1. |
Antarctica
07:28
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A monologue from Angels in America
words by Tony Kushner
Antarctica
I feel better, I do, I...feel better. There are ice crystals in my lungs, wonderful and sharp. And the snow smells like cold, crushed peaches. And there’s something... some current of blood in the wind, how strange, it has that iron taste. Where am I? (looking around, then realizing) Antarctica. This is Antarctica! Oh boy oh boy, LOOK at this, I... Wow, I must’ve really snapped the tether, huh?
I want to stay here forever. Set up camp. Build things. Build a city, an enormous city made up of frontier forts, dark wood and green roofs and high gates made of pointed logs and bonfires burning on every street corner. I should build by a river. Where are the forests?
I’ll plant them and grow them. I’ll live off caribou fat, I’ll melt it over the bonfires and drink it from long, curved goat-horn cups. It’ll be great. I want to make a new world here. So that I never have to go home again. I can have anything I want here–maybe even companionship, someone who has...desire for me. There isn’t anyone...maybe an Eskimo. Who could ice-fish for food. And help me build a nest for when the baby comes. Here, I can be pregnant. And I can have any kind of baby I want.
I’m going to like this place. It’s my own National Geographic Special! Oh! Oh! (She holds her stomach) I think... I think I felt her kicking. Maybe I’ll give birth to a baby covered with thick white fur, and that way she won’t get cold. My breasts will be full of hot cocoa so she doesn’t get chilly. And if it gets really cold, she’ll have a pouch I can crawl into. Like a marsupial. We’ll mend together. That’s what we’ll do; we’ll mend.
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2. |
Too Few The Mornings Be
01:22
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Too Few the Mornings Be
Too few the mornings be,
Too scant the nights.
No lodging can be had
For the delights
That come to earth to stay,
But no apartment find
And ride away.
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3. |
If All The Griefs
01:41
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If All the Griefs I Am to Have
If all the griefs I am to have
Would only come today,
I am so happy I believe
They’d laugh and run away.
If all the joys I am to have
Would only come today,
They could not be so big as this
As happens to me now.
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4. |
The Bustle in a House
01:27
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The Bustle in a House
The Bustle in a House
The Morning after Death
Is solemnest of industries
Enacted upon earth –
The Sweeping up the Heart
And putting Love away
We shall not want to use again
Until Eternity.
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5. |
Letter to the World
02:25
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Letter to the World
This is my letter to the World
That never wrote to Me –
The simple News that Nature told –
With tender Majesty
Her Message is committed
To Hands I cannot see –
For love of Her – Sweet – countrymen –
Judge tenderly – of Me
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6. |
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You Cannot Put a Fire Out
You cannot put a Fire out –
A Thing that can ignite
Can go, itself , without a Fan –
Upon the slowest Night –
You cannot fold a Flood –
And put it in a Drawer –
Because the Winds would find it out –
And tell your Cedar Floor –
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7. |
Bee! I'm Expecting You
01:39
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Bee! I’m Expecting You
Bee! I’m expecting you!
Was saying Yesterday
To Somebody you knew
That you were due –
The Frogs got Home last Week –
Are settled, and at work –
Birds, mostly back –
The Clover warm and thick –
You’ll get my Letter by
The seventeenth; Reply
Or better, be with me –
Yours, Fly.
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8. |
Poor Little Heart
03:56
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Poor Little Heart
Poor little heart!
Did they forget thee?
Then dinna care! Then dinna care!
Proud little heart!
Did they forsake thee?
Be debonnaire! Be debonnaire!
Frail little heart!
I would not break thee –
Could’st credit me? Could’st credit me?
Gay little Heart –
Like Morning Glory!
Thou’ll wilted be! Thou’ll wilted be!
Poor little heart!
Did they forget thee?
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9. |
I'm Nobody
02:26
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I’m Nobody
I’m nobody! Who are you?
Are you – Nobody – Too?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Don’t tell! they’d advertise – you know!
How dreary –to be – Somebody!
How public – like a Frog –
To tell one’s name – the livelong June –
To an admiring Bog!
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10. |
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How Happy is the Little Stone
How happy is the little Stone
That rambles in the Road alone,
And doesn’t care about Careers
And Exigencies never fears –
Whose Coat of elemental Brown
A passing Universe put on,
And independent as the Sun
Associates and glows alone,
Fulfilling absolute Decree
In casual simplicity –
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11. |
Estranged From Beauty
02:25
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Estranged from Beauty
Estranged from Beauty – none can be –
For Beauty is Infinity –
And power to be finite ceased
Before Identity was leased.
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12. |
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Will There Really Be a Morning
Will there really be a “Morning”?
Is there such a thing as “Day”?
Could I see it from the mountains
If I were as tall as they?
Has it feet like Water lilies
Has it feathers like a Bird?
Does it come from famous places
Of which I have never heard?
Oh some scholar! Oh some sailor!
Oh some Wise Man from the skies!
Please to tell this little Pilgrim
Where the place called “Morning” lies!
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13. |
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14. |
Child
03:04
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Child
poem by Sylvia Plath
Your clear eye is the one absolutely beautiful thing.
I want to fill it with color and ducks,
The zoo of the new
Whose names you meditate –
April snowdrop, Indian pipe,
Little
Stalk without wrinkle,
Pool in which images
Should be grand and classical
Not this troublous
Wringing of hands, this dark
Ceiling without a star.
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Jennifer Zetlan & Ricky Ian Gordon New York, New York
Ricky Ian Gordon (b. 1956 in Oceanside, NY) .After moving to New York City, he quickly emerged as a leading writer of vocal
music that spans art song, opera, and musical theater.
Soprano Jennifer Zetlan is internationally recognized for her artistry and captivating stage
presence. She has been seen and heard on opera and concert stages worldwide, as well as recital venues.
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Contact Jennifer Zetlan & Ricky Ian Gordon
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