As the pastel moon rises across the midnight blue
a lone wolf’s dark silhouette appears into view
his boast is known from Cowboy to prairie dog
fore this is the night chill that turns to morning fog
the early dawn is thawed by a piping hot cup o’ Joe
No time to waste, just a few days brings first snow
Such is the Cowboy’s life on the cattle drive
My knees were the things that
kept me up and my skin is my
cutting board my eyes are the
rain clouds to the fire running
down my arms and my heart is
the fire place that keeps me
burning so calm
I'm locked up how is it even possible to go lock down? But like clock work or a slave in debt to a master I do. Not because I choice to, but because I have no choice. Either lock down or deal with the boot squad, which consist of twenty guards all built like they just step off of the set the hit movie 300 Rise of an Empire. This a few months back would have configured a difficult challenge for me, being I've always had authority issues, or been an issue for authority..... one or the other. Behind these evil walls the outside rules do not apply. For starters you can be who ever you want to be here, no one is going check your resume or say otherwise. I've never been in a place where approximately 80% of the population was professional MMA fighters. Not to mention we over crowded. So a population that was supposed to be 1500 was more like 2000, meaning people sleeping on floors. Yes Hundreds on a hard concrete floor. Still the here are different, so of course naturally no one cares, because to Them, Them being our keepers, we are just animals and so we are treated as such. We are told when to wake, when to sleep, when to feed. Dogs have more freedom, but its justified because we are behind theses evil walls and well the rules here are different. Here Them are Gods and we, the worthless animals, I'm sorry criminals are nothing, but mere, well Nothing. Behind these evil walls we are trained how to be worst then we are originally we are mixed in with the worst kinds of people in order to ensnare us into bonding and conspiring amongst one another only to caught once again and return to the place which in fact made us what we are at that very moment in time. But only the weak at Heart Fall for this ploy. Us who Never forgot who we were, or by some act of God somehow find ourselves behind these walls, we vow never to return, never to darken these stairwells again, but that's what probation and things like parole are for, to ensure that we do but THEM they know the ones they can break. Not me I hate these Walls. These walls are a constant reminder of everything I Hate about control and Authority. I will never return not even to visit, because every time you are there its like a relapse, the next time is so much easier.
Whenever you see a rainbow
After a raging storm
Look at the beautiful colors
And see the perfect form
For beyond this rainbow
Is exactly where I'm found
Watching you below me
Not making a single sound
The colors seem to blend together
Making a perfect hue
You'll feel a sense of blessed peace
As I send my love to you
Whenever you see a rainbow
Remember what lies beyond
The time will come, til we meet again
To praise in our eternal bond.
Forever yours, in heart, soul and mind
Eternally grateful love,
Your furry companion.
Each time I think of the ones we loved so and lost, inspired me to pen this to help find peace in our grief. We miss the physical touch, the site, the smell - but one thing we will always have is the cherished memories of love, til we meet again.
I share this with you, to find that peace that goes beyond the rainbow and back again. With putting this down into words from my thoughts - I will not only look at a rainbow as God's covenant with all living creatures - I will also look at it as - I know where my dogs are and smile, for one day, one glorious day - we'll meet again..........
Standing tall and firm
majestic, a warrior's companion,
they run through the open plans,
free, like a bird of the air
to walk among them is a like a dream
I want to run with the wild horses
who are peaceful, yet dangerous
I want to run with the wild horses.
The true story of the American west
Is one of killing field slaughters and
The bison killers worked day and night
They were all busier than a kennel full
of dogs in heat
The bison had never seen anything
And therefore knew nothing of how to
Their bodies piled up on prairies by the
While human beings continued their
Humans had no thought about an animal's
Mention of such would have laughed them
into a slop bowl
This all points out a basic flaw in the nature
The evidence was there since man's time on
Animals to Man are just mechanized bodies
of meat and fur
Causing no lapse of conscience for killings
But human beings think to improve Mother
What they forget is this mother suffers no fools
When Man becomes comfortable in his unnatural
Then mother will send earthquakes and floods to
level Man flat
Where the sky meets the earth and the highway goes on and on, a white satin ribbon snaking across a sea of brown. You can see far into the distance with no trees to obscure your view. No billboards mar the landscape, no skyscrapers rise out of the ground. Rolling hills, tumble-weed, yucca, sagebrush and distant mountains range on forever. Herds of antelope roam freely, wearing coats of butterscotch and whipped cream.
Artists leave their signatures, huge metal sculptures drawing the eye, many miles in advance. Anticipation grips you as you wait to identify buffalo, roadrunner, jackrabbit, Brahma bull or horse and rider.
Contemplate a life so different from your own, experience the serenity as you roll along with so little effort, feel the fulfillment, the contentment, the embracing freedom.
Up before dawn, his feet hit the floor
He can't pretend to sleep anymore
His clothes displayed neatly, beside his bed
He places his hat atop his head
Today is the day he will pay off his debts
He won't return home with any regrets
The first to arrive, empty stands
Soon to be filled with clapping hands
In the blink of an eye, the parking overflows
With tickets in hand they fill in the rows
A couple of clowns to fill in the gap
An impatient bunch, he can hear their feet tap
Alone in a stable with his hat on his chest
He prays to The Lord, that he will do his best
Peaks around the corner for a glimpse of his opponent
An unstable beast and he has to tone it
Brushes off the doubt and dusts his boots
Exposes himself, "Yeehaw", he hoots
Ready to go, signed the waiver
Cards seem to be playing in his favor
While riding him bare
A split second scare
He regains control
At the delight of his soul
Held steady till the crowd cried
Landed on two feet. It was an 8 second ride
Ode To Romanova - A Good Horse
Romanova is a good horse;
truly one of a kind;
Her story I will tell you
if so you are inclined.
She'd the look of a racehorse;
tall of stature, red of hue;
With Power and beauty;
I thought, a winner through and through.
But her mind had been a-scatter,
Headstrong, rambunctious and wild,
Until a bond we created
My God, it took a while.
An understanding grew between us,
Like no one else could do,
A Love and respect had blossomed
that was both strong and true.
One day she came onto the track;
With a gleam in her eye;
and a flare to her nostrils
But her odds, they were high.
She broke from the gate;
and ran like a train;
Passed horse after horse;
oh boy, did she gain!
The jockey said "Let's go, girl"
Her name all did call;
There she charged out in front;
Ahead of them all.
Stride after stride;
her lead grew down the lane.
She was first past the wire;
the wind blowing through her mane.
Prancing back home;
A proud look on her face;
Clearly she knew;
She was "Winner of the Race".
That sweet taste of victory
made her always yearn for more
To fly like the wind...,
That's what she had been born for
With each win she walked more nobly,
More confident, assured and satisfied.
The little-girl-scared, was now a champion,
We stood victorious together, she and I, side by side.