At the Garden State Plaza
There's wonder to spare
By the grand old Venetian
Carousel in the square
It's got ivory steeds
To stir up the air
Creating a wind
With a whimsical flare
O What do you dream
When you wistfully stare
When the wind from the carousel
Ruffles your hair
See the smiles on the faces
Of kids spinning round
And let your mind wander
With calliope sound
If you're off to Paramus
And the Carousel Square
Say hello to the girl
With the chestnut brown hair
She sits all alone
And wistfully stares
O what does she dream
Does anyone care
O What do you dream
When you wistfully stare...
O the carousel starts
With a ring of the bell
Will you be lost in a dream
Or transformed for a spell
Does the wind stir your heart
With phantom embraces
Or just blow your mind
To far away places
At the Garden State Plaza
All the children will grin
As your cares fly away
With the carousel wind
And I think of the girl
With the long chestnut hair
It's been quite a while
Since I last saw her there
O What do you dream
When you wistfully stare...
You can't always find a silver lining in London, sometimes you have to create
it yourself. That's why my Granddad used to hand my mother a broom and say:
"Here's the broom go sweep the fog away."
I have two black and white snapshots of Granddad; in one he stands by a moving
van with wooden wheels; in the other he strikes a comical sailor pose. Granddad
was a mover by day; by night a tap dancer, performing vaudeville.
In the early Sixties, Nanny and Granddad left London's East End and settled
in TimmIns, a mining town in Northern Ontario. They came to visit us in Milton
one summer; one of the few times I saw them.
I dandled on Granddad's knee on the verandah as he joked around. Some dandelion
seeds floated by and he called them, "Paratroopers." The war had left a deep
impression on Granddad, but he tried not to let it show. I asked my mother why
his eyes looked away. She said it was 'shell shock' from the trenches.
Nanny and Granddad gave me a cardboard cutout of Buckingham Palace. I lined
up the miniature guardsmen in the car's rear window as we headed to the beach.
Granddad struck the pose of a sailor and Mom took the shot with her Brownie
camera.
Before they left we put a thick plank in the backyard for Granddad to do his
train dance. The dance mimicked a locomotive, starting slowly; picking up speed
as he roared down the track with his heavy brogues a blur.
Not long after they left I heard my mother say, "He has a heart the size of
London. Whenever I was sad he'd hand me a broom and say..." My mother had learned
how to cut through clouds herself; she kept a stiff upper lip. We made the long
trip north and parked by the red brick hospital. Everyone went in except for
me and my brother, Kim. They had told us that Granddad was dying of cancer.
"It's better if you remember him the way he was."
When we returned I moved the plank and saw that the grass beneath had turned
white. No one had touched the plank since hearing the bad news. In the silence
Dandelions stood like the Queens guardsmen with their fur hats. The spheres
were like another world. A breeze blew the mane off a dandelion and I thought
of what Granddad had said: "Here's the broom, go sweep away the fog."
Grandpa had shell shock
From World War One
Yet his heart was
The size of London
He did a little soft shoe
Like a raggedy rogue
One last time made
Pistons of his brogues
A gentle wind
Could shake up
Your world
When dandelions
Turn to gray
Just think of Grandpa
He gave me a model
Of Buckingham Palace
Cardboard guardsmen
Assembled in a row
He was undaunted
With an"about face"
Dandelion regiments
Lost their yellow
A gentle wind
Could shake up
Your world...
I was just a child
Dandling on his knees
As dandelion paratroopers
Floated on the breeze
I didn't get to see him
Those days were too gray
Grandpa said "Here's the broom
Go Sweep the fog away."
A gentle wind
Could shake up
Your world...
Long ago I had a dream
That I would be a star
And so I played an open stage
But didn't get that far
Hanging out with a Handful of Stars
Chasing the night away
Our dreams to make it to the top
Missed the light of day
And like the light of an ancient star
T hat reaches us this day
I'd like my song to reach to you
After I fade away
Stars are bound to drift apart
The universe expands
It's sad to see on looking back
Our dreams got out of hand
I might have climbed right up the charts
Or burned up in a dive
But heaven helped me on the way
And kept the dream alive
And like the light of an ancient star
T hat reaches us this day
I'd like my song to reach to you
After I fade away
There was a wall at the open stage
Where stars would leave their names
This song goes out to everyone
Who shares the quest for fame
The world becomes a brighter place
When dreamers take a chance
And like all stars that fill up space
They need no song to dance
The silent hearts within us all
Are longing to be heard
I only hope my long lost friends
Will find me in these words
As a budding photographer I was intrigued by an elderly couple in formal attire gazing though coin operated binoculars atop the Tokyo Tower. The "Smiling Queens" were a group of Fifties dancers at Harajuku Park. I wanted to photograph the couple as "traditional Japan looking to the future." But that would have been an imposition so I made up the line about leaving my camera on the dashboard of the car.
I went to the tower
And I saw the
Smiling Queen
She was looking
Up at the sky
Standing at the spyglass
In a dress of gold
With her man in black tie
You may think
The stars are brighter
Just beyond our galaxy
I don't know
I've Never been there
'Cept in flights of fantasy
The man in black tie
And the Smiling Queen
They were dressed in
Traditional attire
While most people
Turned the spyglass down
Their aspirations
Were higher
You may think
The stars are brighter...
"Take a photo
Of that couple
As they're looking
For the star"
"I regret
I left my Camera
On the dashboard
Of the car
And so the photo
That I meant to take
Was the old world
Looking at the new
But they weren't
Looking at
A modern skyline
They were waiting
For the stars
To shine through
You may think
The stars are brighter...
When you venture far enough away
The earth looks like a ball
If the shadow of a line appears
That would be the Great Wall
It's like looking at a heart that's torn
To see this World of doubt
For half of us are locking in
What the other half locks out
A revolution of heart
Will break down every wall
Why can't we stand together
For the good of one and all
Where there's freedom people will create
Boundaries on their own
Some may crush you if you stumble on
Their precious pile of stones
Without freedom the stones are crushed
To reinforce the wall
And fools line up to grab the pieces
When tyranny takes a fall
A revolution of heart...
Can we ever come together as one
Walking hand in hand
With division in our own hearts
How can we make a stand
Some walls may be just paper thin
Some are as thick as your skin
And where the wall around you ends
Is where the world begins
I'm a brave young spaceman
Just beyond your sky
In my hour of darkness
You see me twinkling by
Looking out my porthole
At that ball of white and blue
I wish that you could see the world
The way I do
I can see no boundaries
Beyond the sea and sand
Clouds are swirling fingerprints
Touched by unseen hands
Looking out my porthole
At that ball of white and blue
I wish that you could see the world
The way I do
I heard a voice within my heart
Don't keep me in the dark
To some I am the brightest star
To some a dormant spark
You don't have to leave this world
To feel my love is true
I wish that you could see the world
The way I do
To love you is like climbing
A mountain white with snow
I'd like to reach out to you
But it seems so far you know
So many jagged peaks
And things I just don't like
But you might be worth the trip
So I just might take you up
On that hike
Imaginary mountain
Between your heart and mine
Nothing's insurmountable
When your love is so divine
The sun shines on the mountain
The streams are charged with gold
There just might be some nuggets
In all that icy cold
Into the distant valleys
Pure white water flows
I'd like to climb that mountain
But I just might get frozen
To my toes
The lakes form in the valleys
More water's on the rise
When love melts snowy peaks
The mountains aren't so high
The glacier in my heart
Warmed by your romance
Could break the ice with me
And I just might become
An avalanche
As I went out one wintry day
Into a brilliant orange sunrise
I saw before me on the way
Something glowing in the ice
O it had snowed an inch or so
The scene was something to behold
For where someone had gone before
Footprints now had turned to gold
As I walked on the road ahead
Where the snow had fallen down
I saw each step as a golden thread
The evergreens in pure white gowns
Who left these footprints in the snow
To shine on like a golden seam
Is there an earthly way to know
The inspiration to a dream
I thought about the frozen prints
That shone like gold in the morning sun
And it became quite evident
They could have been left by anyone
But who among us here today
Deserves to leave where we have trod
Golden footprints on the way
And lead us on our walk with God
(Inspired by the "fearful symmetry" of William Blake's "The Tyger")
Dancing in the dappled light
Like a spot of sun through the trees
There's a Tiger Swallowtail
Floating gently with the breeze
Who made the Tiger Swallowtail
Who gave the caterpillar wings
Did He think we'd gaze at it
And dream of higher things
It's just a glimpse of paradise
Through yellow stained glass wings
Did God gave us the butterflies
To dream of greater things
Such delightful symmetry
Has nearly got me overwhelmed
If God made creatures such as these
Then why not other realms
The Master once carved
In the finest marble
Something to reflect
His eternal heart
A man and woman
Wrapped in one embrace
It was never meant
To break apart
The marble had one flaw
He warned the apprentice
Stay clear of that place
You'll soon have my blessing
To create your own
Loving embrace
Let me be the marble
Where the Master's
Hand has passed
Let me be embraced by a love
That's meant to last
For we are all one part
Of the Masterpiece of Heart
Just before the work
Was to be unveiled
The apprentice chiseled
In a tragic mistake
Being tempted
To add a finishing touch
It caused
The whole creation to break
The Master's heart
Was crushed
A multitude of hands
Made a mess on their own
And then the wind scattered
What was once
Magnificent stone
Let me be the marble
Where the Master's
Hand has passed...
Then one man
Found a way
To restore the piece
Which had finally turned
To a dust so fine
It's in seeing each person
As a work of heart
We are all a part
Of His great design
Now the marble's
In our hands
We must all become
A loving embrace
For the Master is longing
For each of us
To be taking our place
While singing on an open stage
A messenger came along
And told me of a higher place
Where love's the only song
I took the torch and followed
To the dungeon we went down
"From here you work your way
To the tower and the crown"
Ah but...
Who will carry
The torch for me
When my arms
Are tired And who
Will sing my song
When my voice
Has expired
For many days I lingered
In the courtyard of a king
And this is what he said to me
When it came my chance to sing
"Outside these walls the wind sings
Where good crops are sown
Within these walls there's but a draft
To stir a seed from a stone"
About halfway up the tower
My lips had lost their fire
My hands were getting stiff
I couldn't strum my lyre
"Who'll lift this torch its heavy
Who'll march on the big walk"
"Try standing on your own feet
When your heart's a heavy rock"
With scolding tenderness
"The garden that I gave to you
Has turned to wilderness
Some stones I see are stained with blood
Some stones have gathered moss
I look beyond the stones and ask
Who'll bear my heavy cross"
It's my song
And I'm gonna sing it
You know it
Just occurred to me
That it's my life
And I'm gonna live it
So you better
Just let me be
Forget the words
I'll just wing it
It's my song
And I'm gonna sing it
Cause I've been silent
For far too long
Now I'm gonna
Fill the world with song
It's my ship and
I'm gonna sail it
I don't rely
Upon the stars
I'll grab
The tail of a comet
And jot it
Down in my memoirs
Forget the words
I'll just wing it...
Too many clowns
On the bandwagon
Don't know how to
Keep a beat
Just don't let them
Throw you off
Cause It's nasty
On the street
It's my tale
And I'm gonna tell it
There's nothing
I'd rather do
Cause I make
Something
Out of nothing
No one has seen
My point of view
Forget the words
I'll just wing it...
I dreamed of endless rows
Of thousands of soldiers
They all threw down their guns
The battlefield was plowed
To endless perfect rows
Of sunflowers facing the sun
Yes they all turned to face the sun
You may turn
Your tanks to tractors
You may plow
The battlefields in a row
But you've got to plant
Your seeds with love
If you want
A good thing to grow
But the great war machine
It churned up disgust
And blocked the sun
With smoky skies
And when the dust settled
The ink on the treaties dried
The fruits were small in size
A good yield was not realized
Then the soldiers came
From either side
And stood where their
Friends had died
Veterans shared a tear
With former foes
And where the tears fell
Rows of sunflowers grow
And they stand in perfect rows
In the Atlantic Ocean
There's a whale with the blues
He may have a great big heart
But there's no one to give his love to
Searching through the ocean
Round and round and round
There just aren't so many
Blue whales to be found
When a blue whale
Has the blues
He'll be wailing
All day long
Miles and miles
Through the waves
You can hear
The sad sad song
In the Pacific Ocean
There's a whale also blue
She may have a great big heart
But there's no one to give her love to
Searching through the ocean
Round and round and round
There just aren't so many
Blue whales to be found
When a blue whale
Has the blues
She'll be wailing
All day long
Miles and miles
Through the waves
You can hear
The sad sad song
You may feel just like that whale
Seeking love in the wrong ocean
Just keep the faith and you'll prevail
With the object of your devotion
Two whales almost met one time
A little south of Cape Horn
But an iceberg came between
And left them quite forlorn
Till they met in Monterey Bay
And agreed to seal their fate
They both took the plunge
Below the Golden Gate
The first verse of A Miracle America came to me on a hilltop near Santa Rosa, California, on October 18, 1979: "I saw a bird on an evergreen tree with the sun in its breast," I wrote in my journal. "Through silhouetted evergreens pillars of golden fog shone like the diadem of liberty."
I thought to use the light of the sun to illuminate landmarks in the course of a day in America. It begins: "The morning sun is golden Through the evergreens Like the torch of Liberty Charging through the foggy beams"
I envisioned the song dawning in the East and highlighted the Pilgrims who followed the sunsets' aura of promise to a religious haven. "The landing of the Pilgrims On our verdant shores Can you see that shining city Still glowing through the storm"
The chorus goes: "Have you seen The light of freedom It's there for you and me High above the harbor For all the world to see A Miracle America The light of Liberty" This refers to the sun, which is self evident like truth, and the Statue of Liberty, which also alludes to the Shining City on a Hill envisioned by John Winthrop in a 1630 serman.
The second verse begins: "The Gateway Arch is shining Afternoons on the plains" It was the promise of a better life that early settlers followed Westward, towards the setting sun.( I once sang A Miracle America to a circle of friends at the Gateway Arch with the sun directly overhead.) The image of the arch is echoed in the covered wagon.
The 'choice grain' I referred to is inscribed on a building in Boston. 'God sifted whole nations that he might send, choice grain over into the wilderness.' And so I wrote: "We're grateful to be sharing In this harvest of choice grain" The choice grain, refers to the people who have come to be American. "The prairie schooners ventured Through unknown terrain And in the hearts of many That pioneer spirit remains"
The song's bridge pays homage to the American Indian, the braves, and all others who were lost in the making of America: "And for those brave souls Who were lost to us We remember you with tears" I wrote the line for the 168 killed in the Oklahoma bombing, but now it also applies to those killed in the September 11 attacks. "And to those who have yet To live the dream May a brighter light appear"
Then I contrast the troubled times—the pit that America transcends—to the pinnacle of American achievement. The image of the Grand Canyon then blends into the image of the famous photograph of a footprint on the moon. "From the depths Of the Grand Canyon To the footprints in Moon dust" I wanted to shed light on the unseen help we may have had landing on the moon. "We can take those giant leaps Cause 'It's In God We Trust."
In the last verse I mention the Gold Rush, which was perhaps the last significant influx of people pouring in, "The California gold rush In Eighteen forty nine" The image that I envision when I sing the line, "And the last gleaming spike Driven in the railway line" is that of a single sunbeam, a ray of hope breaking through the clouds. I imagined the torch of Freedom to be something similar to the Olympic torch, and as it passes over the Pacific, it symbolizes, as the golden spike did, the union of East and West.
Finally, the song touches on the Golden Gate Bridge, which I often refer to as the Golden Gate, a symbolic door to freedom. "The Golden Gate at sunset Red and yellow black and white All races turn to gold As we face the amber light" I envisioned the setting sun on the faces of people of all races—especially on the face of the American Indian, and on face of the African American—and I saw how the amber sun transformed the flesh tones into one. With that final thought I knew the song was finished.
The morning sun is golden
In the evergreens
Like the Torch of Liberty
Charging through the foggy beams
The landing of the Pilgrims
On our verdant shores
Can you see that shining city
Still glowing through the storm
Have you seen
The light of freedom
It's there for you and me
High above the harbor
For all the world to see
A Miracle America
The light of liberty
The Gateway Arch is shining
Afternoons on the plains
We're grateful to be sharing
In this harvest of choice grain
The prairie schooners ventured
Through unknown terrain
And in the hearts of many
A pioneer spirit remains
Have you seen
The light of freedom ...
And for those brave souls
Who were lost to us
We remember you with tears
And for those who have yet
To live the dream
May a brighter light appear
From the depths of the Grand Canyon
To the footprints in moon dust
We can take those giant leaps
Cause it's In God We Trust
The California gold rush
In Eighteen Forty-nine
And the last gleaming spike
Driven in the railway line
The Golden Gate at sunset
Red and yellow black and white
All races turn to gold
As we face the amber light
Have you seen
The light of freedom...
I might have been the juggler
Who left things up in the air
I might have flown from my trapeze
And found nobody's there
I might have been the tight rope guy
Whose slip was Freudian
But I was just ambitious
Climbing one too many rungs
Cause I feel just like
The big top
When the hurricane
Hits town
And I wonder
Will the show go on
Before it's off the ground
I might have been
The sad eyed clown
Who couldn't get a laugh
The masochist magician
Who sawed himself in half
Or the all too human cannonball
Who jumped the gun
But I was just ambitious
Climbing one too many rungs
I might have been a fire eater
A hellish breath inside
I might have been a swollower
Of daggers not my pride
I might have been a tattooed man
With words on tip of tongue
But I was just ambitious
Climbing one too many rungs
I might have been an acrobat
A pretzel out of shape
I might have been Houdini
Who didn't quite escape
I might have left the circus
And had a lot more fun
But I was just ambitious
Climbing one too many rungs
The Equestrian Director
Stopped this song and said
You might have been the lion tamer
Who lost his head "It's better
To be a word tamer
And make a slip of the lip
Than to be a lion tamer
And forget to bring your whip"
When I was a budding poet
I had a summer job
Working in the circus with the lion tamer.
My duties entailed cleaning the cage floor
And putting Wintergreen Breath Mints
In the lions' mouths.
The reason we freshened their breath
Was because the lion tamer stick his head
In those mouths, and lions do have bad breath.
It so happened that one day
I neglected my duty to clean the cage floor.
I had been struck by the sudden urge
To write a sonnet.
I took an unscheduled break and inscribed
The sonnet on the back of a circus poster.
The lion tamer came in to the cage,
Right in the middle of my poetic inspiration,
Slipped on something
And soiled his bright red silk pants.
He got quite upset about that
And said, "Mr. Poet, come put your head in here,"
Referring a one particular lion who was yawning
Now I've done all kinds of things
To get inspirations for poetry,
Songs and so forth
So I put my head in that lion's mouth.
I didn't hesitate
Because the Lion Tamer
Had a whip and a chair in each hand
And I'm not inclined to argue with someone
Holding a revolver to my head..
I put my head in the lion's mouth
It was at that instant
I realized that I had neglected my duty
Of inserting Wintergreen Breath Mints.
And while my head was in that lion
I heard the phone ring in the distance
As the lion tamer was paged.
Then I heard the pathetic sound
Of a whip being dragged across the sawdust
As the fearless one left the cage.
It turned out to be quite a long call.
So I had time to think about that sonnet
I had just written.
I wondered,
With my head still in that lion's mouth,
Was it worth it to risk one's life,
Just for the sake of literature.
After all, it wasn't a very good sonnet.
Well that was the summer
I learned the importance of literary criticism.
What stuck in my mind most though
Was the esprit de l'escalier
From the Equestrian Director.
He was the one who pulled me
Out of the lions' jaws;
After reading the sonnet
That I had dropped on the cage floor.
He said:
"It is better to be a poet
And make a slip of the lip
Than to be a lion tamer
And forget to bring your wits"
Or is it wit,
No, it's: "forget to bring your revolver."