When one’s singing is so awful it requires police intervention, that’s really bad karaoke.
Tag: music
Anthem
Anthem
by Leslie Noyes
Standing tall and proud
Voices raised in joyful praise
An anthem for us
Outside looking in
The disenfranchised hear but
An anthem for some
Until all are free
The lyrics are merely words
An anthem for none
The Invisible Woman
She waved her arms, jumped up and down, but not a single person noticed, even though there were plenty near.
Her bold orange blouse and flamboyant floral jodhpurs, a sight to behold for those who might’ve seen, had
They bothered. A certain age had rendered her transparent, of no apparent interest to the world at large. Their loss,
She thought, launching into a power ballad that threatened to shatter windows. Except no one was listening.
I Still Want to Dance
When the music starts,
when the beat begins,
I still want to move
like I did way back when
My hips find their groove
My feet find the beat
Hands sway in time
And I can’t keep my seat
Lord, I know I’m past the age
Of raising hell on the floor,
But when that downbeat hits
I beg for one dance more.
Snapshot #166
At Disney Springs (once known as Downtown Disney) one can be entertained by this gentleman and his strolling piano. I call this one, “Music that Moves Me.”
Snapshot #151 and a Song
I call this one, “Not-So Long and Winding Road, with Apologies to The Hollies.”
Beach Combers
Beach Combers
by Leslie Noyes
We were the Beach Combers, baby
Barefoot and easy on the eyes
Ripped jeans and plain white tees
Making music; earning sighs
We covered the Beach Boys
Crooned all the smooth tunes
Scattered all the seagulls
Drove the turtles from their dunes.
Lately I’ve been thinking,
Life came easier back then,
But the music now’s much deeper,
And we’re rocking once again.
(Photo courtesy of Robin Garrett, a.k.a. Effron White, one of the original Beach Combers.)
Guaranteed to Make You Dance
Get up. Dance naked in front of the mirror. It’s all good. Ed Sheeran’s in love with your body, why shouldn’t you love it, too?
Sunday Sundae
We went for a ride
In the convertible for
An ice cream sundae
The cloth top was down
But the windows were rolled up
Brisk evening breeze
Weekend’s last hurrah
Radio plays summer’s hit
Dancing On My Own
http://youtu.be/q31tGyBJhRY
Don’t Jump Off a Clef
Praying for Eyebrowz 