Saturday, April 4, 2015

One Through Five: Playlist for April 3, 2015

CLICK HERE TO LISTEN TO THE PODCAST OF THIS PROGRAM




Solo
 

By  Roddy Lumsden  

 

 

For once, I felt wanted, dead or alive,

 

the day my fame outgrew the Famous Five.

 

 

There came a time I could give no more

 

to the other guys in the Gang of Four

 

 

and I felt the dead weight fall from me

 

when I unyoked the clowns of the Crucial Three.

 

 

I considered all this as I boarded the bus

 

to quit the town not big enough for both of us.

 

 

One eye didn’t seem so much to leave behind

 

as I sped to my job in the kingdom of the blind.
 
 
REFLECTIVE MUSIC: Caprice # 3 by Mark O'Connor
 
 
 

 

 

 

 

A Duet

 

By  Kevin McFadden  

 

 

Art was long.

 

Paul was short.

 

Art sang the song.

 

Paul was the sort

 

 

who made one up

 

as if from air.

 

Paul had more gift.

 

Art had more hair—

 

 

which isn’t to take

 

away from Arts.

 

Many sing well

 

if someone starts,

 

 

and it robs no Simon

 

to get paid like Paul.

 

Along was Art’s way

 

to be singing at all.

 

 

If Paul robbed some,

 

it’s harder revealing.

 

What stuck in his mind,

 

he stuck to concealing

 

 

so koo-koo-ka-choo

 

would stick in our heads.

 

It wasn’t Garfunkel,

 

someone said Simon said

 

 

when they parted acts.

 

Debts one forgets.

 

Acoustic is fraught

 

with strings over frets,

 

 

taken together,

 

taken apart.

 

Paul lifting from life.  

 

Life lifting from Art.
 

REFLECTIVE MUSIC: April Come She Will by Simon & Garfunkel





 

 

The Triple Fool

 

By  John Donne  

 

 

I am two fools, I know,

 

      For loving, and for saying so

 

          In whining poetry;

 

But where's that wiseman, that would not be I,

 

          If she would not deny?

 

Then as th' earth's inward narrow crooked lanes

 

    Do purge sea water's fretful salt away,

 

I thought, if I could draw my pains

 

    Through rhyme's vexation, I should them allay.

 

Grief brought to numbers cannot be so fierce,

 

For he tames it, that fetters it in verse.

 

 

      But when I have done so,

 

      Some man, his art and voice to show,

 

          Doth set and sing my pain;

 

And, by delighting many, frees again

 

          Grief, which verse did restrain.

 

To love and grief tribute of verse belongs,

 

    But not of such as pleases when 'tis read.

 

Both are increased by such songs,

 

    For both their triumphs so are published,

 

And I, which was two fools, do so grow three;

 

Who are a little wise, the best fools be.
 
 
REFLECTIVE MUSIC: Trio Sonata No. 1 by William Boyce
 
 
 
 
 


 

Chamber Thicket 

By  Sharon Olds  

 

 

As we sat at the feet of the string quartet,  

 

in their living room, on a winter night,  

 

through the hardwood floor spurts and gulps  

 

and tips and shudders came up, and the candle-scent  

 

air was thick-alive with pearwood,  

 

ebony, spruce, poplar, and horse  

 

howled, and cat skreeled, and then,  

 

when the Grösse Fugue was around us, under us,  

 

over us, in us, I felt I was hearing  

 

the genes of my birth-family, pulled, keening  

 

and grieving and scathing, along each other,  

 

scraping and craving, I felt myself held in that  

 

woods of hating longing, and I knew  

 

and knew myself, and my parents, and their parents,  

 

there—and then, at a distance, I sensed,  

 

as if it were thirty years ago,  

 

a being, far off yet, oblique-approaching,  

 

straying toward, and then not toward,  

 

and then toward this place, like a wandering dreaming  

 

herdsman, my husband. And I almost wanted  

 

to warn him away, to call out to him  

 

to go back whence he came, into some calmer life,  

 

but his beauty was too moving to me,  

 

and I wanted too much to not be alone, in the  

 

covert, any more, and so I prayed him  

 

come to me, I bid him hasten, and good welcome.


REFLECTIVE MUSIC: Grosse Fugue by L. van Beethoven




 

 

The Snow Is Deep on the Ground

 

By  Kenneth Patchen  

 

 

The snow is deep on the ground.  

 

Always the light falls

 

Softly down on the hair of my belovèd.

 

 

This is a good world.

 

The war has failed.

 

God shall not forget us.

 

Who made the snow waits where love is.

 

 

Only a few go mad.

 

The sky moves in its whiteness

 

Like the withered hand of an old king.  

 

God shall not forget us.

 

Who made the sky knows of our love.

 

 

The snow is beautiful on the ground.  

 

And always the lights of heaven glow  

 

Softly down on the hair of my belovèd.
 

REFLECTIVE MUSIC: The Snow is Deep on the Ground, by The Claudia Quintet





 

 

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