“I kept turning in new songs, thinking like, ‘Is this what you want? Is this what you want?’ And it was always a big thumbs down, so I ended up writing ‘Love Song’ out of frustration.” – pop singer/songwriter Sara Bareilles
You are forcing me to be a poet, a lyricist; someone who can paint with words.
I can wax on and on, humorously or solemnly, about the state of affairs we share in common, or describe an experience, or relate a memory. But to repeat an opening line? You are forcing me to be a poet, a lyricist; someone who can paint with words.
I can create a character, or two, maybe even three or four, plop them down in a dramatic set of circumstances and plot out an entire fiction through their dialogue; their thoughts; their actions (successfully or not)… But to repeat an opening line? You are forcing me to be a poet, a lyricist; someone who can paint with words.
I can’t imagine what I’d do if I had to write a song. I can’t imagine the tune I’d hear if I had to write a verse. I can see myself sitting at the laptop, vacantly staring at the far beyond, with the trees’ limbs circling around and around in the breeze, wondering when their swirling branches will at last whirl out the words that will turn my ponderous prose to pretty poetry.You see, I can’t see, the words, that is, ebbing and flowing, turning from one thing to the other, since you are forcing me to be a poet, a lyricist; someone who can paint with words.
I envy those for whom writing poetry and lyrics are things that do not need to be forced, but come as effortlessly as the strokes of the paintbrush in the painter’s hand. I admire their artistry, for it completely escapes me. They hear the melody and they see the music, then, as a conductor with his baton, they direct its expression through the words they compose. Truly, the stuff on which dreams are made, and for which a wallflower like me will always sigh.
from “Love Song” by Sara Bareilles
…Blank stares at blank pages
No easy way to say this
You mean well, but you make this hard on me
I’m not gonna write you a love song
’cause you asked for it
’cause you need one, you see…
I see I’m not alone: