[RCL]

Would Plath's "Daddy" qualify? It's a twofer: Dad and Ted.

[Duncan Gillies MacLaurin]

Billy Connolly wanted to be a folk singer but found out people laughed at him so he became a comedian. Here he is singing "D.I.V.O.R.C.E.":

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SzZzGxReXmo

[Roger Slater]

This classic Dylan song doesn't use the word "divorce," but I think it's close enough. (It's really so good it's scary).

Don't Think Twice, It's All Right

It ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe
It don't matter, anyhow
An' it ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe
If you don't know by now
When your rooster crows at the break of dawn
Look out your window and I'll be gone
You're the reason I'm trav'lin' on
Don't think twice, it's all right

It ain't no use in turnin' on your light, babe
That light I never knowed
An' it ain't no use in turnin' on your light, babe
I'm on the dark side of the road
Still I wish there was somethin' you would do or say
To try and make me change my mind and stay
We never did too much talkin' anyway
So don't think twice, it's all right

It ain't no use in callin' out my name, gal
Like you never did before
It ain't no use in callin' out my name, gal
I can't hear you any more
I'm a-thinkin' and a-wond'rin' all the way down the road
I once loved a woman, a child I'm told
I give her my heart but she wanted my soul
But don't think twice, it's all right

I'm walkin' down that long, lonesome road, babe
Where I'm bound, I can't tell
But goodbye's too good a word, gal
So I'll just say fare thee well
I ain't sayin' you treated me unkind
You could have done better but I don't mind
You just kinda wasted my precious time
But don't think twice, it's all right

[RCL]

Does anyone know the title and singer of a song with the line,

"I was drinking doubles and she was thinking singles" (or the reverse)?

Googling and Blinging didn't find it for me. Hank Williams?

Thanks,
Ralph

[Gila Heller]

This thread reminds me of a song by Aselin Debison, a relatively obscure teenage singer/songwriter from Nova Scotia:

Phase

She's lying on her bed
Alone in the dark
Remembers what's said
Staring at the marks
She's in too deep
Crying herself to sleep
There's not much I can do
She's too far away

Yeah, yeah
She needs some space
Whoa, whoa
And some time to think
I hope it's a phase
She's so out of place
And it's all thanks to you

So where will it end?
All roads have their bends
I know you feel sleepless
Wishing for Cupid
No, it's not your fault
Stop blaming yourself
It was never your call
And I really wanna help

Yeah, yeah
She needs some space
Whoa, whoa
And some time to think
I hope it's a phase
She's so out of place
And it's all thanks to you

Remember the good
Forget all the bad
She lives with her mother
But misses her dad
No, it's not your fault
Stop blaming yourself
It was never your call
And I really wanna help

Yeah, yeah
She needs some space
Whoa, whoa
And some time to think
I hope it's a phase
She's so out of place
And it's all thanks to you

Life for her now
Is an obstacle course
No thanks to her parents
Divorce

[W.F. Lantry]

Originally Posted by RCL

"I was drinking doubles and she was thinking singles" (or the reverse)?

Googling and Blinging didn't find it for me. Hank Williams?

Geez, Ralph,

you just need to move to Nashville for a few years.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D9893od03Sc

The first bar I walked into in Nashville, they were singing "I was drunk the day that Mama got out of prison..."

Thanks,

Bill

[Jehanne Dubrow]

Hi, Chris.
What a great topic. Right away, several poets come to mind. Claudia Emerson's book Late Wife is a brilliant collection that focuses almost entirely on the end of a marriage and the experience of surviving divorce. Leslie Harrison's Displacement, which won last year's Bakeless Prize in poetry and has just been published, is another book-length meditation on the subject. And, John Koethe's long poem, "Falling Water," (from the book of the same title), uses achitecture--namely Frank Lloyd Wright's work--as a metaphor for the structure of a marriage, one that ends in divorce.

[Maryann Corbett]

Thanks to Jehanne for bumping up this thread. A couple of days ago, I read Barbara Helfgott Hyett's "This Morning" on Poetry Daily and thought it was a good candidate.

http://poems.com/poem.php?date=14532

Her whole book Rift looks apt.

[Mark Allinson]

And here's a Dylan song that does mention divorce:


Tangled up in blue.


Early one mornin' the sun was shinin',
I was layin' in bed
Wond'rin' if she'd changed at all
If her hair was still red.
Her folks they said our lives together
Sure was gonna be rough
They never did like Mama's homemade dress
Papa's bankbook wasn't big enough.
And I was standin' on the side of the road
Rain fallin' on my shoes
Heading out for the East Coast
Lord knows I paid some dues gettin' through,
Tangled up in blue.

She was married when we first met
Soon to be divorced
I helped her out of a jam, I guess,
But I used a little too much force.
We drove that car as far as we could
Abandoned it out West
Split up on a dark sad night
Both agreeing it was best.
She turned around to look at me
As I was walkin' away
I heard her say over my shoulder,
"We'll meet again someday on the avenue,"
Tangled up in blue.

I had a job in the great north woods
Working as a cook for a spell
But I never did like it all that much
And one day the ax just fell.
So I drifted down to New Orleans
Where I happened to be employed
Workin' for a while on a fishin' boat
Right outside of Delacroix.
But all the while I was alone
The past was close behind,
I seen a lot of women
But she never escaped my mind, and I just grew
Tangled up in blue.

She was workin' in a topless place
And I stopped in for a beer,
I just kept looking' at the side of her face
In the spotlight so clear.
And later on as the crowd thinned out
I's just about to do the same,
She was standing there in back of my chair
Said to me, "Don't I know your name?"
I muttered somethin' underneath my breath,
She studied the lines on my face.
I must admit I felt a little uneasy
When she bent down to tie the laces of my shoe,
Tangled up in blue.

She lit a burner on the stove and offered me a pipe
"I thought you'd never say hello," she said
"You look like the silent type."
Then she opened up a book of poems
And handed it to me
Written by an Italian poet
From the thirteenth century.
And every one of them words rang true
And glowed like burnin' coal
Pourin' off of every page
Like it was written in my soul from me to you,
Tangled up in blue,

I lived with them on Montague Street
In a basement down the stairs,
There was music in the cafes at night
And revolution in the air.
Then he started into dealing with slaves
And something inside of him died.
She had to sell everything she owned
And froze up inside.
And when finally the bottom fell out I became withdrawn,
The only thing I knew how to do
Was to keep on keepin' on
Like a bird that flew
Tangled up in blue.

So now I'm goin' back again,
I got to get to her somehow.
All the people we used to know
They're an illusion to me now.
Some are mathematicians
Some are carpenter's wives.
Don't know how it all got started,
I don't know what they're doin' with their lives.
But me, I'm still on the road
Headin' for another joint
We always did feel the same,
We just saw it from a different point of view,
Tangled up in blue.

– Bob Dylan

[Andrew Frisardi]

Damn, Dylan is good. Here’s another of his about breaking up or divorce or calling it quits:

It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue

You must leave now, take what you need, you think will last.
But whatever you wish to keep, you better grab it fast.
Yonder stands your orphan with his gun,
Crying like a fire in the sun.
Look out all the saints are comin' through
And it's all over now, Baby Blue.

The highway is for gamblers, better use your sense.
Take what you have gathered from coincidence.
The empty-handed painter from your street
Is drawing crazy patterns on your sheets.
This sky, too, is folding under you
And it's all over now, Baby Blue.

All your seasick sailors, they are rowing home.
Your empty-handed armies, they are going home.
The lover who just walked out your door
Has taken all his blankets from the floor.
The carpet, too, is moving under you
And it's all over now, Baby Blue.

Leave your stepping stones behind, there's something that calls for you.
Forget the dead you've left, they will not follow you.
The vagabond who's rapping at your door
Is standing in the clothes that you once wore.
Strike another match, go start anew
And it's all over now, Baby Blue.