at least sixteen musicians have died on planes
Glenn Miller, Buddy Holly, Aaliyah too
The Big Bopper went down due to torrential rains
The loss of such marvelous talent makes me feel blue
Under the aegis of darkness,
they trespassed narrow-edged ways —
wayward musicians;
spectre-framed and so pronto the
afflatus of restless painters and
hungry poets.
Mute and stout,
they seemed agnostics,
reclining on image-powers; thoughts
and dumb instruments facing earth;
such clout among them,
and countenance —dim —
turning them into a cluster of
strumpet-begotten specimens.
Moments of silence.
In their string-fashioned phalanx,
Untaperable fraternity.
"As the greatest of all poets and musicians,
tho' you may call me 'liar',
Hermes may have invented it
but I perfected the lyre
and with my music and singing
if only I could see
the forest for the trees
I would coax the woods to dance for me
but, on the other hand
from where I stand,
it appears to be,
looking at it from all angles,
nothing but nettles, brambles
and both
briars and tangles,"
quoth he, Orpheus in the undergrowth.
A tuneful gorilla that they called a brute
played both the recorder and the lute,
while his elephant friend, refined,
was of a different mind,
and gave up the trumpet for flute.
Tho' right-handed
instruments the two do play
yet one is downside up
left-handed musicians both are they
or seem to sup
from a similar southpaw cup
and if you follow the trail of crumbs
they lead to Jimi
the Starr of guitar
and stick to Ringo
the Hendrix of drums
he leans against a street sign pole
it is freezing cold
he knows not to put his tongue on it
a casual stance
for he is a musician
are they not all casual?
life is simple
tv is in grayscale
the hippies have not arrived to color up the scene
people walk toward him
most do not see him
those who do avoid his eyes
not wanting to go the distance
or making the effort
to socialize with a stranger
this scene is reenacted in many cities
people not wanting to be people
pretending they are not
missing musicians…..
When he speaks
transparently
he feels co-passionate
as long as s/he appears
to vulnerably listen
Without Me v We risks
of retributive judgment,
body shaming
and mind blaming,
when he aims
to restore healthy cultures
and wealthy climates of peace
through win/win reassessment
Which may be why
music feels safer to sing
resonantly
when compassionate audiences dance
engaging pleasure's peak resilience
Co-empathic brilliance
of CommonSensed communion rituals
Wealth-enlightened minds
empowering health-embodied love stories
NaturalRoot/SpiritualCrown
wisdom recirculations
as old as
universal salvation
Anthro-passion cultures
unfolding/refolding
unitarian co-redemptive
Earth-pleasured body climates,
wealthy mindful singing
performance Now
within healthy bodies dancing
co-engagement Here
Receiving in
light's notations
while thrusting out
power's most sacred
invocations.
“I'm ready to go anywhere
I'm ready for to fade
Into my own parade
Cast your dancing spell my way
I promise to go under it”.....Quote by Bob Dylan
I AM A STRANGER HERE without you
I CAN'T EXPLAIN why
I walk through this RING OF FIRE
WHERE THE NIGHTIME IS THE RIGHT TIME-
when out of the darkness I SHALL BE RELEASED
from the uncertainty of my struggle
There are 500,000 souls here
with one voice of peace and love, and I…
am finding my voice in Neverland-
intensely running in the circles of my irreverence
to create the chords within the tunes…
my music - my rhythm – my soul
my words to change the world
Looking to my orator of this brotherhood
MR. TAMBOURINE MAN,
the designated ghost of my hope
hammering the jingling beat
that shackled my feet to follow
this haunting melody inside me
where I am the master of my freedom
But…
You are my song of songs,
YOU ARE AS GOOD AS YOU'VE BEEN TO THIS WORLD,
the hand I hold to walk in this light
lingering sweetly in the HIGH TIME
of my experimental chaos
that I so fiercely hold onto
within the bosom of my art
that rages ALL ALONG THE WATCHTOWER
of my soul
MY DARLING BE HOME SOON
Meritorious lessons, verily memorable
meant by organ grinder or street musician I virtually met
move me to mention my meditations…
Midst his marvelous music
my momentous milestones are filled with hymns*
magnifying the majesty of the Supreme Almighty…
Musing about his magic
my mind is mesmerized with charm of melodious
minutes meandering toward merriment-mirth…
Marked by his impact along what his messages impart
my mentality seems to murmur against
mistakes human nature succumbs to as
my spirit melts toward meekness-moist
mending for magnanimity while aiming for God’s
mercy of faith's flame and truth's frame-merging.
Mentored on functional management
my ministry pursuits never minimize
mighty miracles of the Lord against
mysteries lurking and mockingly
mounting over the last organ grinder’s
monkey business matters.
*Ephesians 5:19 “Speaking to yourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord.”
November 4, 2023
2nd place, "The Last Organ Grinder" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Silent One; judged on 11/22/2023
She sits in the corner
Hair over her face
Strumming her guitar
At such an easy pace
He comes out and joins her
She begins to hum
He sits on the ground
And beats on his drum
Then she starts to sing
And I gently close my eyes
Voices tugging at me
When they harmonize
In time with the music
My heart starts to beat
In tune with the words
my eyes start to weep
I follow along
As I'm taken for a ride
Through hopeful ideas
And foolish pride
I wished it hadn't stopped
When they got to the end
I felt so touched
Like a hug from a friend
Whoever wrote the words
Had seen into my heart
Whoever wrote this tune
Is pulling me apart
I'm thankful for the musos
Who played it so caring
And I'm so grateful to them
For their honest sharing
The accordion is my instrument of choice.
This was stated by striped blue cat Joyce.
My brother Adley is on the cymbals, nice and loud.
Cousin Zaney plays the violin, he has a classical crowd.
I asked, What kind of music do you like the best?
Bluegrass, rock and roll, classical and all the rest.
We are bongo playing cats too, said my friend Joyce.
Come on down to the Cat Shack Alley and we’ll give you your choice.
So I went to the Cat Shack Alley where they were grooving.
My hips and my feet never could stop moving.
I was dancing up a storm, landing on a table top.
The diners there finally had to beg me to stop.
My valued time for musicians:
On-stage a class of magicians,
Though their tunes not for theologian’s
Who brand musicians logicians…
It’s a reaching-out to people
For stirring their dreams or ripple,
Musicians for the route to love,
Their tunes proofs of its being a dove
“While living, bleeding and kicking
A lip you conquered be licking,
Even as time keeps a-ticking.
And unsolved mad problems sticking."
Man’s sought scarce time for musicians.
They’d envision bright conditions,
In songs hallowing beauticians;
Or them rhythmic renditions:
Lots of creative time finding,
For actions to a pair binding;
Now, no axe for spouses’ grinding
Not with great tunes for a minding
The
percent,
one point three.
Thirteen of each
one thousand famous
musicians will likely
die at age twenty seven.
The, so called, Twenty Seven Club.
A tragic portent for young artists.
The truth is Hendrix, Joplin, Morrison
and Cobain died at twenty seven,
yes,a sad event, but Rick James,
Fogelberg, Roger Miller
and Billy Powell didn't.
They are members of
a unique group,
The Fifty
Six
Club.
In truth,
more artists
leave us at age
fifty six than do
at age twenty seven.
twenty two out of every
thousand, or two point two percent.
The twenty seven club is about
something different, not age but ageism.
09/19/2022
Many musicians make music,
Musical melodies mimic magnificent messages.
Mostly material mentioning meaningful moments,
Masterpieces march merrily.
Millionaire music makers.
The writer's stories fill many a page
Sharing their talent of which they are proud
That has been so since before the Stone Age
Some quiet and modest, and some rather loud
Artists, musicians and dancers take stage.
Musicians play instruments brilliantly
Displaying the talent possessed by them all
Listeners wowed by their versatility
Their talent answering to poetry's call
A meeting of arts in complete symmetry.
Artists beguile us with paintings so fine
Their canvas displaying what's stored in the heart
With pictures like stars as they start to align
Painting and poetry a duet of art
Alone or together, they’re certain to shine.
Dancers make magic in their dancing shoes
Sensing the temperature starting to rise
Their movement and grace both in time with their cues
Just watch the perfection of these girls and guys
As all of their watchers they surely enthuse.
“Ars Longa, Vita Brevis”
13th November
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