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Glenn Sonnenberg

Musings from the Bunker 3/6/21

Good morning and happy weekend!


MUSIC


70 London West End performers singing “When Tomorrow Comes” from Les Miz: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0kIhBgQAw3U


The Sounds of Silence,” in a completely different arrangement and mood, by Disturbed:


POETRY


I have been focusing on great lyrics that are poetic. One of our greatest poets is Paul Simon:

The Sounds of Silence


Hello darkness, my old friend

I've come to talk with you again

Because a vision softly creeping

Left its seeds while I was sleeping

And the vision that was planted in my brain

Still remains

Within the sound of silence


In restless dreams I walked alone

Narrow streets of cobblestone

'Neath the halo of a street lamp

I turned my collar to the cold and damp

When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light

That split the night

And touched the sound of silence


And in the naked light, I saw

Ten thousand people, maybe more

People talking without speaking

People hearing without listening

People writing songs that voices never share

And no one dared

Disturb the sound of silence


"Fools", said I, "You do not know

Silence like a cancer grows

Hear my words that I might teach you

Take my arms that I might reach you"

But my words, like silent raindrops fell

And echoed

In the wells of silence


And the people bowed and prayed

To the neon god they made

And the sign flashed out its warning

In the words that it was forming

And the sign said, "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls

And tenement halls"

And whispered in the sound of silence


And then this poem on loneliness and isolation:


Dance Russe

By William Carlos Williams


If I when my wife is sleeping

and the baby and Kathleen

are sleeping

and the sun is a flame-white disc

in silken mists

above shining trees,—

if I in my north room

dance naked, grotesquely

before my mirror

waving my shirt round my head

and singing softly to myself:

“I am lonely, lonely.

I was born to be lonely,

I am best so!”

If I admire my arms, my face,

my shoulders, flanks, buttocks

against the yellow drawn shades,—


Who shall say I am not

the happy genius of my household?



Happy weekend,


Glenn

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