Entering a singing contest would fill me full of woe
I’m not saying singers would mock me as I would go
But I am not a crooner, as every relative doth know
I cannot carry a tune, yet I adore music so….
The Voice and American Idol are my favorite shows
I love the excited contestants and music that flows
Entering a singing contest is not for me in any way
But I love classical music and folk music every single day.
BEAT MELODIES
boom boom boom a beating of the drum
include a variety of drums, boom boom boom
rattles as the snake dance
Liken baby rattles play,
ring them bells, idiophones.
these be beat melodies Notable
them de play Djembe, Dundun, Gangan, and them de play Sakara, Bata, Udu Shekere, Agogo, and Gbedu These instruments are often used
boom boom boom a beating of the drum
these be beat melodies
include a variety of drums, boom boom boomin traditional ceremonies, folk music, and more contemporary these be beat melodies
boom boom boom a beating for di drum
dis be beat melodies
8/5/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2025©
the seventies is my go-to decade
for it is when I was my cutest
and my three daughters were born
I looked terrific in my bell bottom jeans
the edge of them had rickrack and lace
I embroidered a happy face and flowers on her pockets
my go-to vest was loaded with fringe
I wore my hair long and messy; I felt wild and free
the music of the seventies was anti-war
Folk music of the Mamas and Papas
The Carol Burnett Show was marvelous
As was Barney Fife on Andy Griffith
Women did not have to wear make up
We could burn our bras, and we did
Helen Reddy wrote and sang “I am Woman”
It was a powerful time for us, especially me.
Thinking About the Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan
1963-A new voice appeared in the folk music scene,
his songwriting skills came into play with this
album. Eleven of the thirteen songs were his
original writings. Songs like “Blowin’ in the Wind”
“A Hard Rains a Gonna Fall” and “Masters of War”
sparked a new revival and direction in folk music and
began the prolific career of one of musical history’s greatest
songwriters. Freewheelin’ was my introduction that led to a
life long fascination with the man and his music.
I'm nobody that you'd know -
maybe you can call me Joe.
Walking down MacDougal Street,
I had no one to meet.
A New York night without a friend,
I dropped into The Bitter End
to escape the cold and think,
and to have myself a drink.
My troubled mind caught G-sharp.
A kid there played a fine mouth harp.
From an unknown nasal voice,
words grabbed me - I had no choice.
Poetry poured down in my hole
and reached into my soul.
How lucky can a poor boy be -
Bob Dylan will make history.
~ an anonymous patron of a folk music club in Greenwich Village, 1961
When I sit alone with my memories
My mind drifts back to the early 60s
When folk music was all the rage
The New Christy Minstrels, Peter Paul and Mary
The Brothers Four, The Limelighters, The Kingston Trio
The Canadiana Folksingers... who?????
A six member group called The Canadiana Folksingers
Included myself and my first wife Linda
Along with two guitar players, a one-string bass
And I played the five-string banjo
Did we have a blast? Oh yah!
Made an album called “This Land Is Your Land”
And a 45 rpm single called, “Hey Jolly!”
Along with appearances on both
Of the only two Canadian TV Networks at the time
My memories of those days fill me with pride and tears
We can't go back but we can dream
About when we were young
And the world was ours to explore!
Her dreadlocks were familiar as was her patchouli smell
I recognized her folk music, understood it rather well
She brought back the seventies in the sweetest way
I was thrilled to stumble upon this guitarist today
She gave me a glance, and I saw gold in her eyes.
Something ethereal about her did not give me any surprise.
I thought of the youth who tried to change the world back then.
Her music was soulful and soft, a truly wonderful win.
I invited her to supper and learned her life story of course.
She had grown up in the country with six cows and a horse.
Her story was my own, but sadder by quite a little bit.
I hugged her good-bye, knowing she would not have a fit.
When I sit alone with my memories
My mind drifts back to the early 60s
When folk music was all the rage
The New Christy Minstrels, Peter Paul and Mary
The Brothers Four, The Limelighters, The Kingston Trio
The Canadiana Folksingers... who?????
A six member group called The Canadiana Folksingers
Included myself and my first wife Linda
Along with two guitar players, a one-string-bass
And I played the five-string banjo
Did we have a blast? Oh yah!
Made an album called “This Land Is Your Land”
And a 45 rpm single called, “Hi Jolly!”
Along with appearances on both
Of the only two Canadian TV Networks at the time
Memories of those days fill me with pride
Can't go back but we can dream
About when we were young
And the world was ours to explore!
work in progress
Footle of Country Bands
S**t Kickers/slide guitar
cowboys
Stetson
John Denver/folk music
“Thank God”
fiddler
Footle Of Rock Bands
Guitar strings/stockings
steely
nylons
Big hair/bands
hairspray
glamour
Roadies/Hotel
seconds
trashed rooms
Thrash/Punk Rock
Bangers
Façade
Woodstock wild is what the musicians knew
Plain dairy farm in New York, reservation due.
I was too young, alas, or I would have been there.
Loving the music, the ambiance, wild as old dog hair.
Midriffs showing, the crowd was mostly young and thin.
Jumpsuits looked fabulous, no matter who was poured in.
People ate healthy, they were taunt and tight.
Music wafted all over the hills on this Saturday night.
Platform shoes, cowboy boots, sandals, anything went.
Some hitched rides in caravans, that were heaven-sent.
Lots of clean fun while folk music enticed the crowd.
Rolling, rocking, roaring fun, and probably sixteen times too loud.
At the annual scarecrow contest I saw a guitar loving boho scarecrow
She was whimsical, fun, and she reminded me of happier times
She was wearing a seventies shirt. I almost expected folk music.
Who made this one? I asked a few people. An older man gave me a wink.
I figured it was him, but he did not want to give away his age.
I remember those days too, I told him. He said “TOO!” acting offended.
We both laughed.
Joan Chandos Baez is an American singer
Eighteen years old, first of the later date
protest folk singers
Famous before Bob Dylan!
Songwriter, musician, and activist.
Folk music of protest and social justice,
in the fields of nonviolence, civil rights,
workers' rights, and the environment
Made over 30 albums
Fluent in Spanish and English,
recorded songs in at least
six other languages
March on Washington for Civil Rights
Supported Cesar Chavez and his
United Farm workers Union
Protested Vietnam War, and supports
homeless veterans
Fundraiser for the Ukraine refugees
Eighty years of age, Joan is still
performing for cherished causes
History will teach us
"The Purpose Of Life" through
the genius women such as Joan Baez.
The Vietnam War came immediately into my mind
And how sad it was, because so many young men died
They were innocent, many between eighteen and twenty
The rest of us lost our innocence too as they were returned
in flag-draped coffins.
I was a teenager when I became aware of the Vietnam War
My boyfriend had to sign up for the draft; there was no choice
Unless you had a congressman or a senator in your family.
It was a sad time. Folk music was slow and dreamy.
We were talking about flower power, wearing bell bottoms.
The hippies developed as a protest against the establishment.
We were singing folk songs that reflected our sadness.
Where have all the flowers gone to me represented our innocence.
We were never innocent again after the Viet Nam War.
SEPTEMBER 25, 2021
It was a bright sun, blue sky day,
refreshingly cool, destined to be short
in a post autumnal equinox way, the morning
farmer’s market shimmering with activity,
with varieties of produce and the multiple
languages of the neighbors we love
Still in full leaf, the neighborhood was green
with red and yellow edges, bright leaves and
sunlight partners in a dance, diamonds in the
breeze, the burning bush hedge beyond the
sun-filled sun porch windows a fiery fall red,
the book on my lap no match for the performance
of a fall afternoon with the intermittent sounds
of child play on our block, the plaintive soprano of
Welsh folk music and my wife in the kitchen
generating aromas, the first in a season of stews
and red wines, cornbread and puddings, the spirits
and spells of thanksgiving and grace, preparation
for the solstice and the cold days beyond!
I feel twelve most days, on rare occasions, I feel nineteen.
When folk music from the sixties comes on, I am seventeen.
I do not remember being any ages in between these ages and my real age.
I do not recognize or revere my actual age.
So when I look into the mirror and see faded eyes,
An old woman’s neck, splotches on my skin and a sty on my eye
I forget to smile, which is great, because then I do not see missing teeth.
And I can still be twelve, seventeen or nineteen.
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