Harmonicahelps.….. from a contented Busker.

  Adam Gussow professional

  Knocking on your Door

  Consider earlier...

 ...That he thought a couple of my impromptu pieces sounded like Swiss Village Music. He walked over from his parked car to ask about my background. He was Austrian. I told him that on my Mother's side it was English and Danish; on my Father's side it was Scottish, Irish and Pennsylvania Deutch. Nothing Swiss? But I do enjoy the simple pure sound of it and the sincere clarity. He was a real encouragement. Talked for about 15 minutes. Ya see? Music gets us talking, engaging, finding points of agreement, lifting each other up.  This was about 20 minutes after I had seen my Gospel friend Paul, (German and Dutch background, and co-participant in house churches of the past. He heard my Gospel touches, and approached, all smiles and good wishes.)

  With no disrespect intended to good secretaries. Honest. Tim's character justaworksmehintodagiggles. Datsafershurr.

 

  With this Old Boy's mellow baritone sound and ever present harp, New Orleans is blessed and happy. Grandpa Elliott

Staccato picking Power of Sister Rosetta in 50's and 60's

 

  He wheeled up Plopped the battered bike down And sat on it Looked me full face, saying I appreciate you. Big smiles but glazed eyes. Drugs or booze? Liquor Store nearby. I wanted him to sit awhile. (Keep that bagged bottle out of sight.) Feel the music in peace. He used the term good old stuff. He needed it; he did it. Without too many odd outbursts Unsettling the passers-by. A rare session communing. Some forty minutes perhaps. Some tearful accounts Involving Father and Grandmother. (Her funeral was imminent.) Just needed a patient listening ear. Me. By Divine appointment. This strange old Busker. Friend Jimmy H. would have Done the same. With mellow guitar. Told him to listen to Grandpa Elliott online.

  He spoke and it happened The Cosmos you know And critters came running And stars all did show. His Word must take action From Man’s Fall to Win He warns from pretension. He counters the Sin. God offers us Wisdom And Covenant and Health It’s all in the Book, friend Go see for yourself.

 

  Zoltan Kodaly (1882-1967) was a Hungarian music educator/composer who developed an extraordinary building block format for child like pitch and tempo intuition in performing music (just like learning a language in bite size meals). I suffered through an interminable sales advertisement on repeated failures that the narrator had endured in searching for that “it” factor crucial to easy, fun and confident music-making. The narrator kept on saying how ONE WORD unlocked it all. He had consulted numerous courses and online interest forums asking the question and getting myriads of techniques that only produced headaches and frustration with the immense urge just to give up. His wife in a kindly comment suggested that he lighten up and spend more time with her. Perhaps just a nicer way to say that he was never going to get the knack, never going to be a free-flowing music entertainer. Unchained from all the theory and technical stuff and self-consciousness. But then after a hiatus, he got

  the Dutch love their Andre and his delightful music blend with orchestra whatsazither?

She smiled approaching And liked the sweet music Heard it in church. But harp made so simple What once was stuffy. This kind of music Had whetted her search. Started East Germany Now a sweet widow Marvel how converse Had opened us up. Music the trigger Engaging like fast friends Bringing community In a fresh cup. Often develops A simple engagement Folks want to talk Just needing a push. I’m there for them With retirement hobby. No complications No panic, no rush.

  How many nights In his room did he practise? How many songs Did he sift through the chords? How many years Has he held clear the images? Bringing rich tunes Helping others along. He, filled with music Though other things fading. Precious the reflex To strum and to sing. Heaven will hold All the best music joining. Glory restores to him Most everything. (Take a look at Psalm 71)

  Music and Peace July 09, 2022   In the parking lot sitting They just hang on my song And the C Harp works wonders An odd audience comes along. Perhaps at the wheel, a Mom While daughter departs With a Loonie for Douglas Or a thumbs up of Heart. That’s the joy in the busking Seeing people who smile And delight in the discourse Being friendly a while.  Some will dance with the sweet notes Some will thank for release. It’s the MUSIC refreshing. It’s the vanguard of Peace.

 

  Kenny Rogers...know when to walk away Know when to run... Fine time to leave me, Lucille.

  Poncho and Lefty Funny. How Time Slips Away And Kris brings a wonderful story of faith.

  Reluctant with the Eyes. -  July 03, 2022   Passing me by While I perform (rejoice) Avoid all my harps Avoid my deep Voice. Skip everything That smacks of a talk. Covid did that. So quietly they walk. Masks are off. Good. But wives' tales remain. Stay apart! Don't engage. These days only Pain Can come from a meeting Can come from a chat. The NEW Righteousness is crazy Community quite flat. The leaders sang foolish The media joined in. And converse of kind sort  Their NEW KIND OF SIN. Bah HUMBUG. This old singer says He talks to the people He uplifts. He plays. (Happily today in the Park, I met new friends visiting Town. Anup and Jazz. Using bicycles from the Walper Hotel. They took in what I was trying to say. They got it. Thankfully, many are getting it. Music and friendly exchanges are coming back.)

  If I might bring the smile And lighten just a while Those harps can bring release And songs made sweet with peace. Then effort, practice right Brings daybreak out of night. Amen, my friends. Just sing...like this.

 

 

 

Eleventh floor on the balcony.  I hear him Four AM He’s up for worms You know. Some other birds Sing later. The Jay or finch Or crow. But robin beats The dawning Whatever weather brings. He hopes, he toils Forgets the strain. And chiefly As he sings. This little friend Brings comfort. And I in bed awhile. Or rising to The keyboard. With lines like these I smile. https://issuu.com/deedub51/docs/bird_song Comments