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Tuesday, May 27, 2003 This one was inspired by the Willamette Valley Folk Music Festival, held here at the University of Oregon every year. We get lots of counterculture people out dancing around. But we also get parents taking their kids, so that's cool. Lots of good folk and world music is performed at the festival, local bands and regional alike, and a few larger groups as well. I really love going out and checking out the music, and memories of this year's festival inspired the following poem.Folk Music Festival Dread Lock Hackey Sack Plate of Noodles Gentle Breeze Pouring Rain Grass Stain Tie Dye Student Union Love and Peace Hair Grease Wooden Drum Feeling Numb Dance to the music, young child Feel the rhythm move inside you Driven by the man with the drum On the stage above you Listen to the sounds Can you hear it? More importantly, Can you feel it? Pay attention Listen close It's not just music, It's your life. Play on, guitar Respond to the fingers strumming you The fingers pressing on your fretboard He doesn't hurt you, he loves you Give him all you've got Make these people listen to the gentle sounds you make Don't ever stop the music. Pound on, drum Yes, it's violent, but then again so is life Your rhythms cut through like a knife Boom, pop! Boom boom, pop! You're their master Make their feet move They don't care anymore They just want to feel the rhythm. Wail on, violin Cry out your song Your orgasmic song Caressed by the bow Gently held by the hand Cry out in joy Cry out in peace Cry because your song will touch a heart Isn't that love? Dance on, hippie man Forget you're here on earth Let the music take you wherever You don't even care who sees you It's you, and the music, and what else is there? You become one with the music Isn't that love? Thank you, guitar Thank you, child Thank you, drum Thank you, hippie Thank you, violin Thank you, music. Thank you, for all the good times. posted by:Russ at 1:29 AM | Post Page | 0 comments 0 Comments: |
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