Tears of a Clown -- William 'Smokey' Robinson

Guest poem submitted by Gerry Rowe:

(Poem #1053) Tears of a Clown Now if there's a smile on my face it's only there tryin' to fool the public but when it comes down to foolin' you; Now honey, that's quite a different subject But don't let my glad expression give you the wrong impression Really I'm sad I'm sadder than sad You're gone and I'm hurtin' so bad Like a clown I pretend to be glad Now there's some sad things known to man but ain't too much sadder than the tears of a clown when there's no one around Now if I appear to be carefree it's only to camouflage my sadness In order to keep my pride I try to cover the hurt with a show of gladness But don't let my show convince you that I've been happy since you decided to go Oh, I need you so I'm hurt and I want you to know Now there's some sad things known to man but ain't too much sadder than the tears of a clown when there's no one around Just like Pagliacci did I try to keep my sadness hid Smiling in the public eye But in my lonely room I cry the tears of a clown when there's no one around Now if there's a smile on my face Don't let my glad expression Give you the wrong impression. Don't let this smile I wear Make you think that I don't care Really I'm sad Hurtin' so bad... -- William 'Smokey' Robinson

(Song credited to W. Robinson/H. Cosby/S. Wonder)

Why Smokey Robinson on the Minstrels? It's not a reason, but Bob Dylan
allegedly once referred to Robinson as America's Greatest Living poet. When
allegedly queried about this he allegedly said that he had in fact meant to
say Arthur Rimbaud! Also, Smokey Robinson is definitely a minstrel and this
is a minstrel's song!

Stevie Wonder, who co-wrote Tears of a Clown, also nominates William
Robinson as an all time-great lyricist. I have to say that if the song
wasn't composed and sung so nicely I might never have noticed these lyrics
but once I did I found them more than up to snuff (English understatement
for very good indeed).

The starting point is fairly standard for a pop tune but it's elevated by
clever use of the clown image, tremendous metre that sings and reads equally
well and some fine rhyming that never diverts the piece. The whole thing is
very cogent and beautifully crafted.

I like the internal rhyme of 'convince you' with 'since you'.

Pagliacci is an opera by Leoncavallo in which a clown called Canio sings a
lament similar in substance to Tears of a Clown. Pagliacci wasn't a
character as such but what the hell!

If you're wondering who Smokey Robinson is you could check out a host of
websites for details. Briefly, soul singer, songwriter, Motown producer who
wrote many hits for himself and others. According to one website he's still
looking for gigs in his sixties so you could hire him!

Gerry.

Cats -- A S J Tessimond

Guest poem submitted twice in quick succession, by Gerry Roweand Leoni Burke :

(Poem #1010) Cats Cats no less liquid than their shadows Offer no angles to the wind. They slip, diminished, neat through loopholes Less than themselves; will not be pinned To rules or routes for journeys; counter Attack with non-resistance; twist Enticing through the curving fingers And leave an angered empty fist. They wait obsequious as darkness Quick to retire, quick to return; Admit no aim or ethics; flatter With reservations; will not learn To answer to their names; are seldom Truly owned till shot or skinned. Cats no less liquid than their shadows Offer no angles to the wind. -- A S J Tessimond

[Leoni's comments]

I learnt this poem when I was a child for my elocution class.  You should
really read it aloud as the words slither and twist just like a cat in
motion. It's one of the best descriptive poems about cats that I've ever
read.

[Gerry's comments]

The couplet with which this poem opens and closes contains a pair of images
beautifully contrived to convey the morally, emotionally and physically
elusive feline nature. The lines that fall between the opening and closing
are slightly more down-to-earth but have two great virtues: firstly they
scan and rhyme very pleasingly; secondly they consist of a list of terse
descriptive statements of such evident or near-as-dammit truth that you read
each one off with growing admiration for the poet's powers of observation
and expression.

This is my favourite cat poem because, apart from being beautifully written,
it is unsentimental and relatively free of the anthropomorphic tendency,
just full of shrewd respect for an animal that appears incapable of losing
its dignity and right to self determination in any relationship with a human
even, perhaps especially, with a person claiming to be its 'owner'.

I'm afraid I know nothing of A.S.J. Tessimond. I came across another of his
or her cat poems that wasn't as good but for me this one stands alone above
all others on the theme.

Chain Lightning -- Steely Dan

Guest poem submitted by Gerry Rowe:

(Poem #965) Chain Lightning Some turnout, a hundred grand Get with it we'll shake his hand Don't bother to understand Don't question the little man Be part of the brotherhood Yes it's chain lightning It feels so good Hush brother, we cross the square Act natural like you don't care Turn slowly and comb your hair Don't trouble the midnight air We're standing just where he stood It was chain lightning It feels so good -- Steely Dan

A lot of Steely Dan (Donald Fagen and Walter Becker) songs are very
successful recastings of standard forms. Chain Lightning is one such. It has
a standard key note-dominant-seventh kind of chord sequence. However the
chords chosen are not the usual ones but a set of more recherche, and very
effective, other ones. This is why the tune sounds both familiar and unusual
at first listening (and ultimately very pleasing).

The same kind of care and skill goes into Steely Dan lyrics, which have been
called wry, ironic and super-clever - but never trivial. Chain Lightning
deals with territory probably never explored elsewhere in music - the
subjective feelings of participants in a political rally addressed by a
powerful orator (whether of left or right is not stated). These verses
convey the paradox that the words and ideas of demagogues (and this comment
may apply to any politician) may not stand up to close inspection but may
still make listeners feel very good.

For those that like it the music of Steely Dan creates a very agreeable, and
enduring, sensation of being expertly and assiduously entertained. It makes
you feel good (and is worth more than any amount of political oratory!). In
my case my attention only turns later to the lyrics which always turn out to
be full of added value, to say the least. So it is with Chain Lightning. If
you can, listen to it, on 'Katy Lied', to get the full experience.

It's an interesting question as to who exactly the narrator is. The
author/auteur directing his characters through a short film-scene? An
initiate mentally rehearsing advice to a neophyte?  A Travis Bickle talking
to himself in quiet ecstasy? This open vagueness goes well with the the
theme of a dubious political excitement that is the more chilling for being
savoured rather than outwardly acclaimed.

Gerry.

Love bade me welcome -- George Herbert

Guest poem submitted by Gerry Rowe:

(Poem #820) Love bade me welcome Love bade me welcome, yet my soul drew back, Guilty of dust and sin. But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack From my first entrance in, Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning If I lack'd anything. "A guest," I answer'd, "worthy to be here"; Love said, "You shall be he." "I, the unkind, the ungrateful? ah my dear, I cannot look on thee." Love took my hand and smiling did reply, "Who made the eyes but I?" "Truth, Lord, but I have marr'd them; let my shame Go where it doth deserve." "And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?" "My dear, then I will serve." "You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat." So I did sit and eat. -- George Herbert

This poem may have a strong appeal even to those who, like me, are not
practitioners of religion but who are not entirely averse thereto, and
sometimes wish that they could find some of what is so attractively
described in its verses.

In the first verse Love is presented as a person of unknown gender,
appearance or occupation to be imagined as you will. This is not the love
laid down as an obligation in the Christian Ten Commandments (love thy
neighbour); still less is it the passionate love that may entail so much
struggle and potential hardship. It is a soothing love of welcome, an
observant, encouraging, solicitous, hospitable love that provides exactly
what the narrator needs (acceptance, anticipation and painless removal of
feelings of unworthiness) and demands nothing more than that the narrator
sit down and partake of a meal of love itself! What love could better that?

In the course of the second and third verses it becomes clear that this Love
is in fact the christian god, a vision of a version of Christ.

In this poem Love leads the narrator to self-acceptance. "My dear, then I
will serve." 'Serve' is used interestingly here: more, in my opinion, in the
sense of 'to be sufficient, good enough' than in the more obvious one.

The metrical scheme (iambic pentameters alternating with lines of three feet
of two syllables) allows for enjambement (but without creating long phrases)
and also for short, stand-alone questions and statements. Excellent for the
variations required by dialogue.

I know of two choral settings of this poem from the twentieth century: by
Vaughan Williams in his Five Mystical Songs and by John Tavener in a
standalone version. The latter is exceptionally good and contributes a good
deal to my appreciation of this beautiful poem.

Gerry Rowe.

[Minstrels Links]

Poem #391, The Pulley  -- George Herbert
Poem #567, Easter Wings -- George Herbert
Poem #546, The Sick Rose -- William Blake
Poem #771, The Divine Image -- William Blake
Poem #26, Jerusalem  -- William Blake
Poem #66, The Tyger  -- William Blake
Poem #97, The Fly  -- William Blake
Poem #368, Auguries of Innocence  -- William Blake
Poem #330, A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning  -- John Donne
Poem #384, Song  -- John Donne
Poem #403, A Lame Beggar  -- John Donne
Poem #465, The Sun Rising  -- John Donne
Poem #796, Death Be Not Proud (Holy Sonnets: X) -- John Donne