Music Poems by Ellen Kozisek


Music Is

What is music?
Music is a feeling
That can be passed from one person to another
And recorded for others to share in.
It is something that can be easily understood,
But is hard to explain to someone.
Music is love,
That's what music is.


Music
Peaceful, friendly
Pacifying, uniting, touching
The language of love
Music


A Warm Thank You

to Paul McCartney

For all the songs you've given me
Throughout the many years,
For Beatles, Wings, and solo tunes,
For all the joys and tears,
I thank you from deep in my heart
And hope for you the best.
A lot more songs I wish for you
Before you're laid to rest.


This poem was inspired by the music of Night Ranger and is dedicated to Jack Blades and Jeff Watson, and to God, who is the source of all music.

Surrender

I lie down.
I listen to your music.
Everything else disappears.
I surrender to the music.
I become one with the music.

As I do, I connect with something more.
Your music becomes a pathway.

As I experience the music,
I experience our Lord.
As I become one with the music,
I become one with God.

Your music is a gift.
Through it I touch the greatest gift of all.


A "Mountain Cathedral" picture

The music paints a picture.

I see a mountain meadow
Hidden away in a valley
Far from the noise of civilization.
The mountains rise above it
Strong and powerful.
A river runs through it,
Settling into a lake,
Then running downhill again.


Poem for Bob Walkenhorst

In the year 2002 I went and took a wee short trip
Up I-29, to the town of St. Joseph.
I discovered there a band that I thought was really good.
They called themselves the Elders and buy their CDs I would.

The guitarist, named Steve Phillips, well I thought was really great,
And I wanted to hear more but 5 more months I couldn't wait.
Of his former band I realized I must become a fan.
To buy a Rainmakers CD that soon became my plan.

So I sent to Steve an email, "Which album should I buy?"
"Flirting With the Universe" is what he did reply.
But I'd have to mail order, wait 2 months to get it in,
So I went to the used CD store and bought the CD Skin.

I listened with an open mind to all the songs I heard,
Not just to the music, but also to the words.
The message was intriguing, the music it was fine,
And I listened to it over again many many times.

I visited the message board to see just what was there.
I saw that Bob was playing live and noted when and where.
I thought I check it out and give Bob Walkenhorst a chance.
In the back I stood and then I soon began to dance.

Bob had a solo album that was new the week before.
I looked around to buy it and finally found it by the door.
I bought it, and I listened, and with it I did connect.
Bob Walkenhorst is someone I both relate to and respect.

An Irish pub that's called Molloy's is where Bob weekly plays.
Jeff Porter and Norm Dahlor are his bandmates on Wednesdays.
I soon began to go each week to hear Bob play and sing.
To listen and to dance at Bob shows is a wonderful thing.

They used to sit and play each show, but then one week they stood.
Now standing is the norm, but when they sit, well that's still good.
And Bob and Jeff with Gary and Pat play monthly weekend shows.
I hope it lasts for years and years, but the future no one knows.

Bob Walkenhorst is someone I look up to and admire.
His music touches my heart; my soul he does inspire.
The Tour That Goes Nowhere it is; Molloy's Pub is our home.
His fans and friends we'll always be, wherever we may roam.


Note: Everything in the above poem is true. Or was when I wrote it, anyway. For those unfamiliar with the Elders, no, they aren't from St. Joseph. They are from Kansas City. I just happened to discover them at a festival in St. Joseph which they played at.


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©2005 Ellen Kozisek
Created: April 5, 1998
Modified: July 13, 2005
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