Long Herd Poems
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‘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
Ladies and gentlemen,
Let’s take a moment to reflect on what happened in Venezuela. In the blink of an eye, everyone became a **multimillionaire**—not because the economy was thriving, but because hyperinflation piled up so much worthless money, people could barely carry it. Piles of cash with no real value. It’s a harsh reminder that money itself is not an asset if it can be manipulated to the point of collapse.
So, **where do you put your money?** This is the burning question in today’s uncertain economic climate. We’ve seen trillions wiped out of the stock market, and people are starting to worry. With central banks printing money and stock markets artificially inflated, where do you go to preserve your wealth? What is truly an **asset**?
An asset is something that holds value over time. But to understand how long your asset will last, you need to know two things: its value and the cost to maintain it. The reality is, if you’re holding onto an asset that requires too much upkeep, or worse—its value is tied to a depreciating currency—its lifespan will be cut short.
**Look at what’s happening right now.** The stock market, once soaring, is starting to falter. The markets are high, but we all know the **Feds** are coming. The next **FOMC** meeting will likely bring changes, and many are anticipating interest rates to be cut. We’ve already seen **50 bps points** pinned from previous CPI data, but the big question remains—what’s going to happen with rising geopolitical tensions in the **Middle East**, upcoming elections, and Japan’s interest rates, which have been low for so long?
This brings me to a crucial point: the **acquisition of the right assets.** In uncertain times like these, it’s not about following the herd into the stock market or real estate. It’s about finding assets that will **survive and thrive**. And I believe we’re going to start seeing a shift. We might witness **America considering Bitcoin** as a part of its reserve. Think about it: decentralized, free from the manipulation of central banks, and capped in supply.
Ladies and gentlemen, as we navigate this economic landscape, remember: **it’s not about chasing inflated markets or relying on printed money**. It’s about securing assets that have true value and can withstand the tests of time and turmoil. The future belongs to those who understand this fundamental truth.
Form:
"mathew" 6: 12-13
“and forgive us our debts”
(not only does a sheep get 3 squares a day,
but it is also believed that if one begs the
sky enough, one’s problems will just
wash away---this is to be the subsequent
consequence of ALL humans following
suit & getting down on four legs, growing
their thick coats & chewing grass)
“as we forgive our debtors”
(as the sheep thinking that their problems
are solved by an imaginary listener in
an imaginary trailer park in the sky,
so do the sheep continue grazing with a
sort of “live and let live” mentality,
until they are picked off by hunters)
“and do not lead us into temptation”
(so, the same imaginary listener who resides
in that imaginary trailer park, who seemed
to be the one that all the sheep were
comfortably baaaaa-ing to, now is
something to be feared as well? perhaps
that which one feels the need to submit
the whole of their will to is the same
corrupted core inside that would come up
with such a ridiculous hoax to begin with,
as found in the schizophrenic comment
here in the command to oneself (a baaaaa
into the mirror, if you will)
“but deliver us from the evil one”
(the EVIL ONE? is not the concept of
evil just that which goes against the
simultaneous baaaaa of the herd in the
grassy field? was not the GOOD ONE
just told in the last line to “not lead us
into temptation,” thereby being the only
“one” which can do so? make sure when
getting the ladle of kool-aid dumped into
your dixie cup, that you ask if said
dumper is EVIL or GOOD…certainly at
that point it will make all the difference in
the world)
“for yours is the kingdom and the power
and the glory forever”
(there is no other imaginary listener, whose
two-faced multiple personalities, residing in
an imaginary trailer park in the sky, handing
out its ladles of kool-aid, whose overwhelming
passion could be heard any louder than that
which dwells within the very heads of the
already brainwashed sheep baaaaa-ing out
the rest of their days, dissatisfied with the
actual physical world around them &
waiting for the end of what they deem as
a great big thorn in their side---that is,
the rest of us who are not convinced, and
who are not baaaaa-ing with the rest of
em’)
“amen”
(right there, in a nutshell, the whole lie
itself was conjured up by “a man,” or
a few men---all who had way too much
time on their hands & a rather limited
imagination).
Run Bacon run, the sound come echoing from the gun, run bacon run there is nothing to fear hold on to the third and the fifth gear. The oil is in the hip, grease your joints before you take that dip.
Meringue and carhop is no match for the crown. His body is on fire, and his passion is rolling with desire. The cow is on heat and the miracle is underneath my feet. He is running around in the sty so come catch the bull before it dies; the herd is waiting at the crossing with guitar and drums getting ready for that final home run.
Run bacon run, tie up your belly and run, take off your socks and shoes and anchor your feet in the ground before the mid-day news. Take up your baggage and run before you hear the final gun.
They are no match for your ingenuity, your originality and your brevity the crowd is pressing on with courage, ambition and perseverance but the dictator is hiding in the room and you have to remove him before noon.
Run bacon run the race is not yet done, this weekend promises to be fun if you stay in your lane and follow your gut feeling. You have got to know how to roll the dice and you got to know how to run on ice, you must keep your feet firm on the ground and follow the beam on the screen.
Run bacon run, you have three more laps before it’s done, the universe is watching you, and the crowd is patronizing you.Run bacon run, and take control of the track, the president and prime-ministers are in the stands, they are tossing money and playing lot, and way up in the gallery the Saudi dignitaries are getting jittery and the referees are moving around the field taking notes and observing the “goats”. They have thrown a lot of money in this race and anxiety is swelling in their face but they were not in a hurry, for the estimated glory.
Beacon is turning the corner and the crowd is roaring louder, bacon is getting is on the home stretch and it is pulling away in depth. The eastern stand is on fire and it is dancing with pleasure while the northern stand is cruising with the breeze and water is dripping from their knees, they are also on fire.
The western stand is burning with desire and the bacon has just crossed the finishing line in a striking distance of more than fifty meters. I have got to take the bacon home to cool down this internal fire, and give the niceties their final desire.
Run Beacon run!
The human being
(also referred throughout history
as 'long pig' and 'hairless goat'
in the case of younger specimens)
Observing the anatomy and skeleton,
one can see that the human animal
after death young tender meat.
The large central pelvis and broad shoulder blades
also interfere with achieving perfect cuts.
There are advantages to this however,
especially due to the fact that the specimen girl
will weigh between 100-200 pounds,
easily manipulated by one man with proper leverage.
Controlled environments like institutions or jails before.
Health and diet to outward appearances maintained.
Humans are not very kind to the dead here it is why you are.
You are an unknown to me
thus subject to an enormous range of diseases,
infections, chemical imbalances,
and poisonous bad habits, all typically decreasing with age.
I personally prefer calm firm caucasian females
in their early teens.
These are 'ripe'.
But the saw varies from cut to cut,
and again there it is a very large herd to choose from.
The M.E.)
Medical Examiner will need a fairly large room and sufficient space
in which to work (an interior location is suggested)
and a large table for a butcher's block.
A central overhead support will need to be chosen
or installed ahead of time to hang the young body from.
Large tubs or barrels for blood
and waste trimmings should be convenient,
and a water source close by.
Most of the work can be done with a few simple tools.
Sharp, clean short and long bladed knives,
a cleaver or hatchet, and a hacksaw and ribspreaders.
Body Preparation requires plenty of water.
This helps flush the system,
purging stored toxins and bodily wastes,
as well as making bleeding and cleaning easier.
This one I will call Jane doe 007
was found at a bar stunned into insensitivity.
Sharp unexpected blows to the head put her at rest
quite is best, tranquilizers being recommended
If this is not possible without exciting the body
and causing a longer struggle (which then pumps
a greater volume of blood
and secretions such as adrenaline throughout the body
A single bullet through the middle of the forehead
exiting the back of the skull here did nice.
For what ever reason her companion is here right beside her.
Is is called murder suicide I think it is two suicides.
Whom ever goes last gets the cellophane wrap.
Have they heard
The flutter of bright wings
The birds are too scared to sing
All the crumbles
Of leaves on the trees
When it’s not fall has everyone wondering
Why is the world deciding to fall
Why are there many wings at every call
Why is all greenery dead as can be
It could only be one thing
The poison butterflies
Gliding through the skies
Finding what it takes to survive
The poison butterflies
Using the supply
Planning to do so much damage in so little time
Those poison butterflies
Have they heard
The crops are all dying
The children are crying
No matter the place
Mothers say
“My dears please don’t worry
We might not last long anyway”
Why is the world deciding to fall
Why won’t the leaders do anything at all
Why are people so blind to the beauty
It could only be one thing
The poison butterflies
Conquering the skies
Doing what it takes to survive
The poison butterflies
Staining the supply
Ready to do so much damage in so little time
Those poison butterflies
No one is safe from the terror of wings
Having more power than a thousand stings
Appearing so pretty but doing much harm
Escaping without any threat and alarm
Beware of the butterflies taking the skies
Close all the windows and leave places where they lie
They fly on flowers to ruin their core
Their contact on common folk bruises and spores
Everything’s died to the poison butterflies
Nothing left for the poison butterflies
The poison butterflies
Conquered the skies
Did what it took to survive
The poison butterflies
Spoiled the supply
Learned how to do so much damage in so little time
Those poison butterflies
Have they heard
The butterflies rule everything
Treat them like the most fearful of kings
Mothers say
“Dears, the world’s not as you know it
But we’ll have to learn that it is okay.”
When life as one knows it
Will be shattered and broken
It could be unspoken
To forget all the tokens
When nature conspires
People are not wired
To gather all that’s ruined and start their own fire
A entirely submissive herd
With so much to learn
But no time remains
They are all stuck in pain
Too afraid of what they could burn
So now and forever
The world is in the reign of those who
Knew how to fly
Conquered the skies
Did all they could to destroy earth in so little time
Those poison butterflies
So once again, with grim countenance, the ship sailed on with all bemoaning their woes
Till calm seas prevailed, with balmy sun, sweet zephyr song, they came to Helios' shores.
Helios, calm god of the day, smiled upon the lads, gave of his land free rein, but with a caveat-
Helios pride was his golden herd, indolent and fat,"Do what you will, but don't touch that"
Well, as was their wont, like a terrible refrain, full-weathered from woes and want, but yet unwise,
The crew, overcome by gluttonous greed, slaughtered a heifer, for raucous feast, not sacrifice.
Wild was Helios at this blatant deceit, with terrible curse, banished them all, to wander once again.
So with Helios' curse (and Neptune's help), the ship was tossed and soon lost, all crew were slain.
It was Odysseus alone who was alive, afloat on flotsam, floating about, with fervent wish of death
But sweet surcease was not his lot, more plight was his fate - his tryst was due with Charybdis yet.
Perhaps Scylla was a better bet, in it's slavering jaws a definite death, I think he'd rather have it
But caught he was in Charybdis' thrall, a vortex which ate him whole, and threw him out as spit.
Past the maelstrom's outer whirl was our hero tossed clinging to life's last hope, verily a straw
Floated, the wasted carricature of a man, denied of food and water, no sustenance he could draw.
But perchance the Gods smiled on him, wearied of their devious, puerile games going too long
Odysseus fell on land once more, where restored were life and limb, bewitched by Calypso's song.
Now Odysseus, all said and done, was a man vulnerable to worldly women's wanton wiles
And Calypso was full besot with our hero's lusty frame, his wit, his deeds and charming smiles.
For seven years did he taste bliss, ensconced in Calypso's arms with thought of home amiss
But one day, after seven years, did Caypso, with heavy heart, let him go on pleas of our Hermes.
From Calypso's isle did Odysseus sail on raft, through storm, as was now his habit, and came to Sceria
Where Nausicca, on Athena's urge, gave succor, till he sailed with Phaecians who had trade with Sumeria
The Phaecian ships soon landed Odysseus on fair Ithacan shores where Penelope had travail,
But my dear laddies, I must hie hence, for the Dawn is nigh, of Penelope and Suitors, is another tale.
Concluded
In magical verses weave your fated heart's request,
With metaphors holding the shy choir of light abreast,
When hearts corroded by hatred in barrenness rest,
And chains of thought whip gently the gentle flight's zest.
If you are to regain control once more,
When friends of yesteryear were but a lore,
Whose drab garments through time emphatically wore,
But forgiveness you've secreted from its core.
And if in hope you can stand upright,
Not raising armor before the liar’s project slight,
When rage whispers edicts as if to indict,
Melt it in calm, with spirit bright.
Show the world whole your portrait fair,
No masks, no regret, laid bare,
And if you dream of deep breaks in despair,
May you not become in others' lives a dismal seer.
When eternity throws its cold shadow in your corner's crease,
You should gaze with eyes that do not buckle under time’s caprice.
Every living moment in time's palm surely will not cease,
On the heart's scale, they demand to be released.
If you can listen when the truth is spoken,
Alien and shifted in a world that's been broken,
And to persist through the common lies outspoken,
To find faith beneath the frothy spray's token.
If you dare face decay’s embrace without dread,
Avoiding the gilded pleasure's feigned spread,
And in autumn whispers feel your stern fall ahead,
In the poverty of a sky that once display had fed.
Risk carrying on the die heavy, precious pearls,
Wager all that you've got for a fleeting twirl,
And then, whoever you are, learn not to hurl hopes like chaff,
Your failures become a path leading to something more sacred, more daft.
Endure, in a feeble body, remorse and persistence,
Wearing a smile as a shield, melting the tormenting ice of existence.
Cherish the moment that remains in unending instance,
With a soul lined in armor's silent resistance.
If you can fill the silences in empty spaces,
When shattered times speak with yesterday's faces,
Replenish them with fresh sparks among the disgraces,
Then you will build from seconds, unbroken traces.
And the Earth shall through you be magnified,
And all that writhes in its infinite tide,
And in this great shaken, you'll uncover as scribed,
That you're a whole man, not just a soul that's been pried,
Not part of the herd whose times have dried,
But master of the strength from your own dream derived.
THE DALLAS COWBOYS
Can you not hear the rumblings of that distant herd coming,
The loud thundering of destiny’s champions crossing, the NFL
Field of dreams, beware the rampaging lightening team known
As the Dallas Cowboys, for they are the hail storms victorous
Breed, the eye of the hurricane riders, searching for their
Well-deserved trophy of fortunes honor!
Remove your cowboy’s hats of respect unto them, ladies
Curtsy with reverences motion, for these athletes are
Endurance’s best, and they shall overcome against
Any opposing finest challengers, these rangers of the
Old western traditions, that carry this country’s time
Honored name of the cowboy to the ultimate extreme,
Of skill and strength’s dexterity!
Dallas all plain drifters of purity’s valor, head to head
No bull horns about it, these are the champions of the
Gladiatorial games in the world of sportsmanship!
Yielding unto no oppositions combatants, these warriors
Hold their ground with distinctions sheer magnificence!
Let those world famous cheerleaders scream with every
Field goal achieved, for these beauties know that no
Other team in footballs annals will score, to the level
Of these good old boys, named by fame's hall of records,
The famous Dallas Cowboys, heehaw and God bless hum!
Now listen you city slicking team of sports hall of fameing
Seekers, you’d better go back to your home fields of
Advantages, for hear in this lone star state, we take no
Prisoners, and show no mercy to out lander's!
Here in the ALAMO state of freedoms calling,
We remember our heritage standing tall and
Proud against all odds, blazoned in bullets
Historical legends, our grand team barres
The name of fore-barriers proudly, those
Pioneer’s men known, as the all American
Cowboys!
These six-shooters whom rode the die hard tails,
Across a new world creating a country of freedom,
Where only the tumble-weeds rolled, and desert dust,
Coached a man’s thirst almost to madness!
Now in traditions sport of men, a new team of desperado’s,
Threatens this lone star state, but have no fear my fellow
Texans for our Dallas Cowboys will send them packing,
With a good old boy’s field goals smacking, so I’ll cheer
Them on, waving my hat in the evening air, yelling heehaw,
Go get hum boys!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
FOR LINDA THE DESTROYER
ROCK ON SISTER POET
An Evil War
They walk the plains of sun-dried grass,
together in a row;
the mothers, with their young ones, pass
to search for food and go
for miles with thirst to find a drink;
as dry season appears.
They walk along, each one in sync,
alert with eyes and ears.
On different paths, the males walk too
to feed as they patrol,
and somehow they, with inner clue,
all find a water hole.
And peacefully they live their days,
adapt to nature's reign
that serves them well to drink and graze
and procreate their strain.
But space in their domain is less...
encroached by humankind,
uncaring of the crowding stress
they leave on them behind.
Still worse, they have become aware
of threats of crueler kind,
and learned to watch, to hide, beware
of horrors which they find.
So oft they see a sight disturbed...
sprawled out along their path;
a member of their precious herd...
they trumpet loud with wrath.
They stop and mourn like humans do,
stand vigil, shocked and chilled;
caress the faceless friend they knew...
who for his tusks...was killed.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Premiere Contest: Evil Is Everywhere
Sponsor: Brian Davey
Judged: 10/08/2016
BBC News: The War On Elephants: April 28, 2016
"Bloated and eerily upright the large adult elephant was still standing where it had been killed - just next to the stream - its face hacked off....It had been fleeing the carnage in the mud 100m or so away, where the remains of four other adults and one young elephant lay fallen and disfigured, their tusks and trunks all taken for ivory and meat. Like a macabre statue, this faceless animal stood as a landmark to the horrors of poaching, of the ivory trade, and of the mass slaughter of the last remaining elephants in central Africa...
“It's worth so much more than just the animals. It's about trying to stabilise a whole region which has been unstable for decades. It's about trying to basically build peace. And that is why we wake up every morning, why everyone fights this war, and why we try and save the elephants. It's about basically saving Congo. On 23 April 2016, three rangers were killed in a fresh clash with poachers. Park manager Erik Mararv and another ranger were badly injured."