Long Built up Poems
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There is, in the Los Angeles area, a well-known brand of milk, called Alta Dena. Near also,
is the city named Alta Dena, and my grandson lives there. I asked him if he had seen the dairy there, and he told me that it does not exist. I then asked him if he had seen herds of milk cattle there and he said that he had not, and doubted that there were any. Of course I wondered why the milk had such a name, and jokingly asked him to look for at least one cow in the city, since it was well built-up, and there were no obvious open pastures at all. I told him that we could only conclude that it this had to b a very famous and rare cow that could supply all the milk needed by a large urban dairy, and thus must be insured, protected from the idle public, and secreted in some private home where she would not be disturbed. The whole story and speculation grew into a riotous family "search" for this wondrous animal. I, of course, ask my grandson each week when I see him, for a progress report on the search. Finally, I have decided to turn it into a poem:
A Search Continues
Something very hush-hush is going on
and Alta Dena folk aren't going to tell.
All cowdom secreted within its bovine lair
yet Bo would stare contentedly at us
with no incursive moo directed at the hellish
vine that she must eat, in lieu of meadow grass.
That ever-present cud must still
be masticated; yea, her celebrated udder
must be filled.
Yet none admit to having sighted her.
Beastiana though she be, no Altadenian
will dare so much as low on her behalf,
no bull, Eden-bound, is ready to exchange
his bold, testicular desire
to service mewling ruminants
who merely run away.
Nay, uncowed are they, though cowed they be,
and cowards not--and if you do not see
their wisdom, chalk it up to power,
Bo's mammary magnificence, so easily
in jeopardy before a single squeeze,
not of a nipple but a trigger
thus applied, and speeding out of sight.
Challenge, indeed, our quest to find
this noble and prolific queen
who dominates with graceful quietude
her milky empire slurping quite
without a care, lush liquid destined
not to slosh within her, rather
in those tumescent tummies
ever crying out for more.
Would I betray them for a share?
Of course. Away with those content
to sour the milk of human kindness
with deception. Let the search go on!
~
‘Twas way back in them days
when the ranch owner’s ways
was just about the only law there was around
Rancher’s money was king
and gun violence reigned
till marshal Ben Miller made his way into town
Well that town was real rough
till Ben said ‘twas enough
that’s when he used his guns to bring law to the street
But there's always that one
thinks he's fast with his gun
would soon find himself face down covered with a sheet
For the next twenty years
Ben had kept the streets clear
of any no-gooders that might drift into town
Then folks started to say
Ben was showing some gray
maybe his old age had started to slow him down
The councilmen all met
said it is with regret
that we tell you it's time for you to settle down
They baked him a nice cake
a few speeches they'd make
and introduced him to the new marshal in town
Town folk gathered and cheered
told him how twenty years
was a long time to stay on this side of the grave
Ben took a look around
rode his horse outta town
with his new gold watch and the few dollars he'd saved
That is often the way
a cowboy's life got played
long ago when the country was still just a pup
When a trusted hired hand
gave his life for the brand
honest and loyal was the way he was raised up
If you think this is sad
or Ben's life turned out bad
well then this might be a little good news for you
Was the very next week
Men lay dead in the street
they had robbed the bank and stole the mayor's horse too
When they tried to get Ben
to come marshal again
sure don't take no book smarts to know how he replied
Well, he asked widow Jones
if she'd like to go along
and off to the wide open Montana they'd ride
Was a day in March when
Jasmine married old Ben
Though they had only been courtin' about a year
Said they was gonna go
where the tall grasses grow
gonna try their hand raisin a few cows and steers
Well they made it alright
through frozen winter nights
mostly cause they hadn't built up much of a herd
When the next spring turned mild
it brought both calves and child
after that first year their ranchin' blood had been stirred
It’s been thirty years since
granpap left Defiance
now I stop alongside his grave near' every day
I watch over his spread
more than five thousand head
as they grow fat right here on the Rockin’ Bar J
Everyday, I wake up wondering if the moon will shine or the stars will find a clear path to explore the other side of the universe. Every day, I wake up wondering if the sun will raise, and the moon will continue to walk by your side.
They sit up all night with an axe and a bible by their side and gun pointing to the east figuring out the next step to deceive the beast. A toxic feeling is going around and it makes me want to vomit on the ground.
Just as you think everything is going well, someone around the corner wants to drag you down in hell and suddenly the lights start growing dim and a strange energy surrounds the place. It built up an uncomfortable feeling in my chest and leaves me gasping for breath.
It circulates my entire body and it left me scrambling for an hour; if I had a better pair of shoe and enough money for the ride, I would walk out at this very moment without looking to the left or the right.
Every day I get up with a positive feelings, with new cells bursting in my anonymity and the forces of nature guiding me and the universe watching over me.
I am organized and ready to go but there is always something unpleasant to barge in the middle of the show, it is not a nice feelings it is painful and revealing and sometimes challenging .I have no control over what is happening around me some people are known for creating controversy and it leaves them hanging upside down in the pot.
See them sitting over there, fighting for that big dirty golden chair, the speechless ones, the quiet one, and big mouth one with voices thundering beneath the roof and big foot shaking the ground without a penny or a crown. You who are fighting for the chair will be left cold empty and bare, the sun will burn your behind and water will flood your cemetery until you do what is right.
It’s like you are waiting for that special song to sing but something
is always changing the rhythm and sometimes you don’t know whose song to sing, and the music keeps playing without a sound and it keeps dragging you towards the unknown.
I have had days like this when, I just feel like moving to another place to breath fresh air, to meet new people and write new music. Germany, France, Italy or Switzerland would be fun but I don’t know how to use a gun so I will stick to Asia because the journey is longer and it is safer.
The generous character-carried-by them good-old-girls-and boys down-home country-copper-
roof-all filled-up-silos-wheat-turbines waiting ready outside the barn deer-skins pegged down
low the greater-story askant-of curiosity carrying the pureness of a child as to why... .
Smoked-up hickory-honey-bubbling bacon saged-up getta-gingerly-popping in the grease in
the skillets over the steadily-flaming-logs and-built-up-kindling ... .
Humbly growing up little farm-houses-rock streams-made by-the freedom-of-the-patient
hand-Bibles-on the-table in every-dwelling-place blessings of praise-that really gooey gooey
fudge-brewing slow... so-slow.
Cooked-up-apple and peach a plethora of assortments of berry pies cooling their lively smells
lifting up-and-drifting-about the grassy timber woods and hills in every available-window-sill
home made-ice-cream sweet-taffy-candy-moonlit-walks-with a real good friend-crawdad
hunting with my-Pa and Uncles cousins and Brother Sisters-Grand-Pa... . Stars parading along
on by with the sky's Moon-hovering-above casting the morning-stars-gentle, and-somewhat-
kinder reflection on-the-slumbering-land of crawler's... .
Our flashlights lights perusing cast-all-about searching-for-them... junker autos rumbling and
rolling off one distant-street-corner-easy childhood-days-rising up to greet-you laying-down
weighing in the balance-as the tender moments... ease-on-by.
Time my only vestige welcomed salvation, greater my safety-grace happily promenades-
about-the fringe-of the-day... . They ride-their-way-along-enchanted carried along churning
away-by the glimmering-crystal-streams motivated by-the-chipper woodland-winds... . My
faith, in-its relevance, emancipates.
Fragile, honest... willing... no time for resentment-innocence runs free now merrily skipping
with me across the meadow.
Gracious time the noble gesture freedom the-patient-journey-sown-of-humble yes the
truest divinity as patient-just yes-the devotion for all-through grace-made-open-my hope
remains willing-white cotton clouds captured in their lea way dancing two and fro remind
me even-more so... .
"Kill them with the virtues' of kindness" as my Father always said.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x6rYPHmSzcE&feature=related
The sky drips fluorescent pink
as i cry from the lack of oxygen
My tears trickle down my cheek.
for no reason yet again
My pain is oozing from my mouth though my lips are tightly shut.
For I have built a world inside my mind and now i am stuck
I cannot calculate the peace I feel I'm owed. I can only hope that it comes to me.
I've worked so hard and lost so much,
though I've only happened to gain a halfhearted peace.
No full love, no real desire, never real free
Had I not cried and screamed.
Had I listened to myself.
had I acknowledged the indifference.
had I pleaded for help.
Though I didn't plead because I knew no one could help.
I knew no one Would release me from this hell.
So, I found it.
I found an escape.
I found a way to become one with myself.
I’ve built a world within my mind for no one but me.
I’ve tore away from my predetermined plight.
I’ve allowed myself to be free.
From my life and the responsibilities nailed onto me
For i shouldn't have to shoulder yesterday's stress
I shall never hope for tomorrow's peace, for I will use tomorrow to rest.
To rest MY mind MY hearts and MY eyes
I built a world where there is no rush.
a world where there is no need to disguise.
MY pain that I have shouldered because no more will arise.
For I have built a world that will rid me of pain and insecurities.
Tho I Will express MY pain proudly because my experiences are what allow me to breathe
But my world did in fact the opposite
My world sheltered me from the truth.
My world allowed me peace through my pain.
My world allowed me to settle.
For you and your callous spirit
Your ruthless words, and though my world bandaged my scars.
No amount of savior from my world
Can heal what you’ve done to my heart.
I’ve built a world for my desires and hopes.
I’ve built up walls to allow me to cope.
With yesterday's tears, fears and neglect
though the pain still flows from my heart to the mind with every breath
I built a world where oceans sing Melodies.
Where everything plays its part
where there is no pain, no insecurities.
Yet pain still remains in my heart.
I built a world, a damaged world within my dreams and I cannot wake up.
I built a world with hopes of peace.
but still lay heartbroken and stuck
"What were you doing around here," I said.
"Don't you know what happens to men who are
Caught by my huntresses?"
The man built up his courage and stood up
His eyes traveling the course of my body.
My body would not be used to pleasure him so,
I swiftly punched him in his jaw.
My renewed strength was a blessing
For it sent the man flying back to the ground.
I murmured a thanks to Zeus for clear skies this night.
"O beautiful Artemis," he quickly said. "I only had one wish,
That was to be able to see you in your glory.
Though it may cost me my life; It was well worth the price."
His prattle scratched at my nerves.
"You stupid man," I said to him.
"I will spare your life for it will not be I who kills you."
I snapped my fingers and the man was transformed into a Weasel.
His new body let out a human-like squeak of surprise.
I held my hand out and my spear came soaring
Through the air straight into the palm of my hand.
The spear head began sparking and I grinned joyously
As the weasel began to try to escape
From the circle my huntresses had formed around him.
"It is quite obvious that you thought I would spare your life so,
You could go back to your friends and tell tales about surviving me.
For that, your death shall be one of humiliation
Without any degrees of honor. Dishonor shall be placed on your family."
All of my huntresses began summoning their spears
And the weasel began to dance around the circle agitated.
Taking turns, the girls began stabbing at the weasel.
Occasionally, they would scratch the worthless animal.
My heart swelled with pride as one of my girls
Finally managed to spear the weasel.
She lifted her spear into the air, holding the carcass up
For all to see. The girls roared in applause.
My heart felt huge in my chest
As I watched the girl's sisterhood bond.
They and the moon were all that I would ever need.
The girls dropped the carcass to the side of the field
And they began to head back to our camp.
Once they were gone, I looked up at the moon
as the light swirled back around me like a good bye.
And so the sun came up and I retired to the camp
The girls had set up for us to wait out day,
Before we could travel again
Under the peaceful darkness of the night
With the light of my mighty moon.
Go Ahead, Take a Chance and read it to the end:
Thirty years from now how would we look?
If only there was a way to look it up in a book.
I thought about it as I saw you standing there
You had an imposing look, an indignant air.
My friend nudged me forward to take a chance
Were you really what I had been looking for?
Or was I, as usual, looking for so much more?
All the questions were raised within my mind
As I studied your features to see what I’d find.
My friend nudged me again, “Give it a chance!”
I knew if this worked I’d owe her a big debt
And I wondered if I should take this big step.
I studied you once again from top to bottom
Looking for problems I could run away from.
I wondered if you were worth taking a chance.
Of course I would show you off to Christine,
I knew my best friend’s face would turn green.
She’d say, “Where were you when I needed you?”
She’d look annoyed, and I knew that it was true
And that she wouldn’t have given up this chance
I was surprised to see you were so much older
I thought to myself, or was I so much younger?
Would age really matter between you and me?
Neither of us was as young as we used to be.
I studied you again, should I take this chance?
Would we both look the same as we grow older?
Will I lean upon you then with my tired shoulder?
I smiled at you shyly and then looked around us.
My friend nudged me, saying, “What’s the fuss?
You’re not getting any younger, take the chance.”
I closed my eyes, wondering if this was meant to be
And would you, looking so solitary, open up to me?
Would I be able to get past all your built up walls?
And when I’m gone all day because my work calls
Would you be glad that I’d finally taken a chance?
Looking at you, I thought about a cold winter’s day
When the weather outside is all stormy and gray
And I’d shiver and think about turning the heat on
I knew you would warm me from dusk until dawn.
Then, I finally knew you really were worth the chance.
I shook my head out of my reverie and smiled again.
And I turned, looking at you and then my good friend,
“I think you can say this one is sold finally.”
We hugged and she nailed on the sign carefully:
“Last Chance Realty Company, Why Not Take a Chance?”
SOLD
As a young man I was not very smart,
for brain cells they were never my game,
but I did what I could for without any doubt
through hard work I had ample to gain.
The cleverer folk seemed to learn things with ease
while I had to struggle indeed.
My memory it seemed so pathetic at times
that I had to replant every seed.
But working things out just came normal to me
and this is what carried me through.
Instead of just knowing the things I'd been told
I'd learn what the reason was too!
My total approach was directed by this
for to seek was the way I would gain.
It just didn't sink in what they meant me to know,
though I found it myself with some pain.
So the things I know now are unique to me
bought with searching, acceptance and time.
I know that my views are the bricks of my mind,
foundations built up in my prime.
But the things that I feel are the sounds in my soul,
they're the voices that all play their part.
No knowledge or learning can wash them away
for these things are entrenched in my heart.
A bond strong indeed to all mankind’s seed
where my being is mingled with soul,
the place I must go when my God makes it so
for it’s there, that I have my prime role.
Sometimes to share in everyone's care
but at times just to offer my hand
or to help someone there to release the despair
that they found as they entered this land.
Sometimes just a word is still needed here
to convince folk that death's not the end.
A few personal thoughts shared only by them
to prove they’ve still bonds with their friends.
At times evil people who never were nice
will cause people harm though the veil
and if not deterred from their mischievous ways
leave hate and despair in their trail.
It’s then that my strength is assisted by God
in fighting his cause with my mind,
for closing the pathways to evil‘s intent
takes an army of goodness combined.
No master's degree that I never would gain
could help bridge the path to the soul,
but the voices inside that you feel with your heart
Is the way that lead straight to the 'whole'.
So be not afraid of those who would scoff
then denounce you and chuckle with mirth,
let them proclaim that it's all in your mind,
for it is…. and it's been there since birth.
Ivor G Davies
...By now Carmena’s anger had built up,
and she glared searing flames at her ‘friend,’
said,”You shut you damn mouth and listen close,
everything you just said does offend.
“You think that my skin is what determines
the direction and care of my thoughts?
That certain opinions I cannot share?
Spoken like a well-and-true bigot!
“You’d reduce me to a function of a group,
take away all of my sovereignty,
deny my agency and my freedom,
deny every choice that makes me me.
“Do you not comprehend your own birth-right,
that I never knew until I moved here?
That you have the choice to build your own life,
be it normal, or crazy, or weird?
“Are you evil enough to deny that
to me over meaningless pigment?
Try to bully me with race-baiting crap,
you and your kind can all go get bent!
“And as for calling me a ‘Hispanic,’
as if that was important to say,
go get your facts straight, I’m American,
the kind the does not hyphenate!
“My family wouldn’t have come this far
if they didn’t mean to join in the club
of free people living by their own will,
that is what I am and it’s enough!
“I don’t like your illegal aliens,
or the way you want to control speech.
I’ve seen socialism fail first-hand,
I hate the tyranny of P.C!
“And if I haven’t made it clear enough,
if you haven’t figured out my gist,
for trying to put me inside a box
I will never vote for a leftist!”
She stormed away before Sue could even
work up the nerve again to talk.
She assumed they weren’t friends anymore,
but in truth it was not that great a loss.
Later that night she was browsing online
when she saw Sue’s social media feed,
full of hard smears, distortions of her words,
the kind that make an honest person seethe.
When Carmena pointed out Sue’s bald-faced lies
it was she who received the attacks!
But instead of cowering she doubled down,
against this evil she would not turn her back.
And though it did cost her relationships,
she was not one who could run from a fight.
All the years and the toil were for nothing
if she could not speak of what she though was right.
She would not be skin, or a face in the crowd,
no matter what the price was in the end.
She would be what she chose, or be not at all,
she was Carmena the American.
When I was just a little boy
we picnicked under alpine skies,
one time a mule deer strolled out
and fed in the meadow nearby.
Tall, curving antlers rising up
from a regal, tan-grey head
“The finest buck I’ve ever seen,”
were the words my father said.
Then I noticed something moving,
a tawny shape slinked through trees,
suddenly my father leapt on up
and put himself in front of me.
But it wasn’t me in danger,
though the cougar inspired fear,
that stealthy cat had yellow eyes
fixed upon the stately deer.
“Get on out of here!”Dad shouted,
and the deer froze in alarm,
out bounded the great cougar,
In one leap moving so far.
Then the buck, he startled,
In a stott he flew away,
for a few frantic moments
the cougar, he gave chase!
But cougars are cast as sprinters,
not built for marathons,
in seconds the cat gave up
and the buck kept running on.
That’s what I remembered
as a boy of only four,
though when I did grow older
I remembered something more...
I could recall the flashing teeth
plunging into the deer’s neck,
I could recall my mother screaming,
my dad shouting,”Get back!”
I remember seeing the cougar
stare back and snarl at us,
and I remember leaving quickly,
my dad picking me up.
I suppose that my young mind
had to block out what I’d seen,
far too young to deal with it
I started misremembering.
A strong defense mechanism
built up by the conscious mind,
but the subconscious saw it all,
and waited patiently for its time.
It reappeared at twelve years old,
the truth my youth blocked out.
It had an effect, a serious one,
it filled my head with doubts.
How could such violence coexist
with a world of such beauty?
And if that proud deer went down,
what awaited a budding teen?
Pondering such for long hours
did not make me popular,
yet the more I blocked it,
the more uncertainty stirred.
I kept asking those deep questions
about power, evil, and will,
unaware that they’d stymied
minds of far better skill.
To this day I have no answers,
though asking was good for me,
turned pondering into a job
writing pop philosophy.
All of it traced to that day,
my first brush with mortal fear,
when I learned Earth is the type of place
where the cougar eats the deer.