kokopelle: Frank n Furter (Frank-n-Furter)
"Seeking Peace" is about the place of music in my life. There are avenues that I can use to escape for a time, but they are both temporary and infrequent. The tool I keep near at hand, with results assured by experience, is the calming / exciting balm of music.

Seeking Peace

The sex was not enough
the guilt surpassed pleasure's tasks
how could it last when the result
is a death that may bring life?

food filled my questing gullet
seeking peace at morsel's edge
pleasure sought in appetite
in the end I felt only full

misery became my company
once the clothes were retrieved
and the dishes put aside
an emptiness arrived again

I found myself longing for
another way to stir the heart
lift my soul above the grind
assuring calm in life's storm

into this space the music came
on the air with no strings
prompting me to step away
from the burdens I did not want

transcendence would be the word
though this falls short to describe
the magic brought into my life
by the tunes' resonance

I struggle to pay homage
show the praise that I feel
inadequate to the task
as a human coil, so much less

everlasting and always fresh
on the shoulders of mortal men
the muse of God has finally found
his creation seeking peace.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170825.
kokopelle: Horse Totem (Default)
A friend's song list on Spotify led me to the song "Pony" by Ginuwine. it's very adult, NSFW if you're going to have a listen. With that in mind, I considered that one goal of songs is to transport an emotional message. Melodies deliver both "Pony" and "The Old Rugged Cross". Both these songs look to rouse the passions of the listener. Songs and music are completely neutral in their concern about the subject matter. Instead they ask the listener to determine the relevance, and propriety, of the message. My poem, "The Catalyst", looks at this phenomenon.

The Catalyst

I heard them cry on their knees
as song to state earthly goals
asking for a set outcome
be it base or sacrosanct
the exalted saw the rugged cross
high up on the hill top
the others rode the prancing horse
with equal fervor of the first.

Those in song were supplicants
abiding by emotion's draw
the writer shared this through tune
now I'm captive to his muse
adoration is both their kink
one for God, the other crotch
spanning both the high and low
yet fair verse does not judge.

Stanzas express a burning need
so my ears are thus informed
emotion becomes the only path
drawn along the singer's voice
bless the muse for these goals
artistry beyond the pale
with music as the catalyst
I'll be torn to listen more.

Now my shoulders are a perch
imp and angel on each one
keen to sway my reeling mind
to their side, the right kind
though I suspect, I'll say this
that a tune will tap my foot
and if I like the end result
I will listen to both of them.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170526.
kokopelle: Horse Totem (Default)
“Bublé” was written for a contest that asked, “I'd like to hear the out-of-body experiences you have had. Not exactly as if dreaming or heaven-type experiences, but the moments so magical you must be somewhere not in this one reality”.


I’ve got Bublé in my head
minstrel of romantic sentiments
with a love more intense
urging my feet to leave this earth

happy feet with a quite a smile
I'd be nowhere else but on this high
Michael provides the sappy tunes
dancing close, side by side.

musical peers fill the space
dancers moved in their play
nothing to do this magic eve
but dance to the jazzy beat.

then the one comes on
a song meant to lift the heart
cloud the vision I may see
tears come to my happy eyes

Bublé is fully in my head
with a partner near at hand
I may be in heaven some day
but I'm close enough to it tonight.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170408.
kokopelle: (Mai)
I am profoundly thankful for the DJs that give of their time to provide social dance music. Their calling allows us to find some measure of peace in this world. The poem “Spin the Tunes” celebrates the DJ in their spiritual vocation.

Spin The Tunes

Please spin the tunes to sooth my soul
tortured now in sad repose
needed nurture as night needs sun
to chase the dark from my life
as feet find reason to attempt
something more than shuffle’s tramp
moving to the pulsing beat
born of the heavens moving grace.

I’ll life my hands in prayerful arcs
to show my cheer as pulses mark
a heartbeat based on ecstasy
from record’s voice to my feet
with motion’s blessing I then dance
not to sin or break the laws
instead I’ll soar to holy heights
on wings of notes with word’s delight.

So DJ of the purest heart
master of the songs at hand
lists constructed to appeal
to all those in this company
here to praise your fine gifts
each with need as strong as mine
rescue me from misery
play your tunes so I may find
in the dance that you provide
reasons to live and carry on.

2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20161022.
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (Frank-n-Furter)
Before videos our exposure to musicians and bands came from the presentations found on album covers. The poem “Cardboard Tableau” is about the magical nature of album covers experienced by the older generations.

Cardboard Tableau

My cardboard tableau
lend sight to the sounds
image fixed in my mind
why are you still the same?
I found you in the past
when my years were few
the music drew me there
ordained with cover’s view

records found behind your face
tapes concealed beyond the flare
doorway to life’s harmony
beyond the heroes fixed in ink
before MTV killed the star
the music rose from your throats
imagination lent your voice
to the tunes found within

the alter in bold colors drawn
photos of youth’s saviors
beyond mundane I worshiped
revelation of your appeal
the many times I spun the disk
played the tape in boom box bold
I stared into your fixed gaze
wishing I was something more

the years have passed one by one
though I’ve seen you on the stage
in video and concert scene
yet here you are once again
still so young while I am old
frozen by the spell then cast
I’ve moved along, you have not
cardboard tableau of youth now lost.

2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160927.
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (frank_n_furter)
I’m pretty sure I would have incarnated as the singer of a famous British rock group if fortune had smiled on me more. Instead I was younger than the man, passing the years in middle school. The song “Minstrel” is about the highlights of those years.


I was so young during those years
in formative seventies
moving through childhood’s bloom
as the minstrel played his songs

with long hair, fading hippie
nothing really matters under
white silk in under disco lights
in the year of seventy five

hawaiian shirt and cut leotard
looking for somebody to love
the decade so full embraced
in the celebration of two-hundred

time after time in black and white
bare chest with a mime suit
we are the champions my friends
in the midst of seventy seven

bicycles with a country flair
naked riders around Wimbledon
racing with a musical flair
in the year of seven and eight.

babe still a skinny lad
suspenders without mustache
shirt is optional with black pants
fat bottomed girls in seventy nine

minstrel of the piano keys
shooting star in leather’s embrace
celebrating the end of peace and love
at the end of a decade spent.

2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160919.
kokopelle: (Cat - Bunny Love)
I was frazzled from world events, work, and exhausted from mowing the lawn. The last was therapeutic, but I needed something else. I turned to a bit of slow jazz on internet radio, and even though I didn't have a person to slow dance with, I felt better nonetheless.

Rhythm is Our Course

I'll not need alcohol
no drug to ease my pains
band cue up the melodies
as my baby takes my hand.
Spin that sweet jazz
melt away my day
take me in your arms
as the music beings to play.

I've waited for this moment
angel hold me close
I'll not leave your side
while the beat sets the mood.
We'll not be in a rush
the tempo shows the way
the moves flow with ease
as bodies move in sway.

Conductor play it slow
don't worry about the end
the middle is the mark
where we would like to stay.
In the middle of the blues
fusion's hand will hold
the jazz to be our guide
as our bodies move as one.

Minutes are forever
heaven seen up close
the earth is far away
when rhythm is our course.
Perhaps the world has troubles
it's likely this is so
I'll leave it far behind
when the music holds us close.

© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160613.
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (Frank-n-Furter)
I spend a good bit of time listening to music. Shoot, if I had a memory for names I'd be an expert about it probably. I do listen instead as an escape of sorts. Some music can take me very far away, and this the topic of my poem “Musicality”.


I'll close my eyes to imagine
the shape of the music
the gifts of the same
movement of body
shimmy of the spirit
ecstasy of mind
in the eye's night.

I'll travel through space
in music's grasp
to other places
to other feelings
to others arms
where the music ruled
at that place in time.

Once again I'll loose myself
disconnect myself
detached from worry
let go of strife
drift far apart
to musicality
from reality.

© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160530.
kokopelle: (I Want to Believe)
The poem “Music's Realm” was inspired by a Tumblr blog about women DJs and the stellar performances of our local swing danced DJs.

Music's Realm

DJ you've got the job
of sending me away from here
to a world of music's realm
home of my life's heartfelt quest
no one else may their way
with this fragile human one
made immortal in the song
as you feed my lust for life.

While the tunes are in my head
I alone witness the notes
please aid birth to the outer
dancer's revelation made concrete
this is the music's child
DJ the chosen midwife
of the offspring incarnate
feet and heart move alike.

Now the world has shifted here
I've fallen one thousand feet
to place of your passion's bliss
imagined by turntable's way
there is nothing else to achieve
once the DJ has shared their grace
my heart and soul are combined
life complete in the music's realm.

© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160403.
kokopelle: Horse Totem (Default)
Several influences came together to inspire me to write the poem “Urge to Travel”. I didn't pay attention to following an exact syllable count. Instead I just went with a creation that “sounded good”. Not uncoincidentally, this is one of the best ways to travel as well.

Urge to Travel
Poem for Day 333 – 20151130

Here's to the urge to travel,
so many ways to stray,
venture beyond the walls
that constrain the common day.
I'll give you the list,
options to follow,
choose the best one
and far you will roam!

To journey on foot,
by car or by train,
the physical is fine
for the one that must ride.
The trip is the purpose,
the destination does not matter.
Just go where you want
and the body will follow.

Books open the door
to worlds beyond pages.
Limits are removed
when authors have their way.
Be electronic or paper,
the words are the magic.
Castles or spaceships,
imagination with no limit.

I'll dream of places beyond
the waking reality of it all.
No control over destination,
the gamble is in the dice.
Perhaps I will run
from monsters seeking my flesh
or I will be bliss most blessed
in arms beyond the veil of sleep.

Music is the sublime portal
of music and voice combined.
I'll float away in the embrace
of the muses' greatest gift.
So many ways to craft the words,
tunes provide the envelope
for the symphonic tour.

Lastly I'll put on my shoes,
step out to embrace the dance.
My soul finds an etheric place
to live beyond this life.
Contra or swing are both bliss,
each with it's own saving grace.
In the end I'll drift on sultry notes
while I hold another in my arms.

So many ways to satisfy
the urge to trek far beyond,
escape the chains of a quiet life,
escape the humdrum with all joy.
Each of these will be my way,
combined to travel heart and mind.
In the end I'll be the happy one,
embarked on the voyage of the soul.

© 2015, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.
kokopelle: Black Cat (Cat - Black)
The poem “The Tunes Understand” was inspired while I listened to the song "Dorian" by Anges Obel. I've written about my love of music and songs before. Here is another exclamation of the importance of music in my life.

The Tunes Understand
Poem for Day 292 – 20151020

I'd love to live in the music,
inhabit my favorite songs.
I'll escape from this living,
embrace the bass beat instead.
Mirror of a life complicated,
My heart may remain broken,
my passion may be enraged,
but the tunes do understand.

There is far more beauty within
the notes and melodies played
than in dreams asleep and awake
through which I must struggle on.
Memories retrieved from the well
of life's past mostly forgotten.
Times good and bad they may have been,
all in my favorite music.

Invisible spirits of air,
carry the music to my ears.
Bequeath your gift of harmony,
a composition sure to save my soul.
I'll move when there is no wind,
no one there to push me about.
I'm possessed by the melody,
slave to the rhythm of the beat.

Do not stray far from my side
songs of my youth now passed.
My mellow is reestablished
when I embrace the melodic.
Whatever life may throw my way
the songs will brace me this day.
I remain flawed as a man,
but the tunes do understand.

© 2015, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.
kokopelle: Black Cat (cat black)
I am heavily addicted to something I must have each and every day. With it I am a danger to myself and the world at large. What is this thing? It is music. It is my self-medicating drug of choice as I deal with my personal emotional demons. Insanity is too close by, with the outcome dire. Dance is a very close second to music in my mental health regimen, but I don’t have it on a daily basis like I do the balm of music.

Poem for Day 243 – 20150901

Show me the
beauty of music
to contrast the
world I now see.

Play the piano
to calm my mind,
when all I want
to do is scream.

Calm my anger
before I fly,
my rage within
two steps of Hell.

Sing the voice
of God's pure voice
so I may stay
another day.

Lend me the balm
of dulcet muse
to guide my steps
for ever more.

© 2015, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (Frank-n-Furter)
I listened to music by Brett Anderson. His piano work almost brought me to tears. The stream of musical consciousness begs for written accompaniment, if words could ever match the beauty. The poem “Lyricist's Wish” is the outcome of my thoughts on the combination of music and words.

Lyricist's Wish
Poem for Day 236 – 20150823

To hear the notes, to write the words,
passion to share feelings with you.
Stirred by the stream of melody,
composition by fellow man.
Pale echo of music expressed
in ink spilled two dimensional
against the whole breadth
of an artist's musical work.

Is my effort sufficient?
Will it stir your heart and soul?
Mutterings of a lesser man,
the sideshow to the feature act.
To try will be my sole refrain,
while words are not enough,
they will speak my soul's inner self,
a thing worthy to meet music's grasp.

Fervent wish from the lyricist,
fondest results of their craft,
that the words may combined
with a song of matched melody.
In the end the words will soar,
held up by wings of music's tones.
Creation joined in blessed rapture,
to touch the heart and sing the soul.

© 2015, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (frank_n_furter)
I became a Placebo fan. I’m so not complaining. Listening to songs, watching videos and concerts, made me realize that they’ve been around for twenty years. Some of their tunes, still played lovingly today, go back that far. This got me thinking, how do they play the same songs over and over again? What drives them? The lyrics “Songs Remain the Same” are an examination of this thought.

Songs Remain the Same
Poem for Day 226 – 20150814

The same songs all these years,
playing to the generations,
new acolytes discovering
while you retread the old ground.
I cast new poems into the pond,
too many to count in an afternoon.
Your discography fills a page,
outcome of a creative dream.

The clink of money in the bank,
easy comfort in exchange
for lyric's constant repetition
as the balance is increased.
What the true payment,
ledger's bottom line embraced?
Laughing all the way to the bank
while you play the same songs again.

The same songs again,
repeated ad nauseam.
The same songs again,
repeated for the loving fans.
The same songs again,
repeated with nothing else to say.

Does your soul age as you play
familiar ground seen once again?
Different venues, larger crowds
and the songs remain the same.
Larger shows, new scenery,
treats revealed for the eye,
big screens and fancy props,
and the songs remain the same.

The thrill of fan's accolades,
crowds as far as the eye can see,
you have this and I do not,
aphrodisiac to the soul.
You become the god
on the stage in front of fans,
playing the same tunes for their joy
is this enough for you my friend?

The same songs again,
repeated ad nauseam.
The same songs again,
repeated for the loving fans.
The same songs again,
repeated with nothing else to say.
The same songs again,
songs remain the same,
songs remain the same.

© 2015, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.
kokopelle: (ATHF - Moonnites Rule)
Music plays an incredibly important role in my life. While I am only small bit player (North American Flute) in the musical world, other’s output both entertains me and keeps me sane.

Wake to Music
Poem for Day 135 – 20150515

Wake to music to speak my soul,
song running circles in my mind.
Too dazed to walk, with a desire to hear
melodies speak to an inner ear.
You'll see a dance step here and there,
body responds to siren call,
sway in motion to techno tempo,
close the eyes to feel what's real.

Self made DJ takes no requests,
mix tape only one could love,
guitar solo rides percussion wave
as Lords of Acid flails my brain.
Sane man's soundtrack in a mad world,
hold back the silence with the words,
substitute a tune when language fails,
rhythmic beat companion to my world view.

Transport me away from the now,
to a dimension of sparkly sounds,
there the present is removed,
combined with the best of all things.
I remember you held in my arms,
musical echo of good past times,
held to heart when you're not here,
melodic memories of years now past.

Wake to music to speak my soul,
distracted from death's constant pull,
specter of reality begone from here,
music be my savior in many forms.
I couldn't exist without this remedy,
salve to my soul, sounds in my head,
it matters not to hear it again,
only that I remember to live again.

© 2015. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (frank_n_furter)
The poem “Lover” is about a companion that I do turn to in the morning, have accompany me through much of the day, and then be one of the last encounters I make before bedding. This companion more constant than the mistress of dance that I've kept all these years, and I believe, my lover will be with me till the end.

Poem for Day 002 – 20150102

Familiar consort,
come to me.
Heal my heart,
calm my mind.
Wake with me
in the morn.
Walk with me
through my day.
Be my companion
on long drives
when nobody else
is there.
Remind to the past,
of good times,
as you guide me
to future desired.
Inspire me in my art,
be not discrete,
share your past lovers
with me.
Fill my time
with your company
as only a true lover
may do.
You'll do all this,
sweet music,
savior of my soul,
heroine of my heart,
till my dying day.

© 2015. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.
kokopelle: (ATHF - Shake)
A DJ swing music mix made me realize that a lot of swing type songs are about food. I don’t find this too strange. The band musicians, many of the guys wrote these songs, were always on the road touring. Good meals could be few and far between. One would expect that the guys would be focused on food! This inspired me to write a poem, really lyrics to a song, about the connection between a musician and their love for food!

In the Kitchen
Poem for Day 059 – 20141121

A musician's gotta eat, food for heart and soul.
The roads a hungry place, no vittles in my bowl.
My lady's back home in the kitchen waiting,
that's where hunger will be abating.

I've been on the road for far too long,
gotta get home where I belong,
get some of that good cookin from my lady,
who's willing put the meal out for her baby.

Set me up with some breakfast,
make that a bagel and baguette,
and please don't forget,
I love some bacon with my cheerios.

How about some Chinese? Make mine a stuffed egg roll,
you'll have that meat on a stick to eat whole.
Take my noodles, mix them with the sauce you bring,
put them along side those oh so round calamari rings.

Gotta have my hot dog wrapped in a warm bun,
French fries and potato waffles, oh what fun!
Dessert would be nice, something sweet can be found,
I'll take that bundt cake topped with pineapple rounds.

We'll be eating around the clock,
we'll stay in the kitchen, turn that lock.
I'm back home, my gal's cookin for me still,
won't be leaving till I've had my fill.

A musician's gotta eat, food for heart and soul.
The roads a hungry place, no vittles in my bowl.
My lady's back home in the kitchen waiting,
that's where hunger will be abating.

© 2014. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.
kokopelle: (ATHF - Moonnites Rule)
The arts are often handed down through families. A combination of inspiration and apprenticeship result in latter generations embracing artistic efforts. Sometimes the heritage is bitter sweet, because an artist's life can be challenging, but the torch is still passed.

Dulcet Destiny
Poem for Day 035 – 20141028

My father was a bard,
a master of the notes.
At his hands instruments sang
from melodies learned by rote.
He was a tired traveler,
across many far afield.
His audience a-changing
as he sang for his welfare.

He bequeathed rhyme laden song,
baroque besotted stanzas,
and longing lusty lyrics.
His music was passed to me,
legacy instrumental,
meant to entertain others,
lyrical inheritance,
Musical birthright endowed.

I am the bard apparent,
master of the musical.
my instruments serve me well,
as I sing for your pleasure.
I share my song declarant,
the road beneath my swift feet.
Each show a testimony
to my dulcet destiny.

© 2014. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.
kokopelle: (Cat Licking)
My life is a little frazzled right now. In response I’ve been listening to the Peter Kater & R. Carlos Nakai channel on Pandora. My usual listening fare are artists like Placebo, Dead Can Dance, and Wolfsheim. I also listen to a lot of EDM (electronic dance music). These are good artists, but sometimes even they can step on frayed nerves. I’ve noticed a few things about the Peter / Carlos channel. The first is that I don’t mind the repetition of songs, a sad “feature” of Pandora artist stations. I am also getting inspired to record some my American Indian flute playing. I’d have to practice first! You know what would be really neat… if I combined photos with the music in a video. Oh goodie… more art type stuff to do.
kokopelle: (Cat Chair)
A friend and I were chatting about dance quotes.  I found my quote "dance is music made visible". This really spoke to me.   I have a secret love affair with music, and for me dance is an extension of music.   I suppose that I am taking pictures of music when I take pictures of dancers.  Is that cool or what? 

My friend shared a quote that stated that the movement of the dancer is the extension of the music you are hearing.  I think life is more complicated than that.   Some people dance to their own tune, and not the music that's currently turned on.    The saying "Dance to your soundtrack" comes to mind.    Part of me finds this disturbing because my "soundtrack" is not always friendly to me.  Sometimes we need a reminder that our dances are off, in need of an adjustment.

The magic I find in music is that it reminds me that there is a purer vibration than the soundtrack I have going on in my head.  Music helps me transcend my soundtrack because it transcends the everyday world.  Music is magic.  I really believe that music is the expression of order and chaos, each in counter balance. Music can be so predictable, but there is such mystical expression in outcome.   I find comfort in that dual nature of music: order and art


kokopelle: Horse Totem (Default)

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