Nevada Poems

The Beauty is a Desert

the desert is mystically alluring at sunset, looking docile and safe
few sights are as gorgeous as her evening skies of oranges and pinks
those who know, do not venture out after dark
for the desert is like a dangerous woman who looks unassuming
but is anything but

in the crooks and crevices of sand dunes and cacti there are dangers
hidden from most.
scorpions, camel spiders, tarantulas.
thorny devils, iguanas, and sidewinder rattlesnakes
the beauty of the desert sometimes obliterates these facts.

it would be rare to encounter a fennec fox, badger or muskrat
but they are there too, and could become violent if startled or crossed.
the desert is a beauty; but a vulture or bald eagle could swoop down
and carry you off and your little dog too.

Sierra Nevada Mountains

In the forest, where shadows play,
An orchestra of life, in the light of day.
Leaves whisper secrets in the gentle breeze,
Nature's song, among the swaying trees.
Lush green meadows, where flowers sway,
Painting the landscape in colors gay.
Birds in flight, their melodies sung,
Nature's beauty, forever young.
Mountains tall, touching the sky,
Guardians of the land, standing high.
Rivers flow, carving their own way,
A journey of time, with each passing day.
Sunset hues, painting the horizon bright,
A masterpiece of colors, a breathtaking sight.
Stars above, shining so bright,
Guiding us through the darkest night.
Nature's beauty, a treasure so dear,
A wonderland for us to be near.
In its embrace, we find our place,
A part of the world, in awe and grace.
The gifts of nature, so pure and clear.
For in its magic, we find our true home,
In the wild wonderland, Sierra Nevadas where I roam.

Nevada Cowboy

There once was a cowboy from Nevada.
He wore a barf bag as a bandana. 
When he rode on his horse,
his sickness grew worse,
and his intestines flared with melena.

Nevada Gold

Nevada Gold
Well I’ve got that roaming fever don’t know what to do
Last time I had it I looked just like a fool
But there’s gold in nevada enough for every man
All you need is a pick-ax a shovel and a pan
After four months on the trail I finally staked my claim
If I don’t get rich I’m the only one to blame
All I have to do is work hard and don’t go out at night
But all those saloons and dance halls are a friendly sight
After Four months of digging I have lots of gold
Now stay away from town is what I was told
But a few little drinks and a girl by my side
Do a little gambling and come back here and hide
Well I learned my lesson dancing with the woman of a jelious man
Instead of trying to fight I should have turned around and ran
He drew his gun faster now I’m dying on the floor
I guess this is the end I won’t be roaming any more
Marty West

Garnet Lake

I pause to listen to the silence –
I am one with the million befores
and the afters and at great peace 
amid the soundless, immense harmonies.

I become the rhythm of the spheres
and part of that oneness orchestration,
both absorbed and apart in a light,
too orderly to be but blind chance.

There must be purpose to the whole
that transcends reason and goes beyond 
the despair of nothing.  I become the Cosmos
not the chaos and within I am part.

There is a miracle to existence 
and its exquisite, ephemeral beauty.
To hike to Garnet Lake is to be without, 
wherein, without, I find my within.

In Wendover, Nevada

Staying one weekend
with my spouse at a
casino/ hotel,
we enjoy good food
and gamble of course.

Wasting money
at slot machines
becomes boring 
after a while.

We traveled
far for this?
I’m thinking

we should
have stayed

home.

May 18, 2020
for Emile Pinet's Diminished Hexaverse Poetry Contest

The Jewel Thief From Nevada

A jewel thief named Jimmy from Nevada
Stole rings from mobster Pablo's old grandma
Jimmy thought he'd better run
Pablo caught him and had fun
Now Jimmy has all his meals through a straw.





Written on 17th July 2019

Nevada Gold

The trail along which we now ride
Was made by folks with visions bold,
A westward moving human tide,
Who nurtured dreams of farms or gold.

From the promise of day’s first light,
Through somber sand and sage, they rode
In savage heat and gelid night,
Bound for the distant Mother Lode.

Their deep grooved ruts are now obscure
Along the winding desert track
Where traveled once the pioneers
In some imagined days, way back.

For those who passed, the dreams are done;
And most who failed left tales untold
With wagon wheels and oxen bones
And wood crosses above their own.

In the debris of that vast land
Lay a pink bottle, half in sand,                                     
Which sparkled in the twilight gold.
It held a faded note which told:

“Tis a helluva place where I have died.
I did not make it, but I’m glad I tried.”

4/1/19/ 2019 Poetry Marathon Final Placement / Sponsor: Mark Toney

Nevada Dirt Hills

mid summer
Nevada dirt hills
heat rises


7/20/2017

Fall In Nevada

Grey stone mountains
Plastered against the sky
Eagle's cry cracks the sun
Daylight drips from grey

Mosaics of flaming color
Aspens and oaks in meadows 
Grey rainbows of granite
Brush strokes down the slope

Towering pines, oh evergreen 
Stained gold with dying light
The cool of each shadow 
Takes a bow to wispy clouds

A bluebird calls a sweet tune 
The heavens are colored pastel
The sun dips in blue mountains
Another fall is swept away

Nevada, 1969

An all-but-empty Interstate stretches
straight, streaking horizon to horizon:
it is a ribbon with no bow, wrapping
northern Nevada.

                            The eye fixes
on absent fences, looks for limits,
scans scenery overwhelmed by sky.
I cock my thumb to beg a ride;
a tear forms at the corner of my eye.

"Damn wind!"
I mutter, half believing the lie.

       A dusty pickup rolls toward me
then accelerates, leaves me staring.
It dwindles into distance. -- "OK!",
I snarl.

I kick a rock, pick up my pack
and start to walk, left thumb poked
out to nothing.

                        Someone will stop.
Two cars speed by; I wave to them.

My belly rumbles and I count
the steps I take. My wet eyes ache.

Someone will stop.

Or won't.

The Sierra Nevada

Would one want to attempt to claim
The land atop these mountains?
Or just enjoy the view from afar
And play in the lakes and fountains?

Although some would agree
That is not worth the time and patience
But who are they to decide one’s fate?
They are not your masters or agents

Climb that treacherous mountain chain
And never look back down the cliffs
For all that will become of that
Are the repeating ‘Buts’ and ‘Ifs’

If you begin to lose your hope
Do not let go of the dream
Use your heart to guide your strength
The climb is not as unfeasible as it seems

Once you reach that highest peak
Look back at the world and smile
For the mountain you have claimed as yours
Could be wanting you to stay forever in a while

Schneefall -Snowfall -La Nevada , Kintaishi Or Kanshi

Schneefall / Snowfall / La Nevada  (Kintaishi or Kanshi)

Der Schnee fällt wieder
Wo die Natur friert
Dort kehrt Ruhe ein 
Wildenten rufen



The snow falls again
Where the nature freeze
There lodges peace 
The call of wild ducks


Otra vez cae nieve
Donde la naturaleza congela
Allí aloja la paz 
Llamada de patos salvajes


Note: Kintaishi or Kanshi is  a Chinese form of poetry an can be written in different not
rhyming  lines and syllables e.g.  4  lines with 5,6 or 7 syllables in each line
                                      8  lines with 5 0r 7 syllables in each line
			  12 lines with 5 or 7 syllables in each line

Painted Nevada Sky

Go back to sleep and close your eyes.
Dream a dream, you and I, forever lost in time.

Staring to the sky, chasing the sun.
Remembering beautiful times when our life together first begun.

Reaching for your hand, I can feel you near.
Dream a dream of colors and you whispering in my ear.
 
Endless days together, highways never end.
Peaceful quiet times with my best friend.

Dreams that take me back, and only God knows why.
We can’t make it together, sharing the painted Nevada sky.

Stunning pastel sky, forever in my dreams.
Glowing in my mind, golden sunshine beams.

In my mind forever, your face I still see.
Still remembering contented times when you still loved me.

Life goes on, and to the horizon I drive.
Everlasting memories of you and my painted Nevada sky….





* I wrote this for a friends beautiful picture of a Nevada sunset.

Nevada

lights stay on all night
the only place to gamble
and bet the stars show

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