I'm Going To Grandma's (Sing Loud, Sing Often)

Mother Nature’s rain

poked me right in the eye,

as her wind and clouds had their way with me.

In this city full of pain I give it my best try,

but I’m not sure you can live here 

and be free.

It’s not safe here anymore,

this place is ready to explode.

Who’ll light the fuse on this box of dynamite?

Draw the shade, lock the door,

help me lay down this load,

and we’ll sleep with one eye open tonight.

maybe I said the wrong thing...maybe I looked the wrong way...maybe I just gotta go.

Grab the cash, drive all night,

no more city left in sight,

up that dark and lonely mountain road.

I’m going to Grandma’s.

She’ll know what to do.

A cup of tea with lemon

a hug from Grandpa too.

Gonna learn me how to laugh again

from my belly, deep within,

and when Grandma sings

its like a bird on the wind.

My heart will fly,

and I’ll be fine.

She’s cooking something grand

in her antique roasting pan,

while spinning yarns into wooly hats of rainbows.

A leopard house coat suits her

as evening attire,

and with stray dogs by the fire,

I’ll be welcome in the House of Fur.

..and I complain about how obsessive people in the city 

tell phony stories and are just trying to be seen

and it’s all a game!

..and she tells me wonderful stories

of when the smell of orange groves still came through the window

after they were gone.

..and I plead to her for the answers 

I so desperately need!

..and never losing her smile,

she sighs, then whispers:

“Sing loud, sing often,

and let them know,

this world is your stage,

they cant steal your show.

Give your gifts, they are balm for those souls

that are weary and worn from their heavy loads.

Be silent no more,

and take your time, because it’s yours.”

Of course, she’s right,

sing and hold tight. 

Leave things inside 

and they will eat you alive.

Release it,

and you can breathe again.

I traveled many miles

trying towns on for size.

They just don't fit.

So I found my own mountain

with meadows of green

and made a simple life of simple things.

There is a simple life.

I take the long drive to the ocean under a bright blue sky 

and bask in the love of friends so dear.

It’s hard when you can’t keep all your loves near.

The edges have softened,

the fear has flown,

and my purpose now is clear:

“Sing loud, sing often.”

Ken Owen,  Van Niddy Music,  March 2012

Guadalupe

Guadalupe in the window,

bleeding heart and tortured smile 

of silent suffering,

peers through tattered curtains

absolving the sins 

of the world.

Candle at the alter

summons images 

of those since passed

to dance on walls 

in ghostly light.

She dreams,

the weight of absolution gone.

The city’s roar; crashing waves,

choking heat and stale air; the smell of sea and wind.

Hearts and letters drawn in sand,

but lovers never there

when waves wash them away

as she walks the beach alone.

Guadalupe in the window,

parchment aged and color worn

from years of nightly petition,

peers through tattered curtains

absolving the sins 

of the world.

Ken Owen,  Van Niddy Music,  July 2012

By Your Good Grace

By your good grace,

I live the life that others dream

but may never realize

through solemn servitude. 

By your good grace,

I see the world

in all her splendor

from the other side of the window.

By your good grace,

I write hymns of love

as the voice of broken spirits.

By your good grace,

I walk the cliffs 

and drink the vast horizon

where sea meets sand.

By your good grace,

my eyes have opened

to see small things 

that went unnoticed.

By your good grace,

I know why things 

appear like magic

just when we need them.

By your good grace,

I can do what I must

because you give

more than you take.

By your good grace,

I can see the path 

that brought me to you

was the right one all along.

Ken Owen,  Van Niddy Music,  July 2012

We Won't Say Good-Bye

The plans of the day,

I tried them all

one by one

nothing worked

when I heard the news of you.

If there was a way,

to hold you

just once more

I would tell you

all the things I hope you knew.

To get you to stay

I’d give it all

that and more

without question

for more time before we’re through.

The things that they say

we’ve lost you

you’ve left us

gone forever

but I know that isn’t true.

We know where you are 

you’re everywhere at once

now that the spirit has flown.

Our love will be the light 

to guide you home...

...tonight,

you’ll watch a million memories burn bright

and joy from all those yesterdays take flight.

Through the tears we’ll cry

we won’t say good-bye

we’ll say good-night.

As the days go by

the wind upon my cheek

the warmth of summer suns

will be you.

As I face the fears I dread

the voice inside my head 

will always sound like you.

It’s time to be strong

tell the stories

say a prayer

to remember

we will never be alone.

And our love will be the light to guide you home...

...tonight,

you’ll watch a million memories burn bright

and joy from all those yesterdays take flight.

Through the tears we’ll cry

we won’t say good-bye

we’ll say good-night.

Ken Owen,  Van Niddy Music,    June 2012

Ken Owen, Songwriter, Part 2: The Drummer Has A Songbook

(originally published to Facebook December 2011)

I am proud to announce that I just completed my second semester of Jim Bruno's Song Writing class at Foothill College in Los Altos, CA. I call it by it's official title, though some have mentioned that Jim's class has become more cult-like than class-like, with some veteran students taking the class a dozen times or more. The passion and dedication that these folks show to Jim and his teachings could be it's own case study in the need for the supportive environment we all seek while trying to learn and grow. Jim's class is a testament to the power of positive reinforcement, and Jim is a Master.

When I started Jim's class six months ago, I had a notebook with over 20 years of song ideas, titles, poems, stories, etc..that I had never completed. With the support and encouragement of Jim and his talented song writing students, I now have 12 home-recorded original song demos, and the new-found courage to provide them online for public review. That's a huge leap from where I was when I started this class! I can look back and see a tremendous improvement from my first song to my latest, and my folder continues to get many new song ideas.

One of the assignments we had was to write a song emulating a fellow class mate. This was an interesting experiment in not only trying to copy someone's style, but it showed how much every student in class was affecting each other. Lots of emulation assignments became "that has Brian's vocal phrasing with Paul's favorite tempo and Tom's rhyming scheme". Fascinating! And imagine my pride when a few folks chose to emulate me and my fledgling song stylings - I became the de facto country song writer of the group - I was beaming with pride!

I also learned about collaborating with other song writers, something that brings it's own positives and potential conflicts; editing a song, also an eye-opening part of the song writing process, as in "my song is too long, but where do I cut?". The music that the students brought with their lyrics was wonderfully crafted and performed, and some of the vocal performances were outstanding! I found myself rooting for others while watching their personal development, and seeing their efforts get better each week extremely inspiring!

I can't thank  Jim and his students enough for their encouragement and support I received each week with my submissions. I would recommend anyone with an interest in song writing take one of Jim's classes at Foothill or The Freight and Salvage in Berkeley. And of course, I would have never accomplished any of this personal growth if not for the encouragement of Maurice Tani: Master Song Writer, Musician, Band Mate, and good friend. It was a great experience.

So now, because of...

Maurice Tani:

http://www.western-independent.com/77eldeora/

and

Jim Bruno:

http://www.jimbrunomusic.com/home

there is...

Ken Owen

http://soundcloud.com/ken-owen/

Thanks to you all for your encouragement and support.

-KO

Ken Owen, Songwriter; Part 1: The Drummer Has A Songbook

"He's got a tattered grey notebook,
had it for years,
it's got all of his happiness, sadness, and tears."

...and so it's been since I was a young hippie in high school; always observing, listening, and writing things down: song titles, lyrics, thoughts, poetry, free verse, etc....I re-discovered my old notebook just prior to our recent move, and though reliving past writings that came straight from the (usually broken) heart was somewhat painful (and a little embarrassing), I realized that there are (IMHO) some fairly decent things in that tattered grey notebook. Then it occurred to me that if I could ever get going and turn my writings into songs, I could pull a few favors and call on the talents of some of the most creative musicians in the Bay Area that I've been lucky enough to perform with over the last 30+ years to help me see my songs performed and recorded. I had to start somewhere, so I took a more recent song idea, turned it into verses and choruses and handed it to my friend and mentor Maurice Tani, asked for his feedback, and took a deep breath.

Maurice is a wonderful song craftsman who takes great pride in the art form of the song, so to say I was intimidated would be an under-statement. Three weeks went by with no response from Maurice, and I wrote it off to him being one very busy gentlemen and I left it at that. So imagine my surprise to not only receive a recorded version of Maurice singing a version of my song, but an accompanying story that he liked it so much that he had been performing it at singer/song writer circles! His support has been amazing; he not only loaned me a multi-track recording machine to record my song ideas/demos on, but encouraged me to enroll in Jim Bruno's Song Writing Class at Foothill College (more on that in a future posting) where Maurice's special guest performances in the class have garnered him a well deserved "Song Writer Guru" status.

I have turned into a classic case of "it's never to late to learn"; I am back in school (which is amazing if you knew how badly the last school wanted me out), I have a wonderful friend as a great tutor, and the creative juices are flowing so much that I can barely keep up with all the song ideas that seem to come from all around me. I am discovering music again by listening to lyrics and not just the musical performances, with a new understanding and appreciation of what makes a song lyrically great. It's been challenging but fun, and it feels great to learn.

No more ramblings for today; I've got homework!

Regards,

KO

Grateful

Jack misses his owner, and the feeling is mutual.

Been a long while since I did a posting, and plenty of updates for a year half-gone already. I've moved from Fremont to El Granada (near Half Moon Bay) and I'm learning how to be a roommate - something I haven't done in over 30+ years. Thankfully, my roomies are wonderful and have become great friends during my 'transition period'. But Jack had to stay in Fremont. I make it over there as often as I can for visits and long walks.

Being on my own again has been quite an adjustment, but I couldn't have picked a better place to figure out what the next steps in my life should be. El Granada is beautiful and right on the ocean - pretty nice when you can start your day with long walks on the beach while you figure things out! One of my recent resolutions has been to start making time for family and friends - all the folks you've been meaning to call or have coffee with - well, now's the time to show them how much I appreciate them; then, now, and always.

I miss Jack, but my roomies have a very cute little Jack Russell/Chihuahua mix named Bailey who is quickly stealing a place in my heart. I'm using the walks on the beach with little Bailey, and the walks on the Fremont trails with Jack, as a place for my daily reminder of the bigger picture in life and the things of real importance and value: the health and happiness of myself, my family, and my friends.

Or as my dear departed friend John Havard once sang, "I guess that I'm not usually this grateful all the time".

I'm working on that, Johnny.