Where the Poem Stops and the Lyrics Begin

The rain continues…one can only hope the water table is being replenished by this slow drizzle, gradually percolating down through the soil, and (as a teacher of mine once bitterly pointed out), drowning all the worms. Gloomy weather makes me want to curl up with tea, poetry, and, you guessed it, folk music, so here are today’s recommendations for all of those things–

Tea:
-Good Earth’s Original “Sweet and Spicy” blend
-Tazo’s Full Leaf Chai (a black, not green, tea)
-Newman’s Own Green Tea (I know it sounds crazy, but I like its flavor!)
-Yogi Tea’s Lemon Ginger green tea (excellent for when you have sinus congestion, affectionately called “iron lung” tea by my close relations)
-Stash’s Breakfast Blend
-and Lipton as the old standby…but only consumed cold.

and poetry? Today, I have a Walt McDonald poem stuck in my head, and there’s something so folky about it, I feel like it could/should be a folk rock song–

The Waltz We Were Born For

I never knew them all, just hummed
and thrummed my fingers with the radio,
driving five hundred miles to Austin.
Her arms held all the songs I needed.
Our boots kept time with the fiddles
and the charming songs of blondes,

the whine of steel guitars
sliding us down in deer-hide chairs
when jukebox music was over.
Sad music’s on my mind tonight
in a jet high over Dallas, earphones
on channel five. A lonely singer,

dead, comes back to beg me,
swearing in my ears she’s mine,
rhymes set to music that make
her lies seem true. She’s gone
and others like her, leaving their songs
to haunt us. Letting down through clouds

I know who I’ll find waiting at the gate,
the same woman faithful to my arms
as she was those nights in Austin
when the world seemed like a jukebox,
our boots able to dance forever,
our pockets full of coins.

And speaking of music that could be poetry…today’s a Sam Beam kind of day, and I don’t mean some long-lost cousin of Jim Beam, though I suppose it’s entirely possible.
I mean Sam Beam of the Iron and Wine variety. Not folk-rock so much as folk-thought, but “Naked As We Came” has been wandering listlessly in my mind, so I urge you to get it stuck in yours by visiting FreeIndie.com http://www.freeindie.com/folk/ and enriching your mp3 collection with ‘im. While you’re on that page, check out the rest of the groups too, they all have SOMETHING delicious to offer.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Espen Stenersrød- From Pen To Heart

Jack Kerouac with a scent of Henry Vaughn

Poems & People

what if poems could be symphonies, and people their orchestra?

poetry by skull

The Musings of N. E. Skull

Slightly Ignorant

Ilana Masad Writes

One Manner of Hunger or Another

Poetry, Stories, and the Written Word: the works of Bill Johnston

jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Ray Ferrer - Emotion on Canvas

** OFFICIAL Site of Artist Ray Ferrer **

The Neighborhood

society online's social conscious

Its an Anywhere Road

The Travels and Trials of Wild People in a Wild World

James Stewart Jr

My thoughts & activities

What Seems Ordinary..

Rediscover the Glamour

The Product Poet

Your Home For Prose and Poems

Comfortable Slippers

Poems, and Wee Bundles of Words by Jim C. Mackintosh

Björn Rudbergs writings

Poetry and fiction by a physicist from the dark side

%d bloggers like this: