LOTSA A CAPPELLA
POETRY MONTH

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I triumph in the choruses of birds,
Bursting like April buds in gyres of song.

~ Siegfried Sassoon, from The Last Meeting


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

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Poetry Month playlists

April 18, 2010


Stone walls confine a tinker; cold iron binds a witch; but a musician's music can never be fettered, for it lives first in her heart and mind.

~ Charles de Lint


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

~ Emily Dickinson ~


April is National Poetry Month

The waves are running in verses this fine morning. Please come flying.

~ Elizabeth Bishop


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:


A red-cap sang in Bishop’s wood,
A lark o’er Golder’s lane,
As I the April pathway trod
Bound west for Willesden.

At foot each tiny blade grew big
And taller stood to hear,
And every leaf on every twig
Was like a little ear.

~ Olive Tilford Dargan, from Path Flower



"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


Gush forth my tears
and stay the burning
of my poor heart
or her eyes
Choose you whether

O' peevish fond desire
alas my sighs
still blow the fire...

~ William Holborne


daffodil


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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


Google

WWW LOTSA.US

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Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back.

~ Plato


Your words go through and through me
And leave me totally dazed
For they do such strange things to me
They nearly make me gloomy
For you dear are so clever
So obviously the top
I wish you'd go on forever
I wish even more you'd stop.

Oh it's BAD FOR ME, it's bad for me,
The knowledge that you're going mad for me.
I feel certain my friends would be glad for me
But it's bad for me.

It's so good for me, so new for me
To see someone in such a stew for me
And when you say you'll do all you could for me
It's so good for me it's bad for me.

I felt ‘til you whispered to me
Completely left on the shelf
But since you started to woo me
I'm just crazy about myself.

It's a boon for me, a break for me
To hear that your heart's on the make for me
Yet no matter however appealing
I still have a feeling it's bad for me.

It's so sweet for me, it's swell for me
To feel that you're going through hell for me
Yet no matter however appealing
I still have a feeling it's bad for me.

~ words and music by Cole Porter

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I sing of a maiden that is makeless;
King of all kings to her son she ches.
He came all so still where his mother was,
As dew in April that falleth on the grass.
He came all so still to his mother’s bower,
As dew in April that falleth on the flower.
He came all so still where his mother lay,
As dew in April that falleth on the spray.
Mother and maiden was never none but she;
Well may such a lady Goddes mother be.

~ English Folk, 15th Century


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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
         Away
     Like to the summer’s rain;
Or as the pearls of morning’s dew,
     Ne’er to be found again.

     ~ Robert Herrick

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It's easy to play any musical instrument: all you have to do is touch the right key at the right time and the instrument will play itself.

~ J.S. Bach




Lost April, where did you go?
Like winter snow I saw you vanish.
Lost April, so soft and warm
A memory not even time can banish.
Lost April, that taught me this:
A single kiss could lead to heaven;
But April had numbered days,
So when they passed, love couldn’t last.
I lost love and you and April too…

~ Nat "King" Cole




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I can hear her heart beat for a thousand miles
And the heavens open every time she smiles
And when I come to her that's where I belong
Yet I'm running to her like a river's song
She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love...

~ words & music by Van Morrison


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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
spring
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
it's
spring
and
       the
             goat-footed
balloonMan         whistles
far
and
wee

     ~ e.e. cummings


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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


 


1854


Lotsa AT kdhx DOT org