Monday's Poetry: "Vincent"

by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator

I have probably told this story before, but it can stand repeating.  Years ago while listening to a talk on the romantic poets that was being given by a very knowledgeable and enthusiastic instructor, the lady suddenly went off on a tangent as to what she perceived as a lack of practicing poets in contemporary society.  In an expression of exasperation, she reached backward and struck the chalkboard with her fist as she declared, "Where are today's poets?"

Well, aside from the fact that there are some very good poets currently practicing there craft, there are also many poets who choose to package their verse as songs.   The professor, who was also a friend of mine, had obviously not spent enough time listening to the lyrics of Lennon and McCartney, Simon and Garfunkel, Elton John, Carole King, or even Dolly Parton.

A couple of weeks ago as I was driving home from Kansas City - just after the Cuba trip - Don McLean's beautiful ode to painter Vincent van Gogh, came on the radio, and I quickly became lost in the portrait that McLean had painted with his words and his wonderful voice.  The song is a finely honed description of the artist, his work, and his demons.

"Vincent," also commonly called "Starry Night," was on McLean's "American Pie" album, and it is one of his two best known works.  The other, of course, is the iconic "American Pie."

Here is Don McLean's poetic triumph - here is "Vincent."


Vincent
by Don McLean

Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul

Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land

Now, I understand, what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now

Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue

Colors changing hue

Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand

Now, I understand, what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now

For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left inside
On that starry, starry night

You took your life as lovers often do
But I could have told you, Vincent
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you

Starry, starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frame less heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget

Like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
The silver thorn of bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow

Now, I think I know what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they're not listening still
Perhaps they never will