Yesterday, October 14, we had a great time, as we always do, at Serendipity Bistro, where we played the David's Pack Bluebird Concert. The concert was inspired by one of the greatest poems ever written the Bluebird by Charles Bukowski.
The concert was well received by the audience and we played almost every song on my debut album Goodbye Till We Meet Again and of course one of my favorites Into my arms by Nick Cave.
But the thing I am eager to tell you is that You should Never underestimate the power of poetry. I have to confess that it was a new experience for me, although I've recited poems at almost every concert I'd never recited without a strong musical background. This time though, I felt it was proper to recite the Bluebird withalmost no background at all, there was only silence between the verses of the poem combined with two or three notes that I picked on my guitar.
The result was amazing. From the first words "There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out", everybody stood still, I could't even hear the audience breathing, the glasses of water, juice or wine froze on the tables. Everything stood still, even time. All I could hear was an overwhelming silence and the words of Charles Bukowski coming out of my mouth and disappearing through the tables. All I can say is that what happened after doesn't really matter. All I have left is just a feeling, a feeling that it was a good day.
By Charles Bukowski
there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too tough for him, I say, stay in there, I'm not going to let anybody see you. there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I pour whiskey on him and inhale cigarette smoke and the whores and the bartenders and the grocery clerks never know that he's in there.
there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too tough for him, I say, stay down, do you want to mess me up? you want to screw up the works? you want to blow my book sales in Europe? there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too clever, I only let him out at night sometimes when everybody's asleep. I say, I know that you're there, so don't be sad. then I put him back, but he's singing a little in there, I haven't quite let him die and we sleep together like that with our secret pact and it's nice enough to make a man weep, but I don't weep, do you?