A Crown of Daisies

SPOILER ALERT: There are new sonnets, below, in honor of William Shakespeare’s birthday!

The actor and producer William Shakespeare was born four hundred and sixty years ago today, on April 23, 1564, in Stratford-upon-Avon, England. William’s father, John Shakespeare, was a glove-maker and wool dealer who also had a number of other occupations. William’s mother, Mary Arden, was the daughter of a gentleman farmer.

Less than three months after John and Mary welcomed baby William, Stratford-upon-Avon received a most unwelcome visitor: the bubonic plague. That year, over two hundred townspeople, representing one seventh of the population, would succumb to the devastating bacterial infection.

In November 1582, eighteen-year-old William Shakespeare married Anne Hathaway, a woman who lived in a village about a mile outside of town. Anne, born Agnes, came from a family of successful sheep farmers. William and Anne were best friends who wanted to create a family together. Theirs was the “marriage of true minds” the poet wrote about in Sonnet 116. Indeed, the two would remain wed for almost thirty-four years, until William’s passing, in 1616.

A daughter, Susanna, was born six months into their union. Hamnet and Judith arrived twenty months later. The twins were named after Hamnet and Judith Sadler, a couple with whom William and Anne were friends. The Sadlers would go on to name a son after William.

Undoubtedly, the greatest tragedy faced by the young Shakespeare family was the crushing loss of their Hamnet, in 1596, due to plague. He was just eleven years old.

In Elizabethan England, 30 to 40 percent of children died before their first birthday, and only three in five survived past the age of ten. Given these statistics, you might think the sudden death of a child would have been almost expected—and, therefore, met with a certain degree of detachment or resignation. You would be wrong.

Today I am sharing two sonnets that might have been written about Hamnet Shakespeare: the first while the poet’s son was still alive; and the second after young Hamnet had been buried in the yard at Holy Trinity Church, in Stratford-upon-Avon.

While Hamnet, the poet’s son, lived:

shady tree

And after Hamnet died:

dressed in black

You might notice something unusual about these two sonnets as well as the last three I posted: They conclude with lyrics from the Beatles. The poems in this post, for example, borrow from “Good Day Sunshine” and “Baby’s in Black.” If you’d like, take a moment to observe how neatly the song lyrics fit into the rhythm of the poetry.

CREDITS: The image of a lamb was generated by Jay Schwartz. Information about John Shakespeare and Mary Arden came from Wikipedia. Statistics regarding the bubonic plague came from the Shakespeare Birthplace Trust and this site. Information about Hamnet and Judith Sadler came from this site. Statistics regarding child mortality in Elizabethan England came from this site.

Your Daddy’s Here

Last night I attended an event, at a theater here in Santa Barbara, commemorating the sixtieth anniversary of the Beatles’ first appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show. The entire CBS broadcast, including commercials (for Anacin and Pillsbury), was shown at the event. The original program aired live from New York City on Sunday, February 9, 1964, at 8:00 p.m., to an audience of 73 million viewers.

The night that John, Paul, George, and Ringo took the stage for the first time in America was also the night Paul’s son would be born, in Liverpool, England, where it was already the next day. These concurrent events inspired my song “Your Old Acoustic,” the first verse of which begins and ends: “You came the night all eyes were watching me… / But you could find me only on TV.”

During their two-week trip, the Beatles would also perform at the Washington Coliseum; Carnegie Hall; and the Deauville Beach Resort, in Miami Beach. While still on American soil, twenty-one-year-old Paul penned a song for his new son: “Beautiful Boy.” Reflecting on the circumstances of becoming a father exactly as the Beatles were striving to take their success to the next level, he wrote: “Life is what happens to you / While you’re busy making other plans.” In another lyric, “Out on the ocean, sailing away / I can hardly wait to see you come of age,” Paul refers to the Atlantic, the ocean that was separating him from his child at that moment.

Am I just making up a story? I might be. I am entirely capable of it. But in case I’m not: happy birthday, my son.

In Mersey’s Jewel

This song has been ready to go for a while, but I’ve been waiting for the right moment to share it with you. As they say, there’s no time like the present! “If I Roam (Bury Me in Liverpool)” is an ode in praise of home. Scroll down to have a listen! I’ve already heard it, so I’ll just ramble on here for a bit.

I started writing songs about two years ago. In all my months of marrying words to melodies, I have developed the following philosophy (a.k.a. haphazard collection of observations):

  1. Seize inspiration—or rather, let it seize you. You can accomplish more in a motivated minute than in a lackluster hour.
  2. Keep the intro brief unless you’re famous. (Notice that my intros are very short.) I’ve heard that people decide within four seconds whether they are going to listen to a song.
  3. Plant surprises throughout your song. Unexpected elements keep the listener engaged. A surprise might be a sound effect, a change in tempo, or a new instrument. (Or you could just yell, “Surprise!”)
  4. Focus on the emotion evoked. Feelings such as joy, desire, and pride connect people to your song, making it an experience.
  5. Think of your song like a guest at a party. Don’t slip out early without saying goodbye, and don’t overstay your welcome. Mingle, tell interesting stories, and leave before the guac turns brown.

Here’s a bonus tip, since you’ve been kind enough to read this far: Always have another project waiting, so you don’t belabor your current effort. You want to feel that pull toward the next song.

“If I Roam (Bury Me in Liverpool)” contains five sound effects from the British Broadcasting Corporation (bbc.co.uk – © 2023 BBC).

If I Roam (Bury Me in Liverpool)

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Title:
“If I Roam (Bury Me in Liverpool)”

Number:
12

Length:
5:13

Vibe/inspiration:
Liverpool, England; traditional Irish instruments

Key:
C major

What I imagine people might say:

  • “Shouldn’t you at least visit a place before you write a song about it?”
  • “She nailed it! Full disclaimer: I’ve never been to Liverpool either.”
  • “Who does she think she is, one of the Beatles?”
  • “Soz, but this song is boss.”
  • “Nice one.”

Lyrics:

If I fall and need a hand
Of all the places in the land—
Carry me to Liverpool
Where folks live by the Golden Rule

If the world forgets my name
And I could use some local fame—
Ferry me to Liverpool
Where I grew up and went to school

If I roam, roam, roam
My soul will call me home
If I roam, roam, roam
My heart will lead me home
Lead me home

If I’m feeling gray and sad
Or if I’m feeling fine and glad—
Tarry me in Liverpool
To meet me mates and grab a stool

If you wonder where I’m free
To be myself and very me—
Query me in Liverpool
Where kettles warm and breezes cool

If I roam, roam, roam
My soul will call me home
If I roam, roam, roam
My heart will lead me home
Lead me home

If you like the way I look
And if I kiss not by the book—
Marry me in Liverpool
G’wed and wed in Mersey’s jewel

If I die in London Town
Don’t let them put me in the ground—
Bury me in Liverpool
St. Peter’s, welcome back your fool!

If I roam, roam, roam
My soul will call me home
If I roam, roam, roam
My heart will lead me home
Lead me home (oh-oh)

If I roam, roam, roam
(Roam, roam, roam)
My soul will call me home
If I roam, roam, roam
(Roam, roam, roam)
My heart will lead me home
Lead me home
Lead me home

Fill Your Boots (or, “Phil—your boots!”)

I’m dusting off a personal favorite from the archive, for new visitors to this blog. “Your Old Acoustic” (listen below!) was the fourth song I ever wrote. I played guitar on it, too, and my old acoustic hasn’t quite forgiven me yet.

I tend to go overboard with verses; it’s not unusual for my songs to have as many as six of them! But “Your Old Acoustic” contains only two verses. It focuses instead on repetition of lines from the chorus. I wanted people to be able to sing along the first time they heard it.

Toward the end of “Your Old Acoustic,” we discover it is being performed in what sounds like a pub. When the song is over, the patrons return to talking and joking. Any intimacy engendered between the singer and the audience has evaporated. The singer has poured her heart out into a void: Her song is meant for one person, who isn’t there. Whom she has no way of reaching.

Your Old Acoustic

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Title:
“Your Old Acoustic”

Number:
4

Length:
3:34

Vibe/inspiration:
Michael Nesmith

Key:
F major

What people have said:

  • “I LOVE this vibe! This is a song I would love to sing myself. I’m sure I’m going to have it in my head over the next days!”
  • “Love it! It made me cry! So beautiful.”
  • “Very nice! I did not cry, but…it was still pretty.”
  • “Loved it! I especially like the end where you make it seem like it’s a recording in front of an audience. Very clever! I have ‘my son’ running through my head.”
  • “Fun song! I like the ‘live’ touches at the end.”
  • “Your collection of hits amazes me. Well done!”

Lyrics:

You came the night all eyes were watching me—
A pretty boy footloose and fancy-free
Toes a-tapping to my song
Rows a-clapping right along
But you could find me only on TV

And I walk
But I cannot go
And I talk
Just so you will know

Dust off your old acoustic
And join the band
Bust out and make some music
With your old man
Gone when you wore baby shoes
And now I only play the blues
Dust off your old acoustic
And join the band

A middle name was all you got from me
A pittance of a rich man’s legacy (legacy)
Thought I’d look you up one day
But I took too long to say
And you inherited a mystery

And I bring (yes, I bring)
All my loving, dear
And I sing (yes, I sing)
Just so you will hear

Dust off your old acoustic
And join the band (my son)
Bust out and make some music
With your old man (my son)
Didn’t try on daddy’s suits
I never saw you fill your boots
Dust off your old acoustic
And join the band

[Instrumental verse]

And I walk (yes, I walk)
But I cannot go
And I talk (yes, I talk)
Just so you will know

Dust off your old acoustic
And join the band (my son) (come on)
Bust out and make some music
With your old man (my son) (all right)
Gone when you wore baby shoes
And now I only play the blues
Dust off your old acoustic
And join the band

Dust off your old acoustic
And join the band (my son)
Dust off your old acoustic
And join the band (my son)
Dust off your old acoustic
And join the band (my son)
Dust off your old acoustic
And join the band

You’ve been lovely
Thank you

Did the Mona Lisa See You?

“Ma Belle” (listen below!) is the kind of song that happens when your heart takes a walk around Paris. Last May, I visited the French capital for the first time. I didn’t realize I had never tasted bread before. Or butter!

In this song, I wanted the name Ma Belle to repeat like the bells of Norte Dame—the medieval Catholic cathedral in Paris known for its French Gothic architecture, colorful rose windows, and massive bells. Notre Dame means “Our Lady,” a reference to the Virgin Mary.

For the record, I know that belle is French for “beautiful,” not “bell.” It’s just a coincidence that I wanted “belle” to sound like a bell!

I do not speak French, let along sing French. I did not intend for “Ma Belle” to have more than a simple refrain in French. But it ended up with three different choruses en français. If my grammar and pronunciation are terrible, please go right ahead and blame Google Translate!

I viewed or visited all the places mentioned in “Ma Belle.” To prove it, I made a music video! It’s a slide show of vacation photos, with a very personal soundtrack.

“Ma Belle” contains two sound effects from the British Broadcasting Corporation (bbc.co.uk – © 2023 BBC), and two sound effects from Zapsplat.com.

Ma Belle

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Title:
“Ma Belle”

Number:
15

Length:
2:47

Vibe/inspiration:
The sights and sounds of Paris, yé-yé

Keys:
B-flat major and G minor

What I imagine people might say:

  • “I’ve never been to Paris, so a spoiler alert would have been nice.”
  • “I enjoyed the vicarious trip around Paris. Next time, why not stop at a café once in a while?”
  • “The video was a nice distraction from the vocals.”
  • “I guess writing a song is one way to get people to look at your holiday snaps.”

Lyrics:

Mon cœur s’appelle Ma Belle

[My heart is called Ma Belle]

When it was just your first Noël
Did you hear Our Lady knell?
Did the merrymakers wake you, Ma Belle?

When you were learning how to spell
Did you ride this carousel?
Did it turn and whirl and twirl you, Ma Belle?

Mon cœur s’appelle Ma Belle
Mon cœur s’appelle Ma Belle
Ma Belle, Ma Belle

[My heart is called Ma Belle
My heart is called Ma Belle
Ma Belle, Ma Belle]

When you were painting with pastel
Did you visit Raphael?
Did the Mona Lisa see you, Ma Belle?

When you were old enough to tell
Did you climb the tour Eiffel?
Did you miss my arm to warm you, Ma Belle?

Mon cœur me la rappelle
Mon cœur me la rappelle
Ma Belle, Ma Belle

[My heart reminds me of her
My heart reminds me of her
Ma Belle, Ma Belle]

[Instrumental chorus]

When you were but a demoiselle
Did you gaze on Sainte-Chapelle?
Did the glass amaze and daze you, Ma Belle?

Before you bade Paris farewell
Did you walk this way, Michelle?
Did the river flow below you, Ma Belle?

Mon cœur est éternel
Mon cœur est éternel
Ma Belle, Ma Belle

[My heart is eternal
My heart is eternal
Ma Belle, Ma Belle]

Mon cœur s’appelle Ma Belle
Ma Belle, Ma Belle

[My heart is called Ma Belle
Ma Belle, Ma Belle]

Bright-Eyed as Athena

Today I am sharing the first song I ever wrote. “Bettina” (listen below!) is unique in that it has two different choruses: one in English, and one in English and German. I don’t speak German, so I’m afraid I might be singing something truly ridiculous!

Here is the chorus that contains some German:

Bettina
Meine kleine Liebe
I love you
So sehr, umso mehr

Here is my intended meaning:

Bettina
My little love
I love you
So much, even more

And here is the probable meaning:

Bettina
I would like to buy a lemon
I love you
Where is the library?

“Bettina” is a lullaby of sorts, so it’s fitting that I composed it on a children’s toy—a plastic keyboard purchased for $14.99 from the local drug store. Although I wrote “Bettina” over two years ago, the inspiration that was in my heart remains. I hope you will enjoy it.

Bettina

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Title:
“Bettina”

Number:
1

Length:
2:34

Vibe/inspiration:
Julie Andrews, Brahms’s lullaby, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” music box

Key:
F major

What I imagine German speakers might say:

  • “If there was any German in that song, I think I may have missed it.”
  • “You should at least watch a few YouTube videos before you start writing in another language.”
  • “Stick to English. Just stick to English.”
  • “My dog speaks better German, and before you ask, he’s not even a German shepherd.”

Lyrics:

Bettina
Bright-eyed as Athena
Hmm-hmm-hmm
I love you
So sweetly and completely
Hmm-hmm-hmm

Bettina
Meine kleine Liebe
I love you
So sehr, umso mehr

[Bettina
My little love
I love you
So much, even more]

I’m sorry that I put you on a shelf
I simply haven’t been myself
It seems a lifetime since I went away
I’ve waited all these years to say

Bettina
Meine kleine Liebe
I love you
So sehr, umso mehr

[Bettina
My little love
I love you
So much, even more]

Although we may be half a world apart
You stay with me inside my heart
I can’t believe I lived to see this day
I’ve made it all these years to say

I love you

[Instrumental chorus]

[Instrumental interlude]

My lucky stars, I have a second chance
To set aright this chaste romance
Oh, my desire is nourished by delay
I’ve traded all my tears to say

Bettina
Meine kleine Liebe
I love you
So sehr, umso mehr

[Bettina
My little love
I love you
So much, even more]

And I have waited all these years to say
I love you

I Was Not Made to Roam

teaThis time last week (as I write), I was enjoying afternoon tea at The Berkeley, a lovely hotel in the Knightsbridge area of London. To be more precise, given the time difference between England’s capital and where I am now, afternoon tea was a recent pleasant memory.

writing sonnetEarlier in the week, I had attended two performances at Shakespeare’s Globe, located on the south bank of the River Thames—so perhaps it’s not a surprise that I have a new sonnet to share with you! I jotted down some ideas for the sonnet during the interval (British for “intermission”) in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, on Tuesday. By The Comedy of Errors, on Thursday, the poem was starting to take shape.

This sonnet, like my previous two, is written from the perspective of the person who wrote the works attributed to William Shakespeare—someone very close to him, whose identity I hinted at in an earlier post. Happy guessing!

suburban skies

’Tis I You Seek

spoiler alertThe poem I am sharing today strongly suggests the identity of the person who wrote the works attributed to William Shakespeare. That’s right: the pesky “authorship question” has finally been solved!

If you’ve never heard of the authorship question, it’s the controversial theory that William Shakespeare, due to his humble upbringing, was not capable of writing the poems and plays credited to him. Therefore, someone else must have written them—but who?

If you’re wondering whether William Shakespeare was even a real person:

  • William Shakespeare’s baptism was recorded at Holy Trinity Church in Stratford-upon-Avon, England, on April 26, 1564.
  • According to surviving documents, William Shakespeare married Anne Hathaway in November 1582. William was eighteen; Anne was twenty-six, and pregnant with their first child.
  • William Shakespeare’s legally validated will was signed on March 25, 1616, four weeks before his death.

If you’re curious how long the authorship question has been around, it originated during William Shakespeare’s lifetime.

As a Shakespeare fan since I was thirteen, an English Literature major in college, and a devoted theatergoer, I never had much time for the authorship question. To me, the works were the thing. Did it really matter who wrote them?

But when I realized who wrote the works of Shakespeare, I changed my mind. The realization arose more from common sense than from research. If you’d like the same joy of discovery, I have provided five clues, below!

Clue #1: The person who wrote Shakespeare’s works was very close to William Shakespeare, as this person’s plays were performed by William’s acting company. William Shakespeare belonged to the King’s Men acting company, known earlier as the Lord Chamberlain’s Men, for most of his career.

Clue #2: This person was able to write fully realized female characters in an era when women were regarded as weak and subservient to men. Think about Shakespeare’s rich and memorable portrayals of Juliet, Lady Macbeth, Desdemona, Cleopatra, Rosalind, Portia, Viola, Beatrice, Katherine (Kate), Titania, Cordelia, and Ophelia, among other female characters.

Clue #3: This person hotly encouraged a young man to marry and to have a child. Of Shakespeare’s 154 sonnets, the first 126 are addressed to a young man known as the “Fair Youth.” The first 17 of these sonnets are referred to as the “procreation sonnets.” In the procreation sonnets, Shakespeare urges the Fair Youth to wed and to become a father, so that this handsome young man might perpetuate his beauty and live forever through his offspring.

Clue #4: This person is someone whom scholars have overlooked for many years. If the “authorship question” holds merit, why hasn’t a definitive candidate for the author of Shakespeare’s works been recognized yet? What type of person would have been dismissed out of hand—or never considered in the first place?

Clue #5: A final nod to the identity of the individual who wrote the works of Shakespeare can be found in the following poem. This is the sonnet Shakespeare never wrote (until now!) about meeting the Dark Lady, the poet’s famous mistress. Of Shakespeare’s 154 sonnets, the final 28 are devoted to the Dark Lady. Remember, I wrote this poem from the perspective of the person who penned the works of Shakespeare.

standing there

I’ll be back in a future post to let you know if your guess is the same as mine!

CREDIT: The featured image for this post is Woman in Triangles (1909), by the Czech painter František Kupka (1871–1957), photo taken by me at the Centre Pompidou, in Paris.

My Mistress’ Eyes

Don’t be alarmed, but I’ve written a poem. Some people are frightened of poetry. This fear even has a name: metrophobia. I understand. I’m afraid of spiders. And brown spots on avocados. But there’s no right or wrong way to read a poem. What does it mean to you? How does it make you feel? That’s what matters. Forget what a teacher might say about it, or even what the poet might have intended.

The poem I am sharing today is a redo of a famous Shakespearean sonnet, the one that starts, “My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun.” Why reimagine a classic? To redeem Shakespeare’s maligned mistress, known as the “Dark Lady.” What began as a joke between lovers circa 1590 has prompted generations of merciless schoolchildren to mock the Dark Lady’s fictitious flaws, which include bristly hair, foul breath, and a lumbering gait.

In “Apology to the Dark Lady” (below right), I have retained all the original rhymes from Shakespeare’s sonnet (below left), but every insult has been replaced—by a compliment of the very highest order! Let’s give the Bard’s enthralling paramour her due, at long last. And let’s give the actor William Shakespeare a standing ovation as his honorary birthday approaches, on April 23.

my mistress side by side copy

CREDIT: The featured image for this post is The Two Sisters (1843), by the French Romantic painter Théodore Chassériau (1819–1856), photo taken by me. Chassériau painted this portrait of his sisters Adèle and Aline when he was twenty-three. When I saw The Two Sisters at the Louvre last year, I was utterly transfixed.

We’ve Got Love

I have a spring in my step today because I am springing a new song on you. It’s called “Spring’s Out.” You don’t have to spring for it because it’s free for the listening. (Spring into action and click below!) Even if you’re no spring chicken, I hope this song makes you spring to your feet and dance a little jig. Punxsutawney Phil predicted six more weeks of winter, but it looks like an early spring to me!

Disclaimers: I am not a musician. I don’t “play” an instrument. I never practice. But that doesn’t stop me from trying to learn a tune for the sake of a song. For “Spring’s Out,” I managed to strum a ukulele, both up and down. In the same vein, I don’t pretend to be a singer. My recordings are demos, waiting to be sung by someone who can actually sing. My songs are, however, invitations into my heart.

“Spring’s Out” contains four sound effects, from Zapsplat.com.

Spring’s Out

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Title:
“Spring’s Out”

Number:
14

Length:
1:53

Vibe/inspiration:
Nostalgia

Keys:
F major and B-flat major

What I imagine people might say if they had to use the word spring:

  • “Maybe the next one will be a winner; hope springs eternal.”
  • “I’d like to spring to the defense of this song, but I can’t.”
  • “If I was doing spring cleaning, this song wouldn’t make it.”
  • “My springer spaniel could produce something better, if you know what I mean.”
  • Spring forward, fall on your face.”

Lyrics:

Who needs stuff
When we’ve got love?

Spring’s out in the armchair
If you do your crossword there
Beware
It’s gotten rather threadbare—
It could snare
Your derrière

Sixteen across
Is albatross

Spring’s out, spring’s out
Shimmy down the downspout, baby
No doubt, no doubt
Jimmy’s bedroom light is out!

Who needs stuff
When we’ve got love?

Spring’s out in the ceiling
Give the roofing man a ring-
A-ling
You’d better move your six-string
Could you bring
A bucket-thing?

Come rain or shine
The weather’s fine

Spring’s out, spring’s out
Shimmy down the downspout, baby
No doubt, no doubt
Jimmy’s bedroom light is out!

[Instrumental chorus]

Who needs stuff
When we’ve got love?

Spring’s out in the garden
Hollyhock and hyacinth
Are in
Here’s Nora with a clothespin—
How’ve you been?
Your kith and kin?

Forget me not
If I should rot

Spring’s out, spring’s out
Shimmy down the downspout, baby
No doubt, no doubt
Jimmy’s bedroom light is out!

Spring’s out, spring’s out
Scurry up the downspout, baby
Don’t pout, don’t pout
Hurry up, the sun is out!