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There's a tale that is told
In the night Yukon cold
Of the shooting of Dan Mc Grew

The truth as it's known
Is a legend that's grown
And the truth is known by very few

It's twenty years on
The Malamutes gone
There's nobody left from that night

But there's talk of some gold
That sometimes is told
Of what happened just after the fight

There is word of a bar
"The New Yukon Star"
And a fellow down there who can play

The place it is grand
The best in the land
And it's found down by Old Frisco Bay

Now, remember the poke
Of McGrew's the tale spoke
And what happened when Dan was now dead

From his neck it was freed
And the poke held the deed
To Dangerous Dan's claim it was said

When the Northern lights glow
Bringing life to the snow
They say that old Dan walks again

But twenty years past
Dan took that breath, yes, his last
And left the world of mortal men

Now, the saloon down in Frisco
With a barkeep named Cisco
Had a picture of Dan on the wall

They say that his ghost
Makes it smile when you toast
Dan McGrew when it is last call

A traveller came
And remembered Dan's name
One night as he sat with his drink

The piano was loud
And he saw through the crowd
A face, which made the man think

He once was a cop
And on occasion did stop
At the bar when Dan McGrew died

He looked at the face
But wasn't sure of the place
That he knew it, but **** boys he tried

There's a place saved in hell
For those under the spell
Of those who cheated out old Dan McGrew

In the stories it's told
how his poke with his gold
Was stolen by someone he knew

Think of the name
Of the one living with shame
From Dan's last night beneath the north star

Just who could build
A place always filled
A hotel and a popular bar

There on the stair
With long silvery hair
Through cigar smoke that made the air blue

Was the girl who once danced
And had Dan entranced
The girl known only as Lou
You can hear them if you listen
When the wind blows in the night
The people who once lived here
Who are gone now, out of sight

The buildings, many shuttered
Housed ten thousand at it's peak
Now empty, vacant, skeltons
Once vibrant, now, so bleak

Silver once was mined nearby
Thousands flocked here for the chance
To strike it rich, be wealthy
Uninvited to the dance

For all that comes with promise
The devil comes as well
With money comes temptations
As the small town starts to swell

Business and homesteads
Spring up where once was none
Lawlessness is rampant
The law is by the gun

Saloons, hotels, and harlots
Soapbox preachers, grab your purse
We all cannot be winners
That is just the boom towns curse

Like a zephyr in the desert
A boom town changes in a flash
Prosperity will vanish
And so does all the cash

The boom town dies as quickly
As a flower in the snow
Scattered now back homeward
With nothing left to show

The earth takes all she's given
The buildings may still stand
But, the mines are all now empty
There's no value to this land

Listen to the voices
The wind let's them sing out
You can hear them in the darkness
That's when the locals all come out

A ghost town is a relic
It shows the best and worst of man
So, listen to the wind now
Hear their stories if you can
Sitting 'neath an apple tree
In Edmond, Oklahoma
Thinking of the days gone by
And drinking my Corona

Body beat all black and blue
I've had less ups than I've downs
I guess that's just all that I get
As an old time rodeo clown

Should I say another season?
Is it worth what I will get?
Money, pain and broken bones
Those not broken yet

I've been gored by bulls in Texas
Stomped real hard in Abilene
But, I got my worst **** beating
By my ex, named Bobbie Jean

With a bull you see it coming
You just get out of the way
But Bobbie Jean sideswiped me
And I'll not forget that day

Put on some clown makeup
Some baggy pants, the game is on
But, I came home from one junket
And Bobbie Jean had up and gone

I wasn't set to find this
Fell in a bottle for a week
It wasn't bad she left me
It's that she took my hound dog, Zeke

That hurt more than any beating
I may have taken in the ring
I can take the biggest brahma
And the bruises it may bring

But, Bobbie Jean done hurt me
Blind sided me you'd say
I know I'll not forgive her
For taking my dog Zeke away

Now, I sit and ponder
One more empty by my side
Am I fit enough to stay here?
Can I stay for one last ride?

I know it's a sad story
Of a clown whose heart got broke
But beneath the colored face paint
I'm just an aging, sore cowpoke

So I sit beneath this fruit tree
In Edmond, Oklahoma
Pondering my future
As I drink one more Corona.
How do you describe
I'm not sure that you can
Truly find the words for
A Renaissance Man

I woke up this morning
Saw the paper, he was dead
Renaissance Man
Popped into my head

Rebel against the standard
Rage not causing pain
Live a life worth living
Like Anthony Bourdain

Teacher, writer, critic
Chef, student and man
Philosopher and cleric
A grown up Peter Pan

Question those around you
Learn, and share the wealth
Be a Renaissance Man to others
Don't keep your knowledge on the shelf

Demons, we all have them
Don't feed them, for they breed
Doubt into existence
Dark demons need to feed

Live life, avoid the shadows
Share and then go share again
Don't end up on a headline
Fight the urge, count to ten

Today, I read a headline
A Renaissance Man out of pain
I guess we never really knew him
Rest gentle Sir Boudain
Today I took a journey
Didn't know what I would find
I didn't venture far though
I just went inside my mind

To some it is intriguing
To see just what I think
I don't go in too far though
I just stay on the brink

Ideas are here a plenty
Each one a flower all in bloom
But, some are hard to capture
And others need some room

A garden full of promise
Self censored, quite aloof
Watered down and milky
Because, you can not face the truth

A bolt of liquid lightning
Sometimes escapes to the air
It gets past all the fences
And lands, god knows where

Thoughts that circle wildly
Cross the line away from light
Thoughts somehow unfocused
That leave me screaming in the light

The word pictures I paint now
Are the ones you want to read
The ones I leave inside me
I don't know just where they lead

Distractions all around me
Squirrel!!!....there's one now
I focus but it's hard to
I can not explain how

I hide away the anger
Leave some thoughts alone to die
I can't put them down on paper
I wouldn't even try

I listen to the voices
I let some of them come out
Others, I hide from
Those are full of doubt

My mind, it is a theater
I'm the only one on stage
Talk about a tough room
A lion, lost inside it's cage

I'm not saying it's crazy
Because, deep down I know I'm fine
But, I can see the journey into madness
Is just one toe over the line

Today, I took a journey
And I seem to have a knack
Of talking to the voices
And letting them talk back
I wake up every morning
It always starts the same
Trying to remember yesteday
It's just part of the game

Lord, I can't go on not remembering last night
I can't keep livin' hard I must confess
Lord, I 'm here to say I'm not drinking anymore
But, then again, I ain't drinking any less

I'm not drinking anymore
I'm not drinking any less
I'm tired of sleeping on the floor
My life is one hot mess

A room of empty bottles
Ashtrays full up to the brink
I look at them and all I feel
Is that I need another drink

This can't go on forever
I can't deal with all the stress
I'm not drinking anymore
But, I ain't drinking any less

Lord, I can't go on not remembering last night
I can't keep livin' hard I must confess
Lord, I 'm here to say I'm not drinking anymore
But, then again, I ain't drinking any less
whatever floats yer boat
paint a picture
sing a song
even write a note
just get out
and tell yer story
whatever floats yer boat

the message
is important
you could paint
it on a goat
just get out
and tell yer story
whatever floats yer boat

a writer sings
a painter paints
an author uses words
it's no good
unless the message
isn't seen or heard

keeping thoughts as secret
isn't good and here is why
because sharing brings them life
and otherwise they'll die

write a letter
do a play
or even bake a cake
the message
it is important
who cares what form it takes

say it loud
or scream it
even put it in a song
opinions
are for sharing
even if they're wrong

a writer sings
a painter paints
an author uses words
it's no good
unless the message
isn't seen or heard

keeping thoughts as secret
isn't good and here is why
because sharing brings them life
and otherwise they'll die

paint a picture
sing a song
even write a note
just get out
and tell yer story
whatever floats yer boat
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