Round and Round Poem written in a magical week of music production in February of 2009. PDF File can be viewed here: http://stokastika2.googlepages.com/roundandround1.pdf.Associated poems can be found in Blog #427.
It's funny how ideas work. Perhaps a couple of years ago I noted the origins of the notion of spinning my wheels or feeling like a repetitious broken record. This theme had been manifested in several of my poems, but then there is a magical person and or place--which happened to be in February of 2009 who places this frequently revisited theme into a nontraditional context and the most optimal of stories--optimal meaning "short, to the point, but very artful." Aka conforming to the "Barry Spacks Theory of Poetry." Barry told me that Pascale said that "It takes a long time to write a short letter," and it seems that always at first that all of my ideas emerge in an uncontained flurry of thoughts, but over time they become widdled down to utmost simplicity. I belch out this simplicity, and then I'm calm, and I move forward.
During that "magical" week in February, amidst all the conflicting demands for school, my mind spontaneously made at least 5 songs, belched out, right there. Now, I am revisiting that time of insane creativity.
1 comment:
I received a "cropping" from Barry in terms of what seemed to be the poem element of the song Round and Round. See below.
Hey, Miz V., I like a lot of your song, want to hear it with the music to see if lyrics could go up a notch.
Especially strong in the final verse. Starts well. Here's the material that feels finished to me,
thinking strictly as lyric (but often something that seems blah on the page actually works beautifully with tune). What I don't list below could MAYBE use some clarification & tune-up. Come sing it for me.
Summer term has begun -- Friday I'll have my third class. Office hours 11-12 MWF.
Yes, leave that demanding world behind and go deep -- sounds like a great idea.
I am spinning
Round and round
On a windmill,
And there’s this boy
Of Wisdom’s age
Who swam around
My self-built cage
And rescued me
And slipped me out
To watch the wheels
Go round about.
We’ll tweak our ways,
So we are spinning
Round and round
On a watermill
So we are laughing
Round and round
So we are dancing
Round and round
Never the same
N’ round and round
Always shifting
In round and round
And we are sleeping
Oh so sound—
We are sleeping
Oh so sound—
We are sleeping
Oh so sound.
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