Long Cougars Poems
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He'd come west back in forty-nine,
three long years had passed since that time,
and still he mucked 'bout rivers cold,
with pan and shovel, seeking gold.
Fa away from Sutter's Mill,
he'd staked a claim below this hill,
a bit far from the beaten track,
the others said that brains he lacked.
But he continued at his task,
the well-known streams had gone bust fast,
so he'd chosen to go afar,
out here with cougars, grizzlly bars.
They saw honest work hurts no man,
so he shovelled dirt in the pan,
and when he found no golden gleam
methodically he moved up stream.
The sun was up, it was near noon,
the heat of it could cause a swoon,
he though it time to stop for lunch,
but kept going, he had a hunch.
So he shoveled in some more dirt,
with stream water began to work,
mud washed away, and he did find
six flakes that brightly yellow shined.
Like that all thought of food was gone,
the prospector dug on and on,
he did not tire, he did not flag,
thirty flakes soon in his poke bag.
When the sun started getting low
he took his shovel, gear to stow,
planning to head back to his camp,
when from the woods out stepped a tramp.
His clothes were rough, his face unshaven,
he features vicious, young of ago,
a hardened man, raw-boned and tall,
held a revolver, cap-and-ball.
“All that gold that you found today...
take that poke bag, toss it this way--”
Then silenced by a mighty blow,
the shovel had been swiftly thrown!
The 49er, frantically,
has struck and knocked out half his teeth!
The tramp fell right there to the ground,
as prospector's boot heel rained down.
First came a sickening cry,
then muffled screams as the tramp died,
the 49er soon collapsed,
his panicked breath still coming fast.
He took the time to wipe back tears,
his reason burning through the fear,
he had been well within his rights,
but still...he'd killed a man this night.
He rolled the corpse into the flow,
the current took it far below.
Tossed all that night, he couldn't sleep,
thinking on life, twas so damn cheap.
That one would kill you for a rock...
but in the end, when he took stock,
when did life not bring with it pain?
He would stay and defend his claim.
She walks in to the disco
Feeling pretty hot
Glances from the others
Tell her that she’s not.
Killer heels do just that
Lips a cupid bow
Drops her Prada handbag
Wrinkles start to show.
Downs a quick Bacardi
Drinking makes her bold
Confidence is growing
Away from her cuckold.
Geezers in the corner
Laugh into their pints
Quick one round the back
Better than a fight.
Twenty each, bet is on,
First one out the door
Get another round in
Won’t take long for sure.
Lads all start to cheer him
Barely heard above the beat
Sweat pours down his forehead
Glass beneath his feet.
Heads off to the ladies
Startled by harsh light
Best friend at her side
Two cougars in the night.
She looks into a mirror
Mascara down her cheeks
Wipes her eyes, full of doubt
The company she seeks.
Another bottled Breezer
The pain will go away
Think about tonight
How to make him pay.
First attempt, chat her up
Give out some on blarney
Flashy car, lots of cash,
Time spent in the Army.
Down in one, more to drink
Atmosphere is cool
Muscle flex, turns her nose
Starts to feel a fool.
Offers her a lift home
Does she want a ride
Drop off by the station
Should she keep her pride.
Love bite on the shoulder
Hopes it can’t be seen
Stomach churns with sickness
How stupid she has been.
Gets home Sunday morning
Feeling really cheap
Clock shows 4 am
Really needs to sleep.
Old man in drunken stupor
Whisky glass beside
Slithers into bed
Sleep is where she hides.
Later in the day
She’ll be chatting on the phone
Talking of the weekend
How she was not alone.
Was it really worth it
It doesn’t solve a thing
Bitter clouds descend
Floor begins to spin.
On the other side of town
Down another street
A wife is full of tears
Her husband is a cheat.
Lions, tigers and bears alarm me, no-brainer!
Zookeepers seem to like them and circus trainers.
Some blokes put gray in your hair - like Freddy Krueger
but strokes are not funny, I panic 'round cougars.
Pythons, parrots and apes distress me, no-brainer
Crocodile Dundee was just an entertainer.
Trees are traps and leopards lie perfectly still there,
they'll permanently jeopardize lots more than hair.
Gray wolves, foxes and deer upset me, no-brainer
Forest rangers take care and jungle campaigners.
Locks don't stop gorillas, stray geese or grizzlies
merely seeing them turns my locks to frizzlies.
Toadfrogs, lizards and hares concern me, no-brainer.
Steve Irwin, I am not, should I make it plainer?
Lions, tigers and bears make me sweat unaware,
wild animal beasties leave me pulling my hair.
Today's racist is not your hate racist of the past.
Today's racist are just ignorant people, both good and bad.
Most see humanity,
as akin to the feline family.
There are lions and tigers, cougars and bobcats,
jaguars, leopards, cheetahs and house cats.
The cat family is an array of a great variety of sub species,
but a common ancestor among all can clearly be seen,
and that's how most see humanity.
All races are seen
as human sub species,
who all share a common ancestor that branched off into a great variety,
of "races", the human term for "sub species".
Let me set the record straight.
There Is No Such Thing As Race.
There is more genetic variation among a group of chimpanzees,
than there is in all of humanity.
All of us share the same common ancestor globally.
We are all directly connected genetically.
In truth we are one big worldwide dysfunctional family.
Race Does Not Exist, it is a falsity,
and this has been proved scientifically.
Today's racist is plain and simply this;
Today's racist is anyone who still believes that race does exist.
"Nog slurpers"
He said his new female freind was considered a cougar.
She was much older than he was. They debated two terms in conversation
she dated one fella 14 years her junior while being 44, he was 30.
Minerva told Aphrodite that after there frill she would seek a man to marry might he wish to procreate Ishall lead him to a divine repository for seamen. We knew what she really said. Some how she'd find a way to distort the reality might a future of sea fearing women rejoice at the defeat of the human man.
Minerva father him whose features were more like his then his own brother. She hated the fact that these men had something to say. She then divided from him to cosort with another. And two she spoke so that the women would stand before the Sperm Repository to watch the folk come and go. I heard a Baritone speak to a flutist they begged one another for respect. each skill had lacked proper respect it became there reason for togetherness. I caused him to be disrespected she said, might he never wished to be with me, am I hopeless or frightening: hinting at devine planning for future saviors. My body shall become the cosmic storage of life essence, then he shall be drained from the pour's of the clouds. Extorted as he is a man! Yes you eligible she spoke to on coming men as they walked by, yes you too are eligible.
From the Book
"Puta de Bad Omen"
by Didgy Dheeze
leader of the Lain-Lian Music Group
" The Band from Fair Crest'
Published ubdr
'tang and ghee and turkey"
Rice and Noodles
staccato....................................................
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A myth about pumas and cougars standing out in front of mines
when motherlodes have been found.
the men there want love and pussy.
Lincoln never imagined
today’s white victim zeitgeist,
pouting persecuted supremacists,
their clenched jaws and fists.
Civil war rages in limbic memory.
Encoded somewhere,
the panic attacks and mirages.
Nobody is qualified because everybody is responsible.
So many whites have graduated from the struggle,
showcasing their diploma from the mill.
Lincoln never imagined
modern virtual vitriol,
merciless memes lashing out at specters,
infusing, inciting depravity among the sleep deprived.
These words are battleships aimed at the reviled.
The unshielded summon civility.
They beckon familiar principles.
But rabid cougars wait in hiding, eager to pounce.
All the feeble markets for platitudes have failed,
as subliminal cavities endure each generation.
Mental lynch mobs, rebel flags, supremacy’s utopia.
Lincoln never imagined
a 21st century cartoon president,
a white nationalist clicking social network epithets,
a whining overgrown tormenter
with a cult of Stalinist believers.
Where are the intelligible?
How is all this animated fury converted?
What is the lesson plan?
Who will bury the code?
How long this agonizing journey into normality?
Lincoln never imagined.
Published Tuck Magazine 04/ 2019
Dreams of the Shaman
David J Walker
It was the Prairie version of Eden
In the evening light
Awaiting the day exposing the
Cover of Buffalo Grass
Its flag-like banners of male flower
Flying in the morning dew
Guarding the female blooms
Hidden amongst the leaves
Rounded and burr-like but not spiny
The fauna is dense but unseen
Prairie Dogs bark out warnings to the
Burrowing Owls competing with foxes
hunting field mice
Cougars patrol the canyons for
Passing Elk following the water
Wolves stalk Bison
Claiming the lame,
the young, and the old
Tens of thousands of Sunrise pass
Before Adam arrives with his Eve
Abiding in the canyons of Artesian Springs
Living in harmony off the land
Awaiting the changes in the
Dreams of the shaman
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.
Her fire and slippers call her ever more
The cougar still takes to the dance floor.
The cubs she tries now to entice
Turn and ask her “What's her price?”
Bedecked bejeweled, her senses honed
But sipping vodka shots, still all alone.
The cougar losing her matriarchal hold
Younger cougars compete ever more bold.
Her latest prey so good, she wanted more
Turned in the bed, heard the click of the door.
A tap on the shoulder an aging man stands there
Wrinkled eyes, spare tyre, and thinning hair.
He says he’s watched her for a while
He knows he not quite her style.
Would she partake of a drink with him?
Her eyes wander to the cubs so slim.
Her hem length lengthens, her cleavage covered
The dance floors too loud, she feels smothered,
They now sit in a quite calm restaurant
Holding hands, this is what she wants.
Her cougar days are now ever gone
She has lit the fire with a special one.
Her stiletto shoes gone, they no more make her wince
She kissed the aging man, he turned into her prince.
© ~GG~24/11/2012
All aboard the zoo train, let's ride there
Be amazed when you see the mighty bear
Cougars, big cats, crouch inside their lair
Desert tortoises creep, they move so slow
Eagles perch and stare from branches, low
Foxes peer out from within their dens
Great giraffes gawk, their necks extend
Hyenas laugh as they run and play
Iguanas lie and bask in the sun all day
Jaguar is regal, as she paces in her stall
Kangaroos nibble on leaves near a wall
Lions pace, the kings of the jungle
Meerkats hide in small holes and tunnels
Now we can view those amusing apes
Orangutans with their funny faces
Past the fountain, we see the polar bear
Quite a sight, as he swims over there
'Round the bend, we enter reptile land
Snakes that slither over rocks and sand
Tribal music sets the stage to see
Up high, as we look into the banyon trees
Vociferous squawks from bright toucans
Wild echos reverberate over the land
Xanadu dreams, on this enchanting day
You feel you've traveled miles away
Zoo magic memories were made today.
Updated on 5/18/2022
Written on 7/11/2015