Poetry Triggers I - Music

What flips you over into poetry mindset? A word, a smell, a glimpse of a sunset over the mountains, the feel of sand walking on a beach? Many times for me, it’s a song. It could be the music, or the words, but the winning combination is usually the right mix of intelligent lyrics and great music. Music not only helps me with novel writing, it also plays a big part in putting me in the proper 'poetry creation' frame of mind. Musicians with a love of word play suck me in more often than not. I’m going to discuss three artists who appear on my iPod as definite inspirations. I dug up a few YouTube videos with examples for those that don’t have the music wired into their brain. (For the techno-goobers… just click play.)

I love the complicated and complex lyrics of Bruce Cockburn, and Roger Waters. On the other hand, some artists can take those ‘easy’ rhymes and turn them into an interesting song, one that resonates far more than a glance at the lyrics would have you believe. Tom Petty manages to take rather mundane rhymes, and rework them into something with a raft of underlying meaning. A great deal of the impact of the lyrics comes from what’s not said, the things left for the listener to fill in on his/her own. Back that with a driving beat, and all kinds of happy poetic inspiration jumps to mind.

Ankle Deep

Well, they raised that horse to be a jumper

He was owned by a mid-west bible thumper

His preacher was a Louisiana drummer

Took all winter to get through the summer

The fieldhand hit the switch and stumbled

Outside the big engine roared and rumbled

The stolen horse spooked and tumbled

She didn't speak for a week

Just kinda mumbled

-----Ankle deep in love [4x]

He was caught up in a lie he half believed

Found her hiding high in the family tree

Washed his hands and put her cross his knee

She said daddy "you been a mother to me"

-----Ankle deep in love [4x]

(from Tom Petty - Highway Companion © 2006)

The video is purely a means to get the song out there. Don’t expect much, I wanted to illustrate how the music builds the lyrics up to something beyond easy rhyme.

I’ve mentioned before that I like Pink Floyd. Between Roger Waters’ lyrics, and David Gilmour’s guitar, I find plenty of inspiration, just not always of the happy type. That's okay, if I was purely a 'happy' poet, I'd work for Hallmark. The underlying dark of some of Waters’ lyrics is appealing in its own way, like a scab you can’t stop picking. Never easy, downright uncomfortable at times, the sly and cynical bent appeals to my inner poetic sadist. My favorite ‘dark’ song would have to be the following. The combination of these lyrics and the slow music always makes me shiver, and my mind switch to poetic contemplation.

"When The Tigers Broke Free"

It was just before dawn

One miserable morning in black 'forty four.

When the forward commander

Was told to sit tight

When he asked that his men be withdrawn.

And the Generals gave thanks

As the other ranks held back

The enemy tanks for a while.

And the Anzio bridgehead

Was held for the price

Of a few hundred ordinary lives.

And kind old King George

Sent Mother a note

When he heard that father was gone.

It was, I recall,

In the form of a scroll,

With gold leaf and all.

And I found it one day

In a drawer of old photographs, hidden away.

And my eyes still grow damp to remember

His Majesty signed

With his own rubber stamp.

It was dark all around.

There was frost in the ground

When the tigers broke free.

And no one survived

From the Royal Fusiliers Company C.

They were all left behind,

Most of them dead,

The rest of them dying.

And that's how the High Command

Took my daddy from me.

There are numerous video interpretations of this song floating around out there, it’s interesting how the visuals layer a third component to my poetic duet of music and lyrics. With lots of middle of nowhere windshield time, I usually supply my own visuals to songs, but hey, this works wonderfully.

My all time favorite songwriter would have to be Bruce Cockburn. I’ve been listening to him for … well, let’s just say over twenty years, and the man just keeps getting better. He packs his songs so full, the density smacks you right between the eyes. The lyrics, coupled with his incredible guitar playing are good for more than a few inspirational moments. I’ve got several poems that riff off of his lyrics, where the turn of a phrase set my mind spinning to a new direction, a new poem.

Cockburn paints some wonderfully lyrical word pictures. “When You Give It Away” from Breakfast in New Orleans is a good example.

“Slid out of my dreams like a baby out of the nurse's hands

onto the hard floor of day

I'd been wearing OJ's gloves and I couldn't get them off

It was too early but I couldn't sleep

showered, dressed, stepped out into the heat

the parrot things on the porch next door

announced my arrival on Chartres Street

with their finest rendition of squealing brakes…”

I love that he uses real words, big words, complex ideas and references with no apologies, hence the denseness of his lyrics. For example, this stanza from “Call It Democracy”

…Sinister cynical instrument

who makes the gun into a sacrament --

the only response to the deification

of tyranny by so-called "developed" nations'

idolatry of ideology

"Idolatry of Ideology" How awesome is that?

Not to mention Cockburn has several songs that are fine poems in their own right.

“After The Rain”

After the rain in the streets, light flows like blood

I can just taste salt on the humid wind

Here comes that gasoline

Spreading hungry rainbow over shiny black tar

I'm blown like smoke and blind as wind

Except for when your love breaks in…

“Incandescent Blue”

I sneaked across the border

It was threatening rain

So I could stand in this tunnel waiting for the roaring train

And watch those black kids working out Kung Fu moves

If you don't want to be the horses' hoofprints, you've got to be the hooves…

Listening to the songs for so many years, it’s hard to separate out the lyrics and look at them as poetry without hearing the music resonate in my head. This song shows a deft touch with rhyme, slant rhymes, meter, etc., everything a poet should have in his/her toolbox. After being subjected to the insipidities of pop music downtown one day, I rushed home to inject myself with the antidote...

Northern Lights

by Bruce Cockburn

Sunday night, and it's half past 9

I'm leaving one more town behind

Mirrors are showing the day's last glow

As we're spit out into the jigsaw flow

Ahead where there should be the thickness of night

Stars are pinned on a shimmering curtain of light

Sky full of ripplings cliffs and chasms

That shine like signs on the road to heaven

I've been cut by the beauty of jagged mountains

And cut by the love that flows like a fountain from God

So I carry these scars, precious and rare

And tonight I feel like I'm made of air...

The final video is purely instrumental, just so you can ‘hear’ the poetry.

Music to Write Novels By (Well, Kind of)

I like my Outreach activities because of the long drive to other parts of the state. It gives me time to ponder writing, either problem stories and resolutions, plot twists for the UFN (Unfinished Fantasy Novel), or a place to recite poem lines out loud, with revisions, and not have anyone call the men in the white coats. Being the spiffy ADD multitasker I am, I also had my iPod playing. Normally I listen to podcasts or audiobooks, but sometimes, like today, I flip it to shuffle. The juxtaposition of some of the music I get can be startling, enlightening, or annoying, depending on the whim of the Shuffle Gods.

Last time I checked I only had 2000 songs on my iPod. A drop in the auditory bucket compared to many people. Genres run the gamut from Alternative to World, with heaping helpings of Folk and Soundtracks, which is what usually accompanies me when I write. I know I've mentioned before I have "Music to Write Battle Scenes By", "Instrumentals for Social Commentary Poems", and "Tunes for Tormenting Protagonists".

So I was driving across the upper right hand corner of nowhere, hoping the turkeys stayed in the median, the mule deer on the side of the road, and the eagle in the sky above me, thinking about the UFN, which is really the AFFN (Almost Finished Fantasy Novel). I retraced plots in my mind, found a few loose ends, and was meditating on overall themes when a song came on the iPod, and the Muse of The Totally Obvious reached through the speakers and slapped me upside the head. (Hey, at least it wasn't a wild turkey running into the side of the car. I hate when that happens.)

Muse of TTO: "Listen up. You're whining about theme? I got your theme right here." WHAP

There it was, the song that summed up the AFFN. "One of Us" by Joan Osborne. (YouTube Video)

I listened. I thought about it. I grudgingly admitted the song was perfect in its own way for the AFFN, and put up with the boozy glow of self-satisfaction emanating from the Muse of TTO.

Muse of TTO: "Told you so. Now you try it. Just for a few minutes, I'll allow you to think on the Half-Finished Fantasy Novel (HFN) and those characters. Then I'll give you a hint in the next ten songs."

Me: "How are you controlling my iPod? You and your brother, the Luddite Muse, swore you didn't know anything about 'high-flutin' machinery gobbledegook', which is why I had to write fantasy if I wanted your help."

Muse of TTO: *mumbling* "I took a class, okay? Now shut up and listen."

By the time I slowed to read the minds of a herd of mule deer thinking – not very hard- of crossing the road, played pass the gravel truck and trailer to avoid a chipped windshield, and caught a regulation sized tumbleweed with my front bumper, the songs changed several times, and there it was. The song that summed up the HFN. "He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother" by Neil Diamond. (YouTube Video)

"You got to be kidding me," I said aloud.

Muse of TTO: WHAP. "I never kid."

"Horsehockey," I replied, "you always kid, which is why I can never tell when you're actually serious about something. Matter of fact, most of your ideas border on Writer Abuse. Waiting until I'm knee deep in a book then barrage me with interesting ideas for others."

Muse of TTO: "Yeah, that was rather amusing. Gabriele's Muse bet me your head would eventually explode. I figured you would forget 2/3rds of the ideas I gave you before you wrote them down. You're lucky the Short Story Muse swooped in and coerced a few of the ideas to her realm."

The iPod shuffles to a new tune. "Why can't I have a Pink Floyd song for a theme?" I whine.

Muse of TTO: WHAP. "Because. 'You Can't Always Get What You Want.'"

A plethora of gnome-like giggles comes from the back seat as I stifle a groan. "Fine." I crank the volume. "What about the MishMashed SciFi Novel?" (MSN)

Muse of TTO: "Since you are so all over the map with that one, I'll give you TWO songs to think about."

For a moment I thought the first would be "Donald Where's Your Troosers?" (YouTube Video) but it didn't really fit the MSN, and the TTO Muse wouldn't be that cruel. Would he? Nope, just a scare.

So I was left with The Patriot Game, (YouTube Video) by any self respecting Irish band, and Still Waiting by Sum41. (YouTube Video)

"You've got to be… uh, the best Muse of any struggling writer," I amend hastily.

Muse of TTO: "Damn straight. Now, if you don't mind, I've got a poker game to get to. Last time, we bankrupted Scott Oden's Finishing Muse and left him drunk, naked, and bunked on a submarine headed to Oslo, Norway.* Most fun I've had in years. Vi sees." With a dimension ripping, radio static POP, I'm alone again. I drive, and return to novel ruminations.

As I pass by the gate to a local ranch, there on top of a mailbox post, with a red balloon tied to his pipe hand, is a garden gnome. I barely had time to register the pointy hat and beard before my car flashed past. Was this the site of the elusive Muse-Gnome poker party? Or was it just the usual garden variety rural humor?

I didn't have to ponder too hard on that one. The song playing on the iPod as I barreled by the Ranch Gnome? "Wish You Were Here", by Pink Floyd. (YouTube Video)

Writers, if any of your Muses come up missing in the next few days, I think I know where they are…

*I am no way implying Scott is drunk, naked, and on a submarine off the coast of Norway. I think the Muse was implying it was Scott's Finishing Muse, but it wasn't quite clear over the raucous Gnome giggles just who the TTO Muse was talking about...

Dark Side of the Tunes

I spent a good two hours last night looking through iTunes, listening to samples, perusing artists and genres. Guess what I ended up buying? Nothing. Yep, Two hours of my life I’ll never get back, all because hope springs eternal that I will find more music I like. I seem to be stuck in a rut, listening to older music, soundtracks, and the occasional metal band my child inflicts on me. I don’t even listen to the radio any more, vapid is the word that comes to mind. So where to find new music? Right now I go mainly by recommendations. Music from bands that play at our Celtic Festival – Indulgers, Gobs O’Phun, Men of Worth, Lalla Rookh. Opera rec’s from Gabriele. My anonymous brother has been a good source for folk and bluegrass, my children keep me up to date on metal and rap – although the oldest shares my tastes in Pink Floyd, the Doors, Jefferson Airplane, and others of that ilk. Kind of scary when you ride in a car with a 17 year old and can agree on the music. And want it louder.

Part of my reluctance to purchase more music is financial; I can’t see paying yet again for Pink Floyd in another media. Luckily I had most of the CD’s and could just load them, but there was a couple disks too scratched to work with, or at least that’s what my computer tells me. How many copies of “Wish You Were Here” or “A Momentary Lapse of Reason” does one person really need? Not to mention the transfer of old laptop files to new laptop went… okay. But if I find the person who decided grouping iTunes folders by whatever weird method they came up with, I shall beat him with a USB cable. The logical person would put all the songs off an album in one file folder. Not so iTunes. If there was a guest singer, or additional musician listed, they go off into a separate file folder, sometimes under the grand title of “compilations”, sometimes under some archaic and Byzantine method I have yet to figure out. I’m sure there’s a box to check/uncheck somewhere to fix it, but I don’t need to work that hard, you know? If I buy an album, it should be ready to play in the order the artists intended. I want to listen, I don’t want to have to do rocket science just to hear some tunes.

That was the iTunes whine for the day, on the bright side; I have a stack of 93 CDs waiting to be ripped. In my copious free time. At least this way, I can eliminate songs I’ll never listen to, and compile things in my own weird way. I’ve made mixes for my iTunes and iPod just for writing. Songs for Writing Battle Scenes, Songs for Background Noise, Foreign Mood-setting Music, podcasts on writing, Escape Pod podcasts for inspiration, Audiobooks of poetry, and instrumentals. Tunes to compose poetry by – which aren’t as fluffy as you would think. Fatboy Slim can be really inspirational. Honest.

In a training module for work, one of the icebreakers the trainer asked was, “What is your favorite song?” Interesting question, because if he asked about books or paintings or even cars, I would have hemmed and hawed and had to consider it at length before coming up with an answer. Not so with music. At least this decade. I had no problem volunteering my answer straight away.

Pink Floyd - "Learning to Fly".

The video is not my vision of it, but hey, I’ll cut the artists some slack. *g* So have you made music collections just for writing? Is there some tunes that get you racing to write that battle scene? Music to Off Bad Guys? Great, sweeping bits to sketch scenery by? Please, share with the class.

What’s YOUR favorite song?

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Listen Up!

I spent a couple hours before bed slacking off. I should have been writing, or doing the dishes, but after four hours Wednesday in various meetings, getting shoved into a supervisory roll (killing my whole responsibility avoidance plan), and spending an hour in the building storm shelter because of a tornado… I just wasn't up to anything requiring much thought. I downloaded podcasts into iTunes so I could have interesting stuff to listen to on my Outreach travels across the Periphery.

I found a lot more podcasts for writers than I knew, combining a Google search for them with browsing iTunes podcasts. I found some new podcasts- or new to me, and promptly subscribed. I already listen to things like Military History podcast, Garrison Keillor's The Writer's Almanac and language lessons – Italian, French Spanish, Russian, Chinese, Japanese, Finnish. Take your pick. I found a Latin Language lesson that's helping me with pronunciation.

New discoveries include a nifty Irish and Celtic music podcast, and neat stuff like Alan Watts podcast, Philosophy Podcast, and The Secret World Chronicle – a Mercedes Lackey & Steve Libbey story podcast. My iPod runneth over!

There are more podcasts than any one person can absorb, news, tech, religion, culture, all kinds of commentary. I zeroed in on some writing geared ones, either story mechanics or ones that tell stories.

I've been listening to Escape Pod's SF/F podcast for a while now. Short (20min-1hr) speculative fiction stories read with varying degrees of voice talent, SF news and reviews, reader reactions. Some stories are so fascinating I listen to them again on my return trip. Some of the work read was by Mike Resnick, Jay Lake, Tim Pratt, Isaac Asimov, Sarah Prineas to name a few. They also spun off another podcast for horror called Pseudopod. Too scary for me. :)

Then there is the Dragon Page with SF/F book reviews.

Writing advice from Mike Stackpole.

Writing advice from Fiction Right.

Poets & Writers Magazine podcast with poetry readings and panel discussions.

Poetryfoundation.org which podcasts discussions and criticisms of poetry, including some of their main articles.

Being as I was downloading to my old crappy laptop, and transferring to iPod with a 1.1 USB port, it took a while. Not quite instant gratification, but I'm looking forward to my next Outreach drive and all the cool stuff I have to listen to. The good thing is I can choose to learn something or listen to some good writing and not waste three hours of my life playing road kill bingo. I can turn everything off and just admire the pretty green (for now) countryside and ponder my own writing, but it's good to have options. So time to throw away the cassette tapes and CDs and count me as a big fan of new technology.