Tag Archives: music

River of Flowers

Like jasmine, I tremble,
afraid of my father,
the swan of the village
covered in snow.

In the river of dreams,
I collect blue lotus
with a careless hand,
and I laugh like a bird.

We call together,
my friend and I,
we call the roses
and they come to us,

fleeing the current,
under the canopy of
my father, his white
and terrible wing.

 

 

 

After The Flower Duet, from the opera Lakmé, by Léo Delibes. Many thanks to my friend Jud for adding some class to this whole affair! If you’re like me, you won’t know this piece by its title, but you will recognize it starting at about 1:20. For one thing, it was used in a British Airways commercial, which inspired this great parody! (Really, you should watch it.) Back to the piece itself … It’s gorgeous, and I’m so glad I spent some time with it today. There are many, many other performances available, but if you need subtitles and studied French at some point, you might enjoy the one I chose.

Standard

Be on My Side

There is no reason for you to hide.
I shot my baby over the rainbow.
They dragged the river bottom,
but she was not there. I shot her
dead. I dragged her to the quarry;
I threw her in. I buried her under
gravel and clay. I worked all night.
I walked away from my baby; I
walked along the river, where the
weeds grow tall—tall enough to
cover everything. Tall enough for
us to hide. There’s still time for us
to get away. Are you on my side?
Are you on my side, or do you
need to take a rainbow ride?
I could drag you anywhere.

 

 

Today’s creepy request, Neil Young & Crazy Horse’s “Down by the River,” was from my friend and possible distant cousin-in-law, Tom Cavicchia. Nothing like a good murder ballad on a Saturday night … If you have a request, please let me know in the comments. Thanks!

 

Standard

Make Another Man Sing

Uncle Charlie is the one man who weeps
like a dove lapping at cream. Feel it:
the power of love in his wings,

the steel wings of his DMC-12.
“Tougher than diamonds,” he says.
“Tougher than diamonds, and hard as

a dream.” It’s like a train, the guitar solo—
to a time before credit cards, when he
was poor, but everything sufficed.

 

 

 

 

 

After “The Power of Love,” by Huey Lewis & The News, as requested by John Allen Richter.

My base was this one — because if you’re going to watch this video, you might as well watch it with the full intro. And then I watched this one because I’ve decided to allow myself to consult the lyrics of the songs I’m writing about. And then I finished with this one, which is just the song, minus lyrics and lengthy preamble.

Requests? Let me know in the comments. Thanks!

Standard

Differences in the Wind

Take a walk with me;
I will show you Chewbacca things,
how trees have rings.

Inside.
The inside of things.

Thump my chest.
It won’t hurt me.
I am a particular kind

 of melon.

These are leaves.
Kick them and they scatter

like railroad tracks when the train

is coming, rolls over, clicks off
clattering to somewhere.

This is the sun in the wind.
Sometimes you can’t tell
the difference, which one
is touching your face.

I wonder if you’ll remember me
more than you’ll remember the wine?

Its sharp taste, that sourness of sun
and time. That thunder of wind

and time.

I tap and release you;
you fly away.

Oh, the differences
in different times.

 

 

After “Dark Star” by the Grateful Dead, as requested by my friend Dan. I strongly preferred this performance, which is longer but prettier. In the last couple of stanzas, you might see influences from this one. Listening to the two very different versions probably gave me the “differences” theme.

All this month, I’m writing poems based on songs. Have a request? Great! Please mention it in the comments.

Standard

Lies in Your Eyeliner

Damn it, I’m the guy in shades,
and I will not have this masquerade,
these costumes and red lipstick,
these ladders of night.

This mattress brings no rest,
only steam from the radiator
that lives in my mind, fills
every moment with its heat.

Oh, no. You stamp my visa
again and again: DENIED.
Oh, no, you keep me here,
in a hallway of violins.

You deceive me; I wonder if
there are lies in your eyeliner,
lines of your story that you keep
inside your hat. I keep my lines

to myself, behind these bars.
I can’t hurt you; don’t be afraid.
Give me back my switchblade—
I want to show you my visions.

 

 

Inspired by Corey Hart’s “I Wear My Sunglasses at Night,” requested by my friend Malissa. Do you have a request? Let me know in the comments!

Standard

All Right for a Girl (after “Brand New Key,” by Melanie)

I roll around the world,
the lonely round world,
and I sing in a different key.
I jolt awake and see that  
I’ve been skating all night,
trying to reach your door.
My bicycle rides without me
sometimes. You’ll find it
under your window
one morning, when I am
least myself, and most,
when I am not driving,
but walking, not singing,
only talking—
talking to myself
about you, or how
everyone says
I’m doing all right,
for a girl.

 

 

If it’s Tuesday p.m., check out Open Link Night at dVerse Poets. Also, I’ve started a month-long series in which I’ll write a poem based on a different  song each day. (Here’s the one that inspired today’s poem.) If you have a request (any style, any song, any artist), please let me know in the comments. Thanks!

Standard

Town Shoes (after Jimi Hendrix’s 12 String Blues)

Gonna buy this town
a new pair of town shoes;

then it can walk around
while I take the train.

Gonna take this town apart;
gonna put it in my pocket.

My pocket has a hole in it;
it matches my heart.

Oh, little girl, I’m scared.
I’m scared to do it again,

I’m scared to be on film,
I’m scared to be big—

but now I can’t, no,
I can’t stay small.

 

 

This poem kicks off a month in which I’ll write at least one poem a day, and each based on a specific song. I’m not going to post all of them, but I thought I should start things off by sharing this first one. It’s based on a recommendation from John Allen Richter that I listen to Jimi Hendrix for inspiration. I enjoyed this low-key Hendrix song and was struck by how humble he is here, considering that he was a musical genius.

It took me a while to figure out if I was basing the poem on the performance, the artist, the lyrics, or what, and to get over being spooked by the idea that I had to somehow do the song or the artist justice. I think that was first-time jitters, and also, ekphrasis is not my strong suit.

Anyway … John has also suggested this one, which I think will be fun. I am taking requests, if you haven’t already heard. If there’s a song you think I should base a poem on in some way this month, please let me know in the comments. Thanks!

Standard

I’m Taking Requests: A Month of Poems Based on Songs

After a recent flurry of submissions, which resulted in poems forthcoming here, here, and here (but still no chapbook), I’ve decided I need to have another month where all I do is write. Theme months were fun in January (persona poems mainly about fracking) and March (knotty thoughts about religion), so I thought I’d try another one for September.

The most recent poem I posted here included a line from Alice Cooper. Fellow poet blogger John Allen Richter suggested I listen to more Alice Cooper, or some Jimi Hendrix. I’m taking him up on that and will expand the idea from there: I’ll spend all of September writing poems based on particular songs.

Some, I might have some associations with already. Others might have certain lyrics that might spark something. For others, it might be the sound or the overall feeling that generates the idea. But each day, I’ll write a poem that is based in some way on a song.

Also, I’m taking requests.

In the comments, please name one song you’d like me to write about. This one and this one have already been requested, but other than that, I’m open to any song, any style. It just has to be a specific artist and/or song, and fairly readily available. I’ll write them in the order I get them, and I won’t turn any down until I reach a yet-to-be-determined cut-off point (maybe 60 maximum).

I’m not going to post the entire month’s worth, but I’ll blog each Tuesday as usual. If you would like to see the whole series or your song’s poem in particular, let me know and we’ll work something out. (I’m trying to avoid “previously publishing” all of them here, lest any of them turn out to be submittably good.) 

So … The request line is now open!

Standard

Orbit

What goes around … comes
so many times, you begin
to get sick of it, frankly.

Everything repeats
sooner or later; life runs
on invisible wheels

that are easy to feel
spinning under you
if you’re not too

brokenhearted
to feel anything but
your brokenness.

So what? It’s easy to forget
the cycles that run us,
when it seems as if

everything moves forward,
not in circles, after all. I like it,
the illusion that we’re each

walking somewhere, or
that any of us is able
to hold still, ever.

“I will wait,” we say. But
there is no waiting, only transit,
on our loop around the sun.

For NaBloPoMo and PAD Challenge, Day 21 (prompt: write a poem incorporating five random song titles).

Standard