Lyrics vs. Poems, or Is There A Elitist Difference?

[KillerMuffin]

Poetry comes from "lyrics".

Poetry began before there was a method to write. We call it the oral tradition. It was lyrical in that it rhymed and was generally done in iambic tetratameter (like most songs are). Why? Because it's easier to memorize 80 gajillion stanzas to sing if they're rhyming and iamb is a natural foot and tetra/penta is a comfortable length of line to be spoken or sung in a single breath.

Lyrics = poetry = lyrics.

Now, if you're wondering if it's good poetry. The answer is usually no.


When the moon hits your eye
like a big pizza pie,
that's amore....

I rest my case.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

When the moon hits your eye
like a big pizza pie,
that's amore....

I rest my case.

I think the ultimate example still is

When I'm feeling blue
All I have to do
Is take a look at you
Then I'm not so blue

*sigh*

 

[Icingsugar]

When the moon hits your eye
like a big pizza pie,
that's amore....

I rest my case.

Painful, unreal, tasty, messy.

Sounds like amore to me.

 

[perks]

God is a DJ~pink


that's poetry, tough poetry! And the tune is pretty ballsy too.

I've been the girl with her skirt pulled high
Been the outcast never running with mascara eyes
Now I see the world as a candy store
With a cigarette smile, saying things you can't ignore
Like Mommy I love you
Daddy I hate you
Brother I need you
Lover, hey "f*** you"
I can see everything here with my third eye
Like the blue in the sky

[CHORUS:]
If God is a DJ
Life is a dance floor
Love is the rhythm
You are the music
If God is a DJ
Life is a dance floor
You get what you're given
It's all how you use it

[Verse 2:]
I've been the girl- middle finger in the air
Unaffected by rumors, the truth: I don't care
So open your mouth and stick out your tongue
You might as well let go, you can't take back what you've done
So find a new lifestyle
A new reason to smile
Look for Nirvana
Under the strobe lights
Sequins and sex dreams
You whisper to me
There's no reason to cry

[CHORUS:]
If God is a DJ
Life is a dance floor
Love is the rhythm
You are the music
If God is a DJ
Life is a dance floor
You get what you're given
It's all how you use it

[BRIDGE:]
You take what you get and you get what you give
I say don't run from yourself, man, that's no way to live
I've got a record in my bag you should give it a spin
Lift your hands in the air so that life can begin

If God Is a DJ... If God
If God is a DJ (life is a dance floor)
Get your ass on the dance floor

[CHORUS (2X):]
If God is a DJ
Life is a dance floor
Love is the rhythm
You are the music
If God is a DJ
Life is a dance floor
You get what you're given
It's all how you use it

 

[Rybka]

ORAL TRADITION (poetry you perverts)

Poetry comes from "lyrics".

Poetry began before there was a method to write. We call it the oral tradition. It was lyrical in that it rhymed and was generally done in iambic tetratameter (like most songs are). Why? Because it's easier to memorize 80 gajillion stanzas to sing if they're rhyming and iamb is a natural foot and tetra/penta is a comfortable length of line to be spoken or sung in a single breath.

Lyrics = poetry = lyrics.

Now, if you're wondering if it's good poetry. The answer is usually no.


When the moon hits your eye
like a big pizza pie,
that's amore....

I rest my case.

I would be willing to bet that singing came before formal language. After all various non-human species vocalize melodically and/or rythmatically, some in harmony or at least in chorus.

Thus lyrics do not equal poetry.

I will see your Dean Martin and raise you "Na na na-na, na na na-na, Nia na!

 

[Icingsugar]

Damn you all to heck. All the posts of good song lyrics here made me start reading cd booklets. That made me realise how flat and cliché ridden many of the lyrics of my latest musical infatuation are.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Get yourself infatuated with some Nick Cave or something, then.

 

[Icingsugar]

Get yourself infatuated with some Nick Cave or something, then.

Already am. Just widening my horizons.

 

[KillerMuffin]

Re: ORAL TRADITION (poetry you perverts)

I would be willing to bet that singing came before formal language. After all various non-human species vocalize melodically and/or rythmatically, some in harmony or at least in chorus.

Thus lyrics do not equal poetry.

I will see your Dean Martin and raise you "Na na na-na, na na na-na, Nia na!

What does the growth of language have to do with the fact that poetry was born from an oral, sung tradition?


I will see your Sha-na-na and raise you Axl Rose.

 

[Rybka]

Re: Re: ORAL TRADITION (poetry you perverts)

What does the growth of language have to do with the fact that poetry was born from an oral, sung tradition?

I will see your Sha-na-na and raise you Axl Rose.

See Axl and bump you with "Dawn in a Duck Blind".
Very interesting thread. I started off arguing that lyrics are a subset of poetry, and now it has come around back to me claiming that lyrics existed before/without language. Maybe lyrics without language are really instrumental music?? . . .But then what about whale song and the way it changes/evolves?

DANG! I will have to think about this some more.

 

[Guest]

then what about whale song and the way it changes/evolves?

It's always about fish with you. Rybka.





I know - they're mammals.

 

[The_Fool]

Not me. Nope. No thinking allowed. or thinking aloud.

 

[mojo_cat]

I'll see all your Axl Roses and cheesy 60's doo-wop and present the worst song I've ever heard in my life, "Meet Virginia" by Train:

And she wants to live her life
And she thinks about her life
And she wants to be the queen
And she thinks about her scene
Throws her head back and she screams
I don't really wanna live this life

This song cause me physical pain every time i heard it on the radio, which was thirty times a day for a year when I was working midnights. It's a disgusting, cliche ridden piece of mysoginist shit.

And was a huge hit.

I argue further my point of meta-poetry. Catchy music can make you remember anything, like the menemonic device we uded in high school to recall periodic tables and the alphabet and such.

But doesn't that then mean that it's the repetitive musicality that makes it stick in your head? And bring forth the idea that ANY set of words, "poem" or nay, set to music wil become catchy?

I've internalized "Happy Birthday" and of course "O Canada". Also "Muskrat Love".

 

[denis hale]

(Sings)

I dont
wanna grow up

I'm a Toys R Us Kid.


Theres a million different

dum de dum

de dum

da da dum!

 

[denis hale]

Achhh!!!!

I'm a thread killer!

Yikes!


Well, IMO Neil Young is also a great poet. And many old Steely Dan lyrics would have to be called poetry by any sane afficionado.

A whole thread could be started on Steely Dan lyrics.

And then there is Jim Morrison....


DONT LET THIS THREAD DIE WITH ME!

I'll only keep bugging. And bumping.

Ha!

 

[Rybka]

Re: Achhh!!!!

I'm a thread killer!

Yikes!


Well, IMO Neil Young is also a great poet. And many old Steely Dan lyrics would have to be called poetry by any sane afficionado.

A whole thread could be started on Steely Dan lyrics.

And then there is Jim Morrison....


DONT LET THIS THREAD DIE WITH ME!

I'll only keep bugging. And bumping.

Ha!

O.K. What about words that started out as poetry and ended up as songs or music? I think some songwriters start with the lyrics and some start with the music first. Does it make a difference?
And I read somewhere that some of E.E. Cumming's poems had been transformed into instrumental music. Anybody know anything about that?

Regards, Rybka

 

[Angeline]

Okay

I can't take it any more, lol. What difference does it make? If music moves you, isn't that poetry, in a sense--a response to art? And lyrics are not written to stand on their own as poems, though some certainly can.

To wit:

She makes the sign of a teaspoon
He makes the sign of a wave
The poor boy changes clothes and puts on after-shave
To compensate for his ordinary shoes
And she said honey take me dancing
But they ended up by sleeping
In a doorway
By the bodegas and the lights on
Upper Broadway
Wearing diamonds on the soles of their shoes
~ Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes, Paul Simon

*****************
Coyote's in the coffee shop
He's staring a hole in his scrambled eggs
He picks up my scent on his fingers
While he's watching the waitresses' legs
He's too far from the Bay of Fundy
From Appaloosas and Eagles and tides
And the air conditioned cubicles
And the carbon ribbon rides
Are spelling it out so clear
Either he's going to have to stand and fight
Or take off out of here
~ Coyote, Joni Mitchchell

*****************
Life is lonely again,
And only last week, everything seemed so sure.
Now life is awful again,
A trough full of hearts will probably be a bore,

A week in Paris may cure the bite of it
All I want to do is laugh in spite of it
I'll forget you, I will
And yet you are still
Burning inside my brain
~ Lush Life, Billy Strayhorn
*****************

At the moment the music began
And you heard the guitar player starting to sing
You were filled with the beauty that ran
Through what you were imagining
Dreaming of scenes from those songs of love
I was the endless sky
And you were my Mexican dove
~ Linda Paloma, Jackson Brown
*****************

Worry the bottle Mamma, it's grapefruit wine
Kick off your high heel sneakers, it's party time
The girls don't seem to care what's on
As long as it plays till dawn
Nothin' but blues and Elvis
And somebody else's favorite song

Give her some funked up music, she treats you nice
Feed her some hungry reggae, she'll love you twice
The girls don't seem to care tonight
As long as the mood is right

FM - no static at all
~FM, Steely Dan
*****************

Have I doubt when I'm alone
Love is a ring, the telephone
Love is an angel disguised as lust
Here in our bed until the morning comes
Come on now try and understand
The way I feel under your command
Take my hand as the sun descends
They can't touch you now,
Can't touch you now, can't touch you now
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to lust
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to us

~ Beacause the Night, Patti Smith

*****************


I had skin like leather and the diamond-hard look of a cobra
I was born blue and weathered but I burst just like a supernova
I could walk like Brando right into the sun, then dance just like a Casanova
With my blackjack and jacket and hair slicked sweet
Silver star studs on my duds, just like a Harley in heat
When I strut down the street, I could feel its heart beat
The sisters fell back and said, "Don't that man look pretty"
The cripple on the corner cried out, "Nickels for your pity"
Them gasoline boys downtown sure talk gritty
It's so hard to be a saint in the city
~ It's So Hard to Be a Saint in the City, Bruce Springsteen
*****************

And there are tons more examples that, at least to me, are poetry. But I guarantee you, someone out there thinks *this* is poetry--who am I to say no? It's an individual response.


Hey you all look out let a man come in
I got to have fun
I'm gonna do my thing
Way over yonder can you dig that mess
The sister standing out there dressed up
In a brand new mini dress
Look hey over there do you see that boy playing that horn
And dig that soul brother look at him doing the popcorn
~ Let a Man Come in and Do the Popcorn, Part 1, James Brown



Really into Music, too,
Ange

 

[eagleyez]

Have I doubt when I'm alone
Love is a ring, the telephone
Love is an angel disguised as lust
Here in our bed until the morning comes
Come on now try and understand
The way I feel under your command
Take my hand as the sun descends
They can't touch you now,
Can't touch you now, can't touch you now
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to lust
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to us

~ Beacause the Night, Patti Smith

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------


listened to this one this morn..

yes the night Ange...

 

[Angeline]

listened to this one this morn..

yes the night Ange...

oh yes, ee. great song, that. yikes, lol


I forgot Neil Young!


Comes a time when you're driftin'
Comes a time when you settle down
Comes a light feelin's liftin'
Lift that baby right up off the ground.

Oh, this old world keeps spinning round
It's a wonder tall trees ain't layin' down
There comes a time.

You and I we were captured
We took our souls and we flew away
We were right we were giving
That's how we kept what we gave away.

Oh, this old world keeps spinning round
It's a wonder tall trees ain't layin' down
There comes a time.

 

[Icingsugar]

I just decided to flood this thread with random song lyrics I find (and maybe not of the most well known dylanesque kind).

Hold on to yer hats. Your mileage may vary...

-------------

One day I'll just sit and watch it twist and turn
I will ride a bicycle to work
I'll forget everything I ever learned
I'll forget to hit, forget to hurt,
One day I will raise my voice in church
I'll forget the words and just make it up
I'll forget everything I ever heard
and just say hush when it gets too much.

-Rain, An Emotional Fish

 

[Rybka]

Re: Okay - You started it!

I can't take it any more, lol. What difference does it make? If music moves you, isn't that poetry, in a sense--a response to art? And lyrics are not written to stand on their own as poems, though some certainly can.

To wit:

She makes the sign of a teaspoon
He makes the sign of a wave
The poor boy changes clothes and puts on after-shave
To compensate for his ordinary shoes
And she said honey take me dancing
But they ended up by sleeping
In a doorway
By the bodegas and the lights on
Upper Broadway
Wearing diamonds on the soles of their shoes
~ Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes, Paul Simon

Really into Music, too,
Ange

You want Paul Simon? Ya got Paul Simon!

Starting with a classic love song that had to be written by a poet (Guess why?) You mangy Lit. poets, try this on for size!

Kathy's Song - P. Simon, 1965

I hear the drizzle of the rain
Like a memory it falls
Soft and warm continuing
Tapping on my roof and walls

And from the shelter of my mind
Through the window of my eyes
I gaze beyond the rain-drenched streets
To England where my heart lies

My mind's distracted and diffused
My thoughts are many miles away
They lie with you when you're asleep
And kiss you when you start your day

And a song I was writing is left undone
I don't know why I spend my time
Writing songs I can't believe
With words that tear and strain to rhyme

And so you see I have come to doubt
All that I once held as true
I stand alone without beliefs
The only truth I know is you

And as I watch the drops of rain
Weave their weary paths and die
I know that I am like the rain
There but for the grace of you go I

What? You want another one?? O.K. - Write better than this!

For Emily, Whenever I May Find Her - P. Simon, 1966

What a dream I had
Pressed in organdy
Clothed in crinoline
Of smoky burgundy
Softer than the rain

I wandered empty streets
Down past the shop displays
I heard cathedral bells
Tripping down the alleyways
As I walked on

And when you ran to me
Your cheeks flushed with the night
We walked on frosted fields
Of juniper and lamplight
I held your hand

And when I awoke
And felt you warm and near
I kissed your honey hair
With my grateful tears
Oh I love you girl
Oh I love you

How about a short one?

April Come She Will - P. Simon, 1965

April come she will
When streams are ripe and swelled with rain
May, she will stay
Resting in my arms again
June, she'll change her tune
In restless walks she'll prowl the night
July, she will fly
And give no warning to her flight
August, die she must
The autumn winds blow chilly and cold
September I'll remember
A love once new has now grown old

More? You want more? Can you handle more? How about a short one on the passing of life and love

Bookends - P. Simon, 1968

Time it was, and what a time it was, it was
A time of innocence, a time of confidences
Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph
Preserve your memories; they're all that's left you

Then in a longer version

Leaves That Are Green - P. Simon, 1965

I was twenty-one years when I wrote this song
I'm twenty-two now but I won't be for long
Time hurries on
And the leaves that are green turn to brown
And they wither in the wind
And they crumble in your hand

Once my heart was filled with the love of a girl
I held her close but she faded in the night
Like a poem I meant to write
And the leaves that are green turn to brown
And they wither in the wind
And they crumble in your hand

I threw a pebble in a brook
And watched the ripple run away
And they never made a sound
And the leaves that are green turn to brown
And they wither in the wind
And they crumble in your hand

Hello, hello, hello, hello
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
That's all there is
And the leaves that are green turn to brown
And they wither in the wind
And they crumble in your hand

And then for some of our newest poet posters

Flowers Never Bend With The Rainfall - P. Simon, 1965

Through the corridors of sleep
Past shadows dark and deep
My mind dances and leaps in confusion
I don't know what is real
I can't touch what I feel
And I hide behind the shield of my illusion

So I'll continue to continue to pretend
My life will never end
And flowers never bend
With the rainfall

The mirror on my wall
Casts an image dark and small
But I'm not sure at all it's my reflection
I am blinded by the light
Of God and truth and right
And I wander in the night without direction

So I'll continue to continue to pretend
My life will never end
And flowers never bend
With the rainfall

No matter if you're born
To play the King or pawn
For the line is thinly drawn 'tween joy and sorrow
So my fantasy
Becomes reality
And I must be what I must be and face tomorrow

So I'll continue to continue to pretend
My life will never end
And flowers never bend
With the rainfall

There are plenty more, but here is one last one for Zell and some of our other new friends who write on the dark side. - Try and match this classic in your writing.

I Am A Rock - P. Simon, 1965

A winter's day
In a deep and dark December
I am alone
Gazing from my window
To the streets below
On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow

I am a rock
I am an island

I've built walls
A fortress deep and mighty
That none may penetrate
I have no need of friendship
Friendship causes pain
It's laughter and it's loving I disdain

I am a rock
I am an island

Don't talk of love
Well I've heard the word before
It's sleeping in my memory
I won't disturb the slumber
Of feelings that have died
If I never loved I never would have cried

I am a rock
I am an island

I have my books
And my poetry to protect me
I am shielded in my armor
Hiding in my room
Safe within my womb
I touch no one and no one touches me

I am a rock
I am an island

And a rock feels no pain
And an island never cries

Y'all can go home now, but don't forget to blame Angeline for all of this.


Regards, Rybka

 

[Guest]

Re: Re: Okay - You started it!

You want Paul Simon? Ya got Paul Simon! ...........

..........Y'all can go home now, but don't forget to blame Angeline for all of this.


Regards, Rybka

No blame......I sang along.


Thanks.

 

[Icingsugar]

#2 - screwball lyrics

Micro liquid feelings
Will never solve
Pacific problems

Exotic fish will never
be able to walk
As long as we live

Walkers can come first
This golden century
And now I really see
It's still a luxury

-Tuna, Hooverphonic

 

[Icingsugar]

#3 - made me smile

In this quiet little place
I can't imagine what it's like to be back home
Where they care about what time it is
And spend their days answering the phone

And now everything I feel
Whether it's fiction or it's real
It's so much clearer
Like the color of this light
It seems more dangerous and bright
But I don't fear her

In this quiet little place
You run your fingers through my hair and whisper "Hey"
And no matter how I try
I can't seem to think of anything better to say

-Quiet Little Place, K's Choice

 

[Icingsugar]

#4 - sexy finishing lines

you come and get me when i'm all alone
on the corner just skin and bones
fever in and fever out
you're the swinger who brings me doubt
loverboy where you comin' from
down there, out back always on the run
cool, cool, deep blues
you're the shine on my shoes
is it in the damp heat inside of me
or is it in the fire that we collide
i feed you mood swing
but you're never satisfied

-Mood Swing, Luscious Jackson