and find in my eyes
Condensation, a misty memory
That takes me back and aback
At the feeling that comes over me
When music entertains the heart
And yet again, emotion conquers me
Oct 28, 2017
Oct 28, 2017 at 2:26 PM UTC
Are you a cat or bird,
devil or saint?
Villain and victim, dichotic romantic,
bruised and beaten, ostracised.
Bruised and beaten, demonised.
A willow bending against cruel fashion's wind.
A thousand storms of impotent hate,
jealousies and malignant complaints.
Rain like sonnets before the deaf!
As your gifts are pearl before swine.
And yet thy brow is regal still.
The profile of a demon prince -
no matter what shape taketh the face.
Be thou Quasimodo or Adonis by fate.
Whose smile has lit a thousand candles
in thankless, bitter hearts,
and fires in the hearths of freaks
who need but a spark to break the leash.
Or art thou Prince of Cats?
Yearning for the freedom to roam, to hunt.
Seeking pleasure, his mistresses pats.
The enemy of closed doors and cold paws.
Or could thou be a bird?
Clipped wings, a gilded cage,
whose song can only go so far.
If not let to glide into the night, to rise,
to greet the dawn with bleary, satisfied eyes.
Of one who has been given the chance to soar!
Or else to wilt, and yowl no more.
Dec 26, 2015
Dec 26, 2015 at 9:25 PM UTC
"Mom, mom," calls Susie
back home after school
in her new spurt of teenage energy
*"I've decided:
when I grow up
I'm going to be a pop singer"*
"But sweetheart," says mom,
the cool one
classy at all times
"You know you can't do both"
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 7:27 AM UTC
while I may do you perfectly. the snow angels on gasoline st., did you
see them? All of the houses were dripping wet too, one girl with gold laces on her leopard shoes wore red plastic pants; totally soaked to the bone.
to train ourselves to brave the heat of each others' bodies as we awaken in one small bed, one small blanket. the both of us yawn. it's so fun to make waffles but neither of us like to eat preference. I love you to death but prefer to brush my teeth alone- one tooth at a time.
embrace your new t-shirt, even though not everyone enjoys a good show of a flock of crows. hand drawn indie wicker-hipster prints. coffee by the pint. you crack me up like vitrifying glass sheens of the individual bubbles in a bubble bath or the ****** glazed eyes of the monsters' eye while a shark attacks.
creaky sounds of bodies mapped by fingers, tickled tummies rippled by listening to witch house singers. you crack me up, count chocula. It's Saturday, I love to laugh while laying down. everybody's funnier when they're laying on the ground. we toast to ghosts.
luminous lengths of birthday candles
lickediddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd d 0 y0urself as best you can
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 3:55 AM UTC