Lotsa A Cappella home | What's New | Lotsa A Cappella Links | Concerts | Photos | History | Contact |
Dr. King Special | Halloween Special | Christmas music | Poetry Month | 9/11 Tribute |

When April scatters charms of primrose gold
Among the copper leaves in thickets old,
And singing skylarks from the meadows rise,
To twinkle like black stars in sunny skies;

When I can hear the small woodpecker ring
Time on a tree for all the birds that sing;
And hear the pleasant cuckoo, loud and long --
The simple bird that thinks two notes a song.

~ William Henry Davies, April's Charms

"April is in my mistress' face..."


Poetry Month playlists

April 18, 2010

Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.

~ Berthold Auerbach

Tell the Truth
But tell it slant---
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind.

~ Emily Dickinson ~

April is National Poetry Month

My House
My Horse
My Hound

~ May Swanson

Celebrate National Poetry Month by listening to Literature for the Halibut, now on Monday evenings on 88.1 KDHX, (available on podcast anytime) and by checking out www.Poets.org.

Poetry In Motion

Charles Bernstein's 1999 article "Against National Poetry Month As Such" is interesting reading.

Find Poetry Online

For the latest Lotsa A Cappella playlist, click on the link below:

I love to think of nature as an unlimited broadcasting station, through which God speaks to us every hour, if we will only tune in.

~ George Washington Carver

"April is the cruelest month..."

To celebrate National Poetry Month, Lotsa A Cappella featured songs with "poetic" lyrics. We played songs written by:

Quote Garden: On Poetry

"The crown of literature is poetry. It is its end and aim. It is the sublimest activity of the human mind. It is the achievement of beauty and delicacy. The writer of prose can only step aside when the poet passes."

~ Somerset Maugham


On the first day of Spring in the year ninety-three
The first recreation was in this country,
The King's County gentleman o'er hills, dales and rocks,
They rode out so jovially in search of a fox.
Tally-ho, hark away, tally-ho, hark away, tally ho, hark away, boys, away...

When Reynard first started he faced Tullamore,
Arklow and Wicklow along the seashore,
He kept his brush in view every yard of the way,
And it's straight he took his course through the streets of Roscrea.
Tally-ho, hark away, tally-ho, hark away, tally ho, hark away, boys, away...

But Reynard, sly Reynard, he lay hid that night,
They swore they would watch him until the daylight,
Early the next morning the woods they did resound,
With the echo of horns and the sweet cry of hounds.
Tally-ho, hark away, tally-ho, hark away, tally ho, hark away, boys, away...

When Reynard was started he faced to the hollow,
Where none but the hounds and footmen could follow,
The gentlemen cried: "Watch him, watch him, what shall we do?
If he makes it to the rocks then he will cross Killatoe!"
Tally-ho, hark away, tally-ho, hark away, tally ho, hark away, boys, away...

But Reynard, sly Reynard, away he did run,
Away from the huntsman, away from the gun,
The gentleman cried: "Home, boys, there's nothing we can do,
For Reynard is away and our hunting is through."
Tally-ho, hark away, tally-ho, hark away, tally ho, hark away, boys, away.




cold winter consuming you tooth & claw
show in limbs worn down to the skin & bone
slope shoulders dissolve in snow pale shadows
retrace your face in a monochrome
with the gilded mask of a martyr's pride
but i want you alive      i want you alive...

~ words and music by Jonathan Alger




Music is the wine that fills the cup of silence.

~ Robert Fripp


If you ever plan to motor west,
Travel my way, take the highway that's the best.
Get your kicks on Route 66.

It winds from Chicago to L.A.
More than 2,000 miles all the way,
Get your kicks on Route 66.

Now you go through St. Looey, Joplin, Missouri
Oklahoma City looks mighty pretty
You'll see Amarillo, Gallup, New Mexico,
Flagstaff, Arizona, don't forget Winona,
Kingman, Barstow, San Bernardino.

Won't you get hip to this timely tip:
When you make that California trip,
Get your kicks on Route 66.

~ Bobby Troup


When sin had set our world at six and seven,
Then stoop'd to earth the Lord, the King of Heaven,
Born for us at this glad season:
Wherefore sing we with good reason,
Laus tibi Domine,
Qui natus est pro homine,
In Bethlehem parva.

But, gentles, be not chary
In your praise of Maiden Mary:
And I pray you to-day, you be gay, you do say,
"To rescue man forlorn, Alleluya,
The King of Bliss is born!"

~ G.W. Woodward






To Daffodils

Fair daffodils, we weep to see
     You haste away so soon;
As yet the early-rising sun
     Has not attain’d his noon.
         Stay, stay
     Until the hasting day
        Has run
     But to the evensong;
And, having pray’d together, we
     Will go with you along.

We have short time to stay, as you,
We have as short a spring;
As quick a growth to meet decay,
As you, or anything.
         We die
     As your hours do, and dry
     Like to the summer’s rain;
Or as the pearls of morning’s dew,
     Ne’er to be found again.

     ~ Robert Herrick


The notes I handle no better than many pianists.  But the pauses between the notes - ah, that is where the art resides!

~ Artur Schnabel


To what purpose, April, do you return again?
Beauty is not enough.
You can no longer quiet me with the redness
Of little leaves opening stickily.
I know what I know.
The sun is hot on my neck as I observe
The spikes of the crocus.
The smell of the earth is good.
It is apparent that there is no death.
But what does that signify?
Not only under ground are the brains of men
Eaten by maggots.
Life in itself
Is nothing,
An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.
It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

~ Edna St Vincent Millay


The ocean doesn't want me today
But I'll be back tomorrow to play
And the strangles will take me
Down deep in their brine
The mischievous braingels
Down into the endless blue wine...

~ words & music by Tom Waits






in Just-

in Just-
spring       when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame balloonman whistles
     far     and wee
and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it's
when the world is puddle-wonderful
the queer
old balloonman whistles
far      and     wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing
from hop-scotch and jump-rope and
balloonMan         whistles

     ~ e.e. cummings


To An Early Daffodil

Thou yellow trumpeter of laggard Spring!
   Thou herald of rich Summer’s myriad flowers!
   The climbing sun with new recovered powers
Does warm thee into being, through the ring
Of rich, brown earth he woos thee, makes thee fling
   Thy green shoots up, inheriting the dowers
   Of bending sky and sudden, sweeping showers,
Till ripe and blossoming thou art a thing
   To make all nature glad, thou art so gay;
To fill the lonely with a joy untold;
   Nodding at every gust of wind to-day,
To-morrow jewelled with raindrops. Always bold
   To stand erect, full in the dazzling play
Of April’s sun, for thou hast caught his gold.

     ~ Amy Lowell



Lotsa AT kdhx DOT org