Song Lyric Sunday – Don’t be such an Oxymoron!

The Song Lyric Sunday Challenge this week the challenge is to select two songs and discuss some type of relevant association between them, compare and contrast.  Click on the link below to see Jim Adam’s post and to take part in the challenge.

https://jimadamsauthordotcom.wordpress.com/2021/05/22/improving-comprehension/

Also, Fandango has chosen the word Oxymoron as his word of the day and so I thought of two songs that have titles that are both Oxymorons.

Firstly, by Simon and Garfunkel, The Sound of Silence.

Silence is, of course, the absence of sound and therefore how can it have any sound at all? However, we have all felt the intense pressure that can come about when there is a heavy silence in the room.

This song was originally written by Paul Simon in 1964 and recorded in October on their debut album which was a commercial failure, then two years later the song was included in their second album, remixed and it was a hit in 1966.

The Lyrics are:

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 silenceIn 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 silenceAnd 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 silenceAnd 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.

In contrast, I wanted to fly the flag for another band from the 60’s, The Mamas and the Papas. They recorded a version of the Rodgers and Hart song, Glad to be Unhappy, another Oxymoron and another hit in the 60’s this time 1967.

It takes a lot of gumption to record a song from the classic era of musicals written by one of the top writing duos of the 1930’s, but then The Mamas and The Papas never lacked gumption and never failed in making beautiful music together.

The Lyrics:

Look at yourself, if you had a sense of humor
You would laugh to beat the band
Look at yourself, do you still believe the rumor
That romance is simply grand?
Since you took it right on the chin
You have lost that bright toothpaste grin
My mental state is all a-jumble
I sit around and sadly mumble
Fools rush in, so here I am
Very glad to be unhappy
I can’t win, but here I am
More than glad to be unhappy
Unrequited love’s a bore
And I’ve got it pretty bad
But for someone you adore
It’s a pleasure to be sad
Like a straying baby lamb
With no mammy and no pappy
I’m so unhappy
But oh, so glad

I hope you enjoyed these contrasting songs that are both hits of the 60’s and both oxymorons, well you’d be a bit of an oxymoron not to! 🙂

I have also included the following prompt words:

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2021/05/23/rdp-sunday-gumption/

https://fivedotoh.com/2021/05/23/fowc-with-fandango-oxymoron/

50 Word Thursday #29 – Blurred Instincts

Debbie Whittam sets this challenge every Thursday, to write a poem or story in 50 words, or multiples of 50 up to a maximum of 250 words, inspired by a picture and include some particular lines.

https://debbiewhittam.wordpress.com/2018/11/29/50-word-thursday-29/

This is the story I wrote last week:

https://talesfromthemindofkristian.wordpress.com/2018/11/22/50-word-thursday-28-realisation-in-the-desert/

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Familiarity drugs thought, and begins to blur instinct. –
Arthur Upfield’s Bony and the Mouse

Blurred Instincts

What a contrast he was to her ex-boyfriend. He smiled at her as they drank cocktails on the beach. He actually seemed interested in what she had to say, though he gave very little information about himself.

He was youngish and reasonably handsome. When he initially started chatting to her at the Bar she wasn’t interested, something about his smile and those cold eyes she didn’t like. Finally, she’d agreed to have one drink with him. She’d been flattered, there were much prettier girls at the bar. His easy-going manner and the way he listened attentively to what she said had slowly chipped away at her initial reluctance, familiarity drugs thought and begins to blur instinct.

After that, they took their drinks down to the sea and sat on the beach. She sipped her drink and enjoyed the feeling of numbness that rose up from her toes. The sound of the waves lapping against the soft sand was soothing. The smell of the salty sea mingled with the scent of his aftershave.

She woke up suddenly. The sun streamed through the window. A blurred figure stood over her as her eyes adjusted to the light.

It was a female figure dressed in a police uniform.

“Ah, you’re awake. We were worried he’d given you an overdose. You’re lucky our patrol found you when we did before he could carry out his plan. He ran off though and we didn’t manage to catch him. Could you provide us with a description?”

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 29/November/2018

I have included the following word prompts:

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/11/29/your-daily-word-prompt-information-november-29-2018/

Multiple Word Prompt Story – Belatedly Sorry.

This is a multiple word prompt story inspired by the following prompts:

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/10/02/atone/

FOWC with Fandango — Hardware

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/10/02/your-daily-word-prompt-belated-october-2-2018/

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/10/02/rdp-tuesday-contrast/

 

Belatedly Sorry

‘What a contrast today is to yesterday’, thought Sam.

Yesterday, the sun was shining, the birds were singing and all was right with the world.

They’d made plans to redecorate the bathroom. They’d even gone to the Hardware store to choose the paint. It all seems rather flat now.

Sam wandered from room to room without really seeing anything, without any real purpose. Opening the door, walking in, closing the door, then repeating the process, just for something to do rather than think.

She felt like she had to atone somehow. She knew it wasn’t her fault, but she still felt the burden of guilt.

It was such a petty argument, over paintbrushes or something stupid like that.

Then he’d clutched at his heart, his hand spasmed and she realised he was having another heart attack. The doctors had said that once you have one, you’re more likely to have another and he had to be careful.

She’d phoned the ambulance and she waited. Belated has to be one of the most hateful words there is. Too Late. She remembered too late that he shouldn’t be overexcited, why did she have to argue?

Too late, the ambulance arrived. She knew it was all over.

She was wandering up and down the stairs when the telephone started ringing.

She ran down those stairs almost defying the laws of physics.

Picking up the receiver she spoke “Hello, Hello? Yes, this is Mrs Richards. Doctor Griffiths?”

The calm deep tones of Doctor Griffiths could be heard on the other end of the line.

“Yes, Mrs Richards, It was touch and go for a while, but we have been able to resuscitate your husband. We had to put a stent into his main artery, but he has come through OK. Get a good nights sleep and come and visit him in the morning.”

“Yes, Doctor, Thank you.” As soon as she put the phone down she burst into tears.

The next morning she walked into the hospital room and saw him sitting in bed with lots of tubes and wires sticking out of him. He looked dreadful, but he was alive. He even gave her a little smile.

She ran to him and buried her face in his chest and cried while he gently brushed her hair with his hands. She felt stupid, he was the one who had just narrowly survived a heart attack, but he was comforting her.

She heard his voice, it was quieter and softer than usual.

“Love, I’m going to be OK in a day or two. Don’t worry. There is one thing though dear.”

“Yes, darling, what is it?” She answered.

“I think we’d better get someone in to do the bathroom.”

 

The End.

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 02/October/2018