Total Pageviews

Saturday, December 22, 2012

The Real St.Nick (link)

He didn't own any reindeer, he never drove a sleigh. He didn't wear red and white and he never came down the chimney. He was just a really GOOD guy, a bishop and a saint- who tried his best to help people.

This is what our society needs. More genuinely GOOD people who will fight for what's right. A tiding for the coming year.

It's worth the read.

Friday, December 21, 2012


If today was the End of the World;
(And it's not)
I'd have a good belly laugh
And smoke lots of pot.
Alas it seems
Too illegal to dream
But I'll keep going as I am
Forward (always forward!)
Like it or not.

Thursday, December 6, 2012


The Devil draws a line in the sand
Then he claps a good noise
Prances and lands
"Where do you stand?
Where do you stand?"
He asks and he glistens
A big toothy smile
Leans in big ears to listen.
But he doesn't wait for
Me to respond.
"You are taking too long.
You are taking too long!"
So with soft shallow hands
And long taloused nails
He pulls out a cake
Moist, delicate and chocolate to take.
"Come with me, come with me!
Things will be better
You will see, you will see!"
I stop and you look
Notice the line covered in gook
And I hear in the background
A Billion lungs screaming.

"To Hell with That!"
I was quite literal and spat
And I pulled out my
Magnum revolver.
I put one in his head
Shot him down dead
And put another where
His heart should have been.
There was silence for a bit
As the Billion lungs quit
And the cake fell apart
On the landing.

Then all of those eyes
Became my demise
As they looked at me
And they stared.
"I don't know what you all are looking at!
You ate from the cake
And that is that."
They gave in to temptation
From those soft silly hands
And for an eternity they did wonder
Where do they stand.
Where do they stand.

Sunday, December 2, 2012

The Women of Winnemucca

The Women of Winnemucca
Can not be called any less
For their hardworking demeanor
Thick skin makes them leaner
And their hands
Are made of wood knots.

If you'd ever met
A Woman of Winnemucca
You'd know it right away.
Straight to the point
An obsidian tip
Right on target; hell bent.

Because they know
The struggles of life
And no longer cry
For they know what it takes
To bend and to pry

And their children may hate them
May curse them or praise them
But they raised them up- irregardless
They know that in the dessert
You either live or you die
You either grow up or you cry
And for that you always live
As a child.

But if you learn from their lessons
These Basque looking angels
Or Paiute Sages of the Desert
Will show you a way
That is filled with love and with praise
And the rain will wash away
All the sand and the dirt
And let blossom
The most beautiful flower.

Sunday, November 25, 2012

The Boys of Winnemucca

The boys of Winnemucca
Deserve a loud applause
Gone away for 15 hours
Shift work night or day.

The boys of Winnemucca
Have families great and small
Every day they miss them
And every night they call.
8 days on/ 2 days off
4 days on/ work non stop.
They work those shifts
With crews long bent
And come home beat as a dog.

Covered in ash
Covered in grease
5 o'clock shadow
Eyes drooping down for sleep.

The boys of Winnemucca
Deserve a lot of love
Gone away for 15 hours
Shift work night or day.

The boys of Winnemucca
Break their back
For the one's they love
And we should really call them Men.
For a miner's work is hard and harder
Down in shafts so dim.

(soon to come- girls of winnemucca lol )

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Honorable Mention

So- the results from the poetry contest I entered a year ago came back. My poem- "The Parting Birds" got an honorable mention from over 5000 applicants. Also- its being published in a book. Nothing big, but it made my day :) I'll try again next year, too.
Here's the poem-

The Parting Birds

As the snow fell
The little sparrows came
At first one at a time
And then like the rain.

They came from a place
That grew little grain;
And they had heard the rumors
These fields once sang.

But the hope summer wrought
Happened too cold to grow
And the waves of once
Luscious grass
Got covered in snow.

Little tracks of despair
With their hopes and their dreams
A sparrow's prayer for grain
A day became weeks.

Yet, it was from their belief
There came a great Parting
Where the silent clouds opened
And heaven's grain, finally, fell soundly.

Friday, November 2, 2012

Freedom Is

Freedom Is...

Freedom is a Nevada Range
Listening to the radio
Setting your own stage.
Freedom is a Constitutional stay
Holding a bloody document
That we fight to display
Freedom is a Right and a Choice
to pursue your own Happiness
which ever way.
Freedom is working to the bone
Because you believe it
Not because you are told.
Freedom is a Boxer
Standing in the ring
Fighting for your life
Or fighting just to sing.

Thursday, October 25, 2012

High School Drama Production

As I sat down in the 5th row for certain
I could hear all the laughing
From behind the blue curtains
A few minutes passed
And the lights drew quite dim
The full house ushered in silence
For what would develop within.
A youthful face came out on stage
Painted white as a ghost
And an exalted expression to display.
It was a mystery, he said
Or a bleeding heart thriller
All set in tune
To an Edgar Allen Poe chiller.
The Tell Tale Heart
had nothing on them
The heart bump bumping
And the Cask of Amontillado
I could hear the prisoner thump thumping
An hour of this, and then it was
The Fall of the House of Usher
A ghost and a madman
A friend and a sadman
All wound up and painted acrylic sets
The opium dreams of a poet,
Was a minimum budget and a dream
A deep undertone of insanity
And a fragile as glass human theme
It was all there-
A noble local function
All with the means of the
High School Drama Production.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

The Healer

The Healer

The Qi was a gift
To her for the healing
Her hands were warm
To mend the bad feelings
She came to me
With mirror set eyes
And in silence she led
The pain to surmise.


An Ode to the Healers!
The ones with soft hands
Not Phizer or Merck
Johnson and Johnson.
Not the Doctors with blades
Or Nurses in spades
Not the voodoo or hoodoo
Hypothetical parade.

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

The Loon and the Lion

The Loon and the Lion

The people will vote
For a Loon or a Lion
On a near judgement day
For a flag that is lying
Flying away.


There is nothing
Oh nothing
Nothing I can say
To change the course of action
Our country might stray.

And here we are
On the verge of WW3
Won't you
Put down your Obamaphone
And listen

They are sending the troops in today
Yes today
Going to bomb:bomb:bomb

Get that nuke before she cooks
All our hair and good looks
Coming to America
It's the day before
Before she shook.
It's coming
Better not look.


Oh I'm crazy
"Yea. She's crazy."
I was just in the Panamint Valley.
I saw the fly boys-
Yes I did.
Getting ready for war.
"Yea. She's crazy."
Totally Detached.
No one else
Save Alex Jones
Can wear this crazy hat.

Sunday, September 30, 2012

We will witness the climax

I don't know if anyone reads anymore
And I have no feeling for time.
Each day is another page to the novel
I feel I am living in rhyme.
30 days past September
And tomorrow is the First
Only a month after that
The world will know its curse
Will you care?
Will you listen?
Will you watch it on CNN?
Will you laugh, will you cry
Will you jump up and fly
A loud crash in the sky
All your hopes
All your dreams
All the seams in between
Would you even know your prison?

Would you know it to be your cell
When you have GMO cancer
And are living in hell
Will you care?
Will you listen?
Would you even change a thing?
When life is so easy
Obama gives you his money
It's alright, he's just fine
You won't owe him a thing.

Do you care?
Do you listen?
Have you even made it this far?
Do you know which pill
The red or the blue
Or the path to the top of the hill?
They say the suicide's greatest
When life gets too painfully mundane
For what's yours is mine
And what's mine is yours
And we all fit nice in a frame.

But what does it matter.
I am only a number
A statistic with an English name.
A girl to be short
I've never seen war
But I am terrified and ashamed.
For I am scared of what's ahead of us
And ashamed of what's behind
We were promised the best of generations
But what we got was not so kind.

Did you care?
Did you listen?
When you sent us out for facts
We did blue book essays
And SAT brainwaves
ACTS and progress reports
I did quizzes and multiple choice
Took stream samples and learned to use my voice
Did it matter? Did I learn?
No, I don't think a lot.

I got A's and 4.0 ;
I don't remember a thing.
But some person somewhere
got a whole lot of money
From all of my debt miseries.
My histories were all twisted
And science was misted
I didn't know right from wrong.
I couldn't swing a hammer
Or grow what I needed
I guess you could say
I was slow to belong.

30 days past September
And tomorrow is the First.


Monday, September 10, 2012

Back from the wild country

Work hard and save money
Got me thinkin about Alaska honey
So sweet to taste
And grizzly to bear
The wild, it calls
A cold breeze in the air.

A .44 mag to hang at my side
A hatchet to cut, a skipper that flies.
The wild, it calls
And my wolf ears listen
Howl to the night
My knife, oh how it glistens

Work hard and save money
That freedom rings like a bell
Go North
Go North
Go North
It cries.
And in my heart
That spirit does rise!

Saturday, August 4, 2012

A Blog Floating in the Ocean

Almost 7 billion people
Upon this small blue planet
Each one somehow connected
With a digital leash.
Iphones and aps
Macs and raps
Facebook and Myspace
Wired to hellspace
Almost 7 billion people
And here's a poetic note
To what end you may ask
None but my own
Almost 7 billion people
And yet, I feel so alone.

Monday, July 30, 2012

Sitting in the Sand

I happened to wander
On a neat summer's day
To a place I could ponder
Upon a wide open space.
There I rested my thoughts
And sat in the sand
Not seeing much
Just the sun and the land.
Blinded by emotion
My eyes filled with tears
For what I knew not
But it was something I feared.
I had always been told
"You must be strong."
Like there was no other option
Any other option was wrong.
So I tried and I tried
And I tried to carry on.
I read books and ate my vegetables
I lifted weights and overcame obstacles.
I became strong
for the people I loved
For myself, for my sister
For my mother and father.
I became strong
and I learned a good self defense
I taught it to children
It made perfect sense.
But on this day that I wandered
To sit in the sand
Not seeing much
But the sun and the land
I happened to look down
and I saw all of my scars.
And it made me so sad
Because I had gotten so far.
"You must be strong."
Echoed in my head
As I remembered the pain
Even the ones that didn't make sense.
I looked to the sky with tears in my eyes
And I asked, "How can I be strong?"
I've seen things unnatural
And felt hands on me like knives.
I've been raped, I've been beaten
I've been been worked on like a corpse in the night.
I became strong, regardless.
I taught it to children
But it didn't make any sense.
I would stutter and shy
What a hippo crate
What a lie.
"You must be strong."
Even when it doesn't work
Even when all the self-defense in the world
Won't touch against dirt.
So I grabbed a handful of sand
And I sifted it over my scars
I cried and I cried and I cried
Because I remembered the pain.
"You must be strong."
Echoed its annoyance
For myself, for my sister
For my mother and father.
The sand didn't cover that pink
Stretch of skin.
I guess when you hurt it so much
It rolls right off again.
And that's when I learned
Today sitting in the sand
That all of the pain in the world
Can't by buried again.
"You must be strong."
Still haunts me like an echo.

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Isn't time something
a bit like a tickle
you laugh hard at first
but then it gets fickle

Wouldn't it be nice
if life was a pickle
Not too sweet; not to sour
A bit in the middle

it comes, it goes, this I know oh oh

I have not much to live by
And less that I can call my own
We are all but small stories
Underneath the skin and bone.

This I know, this I know oh oh.

When we are dead and buried
The stories will be your own.
To whose ear will hear
The triumphs and angels playing thrones.

It comes, it comes, this I know oh oh.

For the grass cares little
But for the blowing of the wind
And your neighbor's ears are fickle
In and out again.
A friendly cat might prance on by
And lift a sassy tail to air
But upon the hearing of your story
Would stop, flirt and flair.

It goes away and comes again, this I know oh oh.

You could tell your friend
The stories you were able
 But to them would be response
As if it were a fable.

It goes it goes, this I know oh oh.

And should our lives come to war or famine
And the stories turn from dirt and glutton
And crows feet come
To your eyes like beggars
This I know, this I know
The poets, preachers and painters
Are all but the same
And water comes freely from the river
Blood within your veins.
The truth will flow but only a little
To the prudish and disdain.

Saturday, March 24, 2012

Me an Chad :D

The Four Storks

There were four great storks
That came from the north
Circled round my head
And settled thus forth.
Where do you come from?
I asked in denial
For surely such birds
Come but from the Nile
And the eldest of which
Had a beak long as time
Gave a long quivered "KA!"
And a toothless old smile.
We come from the Earth
He said, with small squinty eyes
We are the beginning of time.
When the universe converged,
we were the rhyme.
What did he say? I was caught unawares
I was staring at their wing span
A citizen unprepared.
We are but the seasons.
Winter is my name.
Spring is the youngest of us all
And Summer is the most tame.
If you want to see our colors,
Fall is the one to ask.
His plumage is of rainbows
A very noble task.
Baffled as much
By the talk and the banter
I looked upon the birds
And gave a bit of laughter
So why do you fly here
Of all places.
There is nothing for you here.
Old man winter has no season
And your tame summer has no fear.
Spring is but a faded thought
Like an antique picture
Lost and bought.
Fall came once to show his feathers
But lost them all
In a casino measure.
So I ask again old stork
For there is no use for you now.
Why do you come, and how?

It was not for your eyes
Or your eyes alone.
We come to take our nature back
For true beginnings are our throne.
Time it seems
Has forgot to turn
And your eyes it seems
Doth burn and yearn.
For something though you know not what
Something you forgot
Something you never bought.
And here we stand
Four storks on the fence.
One North, One South
One East, One West.
We are the direction.
We are the way.
We are the measure time forgot.
That you led astray.

Thursday, February 16, 2012


When your lying on your death bed
Atop stacks of gold piled high
Will you care whats beneath you
Or where your priorities lie
When all that's behind you
Lays buried in snow
And all that's in front
Is black and unknown.

Who's hand will you hold
Not the piles of gold.
Not the weeds in the garden
Or flowers in the snow.
The hand that you seek
will be too broken to show
Crying somewhere lonely
Deep in the acid soil
For which you sowed.

Don't let what's important
Whither black and grow cold
Lest the eve's final moments
Leeks acid from their seeds.
And the great size of your heart
Which I know to exist
Dies bitter and scared
Unloved and unaware.

Friday, January 27, 2012

poetic thoughts

the shadows of the world that lay
will pass
and on one morning the light of day will rise
at last.


ode to a pot of boiling beans
worried that it would boil over
instead i can home
to the smell of burning.
ironic- the thought of the water
that needed pouring
charred the bodies
without the agua roaring.


tiny little kitty
shakes her tail like so
looks at me
keen green eyes
giving me a show

what does she want?
i pence to please
bats her eyes
licks her tail
little pink paws
daftly still
so frail

waltzing up on the table
upon which
she's not really able
pushes me her eats.

why she wants nothing but the
2 calorie
Medley Temptation treats!

Thank you WalMart
for your supply
the cheap and affordable
little kitty prize.


je suis fatigue.
bon nuit mes amis.
au revoir

*bows low*
*exits stage right. * lmao

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

A love poem for my friends

I go back to those moments
The memories we shared
Each time I feel lonely
Each time I feel scared.

I go back to those moments
We were riding so high
With my gelding and your mare
Over the dunes we did fly.
Leather bridles
and faux fur hats
We were the coolest cowgirls
You ever did pass.

Or do you remember
Sitting under the trees
Cherry blossoms falling
All around us were leaves.
How we laughed and we sketched
And the sun was just right
We'd dream on forever
Even through the night.

Then there was you
the Elusive Guide I grew to know
Growing up was the hardest
when our hearts were covered in snow.
Some fateful storm
pushed us together
And when the crying was passed
it was your smiles that made it better.

Yet another I know
Is way out in Georgia.
Stronger than most
I adore her so much
Uncle Sam came calling
and she did what was right
She put on those boots
And marched into the night.
Oh how I miss her
We used to sing
Cry up at the moon
Hear the echoes ring.

One is set on a boat over the ocean
A sailor's heart
Gave her great premonition
Eyes like the waves
Ever crashing against the rocks
I remember talking
and how in talking I would get lost.
For the Ocean is so grand
I can not comprehend
The depths that she wanders
Or the ropes she doth tend.

Even the one's I am forgetting to mention
Hold a place in my heart
This is intention.
I remember it all
My feelings deplored
Take the good with the bad
And my heart doth soar.
I see much love in my life
And for that I do pray
Not for the religion of all
But for religion the same.

May you all be strong
And weather this storm.
Nothing is forever.
I pray your hearts to soar.

And if ever you need
A guiding hand for the road
Won't you look up to the stars
And remember this moment
Remember the feeling
Of what we did know
And hold it close as you can
And don't ever let it go.