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SONGS ON SUNDAY |
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Answering Johnny Bartlett’s
letter on Friday got me to thinking about songwriting versus poetry. You might have
noticed that since this Flight Plan series started I’ve never printed any of my
songs. The reasons are complicated, but boil down to the fact that as a poet, I never
think of songs as poetry. After all, unless you hear the music & the lyric to a song
together they are only words if said or music if just played.
There’s a frequently quoted story about Mrs. Oscar Hammerstein II and the following
overheard party conversation: One woman says to another "I’ve just come back
from the theatre where I heard Jerome Kern’s new song "Old Man River."
Hearing this Mrs. Hammerstein replied, "Excuse me, Mr. Kern wrote "da-da-ddah,
da, te-da-da-dah . . . my husband wrote "Old Man River, that Old Man River."
My own songs, whether I write both words and music or am fortunate enough to work with
talented and inventive composers, are meant to be sung not said. Nothing gets me crazier
than seeing lyrics judged as poetry. It’s a mistake that critics make or do
deliberately. Had I listened to those reviewers who judged me a mediocre poet because the
lyrics to "If You Go Away" or "Jean" don’t measure up to
"The Truthful Lover" or "Now I Have The Time" I’d have been
crazier and more eccentric than I already am.
Of course I’ve been guilty of encouraging the confusion, by printing song lyrics as
final chapters in my books of poetry. Though I have always been careful to label them as
songs, I’ve still encountered reviews where a writer cites "One more time around
Piccadilly Circus, driver follow that bus. It’s a shame the way the rich folks work
us, Everybody’s Rich But Us," or "How did I get from dark to daylight till
you happened to pass by? How did I find my way through life before you brightened up my
sky?" as proof that I’m a less than stellar poet. Those lines certainly are not
poetry, by any stretch of the imagination, And they should not be judged as such, but as
song lyrics within the context of "Everybody’s Rich But Us" and "I
Think of You" they do the job.
I love my songs. They are as much a part of me as anything else I do and they are my
children just as "Listen To The Warm" and "Fields of Wonder" are
members of the family. So too are "Seasons In The Sun", "Loves Been Good To
Me", "A Boy Named Charlie Brown" and "Jean" next of kin.
Writing a different flight plan every day means trying out lots of ideas and I try out
lots of different ideas. Sunday seems as good a time as any to talk about and feature some
of the words to some of my songs. Poetry they ain’t, but judging from the success of
some of them, they aren’t orphans either. So, here without the music to amplify and
push them along, are words I’ve written to be sung.
Some Songs For PetToday
is Petula Clark’s birthday. Pet is not only one of the best-loved and most popular
singers the world over, she is a talented actress, a great mother and a highly successful
songwriter herself.
When Glenn Gould and I exchanged long phone calls in the middle-night, we talked about
everything . . . sex, pianistics, poetics, phobias, gossip – you name it. Most often
though we chatted about our mutual love and admiration for Pet Clark. Ella Fitzgerald
called her "One of a kind, with the breath control of an angel." Sinatra said of
her "There isn’t any better or more polished singer anywhere, I could listen to
her all night." When I played "The Wind of Change" for Leonard Bernstein he
commented, "My God, the lady should be singing lieder. Her range is
stratospheric."
Petula can sing the most banal lyric and because of her range, depth of perception and
understanding of how to turn a phrase and deliver a lyric, make it sound like the finest
work of Porter, Larry Hart or Mercer. When she gets a great song, (like those tucked away
in albums titled after her hits), look out.
I’ve known Pet and loved her for a few decades and over the years been lucky enough
to work with her too – alas, never enough. I’ve sung her songs and she’s
sung mine and now and again we pop up on each others albums in duets. Best of all for me,
I’ve written material especially for that gorgeous and otherworldly voice of hers to
sing. For me, it doesn’t get much better than hearing Pet Clark bend and shape and
caress my words. Again today is the birthday of Petula Clark, so near the end of this
Flight Plan instead of a poem, you’ll find the lyrics to a few songs I’ve
written for and dedicate to her.
- RM, Sunday Morning 11/15/98
If this edition of Flight Plan is posted a little late
today (and it will be), don’t blame Ken. I finished it at 3:Am California time. |
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Ed Asner o Howard
Baker o Daniel Barenboim o Jorge Bolet o Petula Clark o Peter Dickenson o John Kerr o Selma Kurtz o Bill Melendez o Marianne Moore o Georgia O’Keefe o Judge Joseph Wapner o
Sam Waterson |
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God rewards the
dreamer with continued dreams.
Brotherhood is only love by yet another name.
The smart tree bends with the wind. |
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FIVE SONGS FOR PETULA CLARK ON HER BIRTHDAY, 1998 |
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The
Wind of Change
music: Jaquine Rodrigo • words: Rod McKuen
[Based on a theme from The Concerto de Arenjuez]
Quietly... like the breeze that blows the olive tree
the wind of change has come down from the hills
to lead me home again through the last mile of sunshine.
As easily as the moon makes patterns on the lifeless lake
man grinds the flowers of the fields beneath his heels
and you wonder if he feels... love... or even boredom.
And my friend... the wind of change is asking questions.
Suddenly there are now so many giants everywhere
so many men who think even God looks small
when they are walking tall.
And the wind of change is smiling.
Could it be... that his smile is just another kind of frown
because he knows the world is finally falling down
and going back to dust
and if we trust those men who trample on the grass
emptiness is all that we can ever hope to ask for.
Listen and hear the sound of the dying grass bleed
it’s bleeding for man
and the fool he just won’t understand.
Is it too late to change... the wind of change ?
I Think of You
Music: Francis Lai • Words: Rod McKuen
When I’m alone at night
and there’s no one to comfort me
I think of you
and suddenly my pillow
is your face and arms.
And when the winter wind
comes chasing after me
I think of you
and it’s as though I’ve crawled beneath
a blanket soft and warm.
How did I get
from dark to daylight
till you happened to pass by ?
How did I find my way through life
until you brightened up my sky ?
Was there a sky at all
till you painted it for me ?
How did I get on, till you came along ?
Who knows how many times
I pause in every day
to think of you
as often as the sun sails out
upon the silent sea
and if you’re wondering why it is
I only think of you
well it’s because I’d like to be
as close to you,
as you’ve become to me,
I think of you
I think of you.
A While More With You
Words & music: Rod McKuen
[Written for but not used for the film "Goodbye Mr. Chips"]
Let me stay a while more with you
There’s so much I have yet to learn
Do you like the colors green and blue
Let me stay a while more with you.
Let me walk a mile more with you
There’s so many back roads left to see
We can watch them open up anew
Let me walk a mile more with you.
So much of yourself you let no one see
When you’re beside me
I wonder how much of me is really me.
Let me share a smile more with you
There’s so many smiles I’ve yet to give
Before you came my smiles were very few
So let me share a smile, walk a mile
Let me stay a while more with you.
Kaleidoscope
Words & Music: Rod McKuen
Come with me, what wonders we’ll find,
The ducks on the millpond that swim in the mind.
Come with me, together we’ll go,
Where buttercups shoot through the roof of the snow.
And many the sights that we’ll see.
I’ll look in your eyes and see me.
K, I, Kaleidoscope
Love is another color for hope.
Pain is a separate color from joy,
How many colors there are to enjoy.
Come with me, through valleys of green
We’ll live like the mudlark deep down in a dream,
Come with me, take hold of my hand
I’ll walk you past panthers asleep in the sand,
How lucky some people will be
To look in our eyes and see we.
K, I, Kaleidoscope
Love is another color from hope.
Pain is a separate color from joy,
How many colors there are to enjoy.
Come with me, stay close by my side
The road is so rocky, the world is so wide,
Come with me, and we will go far
Far is forever, wherever we are
How wise is our world and how new,
You’ll look in my eyes and see you.
K, I, Kaleidoscope
Love is another color from hope.
Pain is a separate color from joy,
How many colors there are to enjoy.
Friendly Sounds
Music: Francis Lai • words: Rod McKuen
Hello my friend, my funny friend
why are you lookin’ so down
make me a laugh, well, maybe half
and I’ll show you all my friendly sounds.
Listen and hear, inside your ear
all kinds of pretty things talking to you.
Listen to the rain on the windowpane
listen to the cricket on the hearth
and if you should hear thunder in your ear
it’s just the friendly sounding of your heart.
I know you cry, well, so do I
but when I really get low
I think about the distance to doubt
and find it’s too far to go.
So dry your eyes, pick up your pride
oh, yes, my weepy friend, I’m talking to you.
Listen to the rain on the windowpane
listen to the cricket on the hearth
and if you should hear thunder in your ear
it’s just the friendly sounding of your heart.
Listen to the rain on the windowpane
listen to the cricket on the hearth
And if you should hear some thunder in your ear
it’s just the friendly sounding of your heart.
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