Long Slickers Poems

Sheriff Koplin has ridden East to gather a few other folks who decided to leave the city and head West, hoping to settle in Milton Creek. I'm sure whoever they are will be good people...

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Old Jack is at it again, Great Grandmother says.
Her voice eases through a window as we reach shoes on the porch.
At least twelve pair; which is okay as she has eighteen children.
A variety of second...

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The House That Jack Built 3
Frequently we youngest four gathered bottles that were strewn in ditches,
 And along the railroad track,
Then glide our feet over well-worn steel rails on the journey back.
 We'd exchange empties...

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"American Grafitti" took me back again to High School in the 1960's
"Back to the Future's" nifty hot rod took me back in time and almost left me!

"City Slickers" took me way out west, to rustle...

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Billie was a true authentic hillbilly
who wore no shoes even if it was chilly
his holy jeans looked like swiss cheese
where daily you'd catch a glimpse of his knobby knees

Whenever he left his cabin his Ma...

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I know how to live off the land
I'm a survivalist
I make do with whatever's at hand
I'm a survivalist

It's a mindset,
it's a lifestyle
You must have a soldier's discipline,
be able to endure hardships for a long while

I'm...

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Look Nigel, Boris and Dave are all climbing out of the cave
No longer keen to be an MP - they’d rather freak-out at a rave!
The Commons have driven them sickly
So they’re clearing their desks rather...

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The air is heavy like a dirty woolen blanket
each colorful strand pulled through the warp.
Horns blare and traffic skids and screeches
as unborn accidents are aborted 
by fancy-pants cops.

The city slickers in their posh clothes
zip along...

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THE FOURTH OF JULY HAT

We used to celebrate July the Fourth when the kids were young—
Till they grew up and moved away and life became far-flung.

Yes, once we toasted freedom’s day and shot off big...

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They ask me how I write these words..
 Like who's my favourite poet..
 Is it Keats, a Wordsworth or maybe what about a Bronte..
 Perhaps the lordly Byron..
 It's not in written words, but what...

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A chronological anthology
Of legends, folk lore and mythology
There’s no one called Eric
Or Ethel or Derek
For which I shall make no apology

Samson just got himself sheared
Delilah had cut off his beard
She cut off his hair
Then headed...

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The Girl with the Blackberry Eyes

So there you stand, with your yawn colored slickers,
wishing your life to be more
Fruit flavored fantasies sprinkled with stickers 
so much is waiting in store

Someone is longing your destined arrival,
desires...

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Naked to Nurture.  Naked, to Nurture.



Why not naked into woods?
We yank up gumboots.
Enshroud our piggies in wicking and itching sockbags.
Hoping to holdfast against the forfeiture of bought heat.

The city slickers in their shiny slickers
clasp...

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I dont know any African heroes
Only the city slickers on their quest for seven zeroes
Teach me the names of the fathers of prose 
And how with blistered fingers and eager minds of listeners
from ashes they...

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Scott Joplin, Paul Simon and the Beatles pop,
The Stones, Dire Straits and, Yes & ZZ Top.
Bob Dylan plays his heart out, Northern Soul,
Rod Stewart, The Traveling Wilburys do their stuff,
And as if that isn't enough,...

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Poet: Ken Jordan
Poem: Seattle
Edited by: Sparkle Jordan
written: August/2006

Heaven is at
   the end 
of a rainbow
   In a place 
called Seattle -
     
"The Emerald City,"
as it's crowned,
   on the edge 
of the
   Puget Sound -

    This is...

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...inspired by 'August Rain' by Joseph Brodsky


The afternoon dissolves to darkness,
suddenly the downpour tumbles
and the spouts regurgitate.
Willows wilt and elm trees tremble,
intertwine, then dissassemble,
all awash in green and grey,
threads of nature cast asunder,
unattached they dance...

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...inspired by 'August Rain' by Joseph Brodsky


The afternoon dissolves to darkness,
suddenly the downpour tumbles
and the spouts regurgitate.
Willows wilt and elm trees tremble,
intertwine, then dissassemble,
all awash in green and grey,
threads of nature cast asunder,
unattached they dance...

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...inspired by 'August Rain' by Joseph Brodsky


The afternoon dissolves to darkness,
suddenly the downpour tumbles
and the spouts regurgitate.
Willows wilt and elm trees tremble,
intertwine, then dissassemble,
all awash in green and grey,
threads of nature cast asunder,
unattached they dance...

Read More

...inspired by 'August Rain' by Joseph Brodsky


The afternoon dissolves to darkness,
suddenly the downpour tumbles
and the spouts regurgitate.
Willows wilt and elm trees tremble,
intertwine, then dissassemble,
all awash in green and grey,
threads of nature cast asunder,
unattached they dance...

Read More

The afternoon dissolves to darkness, 
suddenly the downpour tumbles 
and the spouts regurgitate. 
Willows tilt and elm trees tremble, 
intertwine, then disassemble, 
all awash in green and gray, 
threads of nature cast asunder, 
unattached they...

Read More

The afternoon dissolves to darkness, 
suddenly the downpour tumbles 
and the spouts regurgitate. 
Willows tilt and elm trees tremble, 
intertwine, then disassemble, 
all awash in green and gray, 
threads of nature cast asunder, 
unattached they...

Read More

The afternoon dissolves to darkness,
suddenly the downpour tumbles
and the spouts regurgitate.
Willows tilt and elm trees tremble,
intertwine, then disassemble,
all awash in green and grey,
threads of nature cast asunder,
unattached they dance and scatter
at the dimming of the...

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“Country Christmas Carol”      ---  dedicated to my family

 by  Miriam  McCue (creator of flamingo art, & poetry.so far.)

We love to sing Christmas songs,
My Grandson Bubba and I.
And...

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The world moves, nothing stays still.
The music flows, to make life good.
Stories hold us together, to relate.
To understand the connection we have.
Sage smoke rises, spirit voices call.
Sunset tears fall, like colored raindrops.
Riders spur horses, slickers...

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