Posts Tagged ‘Ira Gershwin’

not a sometimes thing

June 27, 2016

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William Shakespeare, Sonnet 116

I love you when you’re mean
I love you when you’re mad
I love you when you’re angry
I love you when you’re bad

Love is not a smorgasbord
For me to pick and choose
Always have to clean my plate
When I’m digesting you

I love you when you pout
I love you when you cry
I love you when you’re dirty
I’ll love you till I die

Love is not a sometimes thing
Love is not a switch
I love you as an angel
I love you as a bitch

by Richard W. Bray

Her Reply (Updated)

May 21, 2016

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Sir Walter Raleigh, The Nymph’s Reply to the Shepherd

If we lived in decades past
When marriages were built to last
I might be tempted to tilt your glass
And be your little lovely lass

When I was young my mother told me
That a man is good to hold me
But I must never bought and sold be
Thus no man has yet controlled me

She said a girl must make her way
In this crazy world today
And if I always let you pay
I’ll be tormented should you stray

I do not fit your portrait, sir
Neither rubies nor your fur
Will set my little heart astir
Or make my body coo and purr

You confirmed just what your heart meant
When you offered an apartment
And a closet full of garment
As though my life were some department

Of an edifice you dreamed
Without once consulting me
I can’t live your reality
I shan’t subsume identity

by Richard W. Bray

An Interview on Writing Lyrics and Verse with Richard W. Bray Conducted by Richard W. Bray

February 7, 2016

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Question: When you write in the first person, are you writing about yourself?

Answer: Not necessarily. The decision to use first or third person is often made for phonetic and/or syntactical reasons. For example, I chose first person for “It’s Better to Burst than Ripple Away” largely because it sounds better in first person. For example,

compare this

I’m a rough and tumble cowboy
In a civilized time
My boots are gonna ramble
Till the end of the line

with this

He’s a rough and tumble cowboy
In a civilized time
His boots are gonna ramble
Till the end of the line

The first person just sounds better. And going the from the bilabial m in my to the bilabial b in boots is a smoother transition.

Question: Is this what you meant when you wrote that poetry is a journey across syllables?

Answer: Yes. I can see you’ve done your homework. That’s important for an interviewer. You wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself like the time Charlie Rose asked a guy who had stabbed his wife: “What’s the biggest mistake you ever made in your life?”

Question: You have referenced Robert Pinsky’s elegant little book called The Sounds of Poetry.

Answer: So you’ve read that book too. What’s your question?

Question: You need to stop being such a spazz and wait for the question. You’ve written that there’s always tension sound and meaning.

Answer: Yeah. It’s a constant tug-of-war between what you want to say and how you want to sound.

Question: Are you a rough and tumble cowboy in a civilized time?

Answer: Not really. I’m more of a “Can’t we all get along?” sort of a guy.

Question: Do you ever wish you were more of a rough and tumble cowboy?

Answer: Sure. And I’m very sympathetic to guys like that. And I probably wish I were less cautious and more mavericky.

Question:
So your writing is a variety of wish fulfillment?

Answer: Sometimes. But more often I write about the types of people and behaviors which annoy me. “Fastidious Fred”, for example. The genesis of that poem was a news feature I watched about an extremely uptight famous performer who was ironing his own shirt before going onstage.

Question: Who?

Answer: I’d rather not say.

Question:
Why not?

Answer: Because it wouldn’t be nice.

Question: But isn’t the pursuit of Truth and the creation of art more important than being nice to people?

Answer: No. It’s not even close.

Question: But there must be at least a little bit of Fred inside you.

Answer:
Not much. I hate ironing and I’m lousy at it. But like Fred I’ve certainly been guilty of idiotic stubbornness. In a more general sense, however, if you’ll pardon my circular reasoning, Fred comes out of me so he must be inside my. Adrienne Rich wonders about herself (and this applies to all writers): What kind of beast would turn its life into words? And writers turn their lives into words as spiders turn their lives into silk.

Question: You wrote “sometimes I think I have a long way to go when the poem suddenly informs me that I’m finished.” Can you give me an example of when that happened?

Answer:
Sure. It happened with the last thing I wrote, “Put the World in its Place” which I expected to be much longer. But after I inverted the order of the two stanzas I had written, the poem said, “You’ve made your point. There’s nothing to add. Now shut up and take a shower; it’s time to go to work.”

Question: You also wrote “Sometimes I begin writing a poem knowing exactly what I want to say and it turns out just like I planned. Sometimes. Other times I set out to write something, but I end up writing something else.” Can you give me an example of when that happened?

Answer: Sure. Originally “Unspeakable Things” was going to be an Emperor’s New Clothes narrative where someone, probably a kid or a newcomer to the town of Lidane, was going to ask why nobody ever talks about the giant box in the center of town or perhaps he was going to ask why they don’t just tear the stupid thing down. But after writing three descriptive stanzas, it was a little late to begin my narrative and the poem said, “Wrap it up, dude. You made your point.”

Question:
I notice Lidane is an anagram for denial.

Answer: You probably think you’re pretty clever for figuring that out.

Question: You write a lot about denial.

Answer: No I don’t.

Question: How do you decide if what you write is a song or a poem?

Answer: Usually I know from the beginning based on its structure. For example, if it’s iambic it’s probably a poem and if the stresses are more spaced out it’s a song. But sometimes I argue with myself right up until the moment I post it.

Question: Do you primarily consider yourself a songwriter or a poet?

Answer: Neither. I think it was Robert Frost who said you can’t declare yourself a poet; someone else has to do it for you. And no one that I know of has ever accused me of being a poet. And I can’t be a songwriter because I don’t know anything about music. Besides, I’ve only ever read one book about songwriting, and no one has ever set any of my words to music. So I’m just a frustrated would-be lyricist waiting for someone to email me saying, “I just have to make a song out of something you’ve written. Time to quit the day job.”

Question: I noticed that you write a lot about alcoholism and substance abuse.

Answer: I noticed that too.

by Richard W. Bray (and Richard W. Bray)

In Praise of Clever

April 7, 2012

Clever is underrated.

Clever describes one who possesses brilliance, mental sharpness, originality, or quick intelligence. But the word clever also implies shallowness and superficiality.

Fables teach our children that the clever fox is subordinate to the wise old owl. Cleverness is ephemeral but wisdom abides.

According to this distinction between cleverness and wisdom, cleverness is quick and slick whereas wisdom is an invaluable beverage which must ferment over time: wisdom enlightens; cleverness simply amuses. But without intelligence there is no wisdom; there is merely pablum which seeks to comfort.

And even the least refined cleverness has value. Every flash illuminates, if only for an instant.

I hope you enjoy these witty rhymes from Lyrics on Several Occasions. Ira Gershwin was very clever and that is good enough for me.*

Ira Gershwin rhymed embraceable you with irreplaceable you and silk and laceable you in Embraceable You (29-30)

Ira Gershwin rhymed divorcement with of course, meant and he rhymed painless with ball-and-chainless in Sweet Nevada (78)

Ira Gershwin rhymed enjoyment with for girl and boy meant in Nice Work if You can Get it (96)

Ira Gershwin rhymed caress men with yes men and chessmen in How Long has this Been Going On? (277)

Ira Gershwin rhymed four leaf clover time with (my heart) working overtime in ‘S Wonderful (251)

* I realize, of course, that the word clever has often been used to disparage the accomplishments of Jews, just as the word sinister has often been used to impugn their motives. This is not my intention.

Richard W. Bray