Guthrie Poems | Examples

MAGA Make America Gentle Again

I like the heroic America of World War II;...
The America champion of good technology...
The America that freed us from the damned little mustache...
The America of Hollywood, of cinema,
Of black soul music, of Doo Wop,
Soft rock of Credence Clearwater Simon, Bob Dylan
Folklore... Woodie Guthrie, Peter Seeger,
Peter, Paul, Mary, mixed with country and blues,
Poets like Walt Withman, Emily Dickinson, Robert Frost. BEAT POETS...
The America of Frank Lloyd W. Edison, OTHERS...
Not an America with dyed hair and greed
madness for money and power...men colored
in yellow who only think of domination,
and submission of others, without thinking of brotherhood among peoples...
MAGA Make America Gentle Again

Atrocity

Whether the Indigenous People,
robed in leathers, head dressed in feathers,
who had their own sovereign nations,
wanted it or not,
June 2nd 1924,
U.S. President Calvin Coolidge
condescendingly signed the Snyder Act,
a.k.a., the Indian Citizenship Act, into law,
thereby conferring American citizenship
on American Indians.

He had it backwards,
it was no more than an affront
as, whether the Indigenous People
wanted them or not,
it was American Indians who,
altho' they made no claim to own Mother Earth,
should have conferred American citizenship
on the Paleface People,
who were mere trespassers on tribal territory.

And Woody Guthrie
(1912 – 1967),
another white man,
was not referring
to Native Americans
when he wrote,
'This land is your land.'

Woody Guthrie

Woodrow Wilson Guthrie
sang about the people who lived roughly
he wrote and sang earthy songs a plenty
and he was friend and mentor to many

RIP Alice

Alice passed away this week,
But it would just be wrong
If a Turkey Day went by without
Us listening to her song*.

For Arlo Guthrie wrote a tale
About her restaurant
And he started a tradition
Which, each year, I always want.

We’re sitting in the car, en route
To have our special meal
And at noon on classic radio,
My husband at the wheel,

The eighteen minute tune comes on;
We laugh at every word
Of this “massacree,” a story
Which, though true, is most absurd.

And when the chorus comes around,
We belt it loud and clear,
Reminding us that it’s Thanksgiving
And we’re all still here.

Today we pulled up early,
(Me, my daughter and my spouse)
To the driveway of our son
And soon he exited his house

In the pouring rain and climbed inside,
While Arlo did his thing
And he joined right in, so chorus time,
The four of us did sing.

More family waited in his home,
But they did not take part.
Still, this was the moment of the day
That really touched my heart.

*Alice’s Restaurant Massacree” by Arlo Guthrie

Gibson's Gals

Kalamazoo kids went off to war
leaving giddy gals to go forward in fractured
factories ~from music to munitions
gay guitars would wait until battered boys
came hurriedly home...

or would they wait?

The thought was there but Gibson's gals 
did not care for world war and behind 
the building's walls would give guitars 
attuned attention; first making munitions 
then manufacturing those magical music guitars.

The Gibson Factory in Kalamazoo, Michigan is known for its iconic guitars... During World War II, many of Gibson’s competitors had switched to munition-making in an effort to support the war at home. Gibson followed suit—on the surface, at least. While it did hire more women than any other guitar-turned-munitions manufacturer, these women weren’t just making bullets—they were also making guitars. Specifically, the Kalamazoo Gals made Gibson’s Banner line of guitars, which were later used by musicians like Buddy Holly and Woody Guthrie. ~Atlas Obscura

Dust Bowl Ballads

Listening to the Boss Singing 
The Ghost of Tom Joad,
Imagining the Okies as they
Travelled their Desolation Road.
Word Pictures  by Steinbeck,
Dust Bowl Ballads by Guthrie,
Green Pastures Of Plenty
Pretty Boy Floyd, Doh Ray Mi.

Ecological disaster,
Dust and drought,
Trees chopped down
Good land farmed out.
Then  came the winds
That blew the soil away
Followed by the Bankers
Who took their land away.

Pack up lock stock and barrel
In the trucks and on the way
To the promised land of plenty
The fabled  Californ-ia
So long it’s been good to know you
And then like the family Joad
Driven by need and poverty 
It’s off and on down the road.

With Global warming progressing
As more habitable land disappears
Will  a new Steinbeck and Guthrie 
Chronicle new  Grapes Of Wrath years
Will there  be a new Springsteen 
To sing about a new Tom Joad
As they join the  new exodus on 
Their  new desolation road.

Music Revolutionaries

As a child of the late1940s,
Heard Skiffle, Folk, Rock and Roll
Loved country and the blues
Loved the sound of soul.
Heard, Donegan, Perkins, Presley, 
Make all those blues based hits
Heard Jerry Lee, Buddy, the Bopper  
Guthrie, all those talented young Brits.

Suddenly we had a language, 
A music of our very own,
Criss crossing the Atlantic 
To mix with that home grown.
So many decades later,
My life having moved on,
I still listen to that music but
Most of the heroes are gone

Eyes closed,  glass in hand
I listen at my leisure,
My music may be old but
It gives so much pleasure.
In my mind i see my idols
Strut and own their stage
Many died too young 
That just means they don’t age.

Those very special people
Whose talent will not fade,
I have been so privileged to see
Music history being made.
A musical dinosaur maybe
But I don’t really care.
I heard the music change
And I was lucky to be there.

Grapes of Wrath Revisited

John Steinbeck wrote the story
Of the Okie family Joad as they
Travelled down their bleak 
Hard California bound road.
Tractored out by the Cats
After the bank had foreclosed,
No feelings of welcome as
They’d hoped and supposed.

Woody Guthrie sang the ballads
Of that desparate Dust Bowl
Spoke of the period 
From the heart and soul.
From those depths of despair
Solidarity brought hope
Gave the Okies some comfort
Perhaps helped them to cope.

Were lessons learned
Could it happen over again,
With global warming is it just
A case of not if but when?
Have we learned any charity,
Would we understand the situation,
Or would it sadly be as before
That same old case of exploitation?

Hannibal's Elephant

You can get anywhere you want
On Hannibal's elephant
You can get anywhere you want
On Hannibal's elephant
Climb right up, ride on her back
Take you 'bout a mile down the railroad track
You can get anywhere you want
On Hannibal's elephant.

Bob Dylan Is Great

Bob Dylan is great
And he is real mate

He started out like Woodie Guthrie
But only roughly

He told us the answer was in the wind
He was all so thin

He went electric and creative
It went hectic and stimulative

He was called Judas and booed off stage
The crowds were in a rage

He fell off his motorbike
And things changed again with a strike

He hid in a basement
Curing his ailment

Then he returned to the watchtower
With even more power

He knocked on heaven's door
And he was back to his fore

He split with Sara
And made a movie about a Clara

There was blood on the tracks
But he reached a new climax

He got lost in religion
And hovered around like a pigeon

He took a slow train
And soon started to regain

He became a shooting star
No signs of any scars

Even though the world had gone wrong
He still sang his song

Then came 'Time out of Mind'
Nothing like it of any kind

Lots of things had changed
But in a sense it was just rearranged

Roll on Bob
But watch your fob

Then came the Nobel Prize
For us it was no surprise

Bob Dylan is Great
And bloody real mate

Bob Dylan is great
Bob Dylan is unreal mate

The Quick and the Dead On Tour

I hope to heaven that when I die
I meet Woody Guthrie in the sky
and then upon a dust-bowl cloud
we'll find the grace to sing aloud,
and that the Heavens won't debar
the using of a stringed guitar,
though usually the angel choir
prefers to play  the harp or lyre. 

When Woody asks how things have bin
in the world of strife and sin,
I'll say  spud soup's 'bout just as thin
as  when on earth he  still could  sing.
(Them politicians can see through it
Like a lump of mama's  suet) 

Robbers at home  less often use
the six gun than back then
for they prefer the gentle ruse
and still the fountain pen,
and still the fountain pen. 

Mick Jagger and Bob Dylan,
may join us by and by,
And though they sure are getting on,
may they live long ere they die,
may they live long ere they die. 

And then we'll do an earthbound tour,
in stadium, field or  sewer,
for like Joe Hill we'll return
from grave or tomb or dusty urn
as long as workers claim their right
and songsters yet acclaim their fight.
till everything is globalized
and unions have been pulverized. 

Till then, till then, we'll sing along,
till then we'll sing our song.

The Big Apple

I made a trip to New York
and surely looked like a dork
staring at the sky
scrapery so high
(and sometimes ogled a nork*)

I took a walk to the dock
heard so many kinds of talk
from seething masses
(and some were asses**)
all I could do was just gawk

I went out to Ellis Island
'cause Woodie*** says it is myland
and it is yours too
it just wouldn’t do —
to exclude folks from the high lands

deserts, swamps or wherever.
I think we should endeavor
(since most of us once,
were just immigrants)
to welcome them forever

or give it to first peoples,
tear down our pious steeples.
Stop saying we care
(if it is hot air)
Stop our slaughter of sheeples!

I tend to ramble a lot.
My trip to the melting pot?
Was a WOW I’d say
and maybe one day
I will return at a trot.

Salute to souper Ilene
(a fan of, I’ve always been)
and to that Billy
who is so silly****
They live in that crazy scene!

~~~~
asteriskus explanus:

*aussie slang word (google it)
**not all were asses — overall I found New Yorkers much less rude than I had expected (based on what I’d been told) 
***Guthrie - the folksinger
****According to hisself, souper Sillybilly Thekidster

Purring and Stirring

Purring and Stirring

While my pretty cats had both been purring
Up so much trouble Don Trump was stirring 
For those down and out or no longer hearty
Can go ahead and join the Trumpeteer Party.

Talking about somebody tooting their horn
Does it all day long beginning in early morn
To dead end were led with BS he had said
Could not slide downhill so left sled in shed.

All of his BS were bothered with wallowing in
Each new day growing more did start to begin
Joke is can you imagine anyone sympathizing
With a big batch of loud blasting Trumpetizing.

He was great dodging bullets and being erratic
Not only that sure threw around a lot of static
Then when my ballot to box I began to bring
It did not go down suffering from static cling.

James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
Was tagged and had been it
not Tony. 

https://theconversation.com/woody-guthrie-old-man-trump-and-a-real-estate-empires-racist-foundations-53026

http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2015/11/23/ike-didn-t-like-trump-s-dad-at-all.html

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/woody-guthrie-trump_us_56a18e5ae4b0404eb8f11bb3

Savannah Guthrie Baby To Be

Savannah Guthrie Baby To Be

So many things, I am starting to see;
A mom is best thing you could ever be,
After a handsome man you will marry
And beautiful baby in stomach will carry.

How we have honored the happy news;
Pretty soon baby, we will have many views
Of his or her life making yours so lush;
Now all around things seem so plush.

In heaven you are as well as your head
When looking at lovely baby in bed;
How great my new life will be around me,
Even if I have to end up back on TV.

James Thomas Horn
RiverSea Plantation
Bolivia, NC

PS. Email this to the Today Show for me.

Outlaw Mccurdy

Born in 1880 
to a single mom
back in Maine.
He volunteered
in the army 
after school.
He did many 
robberies 
bank's and trains.
He stayed in Oklahoma 
but broke the law
in other states too.
His gang of jolly
men changed many times.
His demise 
came from train
he went to rob.
Two demijons
and a watch
is all he got.
Asleep in a loft
the city marshall 
and deputies came along.
Minutes pass by
but still alive.
Stinger Fenton got 
the shot that count
that silenced his gun. 
Being embombed 
his body was a side show
for all to see.
In California one day
in the show
being a mannequin
his arm tore
as all were in shock
to see the bone.
McCurdy in a hearse
with gun riders beside
taken to boot hill in Guthrie 
where he lay

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