My little Tornado
See you at the end of incredible
A harvest of likes
A harvest of Loves
Follows you to the end
The end of incredible lust
Found burning between fantasy and dream
My eyes claim to have the answers I seek
But with all the wisdom I stand behind
I fight to right the puzzle of time
Then I look at myself
The truth that hides behind a mind that just won't shut up
Conspiring a flavor
just enough to make you see
The magic of your strut upon the path of surrender
To a place in my mind that makes us both feel alive
Its so intense to live a life
So immense
Should be your heart
In a swirling wind
That brings you to me
In a dream of you
if I could ask
Whats the purpose of those boots with wings
You would have the answer
I ve been looking for
All my life
It feels right to listen to Lord Huron and think of Montana
When reality feeds itself on one’s own myopic inertia
To be there again, a hungering and herculean agenda
To do this one life away from her, self serving and simply
I swam to this timid paradise but it drowned me nearly
The silence here is bold, it reminds me often and clearly
When you brood upon things you misunderstand they still hatch
Nevermore in Trout Creek the cold clay through my toes I’ll pinch
The silence there was warm, like chicken soup she made from scratch
Rolling hills of green grass meet my eyes, skies of heavenly blue open up to the mountains reaching the skies..
Rivers gushing along the prairies of wildflowers, Montana is HIS creation, brings HIS children to their knees.
I look up, sea of green pine trees line the highways for motorists to enjoy, My soul is at rest with sounds of birds singing their praise to God, Montana in its own beauty fills my heart with peace..
Mountains of rock high as the eye can see, life can’t help but pause as to cleanse our stress, daily grind, Wyoming has touched me with Gods beauty and spirit.
Sunset is among us between the mountains of trees, golden rays settles upon the gentle running river below as if GODS hands blessing us with Montanas beauty..
The deer and bison grazing upon weeds in the bed of mountains, please let this moment never end, Montana carry my worries away down into your river of carefree blessings….
Because of Montana
I am with you,
now.
Because of Montana
the wind still whispers
through the pines.
Because of Montana
I can lay next to you
even here in the desert
and heat shimmering,
cement of a city.
Cheap ale pools in a Styrofoam cup.
She’s barefoot in gravel,
anklet flashing beneath the floodlamps.
Pickup window ajar, radio blaring
“Friends in Low Places.”
Her jeans slung low,
hips marbled violet on the porch-swing,
ash winnowing across her thighs
from last night’s guttering fire.
I watch the buttes flatten at gloaming,
a silo blinking red—
a wound stitched into the earth.
She speaks of leaving at firstlight.
I say nothing,
fingers tracing the stubs of dead cigarettes
between her knuckles.
Coyotes keen beyond the barbed-wire.
The stars loom Pendulous
We do not lift our gaze.
Life is trailblazing the sail across the horizon.
N'er knowing the day nor what it will be comprisin'.
The pendulum of motion, soul's compass providing the way.
A theater of kaleidoscope projections, their masterpiece array.
The calmness in the hush of a stream's lullabye from jaggedness it raise.
Heaven's murial, the Meadowlark's song trumpeting its praise.
The mirage of distant silhouettes, a forever echoing of the skies.
Hypnotized by the breath of the stars, their power to mesmerize.
The snow upon the mountains
and the wind across the plains
These are the sparks that ignite
my inspiration’s flame
From the old rockin’ chair
came the sound of his snores
that rattled the windows
and vibrated the doors
She looked o’er her glasses
but kept counting her stitch
as she watched his feet jerk
and his hands start to twitch
She knew he was dreaming
‘bout them places he’d been
Was out riding the grass
cross the highline again
She’d heard all his stories
knows most of them are true
Been little on the range
that her cowboy didn’t do
He had grown a fine herd
carved a ranch out of rock
Raised a passel of kids
that now care for the stock
Fought many harsh winters
to keep his dream alive
Spent countless holidays
out on some cattle drive
Had fought wolves, drought, and fire
blizzards and flooding rain
Busted broncs and some bones
not once did he complain
Always managed to find
a bit extra to give
He had paid well his dues
for this good life they live
Always held his head high
through those sorrows and pain
Said if he had a do-over
he’d do it that way again
The sun hangs gilded
I savor the warmth
as autumn trees glow like fire
flickering through hoar frost
mountains loom proud
into cloudless blue
like white-headed old men
watching over the world
the sweet smell of pies,
cakes and bread
mix with chocolate as
they escape from stores lining the street
wisps of frozen breath
drift from shoppers lips
it suspends in the clear air
for an eternity it seems
Oh, the beauty that God
has provided this day
going unnoticed by eyes
glued to small screens in idle hands
~ All My Life a Waddie…
I have lived the life of a country bumpkin
matter of fact I came into this world where
Every day was lived hand to mouth so to speak
poor as a church mouse with not a crumb to spare
I’ve lived among the bright lights of the city
just doing the nine-to-five job everyday
Worked my ass off for less than minimum wage
took a few odd jobs for whatever it paid
Been a soldier, farmer, manager and cop
dug ditches, cleaned toilets and worked in a bar
Business owner, cashier, bouncer and a bum
laid highways, built bridges and washed people’s cars
I’ve flown through the sky and sailed over the sea
worked on mountains, the beach and in the forest
All through my life no matter the job I had
I have always tried to do my very best
Always lived the life of a hardworking man
never given a silver spoon that's for sure
I want you to know that I feel still quite blessed
and I would never ask for anything more
Now that the end of my working life is done
time for this old man to quit roaming about
Find a place I can sit and write poetry
until my final flicker of flame burns out
~ Mary Fields…
Was born into slavery somewhere back east
she thought it was Hickman County, Tennessee
Growing up, she had learned how to read and write
though she'd spent her childhood in captivity
Came to Montana to live life as a nun
but learned she was better suited for fight'n
She stood six foot tall and weighed two hundred pounds
wore a six shooter she could draw fast as light'n
She had arms and hands looked like battering rams
she towered o'er most cowboys here in the west
She smoked cigars and chawed a tobacco plug
a flask of whisky hidden under her dress
She came to fame one day when a green cowpoke
said that no black woman could be his better
She'd laid him out flat when he went for his gun
Mary shot him before he could clear leather
In her left hand she could hold the reigns of six
of the orneriest horses you'd ever knew
while shooting a shotgun with the other hand
and could still keep them horses a runnin' smooth
She'd out shoot, out fight and out drink any man
Was mean, stubborn, cantankerous and scary
Specially if you was a meaning to steal
from a wagon driven by Stagecoach Mary
I was out riding the fences one day
and spied these here suits and their fancy car
They said they was from some oil company
and started cutting their way through the wire
Well I says whoa down a bit young fellas
I proceeded with my best daunting stare
There's a reason that no trespassing sign
has been hung up on that post over there
This suit says "Well old timer I don't care"
cause a blind man should be able to see
That all of them no trespassing signs there
just do not apply to my friends and me
Besides, how you think you're gonna stop us
that sign sure won't keep me from coming in
I told him the odds was in my favor
cause was the four of us against just them
Well that dude puffed out and chuckled a bit
looks more like there's one old man agin three
I said you want to take another look
there's Smith and Wesson, Remington and me
Well I put a friendly shot in the air
and them boys jumped into their car and fled
I’m sure their ride home didn’t smell too good
after I shot once more over their head
There’s only so many ways I can write a song
about a cowboy riding his horse cross the range
Are there any new words I can use to describe
the rugged mountains that tower over the plains
What else can I say about them icy cold rivers
that rapidly flows down from a snow covered peak
Or the beauty of a simple life just living
in a line shack right next to a slow running creek
To tell you the feeling after a hard days ride
the warmth of the camp roll that I made for a bed
The sight of a full moon rising over the hill
the cattle standing still and my belly well fed
Is there another way to express how I feel
bout all them stars a shinin' up there in the sky
Or about how nature lulls me to sleep each night
with the howl of a coyote or a night hawk’s cry
How many more stanzas can it possibly take
until you understand what a glorious sight
Seeing all them old cowboys that you call your friend
telling jokes and stories round the campfire at night
Heck, I suppose it don't matter what rhymes I use
or trying to find some new words for me to give
You ain't never gonna know lest you come out here
to the tall grass and live the way the cowboys live
Riding out among the tall grass and sage
I came on a pile of old cowboy's bones
No grave was dug and there was no marker
to say who it was that died here alone
I wonder if when his final light blinked
was there someone who held his memory
Or was he just a lonely old cowboy
who roamed o'er this vast Montana prairie
Did he have a woman he left behind
to shed a tear or cry out in sorrow
Were there any children who might want to
carry his name into their tomorrow
Or maybe he had folks back in the east
who hadn't heard from him in many years
Where his mamma mourned her son every night
praying for him through eyes filled up with tears
Whoever he was will never be known
so I unmounted and dug him a grave
I wrapped his bones up in my camp blanket
on a bended knee a prayer I gave
Lord would you please watch over this man’s soul
as he rides your herd through eternity
Where the grass is green and the water’s sweet
because he’s just another cowboy like me
That storm had my heart beating
as I rode herd through the night
All that rumbling of thunder
and savage flashes of light
The darkness felt uneasy
as drenching rain fell in shrouds
And with each flash of lightning
I saw thick black boiling clouds
Well the storm has passed on by
and morning drifts o'er the plain
I sit here in my saddle
tired and damp from last night's rain
Gazing across this landscape
where everything’s been washed clean
There's a mist on the mountains
so heavy they can’t be seen
The cattle graze peacefully
day rises over the hills
Under this low hanging sky
my world sits silent and still
From between my horse’s ears
in this gray light of the day
I see all of God's glory
so I bow my head to pray
To thank God for seeing fit
to bring me through that dark night
Letting me witness once more
his majestic morning light
Sometimes it makes me wonder
how Heaven could truly be
Anything more glorious
than this valley is to me
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