Musicians' lyrics qualify them as poets

By Tina Ray
Opinion Editor

Some people listen to music for the beat. And I must admit that there are some great beat masters out there: Kanye West and Guru to specifically name two.

I am a poet. I listen to music for the words, for the genius of lyrics. I’m not one who can listen only for the words and not analyze the person who wrote them. To do so moves literary criticism to the realm of music.

For a long time, I’ve believed that each author leaves some of him or herself in the music. The music is a gift. A peace offering for a troubled world. An invitation to look at the world from someone else’s perspective. Lyrics are, at other times, just an invitation to party.

Frequently, I listen to a wide lists of artists. Who doesn’t respect the honest of Topic when he said, “we call came from our momma, got our name from our momma.” I loved him for the brilliance of that statement alone. He was a poet.

Or what about Norah Joneses, “The sun just slipped its note below my door and I can’t hide beneath my sheets.” To me, that means face the world and bring you’re A-game.

K. T. Oslin and Loretta Lynn are two of the greatest artists to grace the music scene. Whenever I hear the simplicity of “Coal Miner’s Daughter” or “You’re not Woman enough to take My Man,” I blast the radio.

So, what does that say about me? I’m just as eager to listen to Bob and Sheri in the morning as I am to listen to Tom Joyner. I get high from music. Juiced. Pumped up. Hyped.

But, as a Christian, I am not bound only to listen to Donnie McClurkin’s “We Fall Down.” He sings, “A saint is just a sinner who fell down and got back up.” I’m not bound only to hear The Canton Spirituals sing “Hallelujah Square.”

Music is a gift. Musicians are poets. I can’t sing a lick, but when I hear JayZ, Coldplay, Kenney Chesney, Sheryl Crow, Eve, Mary J, Patti, Celine, John Mayer, Alicia, Matchbox Twenty, Johnny Taylor, Alicia and countless other poets, I put the windows down in my car, pump up the base to the point where I know I’m instantly impairing my hearing, and holla back. It’s in my blood.

Maybe I’m not acting my age. Maybe I’m not acting like a mother of two. Maybe I’m not acting like a Christian or educated. Sometimes, I question why I must play my music so loud, but I can’t hear it otherwise. I can’t feel the words touch my soul otherwise.

I’m certain no one genre can tie me down. No one song can define me. No one poet can speak for me. I listen to music for the words and I love what I hear.