Long Sagebrush Poems

This is, as indicated, the 2nd HALF of this fairly lengthy poem. Due to Poetry Soup's file-size limitations, this piece had to be posted in 2 parts. 
   The 1st HALF can be...

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The Cowboy
A hundred thousand miles
were written on his face
He'd earned near every wrinkle
Did this cowboy known as "Jace"
He'd ridden cross the country
From Death Valley up to Maine
In weather full of sunshine
To the roughest hurricane
He owned...

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' The gods' spake to all who had 'wide' ears...
but all they heard was Apollo's muse....'
   

How leavened my soul to search,
   
   wooly and wild to the waxxen...

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(Historical train-ride on the first Transcontinental Railroad in 1870 from Omaha to Ogden aboard the Union Pacific Railroad)     © 2009 (Jim Sularz)

Wyoming winds blow like a hurricane,
the flimsy bridge sways to...

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How leavened my soul to search,
   
   wooly and wild to the waxxen wind,
   
   how swift my wings though my fancy yearns,

   catching sights...

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Birdie’s Bar
August 19, 2008

To the old Plymouth
Mom came to salvage her brood
We’d hear the crunch of gravel beneath her feet
She dragged us three sleepy eyed girls
Sullen
Curious 
Non-entities
We took our mealy mouths up and followed her
Out...

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SAGEBRUSH RANCH

holding his small hand,
jumping up and down,
in the silver box —
a playground with mirrors
and three buttons.
people that look like us
are all around.
when the box is full
they disappear.
the ding-ding sounds
and doors part ways,
as we exit...

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Akin a tumbleweeds  
aimlessly blowing in the wind
umlaut punctuation 
courtesy of let herd Mother Nature 
nsync with markie mark, 

(or other faux nuke heads 
on silent auction 
ajudicating bidding chopping block) 
or getting sparred...

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The firelight was fading
The shadows grew in size
In the distance if you listened
You could hear the faintest cries
Of coyotes and of timber wolf
Signalling the end of day
Howling at the growing moon
Keeping night spirits at bay

The...

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Altogether unprofitable sentimental but no fool they call him an old sap 		        The taste of knowledge to him is sweet to get more valuable than sap to...

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Of all the minin' camps in old Colorady, the town of Tin Cup was truly,
With all its gamblin' halls, brothels and sleazy saloons the most unruly!
'Tis said that Jim Taylor dipped his tin cup in...

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Peter is joining us for lunch in the cafeteria. I met him on a crowded Saturday morning at a coffee shop. He’s from the flammable, paper-dry, sagebrush hills of Malibu and grew up overlooking the...

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Lord, I ain't good at prayin', I hope You'll fergive me fer that,
But I need to pause by this Colorady spruce fer a little chat.
It's been a very tryin' day a-herdin' dogies an' fixin' fences,
So...

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...and possesses means 
 and tees to till verse
akin to a sorceress 
who waves magic wand

to produce such supreme sentences
and weaves tantalizing 
terrific topographic tundra's
that this admirer of her artful 
and colorful poetic endeavors

prompts him...

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For an instant, it had seemed imagination
Perhaps an illusion?
A movement so fleeting, a tease of the senses
Just by chance,...just one glance,
that triggers and pricks all the hairs down my spine
Grey shadows stalk me, as if...

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From the Painted Desert, head west
Past sagebrush, brittle bush, desert scrub
And The Petrified Forest at rest
To the Rocky Mountains above
Go past the Continental Divide
Below Douglas firs and pinyon pines
Head down the sunset side
Where the Colorado...

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I'm as free as the wind as I sway in the saddle!
I love life!  There's no clutter, nothing to addle!
I give my faithful horse Wild Lightning free rein,
As we meander across God's magnificent terrain!

My...

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Poet:  Ken Jordan 
Poem: Gal from Tucumcari 
Edited by: Sparkle Jordan 
written:  April/2017


The next woman I marry 
will be a Gal from Tucumcari.

she'll be tougher than a 
desert Tree Cholla 

Wilder than a...

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The Grand Canyon is like the brain
with deep, unexplored fissures and tributaries, 
the main route well known by now.

I am walking, walking inside my mind, 
a grand canyon, a planet of canyons, a system
of planets....

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poet in flight
writing for a free airspace
keeping the seatbelt on
closing both of his eyes
to let the poem fly for itself

Every breath that i whisper
a single movement of the pen upon paper
giving takeoff from the runway...

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He came out of the west riding slowly, the sun and sand 
did their best to make him wish he had never begun this quest 

He left Ohio when barely a teen,  nary a...

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and the stars rain on you
 
   like snow....    let intuition rule the day
 
and wonder allwhatabout you don't know...
 
 
for tomorrow is still on borrowed
 
time today, and...

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Lovely dreams; purple caribous and pink giraffes amid marvels placebo cycles....

Twineful fertile world always trying to inject its truisms twinkling 

Twenty milligrams of cloaked melancholy; and misery loves company?!

As gazing into the storefront window at...

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Remember me?
I remember you.
My home-
Where the meadowlark laughs
And the sun paints the tranquil sky
Over the ancient hills-
A familiar majesty,
The sagebrush and thistle,
So strong and hardy,
Ugly to most,
Dear to me.
I long to wander those hills again-
Anthills...

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While I was riding across the sagebrush
I happened upon this soft running creek
My face and neck were burning just a bit
my stomach was getting a little weak

Seemed like a decent place to rest a spell
and...

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