Poem To Music
I have a few of these poem-to-music ideas. To me they are different from a song in that the verse is less conformed to the key and rhythm of the music. Do you know what I mean? The words float in and out of time with no attention to melody or bars of music.
Why did I make this? I’ve always been in love with words and their ability to convey vivid images and emotions into one’s head, or should I say, from one’s head? I can get lost with a good book or poem – hard copy or audio version. Writing poetry is not something I’ve thought much to do, other than when tethered to my songwriting in the form of lyrics. I must say that when writing a song (words and music) aspects like melody, harmony, rhythm, and of course the lyrics can change due to an obvious need to conform with one another (yes, even Don Glen Vliet’s songs conformed to something). The lyrics (in my case) are usually the most malleable and therefore necessitating change. There have been countless times when I’ve written (IMHO) a perfectly crystalized sentence to then alter begrudgingly, chop, and stuff into a melody and or a locked meter. There have been fewer times when I write words where they luckily fall in-step with whatever chord sequence or melody in which I am occupied.
Lately (for the past 6 years) I’ve been writing and collecting poems, maybe for a book, maybe for emotional self-preservation, maybe just to pass the time. These I’ve set aside to not be tampered with by the whims of my song creation. I just want to let them be.
Honestly, I am reticent to make these naked expressions public because, well, when lyrics are sung and coupled with a tune they gain confidence, when just spoken they become much more personal and revealing in their undress. Yet, “Damn the torpedoes!” Enough said!
Here is a poem written, framed, and set forth in this month of June. It’s up to you if it resonates and conjures meaning in your own head. I hope it does. I had fun creating the visual attachment to the poem. It seemed right for how I feel about the words. More to come.
Brett William Kull
25th June 2021
June Is A Passing Night on the Motorway
On the Motorway
June is a night passing The honeysuckle winnows by The motorway winnows by
Fields then, now, soon Cool nights, pupil moon
Lightening bugs thinking
Forgiving, fading, far, scarce, gone
We move on, they move on, I move on
Sweet life bursts out Smelling green in the bomb and blur
I move through this tonight Or move with it
There is something the night wants to say It says, “Stop and be; just be” I don’t know what this means I try
Crying with window wind…but June just is A passing night on the motorway