Long Slough Poems
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Of all the horses I have known,
And I have known a few,
It's of Rebel, my daughter's first loved horse
That I'll be telling you.
Her girl friends on the nearby farms
Had horses theirs to ride.
That she could not have a horse too,
She just could not abide.
We lived in a little pioneer town.
Our home had a tiny yard.
To fulfill my small girl's wishes
Would truly be too hard.
One day I found her crying and
It broke my mother heart.
I told her we'd look for a horse.
At least we'd make a start.
Well, that was all I need to say.
There was no reneging now.
We'd have to ask her daddy
And I didn't quite know how.
Her fresh tears won him over
And he told her he would try
To find the perfect horse for her
if she would no more cry.
We had an old unused garage.
If was mostly filled with trash.
She and her dad hauled to the dump,
What they couldn't sell for cash.
In June she went into the fields
Picking strawberries to help pay
For the horse for which she'd been looking
And would be finding any day.
At last there was one advertised
At we thought, a decent price.
She called her horse savvy uncle
To ask for his advice.
My brother checked the horse for her
And said that it was sound.
Exactly waht she wanted to hear,
She plunked her money down.
She cared for her horse the best she knew
And before long had proven she
Knew more about a horses's care
Than either her dad or me.
Rebel was quite a tall horse.
She had to climb to get astraddle
And sit up on his bare back.
We could not afford a saddle.
Rebel was the perfect horse
For a loving ten year old.
He was docile, slow and gentle.
Only when loose did he get bold.
There were times when he would get away,
From where ever he'd been tied.
He'd whip around and run again,
Just when we reached his side.
She and her friends had lots of fun
In those happy carefree days.
Swimming across the Swinomish Slough
Is a memory that stays
Our daughter got her money's worth
From that big sturdy horse,
Until his age began to show
And Nature took it's course.
Our town has become more lucrative
It's residents a richer crowd.
A horse stabled in garage these days
Would never be allowed.
My daughter raises horses now,
With the purest of blood line
But our Rebel of unknown heritage
At her age of ten was fine.
For Horse contest took 7th place
morning brought an arcane song to my ears
i was observing the spilling of light
between the curtain and the wall
the way the light seemed to carry the dust
when my quite moment
was dispatched
by the sensation of the earth and
its 30 km/ps rate of motion
by comparison
i wasn't even a mite
on an elephants eyelash
i was a microbe
riding on a rock
on a massive migration through space
my body became filled with avidity-
something was about to happen
the dam was made of mud
and it was monsoon season
looking into the hallway mirror
i was astonished to see the image inside
was not me
this was some type of apparition
a ghost
that belonged to someone else
the electrons in my brain swirled
forming the loose pattern of wafting smoke
an electrified current
all of this energy
shot past the sleeping dogs
though the house
pierced the atmosphere
then outward into the deep vastness of the heavens
a remarkable paroxysm and
i was back with myself
yet
i felt subtly metamorphosed
looking around,
all of the stuff
i had worked so diligently
to acquire
took on a look of being frivolous
unnecessary
it was all the programming of someone else
the whims of a schizophrenic
with vainglorious proclivities
a booming voice announces:
if you do not abide to the constructs
of this lovely societal aggregation
you are an outcast
a luddite
a nihilist
a lost soul
a demagogue
a loser
a shoe shiner
a sewage swiller
weak,
pathetic,
unable to assimilate
due to anachronistic tendencies
...
we have viewed into the aperture
that gives a glimpse
of both dissonnant living and
ways to slough off the insanity
but
we are controlled by dna's unblinking eyes
we make love and war simultaneously
we are the amalgamation of genes we conspire against
dna spirals up my spine
then feathers across my neurons
entrenching its fingers into my convolutions
i am the product of a mad scientist
who has designed me with used atoms
from distant, dead stars
i breathe oxygen
that have been around since the birth
of the universe
yet,
despite it all,
these animated atomic miracles
have fought to keep us all held together
so that we may witness the splendor
of being alive
the morning song wasn't so veiled after all
STILL KICKING
I've got this smile on my face,
tears rolling down my check, but I ant apologetic about it,
not bluffing though I hear buzzing sounds, being very busy I remain unhinge,
can't be knock off balance though through distractions the enemy
tried to lay sigh via smoky screens, I'll still stay here to slough it out till the end.
I know you need attention, time to be together with
but hey man am sorry meet me there if you can,
though the strides if my steps sliding,
being slice up like a broken glass now my face squeezing
but men I ant frowning.
Hearing the heaves on my chest,
felling like am losing though am still in front,
floating on forming waters
not certain whether I'll make it to the end cause is getting darker by the day
nothing worse than this black cloud above my head.
like a bubble gum pooping I felt so expose, fallen many times
but I've got to stand up and try a new approach cause is not over,
so I roll up my sleeves, whoa, blow off the dust,
feeling the fire on my heels but an not about to kneel
cause the big concern blazing on my chest,
I'll keep moving, following the footprint of the one with the blue print,
not slacken my grips nay, can't fail now cause I've got you'll on my mind
and I know you're watching. Certainly I'll have change in the midst of this ugly split, regardless of how it goes down life goes on,
feeling like am starting all over yeah no doubt
but am counting on the fact that God is faithful,
though am clever, I'll never be under the fever to think I'll succeed someday;
my time is now.
Reminiscing on the journey so far I confess,
am the designer of my own path,
making spotless decision is my predictable routine,
Jehovah has turned my life over
and now am unashamed cause his blood has wash away all my sins.
Am super turned up,
God did not consider my errors I guise that's why some folks are jealous,
I'll keep on though my feet's heavy my mind stayed on winning
everything regardless am still kicking you know it's time for kinging,
if you're following am still leading,
hearing yelling's behind but I stand tall I ant bragging,
you all know it am all out for the best, can't be frazzle
still kicking with my dudes, and guise what they're all tripping.
Words swirl through my mind
forming lines
even stanzas,
but most are lost,
being slammed
against the walls in my brain
shattering them.
Only one word
has escaped this destiny
sitting heavily
in the center...
Rot
to become rotten,
to decay,
to spoil,
decompose,
the tastiest word
in my repituar.
The thing about rot
....that's so nice
is one touch
and it spreads,
living or dead.
all is affected,
the only thing to stop it
is to cut it out.
So I let myself
out of my cage again
ready to use my touch
to help society
spreading,
infecting
caressing,
leaving my mark
on the world.
Now it's time to pay back
what it's given to me,
stop wearing the key around my neck,
and use it,
time to stir the cattle,
enough with
ordering a dinner
and staring at it all night,
find the weak,
the tame,
the unmarked
and go for the throat,
feel the blood
run down my own neck,
the gore
building up, covering my eyes,
burning,
yearning,
enjoying,
calming me,
making it easier
to deal with these things
called people,
the herd,
the curr,
the meal ticket.
Licking my lips
loving the chunks
sliding down my face,
I move to the next,
the next,
the next,
love it,
I won't leave it.
My maiden,
bloody,
quivering
lays on the ground,
slowly,
seditiously
I circle
smacking my lips,
savoring,
holding back 'til...
I go for the lower back
tearing into spine
then
I walk away
let her rot,
let her fester,
wait for it,
enjoyment building
as my disease infects
turning the skin to worthless goo.
Watch it slough off
slowly,
caressingly,
turning to gray,
the most lovely color.
And as I watch
from within an inch
of her face,
I enjoy the pain
streaking it
like a stain in the road
marking
what I'm taking.
No objection to cold weather, but...
ah jest wanna boomerang
back into the womb
versus being threatened
courtesy beastie boy gang
beating me to a pulp
after accurately discerning
being scared less pang
suddenly imagining myself
buffered, and buttressed
within zen Sibyl
prophet table Chinese philosophy
known as Yin and Yang.
No matter birth canal
long since got breached,
countless scores of years
I quickly grew
impossible mission to plunge
(think Nestea commercial)
headfirst back into utero,
haint got any got any
handy dandy blues clue,
nonetheless said wish
I broach to you,
whether ye reside in Baku
Guangzhou
Kalamazoo
Kathmandu
Peru
Thimphu
Timbuktu.
Sudden pang roared awake
nsync like blazing saddles
hot enough to sizzle steak
torpid, humid, and
arrid extra dry to take
breath away analogous vacuumed
courtesy fire breathing dragon
chilling parched scales in great lake
already this doubting
Thomas doth hanker
for global warming yore
less than six months ago
geesh for goodness sake,
when Earth did bake
triple digit temperatures
no thirst could slake,
thus intravenous feeding
in tandem with trach
still inadequate to brake
yours truly did pine... for chill
against dehydration, ah only to wake,
when came the morrow,
where Jack and Jill
sweat buckets, this
before they climbed uphill
akin to madding crowd
clamoring, thirsting, gulping...
every last drop
essentially emptying damn
immense reservoir spill
futilely swilling parched lips till...
Old cranks shrugged off
exceptionally hot weather, and did scoff
younger generation's creature comforts
old geezers recalled
back in the day
as laddies and Tom boy
lassies did slough
no trespassing signs
skinny dipping after they shuck off
clothes giddily swinging
atop highest bough
playing hooky averse
learning would ever payoff
pitying other kids in school
former gathering rosebuds...
around lunchtime hunger
relishing stealing stroganoff
under nose of Mister Groff,
one former German World War II,
who colluded with American "boys"
despite heavily decorated luftwaffe
and posthumously honored
Veterans day getting last laugh!
Who hasn’t heard of the Nigerian Letter or the Australian Lottery won?
So what about you’re kids in college… what for them is going on?
My son found a job posted on the University’s Nursing jobs bulletin Board.
Apparently several students applied to take care of an old man coming into town.
They were each approved separately, and then sent a check…
Plus a list of nursing supplies and a wheel chair they had to pay for and pick up.
Apparently, the place to work with had already been set up.
Once everything was paid for, they were ready for the job.
Instead all they got was their accounts cleaned out.
And the Nursing supplies were another part of the scam, my dear.
In the end the money they had was gone with everything saved from the student loans.
Now the problem was made and you know what? Guess who didn’t care?
The police, University, and bank said it happens all the time.
Of course they turned away saying it wasn’t their concern.
The bank told my son he owed $3400 more, even through he was the victim of the fraud.
The Banks fraud department yawned and said they wouldn’t look into what was done.
In fact, they were sending his accounts into collections to attack him even more.
Slough it off, and attack the victim, and of course none of them would do their work.
Mail fraud, money fraud, and con men involved… across state lines meant nothing at all.
Attacking the victim is not where the Banks, police, and university belong.
So let me tell you The States’ Attorney General is the next on the list.
The Attorney General and the Federal Government is where to go, my friend.
Don’t give up on the internet, there are help groups there, that abound.
Tell your children of the game… to keep them far away.
The bank wants my son’s next student loan money for collections on the debt…
And he will have to work full time at minimum wage to survive.
You might say everything at the moment… is truly upside down.
But we will fight unendingly… to straighten everyone out…
What a Christmas job deal breaker… and what a way to find out…
No objection to cold weather, but...
ah jest wanna boomerang back into the womb
to escape unrelenting forbidding gloom.
perhaps cuz mine generation
nsync with baby boom.
No matter birth canal
long since got breached,
countless (three plus) scores of years
I quickly grew
impossible mission to plunge
(think Nestea commercial)
headfirst back into utero,
yours truly haint got any
handy dandy blues clue,
nonetheless said wish -
I broach to you,
whether ye reside in Baku
Guangzhou
Kalamazoo
Kathmandu
Peru
Thimphu
Timbuktu.
Sudden pang roared awake
nsync like blazing saddles
hot enough to sizzle steak
torpid, humid, and
arrid extra dry to take
breath away analogous vacuumed
courtesy fire breathing dragon
chilling parched scales in great lake
already this doubting
Thomas doth hanker
for global warming yore
less than six months ago
geesh for goodness sake,
when Earth did bake
triple digit temperatures
no thirst could slake,
thus intravenous feeding
in tandem with trach
still inadequate to brake
yours truly did pine... for chill
against dehydration, ah only to wake,
when came the morrow,
where Jack and Jill
sweat buckets, this
before they climbed uphill
akin to madding crowd
clamoring, thirsting, gulping...
every last drop
essentially emptying damn
immense reservoir spill
futilely swilling parched lips till...
Old cranks shrugged off
exceptionally hot weather, and did scoff
younger generation's creature comforts
old geezers recalled
back in the day
as laddies and Tom boy
lassies did slough
no trespassing signs
skinny dipping after they shuck off
clothes giddily swinging
atop highest bough
playing hooky averse
learning would ever payoff
pitying other kids in school
former gathering rosebuds...
around lunchtime hunger
relishing stealing stroganoff
under nose of Mister Groff,
one former German World War II,
who colluded with American "boys"
despite heavily decorated luftwaffe
and posthumously honored
Veterans day getting last laugh!
As I watch the rain coming down in measured bursts onto the dark waters of the vast bayou.
My mind notes the watery circles and bubbles that trace alligators asleep in the slough.
I check my lines as the sun goes down. The wind fights me at every turn, causing my boat to rock.
I've got three dead gators in the skiff. For cash, I'll trade them when my boat shimmies up to the dock.
I snooze and wake to find that my boat has drifted to the bank where a bait line is stretched taut.
Thrashing sounds in the water let me know this one's big. Grabbing my gun, I aim for a sure shot.
It happens not. The muscular creature slips under the boat, then tugs on the line till he's free.
He crawls to land! I jump from the boat! Etched in my mind is, 'It must be Big Mel. This one's for me.'
I track him through sodden grasses, cracked twigs, fetid mud, until at the end, his swath disappears.
It's getting dark and I must return. Getting lost in a woods full of gators stokes my fears.
I arrive at the skiff, stepping carefully over gators and sad at losing Big Mel's gain.
Suddenly, Big Mel lunges from hiding and clamps down on my leg. At first, I can't feel the pain.
In the brisk of a minute, pain shoots through my body. My leg, as if on fire, feels burning hot.
Thank God for my rifle. Though trembling, I grab it and aim, bringing down Mel in a single shot.
One dead gator and one almost dead man! My mangled leg gushes blood as I get to the pier.
"Big Mel got me" , I yell, as I'm pulled from the boat. Willie gives me first aid, but is the end near?
Willie is my friend through and through, and he drives me to the hospital in his new seafood van.
The guys on the dock take care of my gators. In fact, Big Mel ended up in a gumbo pan.
The years have gone by as I retell this story. "Grandpa, tell it again" my grandkids still beg.
But the last time that I told it, the youngest one said, "Grandpa, Is that how you lost your left leg?"
No objection to cold weather, but...
ah jest wanna boomerang back into the womb
No matter birth canal
long since got breached,
countless scores of years
I quickly grew
impossible mission to plunge
(think Nestea commercial)
headfirst back into utero,
haint got any got any
handy dandy blues clue,
nonetheless said wish
I broach to you,
whether ye reside in Baku
Guangzhou
Kalamazoo
Kathmandu
Peru
Thimphu
Timbuktu.
Sudden pang roared awake
nsync like blazing saddles
hot enough to sizzle steak
torpid, humid, and
arrid extra dry to take
breath away analogous vacuumed
courtesy fire breathing dragon
chilling parched scales in great lake
already this doubting
Thomas doth hanker
for global warming yore
less than six months ago
geesh for goodness sake,
when Earth did bake
triple digit temperatures
no thirst could slake,
thus intravenous feeding
in tandem with trach
still inadequate to brake
yours truly did pine... for chill
against dehydration, ah only to wake,
when came the morrow,
where Jack and Jill
sweat buckets, this
before they climbed uphill
akin to madding crowd
clamoring, thirsting, gulping...
every last drop
essentially emptying damn
immense reservoir spill
futilely swilling parched lips till...
Old cranks shrugged off
exceptionally hot weather, and did scoff
younger generation's creature comforts
old geezers recalled
back in the day
as laddies and Tom boy
lassies did slough
no trespassing signs
skinny dipping after they shuck off
clothes giddily swinging
atop highest bough
playing hooky averse
learning would ever payoff
pitying other kids in school
former gathering rosebuds...
around lunchtime hunger
relishing stealing stroganoff
under nose of Mister Groff,
one former German World War II,
who colluded with American "boys"
despite heavily decorated luftwaffe
and posthumously honored
Veterans day getting last laugh!
I was born at great heights,
For the peak of morning rays and the glacial snowy nights ,
I never listen to my parents nor their way,
And when my mother holds me I escape and melt away,
At the verge of pride I fall,
Like a giant silvery foaming waterfall,
With huge sound and lustrous array,
I pound the rocks with bubbles of spray,
Always showing my blue and white smiles
I travel long and long miles,
From a frisky satin shower
To a turbulent young river,
Sometimes I run under your feet like a acquifer,
And sometimes over your head - along the hillside of peach and juniper,
I am swift, I am rapid and now a women of magnificent features,
With bends and curves called beautiful meanders,
Shhhhh! I have fallen in love and my man name is Tributary,
We joined at confluence with slow dilatory,
And now I am a Mother – mother of countless tiny rivulets
Forming a whimsical family living in a small hamlet
Sometimes when angry I cut off a loop for wrong,
Shortening the channel and forming a billabong.
My anger travels deeper and deeper for long
Leading to gorges and grand canyon,
I work from dawn to dusk without rest,
And carry on my back minerals and alluvium rust,
I have promised to deposit them on the banks
Not the commercial one but the river banks,
Alongside the bed of a river, creek, or stream.
Marsh, swamp, slough estuaries of beautiful dreams
After much travel I decide to retire as deltas
Even at senectitude I look like evergreen esmerelda,
My journey finally ends in touching the feet of Poseidon,
The Olympian God of the Oceans and king of the sea lions
When I turn back to see my own travel,
I have crossed so many floods and baffles,
But still I have provided fertile Agricultural lands,
And served as habitats for ubiquitous freshwater animals and plants
Although a river I keep moving even if I fall,
Why not humans who are the best creation of all.
22 May, 2016