MINERS_POETRY

MINING COMPANY

Ole Lance went up the creek to pan
some gold.
When he got there the water was cold.
It didn't matter to him, you see.
Ole Lance was as tough as can be.
He jumped right in clear up to his knees
and began to shovel like a busy bee.
He filled his sluice box to the brim,
and on his face he had a silly little grin.
He knew this time he was going to win.
He shoveled dirt as fast as he could go.
Yep, your right, there was no gold.
Well maybe a little flake or two.
Just enough to let you know Ole
Lance isn't through. He's
still ready to go!
E.L.T.
4/24/97

The Willow

I was up at Light's Creek
panning for gold.
I went right where Myrna told me to
go.
I shoveled here, I shoveled there.
I shoveled almost everywhere.

Then, it seems to me I heard
a little willow tree say,
"Come over here and dig my way."
So, I went over, and I dug a hole,
and sure enough, I found this little
piece of gold!

Ed Tourville

The Mountain
There is a mountain in front of me I
have to climb.
What will be on the other side?
Will it be something I need?
Will it be something I want to mine,
or will it be just for greed.
I know there are valleys I will have
to go through,
Will I go by myself or will you go
too?
In the valleys are meadows, brookes
and streams.
They make life peaceful and sarene.
They give a man hope when he is in
despair.
So you see mountains are not so bad
no matter which side you are on.
Just give each other the strength to go
on.

Eddie Tourville
3/19/98

My House
My house is no longer a home. You
see my partner left
me alone. Oh! It is still a place where I
eat and
sleep. And it is a place where I hang
my hat.
But what good is a place that's empty?
With no more sweet hands to pat.
Our home was so happy, but God
saw fit to take her home. One
thing I'm sure of, she is seated
at God's throne. Oh! No more
hurts and sorrow and no
more aching bones. I'm
sure God Loves her,
that's why He took
her home.

Ed Tourville
In honour of "Mary" God bless.

What Ed
Tourvilles' poem
"The Willow" does
not say, is that Ed
also asked his
lovely wife to
marry him and the
same day, He
found the nugget
under the rock
Myrna was sitting
on.

Digging For Gold
(Gordon Kennedy/Wayne Kirkpatrick)

They married on a fancy yacht out on the
water
He knew she was young enough to be
his daughter
There always questions in the heart of
millionaires
Would she make heartfelt promises if the
money was not there

And he said, do you love me, baby, do
you want me to hold
Or are you just digging for gold
Do you care enough to give me your
heart and soul
Or are you just digging for gold

She ran his weary heart through the ringer
And she wore him like the diamond ring
around her finger
Well, his advances and affections, she
managed to avoid
But, she got the lap of luxury and he got
paranoid

And he said, do you love me, baby, do
you want me to hold
Or are you just digging for gold
Do you care enough to give me your
heart and soul
Or are you just digging for gold, digging
for gold

Big house, limousines,
Fine wines, fine cuisines,
Vale and Vegas twice a year,
Trips to Paris on the leer

Black Tuesday when that wall of wealth
came crashing down
Bad news day when that little queen had
to give back her crown
And he said, hey babe, we can live on
love cuz love is worth much more
But he barely got his feelings out, she
was half way to the door
And she never even heard him cry

Do you love me, baby, do you want me
to hold
Or are you just digging for gold
Do you care enough to give me your
heart and soul
Or are you just digging for gold

Words to a friend

Big words to a friend don't
mean
very much
but oh just a smile a wink or
just
a small touch.
This lets them know your
friendship is real, this lets
them
know just how you feel.

When they do or say
something
wrong, and you don't agree,
just stop and think, what if this
were me?

Would I say "Oh it's alright,
just
let it be. We are still the best
of
friends you and me!

Ed L. Tourville
3/8/98

This poem is for my mother
As special as she can be. She is my mother.
The one who helped my dad raise me.
The years have come and gone,
but, fond memories will linger on.
We had days of sorrow and
days of joy. She became my mother
when I was a little boy. I remember her laughing,
when she should be sad. She was the kind of mother
who made your heart glad.
She is now in heaven,
sitting at God's throne,
I know she is happy in her
new home.

Ed Tourville

End Of The Blues
Searching for you.

One day I walked along a
lonely road.
I didn't know where it
would go.
It seemed I was bearing
such a heavy load.
As I walked down that
lonely road.

I walked down that road it
seemed forever.
I thought the end would
come, no never.

Then one day I met you
and now my journey is
thru. I hope this will be
the end of the blues.
Ed Tourville

INDIAN VALLEY BUFFALO

Well, I guess it was back in ’63
When eatin’ my cookin’ got the better of me,
So I asked this little girl I was goin’ with to be my wife.
Well, she said she would, so I said "I do".
But I’da said I wouldn’t if I’da just knew
How sayin’ "I do" was gonna screw up all of my life!

Well, the first few years weren’t all that bad –
I’ll never forget the good times we had
Cause I’m reminded every month when I send her the child support.
Well, it wasn’t too long till the lust all died,
And I’ll admit I wasn’t too surprised
The day I come home and found my suitcase sittin’ out on the porch.

Well, I tried to get in – she changed the locks!
Then I found this note taped on the mailbox
That said, "Goodbye, turkey! My attorney will be in touch!" Mm-hmm…
So I decided right then and there
I’s gonna do what’s right – give her her fair share.
But brother – I didn’t know her share’s gon’ be THAT much!

She got the gold mine! She got the gold mine!
I got the shaft. I got the shaft.
They split it right down the middle,
And then they give her the better half.
Well, it all sounds sorta funny,
But it hurts too much to laugh.
She got the gold mine - I got the sha-a-aft.

Now, listen – you ain’t heard nothin’ yet:
Why, they give her the color television set,
Then they give her the house, the kids, and both of the cars! See?
Well, then they start talkin’ ‘bout child support,
Alimony, and the cost of the court –
Didn’t take me long to figure out how far in the toilet I was!

I’m tellin’ ya, they have made a mistake
Cause it adds up to more than this cowboy makes!
Besides; everything I ever had worth takin’, they’ve already took!
While she’s livin’ like a queen on alimony,
I’m workin’ two shifts eatin’ baloney,
Askin’ myself, "Why didn’t you just learn how to cook?!?!"

They give her the gold mine! She got the gold mine!
They give me the shaft. I got the shaft.
They said they’re splittin’ it all down the middle,
But she got the better half.
Well, it all sounds mighty funny,
But it hurts too much to laugh.
She got the gold mine - I got the sha-a-aft.

Well, she got the gold mine! She got the gold mine!
I got the shaft. I got the shaft.
They split it all down the middle,
And then they give her the better half.
Well, I guess it all sounds funny, Hoo, hoo, hoo, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
But it hurts too much to laugh.
She got the gold mine - I got the sha-a-aft.
(They ain’t kiddin’ me – I got the shaft.)

Well, I don’t have to worry ‘bout totin’ a billfold n’more.
Hahahahaha…
I let my wife tote it; I’mon’ be carryin’ food stamps –
You get it, judge? I’mon’ be… Just… Hahahaha…
Ah, it’s not funny, huh? Huh? Huh?
Contempt of court? Whaddaya mean?
Listen, judge: I’s just kiddin’!

I have climbed my mountain. I am on the
other side.
The woman I love is to be another mans bride.
I wish them well in all that they do.
If it is God's will, He will see them through.
They will have their mountains and valleys
too, but if they walk together, they will make
it through.

Love is not selfish, it is share and share alike.

Kind of like balancing a two-seated bike.
Love is a precious gift not too many people
share.
It is even more precious if Jesus is there.
ELT
4/31/96

A house on a hill

I built a house on a hill if it
hasn't fallen, it is there still.
I built of stone, so it would be
strong, I hope I didn't build it
wrong.

I used sand and cement to hold
it together, I wanted it to stand
through the stormy weather.

When the wind began to blow
and the rain began to come
down, I thought for sure it
would fall to the ground.

When the storm was over, and
sun began to shine, I went
outside to see what I could find.

The house was still standing, as
strong as could be!!

Eddie Tourville
10/19/03

Was back in 48
When it first hit the headlines
And everybody went crazy
I felt that gold fever burn
And I knew that I had to set out
On epic journey

I could make it overland
Walk those wagon trains
Or maybe catch me a clipper
And sail the Spanish Main
But I knew one thing for certain
There was no easy way
To get the gold in California

I got the gold rush
heading way out west
I got the gold rush
Uh huh

Dreaming of gold mines of fortune and
fame
I was eager for action hot for the game
I took to the road on that old Oregon
Trail
Determined to make it
Hell - I just couldn't fail
A year down line half dead with hunger
and thirst
I crawled into Jackson
I was over the worst
I went panning for gold from morning
till night
When I wasn't drinking gambling
whorin and pickin fights

I got the gold rush
Surely make you lose your mind
I got the gold rush
Uh huh
Get out there and dig that mine
I got the gold rush
Uh huh

The miners around me were dropping
like flies
But thank god I hit paydirt I captured
my prize
The worst that I got was a dose of the
pox
And now I'm a banker I'm dealing in
stocks
Well I finally made it - got my fortune
and fame
Hey Maybe you know me - Will Fargo's
the name
But the world has moved on from Wild
West of old
On Wall Street now the bankers they
mine data not gold

Life in the fast lane
Surely make you lose your mind
Life in the fast lane
Uh huh
Life in the fast lane
Wheelin and dealin all the time
Life in the fast lane uh huh

I Got the Gold Rush
"Life in the Fast Lane" Based on the
performance
by The Eagles
"I Got the Gold Rush" Parody by
MarthaDTox

They married on a fancy yacht out on
the water
He knew she was young enough to be
his daughter
There always questions in the heart of
millionaires
Would she make heartfelt promises if
the money was not
there
And he said, do you love me, baby, do
you want me to hold
Or are you just digging for gold
Do you care enough to give me your
heart and soul
Or are you just digging for gold
She ran his weary heart through the
ringer
And she wore him like the diamond
ring around her finger
Well, his advances and affections, she
managed to avoid
But, she got the lap of luxury and he
got paranoid
And he said, do you love me, baby, do
you want me to hold
Or are you just digging for gold
Do you care enough to give me your
heart and soul
Or are you just digging for gold,
digging for gold
Big house, limousines,
Fine wines, fine cuisines,
Vale and Vegas twice a year,
Trips to Paris on the leer
Black Tuesday when that wall of wealth
came crashingdown
Bad news day when that little queen
had to give back hercrown
And he said, hey babe, we can live on
love cuz love is worthmuch more
But he barely got his feelings out, she
was half way to thedoor
And she never even heard him cry
Do you love me, baby, do you want me
to hold
Or are you just digging for gold
Do you care enough to give me your
heart and soul
Or are you just digging for gold
---(Gordon Kennedy/Wayne
Kirkpatrick)---

My Grandfather worked underground,
owning a
coal mine in Colorado for awhile, as a
superintendent on the Aqueduct,
Hoover, Coulee
and other dams and diversion tunnels
and
tunneling and Reclamation projects.
He worked
most the time for our Government but I
feel his
heart was always with those doing the
dirty work
and was never above getting into the
“muck”
himself. He was also a poet and here
are some of
his miner's poems from his book, “THE
AQUEDUCT”.

THE WIDE CANYON TUNNEL CAVE-IN
(The story of an actual occurrence at
Wide Canyon)

Standing grimly, dark mouth yawning;
Stretching far 'neath mountain's crest;
Days are marked by no bright dawning
Where the tunnel hides its breast.

Timbers large, great rocks upholding,
Steel and crown bars keyed and
blocked;
Wedge and foot blocks hold unfolding,
Myst'ries Mother Earth has locked.

But as Nature, in great fury
At the secrets from her torn,
Manmade structures break and
crumble;
Of their strength she shows her scorn.

Creak! Snap! Shouts! A roar! A
grinding!
Dust and ground stench fill the air!
Strong men flee! A safe place finding,
From the dangers hidden there!

Lights are gone! The darkness
smothers!
Matches flicker through the haze!
Names are called! Each thinks of
others
As they stagger from the maze!

One man missing? Tom McColgan
Is he caught beneath that fall?
Was poor Tom buried as he ran?
Surely they could hear him call!

But at last there comes faint tapping,
From that fallen mass of ground!
Listen closely! Hear that rapping?
That's old Tom a moving 'round!

For Dame Nature, through some error,
Left a place for Tom to hide!
And though he was weak with terror,
Soon he crawled to the outside.

But this story has an ending,
Different far from one you've read,
With a cheerful color lending
To a tale of fearsome dread.

Tom lay dreaming of a cave-in,
In the quiet of his room,
When into his mind sub-conscious,
Came the rending crack of doom!

Slipped to floor from bedclothes,
groaning;
Crawling there on hands and knees;
Frightened! Searching! Feeling!
Moaning!
Lost in dreamland's mysteries.

Craw led three times 'tween chairs and
table,
Bumped his head against the trunk!
Blindly searched for light or cable;
Even crawled beneath the bunk!

Found a hammer near the doorway,
Crashed his way through plaster wall!
And at last emerged in safety
In the dormitory hall!

THE HONOR ROLL

Here’s a toast to the army that built it,

To workers from river to town,

To the men and even the women

Who toiled, caring naught for renown.
To the men who were called foolish
dreamers,

Or men who climbed mountains and
vales

And traveled the drear, desert spaces,

0’er lonely and seldom trod trails.
To the supers, the walkers and shifters

Who urged as the battle was fought.

To the men who toiled in the headings,

To danger ne’er giving a thought.
To the draftsmen who just drew the
pictures,

Or totaled the costs day by day;

To the men who planned and directed
The job as it moved on its way.
To the boys who pushed only the
mucksticks;

To the crews who dished out the chuck;

To the men who kept the wheels rolling

In tunnels, in power house and truck.
To the men suff’ring pain, hurt or
maiming;

Long hours behind hospital walls.

To the whiteclad doctors and nurses

Who eased other’s pain in their calls.
And a pause in the toast we are
drinking,

With a prayer for pals who are gone,

That The Great Master Workman in
Heav’n

Pays well for the job they have done!

TEAMWORK ON THE AQUEDUCT

(The Miner’s Viewpoint.)

“Say, there ain’t much use in talkin’,”

Said the Gunner to the boss,

“Them engineers is nu’sances

An’ they sure would be a loss

If they had to drive a headin’

With a transit an’ a rod.”

“Guess we know which way we’re goin’,

Jest a candle an’ a sight;

We know when track ain’t level,

When the tunnel, it is tight

Without no guy in fancy pants

A measurin’ with a rod.”

“They jest stand around in bunches

With their pencils an’ it’s great,

How they tells us guys that knows how

How to drive the tunnels straight,

When they peek an’ point their fingers

Through a transit at a rod,”

(The Engineer’s Idea.)

“There are sometimes when I wonder ,”

Said the lanky engineer,

“Why those guys up in the headings

Have a job and labor here.

For they sure have missed their calling

Driving tunnel on a line.”

“If it wasn’t for my transit,

And me shooting line and grade,

They would wander through the
mountains

Here and there without my aid,

And they’d pass the other heading

Somewhere east or west of here.”

“But with level and with transit

And a backsight and a rod,

I strive to keep the tunnel straight

I’m a sort of human god.

But it keeps our pencils busy

Helping miners hold their jobs.”

JUST ONE MORE COALMINERS
DAUGHTER

Another Coalminer’s Daughter (and
Son)
Has Heart and Soul beneath the
Ground
With Tears and Hopes and Prayers
That their lost Daddies will be Found.

Hoping for some great Miracle
Not only Found, but Safe and Well
One more Escape from the Hazards
That Stories and the Folklore tell.

A Dangerous Job at its best
And for some the only one
To take care of their Family
It’s one Chore that Must be Done.

We all know the Historical
Of the company town and store
Some say those days are gone??
But, it’s known they could do More.

The wages for the "Muckers" (look it
up)
And those Men who run the Drills
May be Paid a little More
But, the Lack of Safety still Kills.

The Bureau of Mines (and Safety)
Although they have done much good
Like most all federal agencies
Not Half, nearly what they should.

So the Money, buying favors
Flows much faster than the Ore
To protect the mining companies
From the Pimp, to the real Whore.

The preceding written Tuesday
before the erroneous news and sad
truth

After the news they were found alive
I'm adding this this morning
From joyful, happy, jubilation
To the pain and tears and mourning.

How could this have happened?
Why was the good news so wrong?
And though some knew about it
Why did the truth take so long?

Then there is the rage and anger
That has come a bit too late
About all the safety violations
That have sealed those Miners Fate.

If the officials with the power
From Fed, State, or Company
Had fulfilled their obligations
They could have stopped this tragedy.

If the men themselves had complained
They probably would have been let go
But what could those violations cost?
Well sadly now, we all know.

Just another of those lessons learned
(Though we all know that isn't so)
Soon it will be the same ol' same
To guarantee the money flow.

Lives are cheap and expendable
When it comes to the bottom line
Seems it's always been and will be
For those folks down in the Mine.

Del "Abe" Jones
White Bluff, TN
01-04-2006

EASY MONEY!
(Jack Hill’s Rule For Digging Holes.)
Here’s a tale for the sons of old Erin,
Who have made the world brighter by
far,
With the bits of their wit an’ their darin’
Than it could be from moonlight an’
star.
‘Twas a brave broth o’ man with the
riggin’
Of a lineman with irons an’ straps,
By a bit of a hole he was diggin’
With a groundman’s mucksticks an’ his
traps.
With a quirk of a smile said old “Top
Deck,”
As he turned with a query to Jack,
“I’ll wager two bucks from my paycheck
I’ve a nut here that you cannot crack! “
“You’ve traveled the world! Learned
the lineman’s game!
And you’ve clambered up many a pole;
But here is the bet! That you cannot
name
The easy foot to dig of a hole! “
Just a split second Jack scratched at
his pate,
Then he grinned with an Irishman’s
might.
“Be Jabers! I’m thinkin’ ye’re badly
bate!
If ye’ve dug holes ye’ll .know I’m dead
right! “
“The top six inches av a hole is play
An’ I stop when the diggin’ gets tough;
Look down at the last six inches an’ say
‘Hell! Let ‘er go! She’s down dape
enough!’ “

MONUMENTS
His monument stands in a city’s square,
Where the thousands who pass may
read
Of a fortune made in the marts of trade
Or of wartimes’ valorous deed.
And the world is told of the great man’s
worth,
As on brass is his graven name;
While the marble, fair, will long years
stand there
As a mark of a great man’s fame.
My monument stands in the hills, away
From the rush of the speeding throng.
There are few who care as they
wander there,
Of years that were weary and long.
But with pride I toiled in the tunnels,
where
Hidden deep from the sight of man,
A battle was fought, a victory bought”
By those of that laboring clan.
And what has been cast through
decades will last,
And I’ll know when my day is done,
My work there will tell that I builded well,
Though my name is not in its stone.
And monument fair, in the city’s square
Is worthless by mine it does seem,
While God’s blessings pour through the
mountain’s bore
Each day in a thirst quenching stream.

"Hangtown gals are plump and rosy
Hair in ringlets mighty cozy
Painted cheeks and jossy bonnets
Touch them and they'll sting like hornets
Hangtown gals are lovely creatures
Think they'll marry Mormon preachers
Heads thrown back to show their features
Ha, ha, ha, Hangtown gals!
They're dreadful shy of 49ers
Turn up their noses at the miners. "Hangtown Gals"

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DEER CREEK FALLS

MINERS POETRY

SLUICING AND TUNNEL MINING

Sourdough Bread(Recipe)
From The Stampede, And Tales of the
Far West

"This is a genuine recipe to teach you
the method of making sourdough or
cowboy bread. While it is told in verse,
nevertheless you obtain full
instructions by it. Try it. Don’t forget
the soda."
The next time you make yeast dough
bread, just cut you out a hunk.
‘Tis good for making sourdough cakes,
a good sized little chunk.
‘Tis also good for biscuits, place it in a
bowl or pot,
And cover it with water, keep it cool
and not too hot.
It will keep fermenting if you let it stand
all night
Behind the stove; and in the morning it
will be just right.
If you keep it warm at night, the morn
will find it sour;
Add some salt and water, then a
pound or two of flour.
Mix it good and knead it down, for
biscuits, cakes, or dough;
And let it work until it bubbles for a day
or so.
Now it’s ready once again for adding in
some flour;
Work and knead it till it’s smooth, for
maybe half an hour.
Thin it out for flapjacks, or flour,--to
make it thick;--
For better bread, the more you knead
will kind of turn the trick.
Place it where the sun will strike it, say
an hour or two,
And when it rises once again, your
trouble will be through.
Don’t forget the soda now, a half
spoon or so
To counteract the acid, now your
ready for the dough.
Get your oven good and hot, and bake
it in a pan.
But, ‘fore you do so, save a piece to
start your dough again.
Watch your fire and oven, for they
mustn’t be too hot.
If it cooks too fast you’re almost bound
to spoil the lot.
Let it bake till turning brown, and then
a trifle more;
But watch it close, if baking fast, and
open up the door.
The time you take is not so bad, when
all is done and said;
For there is nothing tastes as good as
home made sourdough bread.

-Powder River Jack Lee
From The Stampede, And Tales of the
Far West
by Powder River Jack Lee
Published by Standardized Press,
Greensburg, Pa.
No copyright date, but the book was
autographed by Power River Jack
himself and dated Dec. 2, 1941.

Vera Queen of the Canyon

The ways of affection are funny
But I guess that there’s no set rule
About things that we find in this life to
love
I fell in love with a mule.

She’s high-headed big and so pretty
She always looks shiny and clean
Like a teacher in school she bossed all
the mules
And acted the part of the queen.

It was my luck to always be gettin’
Mules that had grown short and wide
Till I kept on naggin’ my boot heels
were draggin’
Then they gave me ol’ Vera to ride.

That day the boss said sorta friendly
"I know that you’ll always be kind
To Vera the queen of the Canyon,
That trail goin’ mule of mine."

Well we worked on that long trail
together
Through the dust, the heat and the
rain,
Just a one man mule and a one mule
man
Partners no matter what came.

Guiding those mules back to Pilgrim
She grew more gentle and kind
Till she got in the mood started packin’
a dude
And the boss said "boy that’s fine."

One day when the thunder was poppin’
Like hell broke loose in the skies
And the wind at our slickers a floppin’
There wasn’t a one of us dry.

Out front was me and ol’ Vera
Leadin’ them mules on home,
I swear that I couldn’t help feelin’
Like a cowboy king on a throne.

We all heard the five o’clock whistle,
It sounded so sad and forlorn.
A lady said "Guide, is that the river
boat ride?"
I said "That is Gabriel’s horn."

That started the buds into laughin’
Though the shivers they couldn’t
restrain,
With soggy straw hats and sore where
they sat
Still they was glad that they came.

Now that’s about all of this story,
She learned to pack dudes to a tee.
When she grows old I hope that she’s
sold
To no one but my boss and me.

Somewhere there’s a big grassy
pasture
With water and shade all the time,
For Vera the queen of the Canyon
That trail goin’ mule of mine.

-Ed Steele

Francis Kerr Young
Coal Miners
Deep in the dark, tunnelling like a mole,
and miles above are blue mountains and
trees.
Digging out tons of West Virginian coal,
chancing black lung and coal damp in that
hole, miners sweat away their lives on their
knees deep in the dark, tunnelling like a
mole.
Instead of cool morning mists to extol
this clean land, ebon dust just makes one
sneeze,
digging out tons of West Virginian coal.
Hills echo calls; finch, wren, and oriole,
yet caged canaries sing sweet as you please
deep in the dark. Tunnelling like a mole, the
miner slaves to his stern master, ol' King
Coal, carving that seam into a frieze digging
out tons of West Virginian coal.
Pit props creaking must crush each miner's
soul: Courage for a dollar all the time he's
deep in the dark, tunnelling like a mole,
digging out tons of West Virginian coal!

Folks at Golden Girl,
Men and women who seek out the wilds alone also seek into
themselves for understanding. Miner poetry, what a cool idea.
Thanks,
William Aranda.

The Dowager at Jack London Tavern
Well, she’s here, again, drinking beer, again. She can still enchant, so’s best don’t look straight at her. From her
barstool throne, you might take‘er home, she gets drunk enough, she’ll let some damn fool ask‘er.
Ah, but she was once a queen, and gentlemen would dream that for just one kiss, they’d give‘er the weeks
wages. Then was, “Champagne, Dear?” now they buy her beer. Shame, not every vintage sweetens as it ages.
Still dreams of her young man who took‘er by the hand, in this very room, ‘sbeen years and years ago. Shared the
maiden bed, swore that they’d be wed. Aye, but the family name just would not have it so.
So, she’s here, again, drinking beer, again. Buy the house a round then stand a round on me. We’ll drink to
loyalty, she’s barroom royalty, ‘cause if she’s just a tramp, then, what the hell are we?

Wm.Aranda

Earthworms
Didn’t really seem to matter when the rain’d begun to fall
When the feet inside my boots got soaken wet
Such things is incidental when a man is occupied
Busy walken, busy tryen to forget.
On my back and on my shoulders, pounding spitballs of the storm
Passing trucks slap dirty water on my face
Me and earthworms in the potholes, we’d abandoned like for like
It don’t matter where you go, you can’t escape.
W. Aranda

Ciana
______________

As I sleep in my siesta
sweet intrusions all along
random thoughts of days Ciana
sang her fleeting summer song.

"Seven sleepy suns shall set themselves upon the skies
while we sleep on desert sands, soft carressing, trading lies".

Now I rest against my cactus, straw sombrero shades my eyes
soft serape tight about me and I breathe in shallow sighs

for as I sleep in my siesta
sweet intrusions all along
random thoughts of days Ciana
sang her fleeting summer song.

Twigs
______________

You admire its singular beauty,
the singular twig on a vast tree branch.

All are vain, so sometimes the twig forgets.
The life that sustains the twig also nourished
the branch
and is given by the tree that created them
both.

All are vain, so sometimes your finger forgets.
As the twig is still the branch, the branch the
tree,
your finger is till you, who are of God.