"abilene" poems
hush, abi
please!
if we stay here nothing bad will happen to us
pinky promise, alright?
mommy and daddy will be back soon and we can lie here all together
the four of us can lie right here, cradled by the grass and the stars will come out for us
we can make our own constellations, how does that sound?
when mommy and daddy find us we will name it whatever you want, they will love it
oh, abi, please don’t cry
the scary loud sounds?
those were fireworks, the brightest, most colorful fireworks that exist
keep looking up, abi, you’ll see them soon
who lit them?
why, the night sky sent its own just for us
that’s why there were two, one for you and one for me
they are made of shooting stars and instead of smoke they leave behind cosmic dust, that’s what makes them so beautiful
when mommy and daddy come back, two will be lit for them, you’ll see
but now stay here with me, i know it is cold, but please try not to move
we can become two blades of grass, but only if you close your eyes, no peeking!
in the morning we can splash our faces with sweet dew and say hello to traveling ladybugs
we can dance to melody of the bird’s flapping wings, we will hear so many different sounds and colors
we can watch all the fireworks we want, the pretty ones i told you about
abi, stop shaking, it will be okay
those steps are mommy and daddy walking to us
they want to be grass with us, all of our roots can be threaded together like a bracelet and we can be so happy
don’t open your eyes
promise you will keep them shut tight, you can only look when you hear the fireworks the sky will light up for them
i won’t open my eyes either
pinky promise, alright?
we will soon be velvety soft, we will live in our garden with mommy and daddy
here they come!
now hold my hand, that way we will be planted together
it will be mommy, daddy, me, and you - Abilene
watching fireworks paint the sky forever.
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 3:09 PM UTC
IN LONDON LONG AGO
PEOPLE WERE BEING KILLED
AND THE PUBLIC DIDN'T KNOW
WHO WAS JACK THE RIPPER YOU ASK
THE BOBBIES AT THE TIME
WERE ALL BROUGHT TO TASK
A MAN NAMED ABILENE
INVESTIGATED THE CASE
HE AND HIS MEN
BEGAN THE CHASE
IN 1888 ALL THIS OCCURRED
THE EVIDENCE AND SUSPECTS
HAVE ALWAYS BEEN BLURRED
THE KILLINGS WERE GRUESOME
THE VICTIMS WERE SLAUGHTERED
FATHERS LOST SONS
MOTHERS LOST DAUGHTERS
MANY SUSPECTS CAME TO PASS
BUT JACK WAS NEVER CAUGHT
WHO WAS JACK THE RIPPER
NOW CONCLUSIONS CAN BE SOUGHT
SO THE KILLINGS WILL REMAIN A MYSTERY
TILL THE END OF TIME
WAS HE A DESCENDENT OF YOURS
OR A RELATIVE OF MINE
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 11:31 PM UTC
To France, Germany, Italy, Spain
I can't run away from life and its pain
I hit the trail, I hop the freight train
And so does my dearest, my lovely Jane
She died back in Abilene and was buried alone
And now I know, she's not the only one
She haunts me night, she haunts me day
My feet drag behind me, they beg me to stay
This sorrow has me by the ankles and is ripping me down
And I'm stuck at the bottom of the ocean, unable to drown
I travel the deserts, starving and thirsty
And the heat and sand are my only friends
I'll never see her again, yes, this I know
And so I'm doomed to this life of woe
Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 3:30 AM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
Cigarettes coffee and my radio
An egg fried over easy
On wheat toast to go
Before I face the morning rush
The fender benders and the crush
Of traffic patterns gone quite bad
And people who appear quite mad
Now you can say what you will
But it takes patience and some skill
To ride the highways of this land
I wonder if you understand
I’m on the road from dawn to dusk
And sometimes there’s the smell of must
Underneath my arms from sweat
But I’m still driving
Ain’t stopped yet
So pardon me if I’m defensive
About the fact I smell offensive
Now you can say what you will
But it takes patience and some skill
To ride the highways of this land
I wonder if you understand
One day I know I’ll pack it in
And talk about places I’ve been
And all the things that I’ve seen
From Seattle to Abilene
But right now I’m on the move
It’s time for me to show and prove
Now you can say what you will
But it takes patience and some skill
To ride the highways of this land
I wonder if you understand
(c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester. All rights reserved.
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 7:34 AM UTC
I have in my hand , the very dollar bill , was a cash settlement for postage stamps in Chattahoochee Hills , same bill that fed the Kitty at a strip joint in Dallas , bought a Charms Sucker at a bowling alley in Texarkana ! Helped pay the rent on a duplex in Santa Fe , went toward the water bill in Reno , Nevada. On its way to New Orleans , handed off by a trucker in Abilene . Handed over to a **** dealer from Chattanooga , wound up in a offering plate in Kalamazoo , Michigan !
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 12:37 PM UTC
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.
Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 9:26 PM UTC
-Lyrix
My Grand Dad was a Cowboy
They called Him Cowboy Bill
But to me He was Grand Dad
A cowboy for real
He lived His life
In a pickup truck
as He'd go from sale to sale
Buy them calves
when they's almost dead
Then He'd raise 'em
back to health
Cause He's a Cowboy for real
Cowboy and He always will
be a Cowboy still
He's a Cowboy
Cowboy for real
Thought a time
He would settle down
with a woman sweet and fair
Wasn't long and He was
on the road
and no one had to tell her
He's a Cowboy for real
He's a Cowboy and
He always will
be a Cowboy still
He's a Cowboy for real
Ridin' in to Abilene
Boots were shined
Hat was steamed
Thought He'd stop in
at the sale awhile
Talk with some
good ole' boy's He knows
Sittin' down and talking stock
Lookin' mainly toward
the bargain lot
Thinkin' maybe
He'd sit a spell
when He smiled
and grabbed His heart
Adios He thought
and said good-bye
Mounted up
and took His final ride
The Lord He said
Cowboy come on home
The Cowboy He be ridin' on
Cause He's a Cowboy for real
Cowboy and He always will
be a Cowboy still
He's a Cowboy for real
and He always will
-R.
(D)
81
Oct 10, 2017
Oct 10, 2017 at 11:35 AM UTC
Old Abilene Town
I can see to the bottom
of your soul
I don't see nothing
but the stench
of a dead rabbit hole
You destroyed my home
and you destroyed my girl
Now all you get is
your own funeral
You paved your way
Sea of Agony's bound
***** ****
old Abilene Town
Forever now known
as the ***** devils
G** **** hometown.
-R.
10.16
-LA
Sep 9, 2017
Sep 9, 2017 at 8:33 PM UTC
**** kickin at the end of the Chisholm.
Lookit you now.
Prettiest place that I've ever seen.
Folks there dont treat you mean
In Abilene.
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 10:29 AM UTC
There's a few of the old crowd still meet up at Christmas and
each raise a glass to the past and good friends.
The crowd's thinning out now, but I'm thinking out loud now
it's still quite a sizeable group
(If you don't count so well )
We reminisce about that and the other and
it's this that makes the bond stronger
I suppose the longer we go on the few will become less
there are flywheels in the abattoir
and they spin to a six string guitar
the piano plays on down in Abilene to the tunes of a cowboy and his praire dream.
It's all alike or a bit the same
never knowing if one had been
sane what the outcome would have been.
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 4:40 AM UTC
Today met yesterday
a little too early this morning
Sleep still floating in my eyes
like clouds in the skies
hesitant to clamor open;
not at all eager to embrace the day
Eager more to slumber the quiet away
Weekends are hard, harder I think
This time then, before she left
we would be planning an adventurous trip
Midland, Abilene, Dallas perhaps
A getaway to simply relax
and treasure every moment spent together
Today baseball game, and then another
a city kids event and movie later
Another day with the kids
but without you
Miss you mom,
today, everyday
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 3:04 PM UTC
all i've wanted is to sleep
to tip over and land
soak in distilled whiskey
like arthropods preserved
in amber, except me
lost in an extended
trance, dissolving
into resins, ointments
oils--
i don't want to feel trapped
i fear me leaving more
than anything else,
me leaving to beat
the traffic, catch the
train, board the bus
to Abilene
a roundtrip
god I'm
tired of tryin'
so
hard.
Sep 28, 2017
Sep 28, 2017 at 9:49 PM UTC
The drive began in Donna,
at the tail end of Texas.
We mounted up and began
step one of 952 miles.
Coastal plains, the endless grass,
into scrubby mesquite trees and rolling hills.
Canyons, climbing and descending
rocks rolling under horse and cattle.
Saddle sore and travel weary
riding the endless days.
The nights, stars, moon, planets,
taking turns, watching over the herd in the darkness.
Cougars, and coyotes,
rustlers and the weather all up to no good.
Then we come up to the
streams, creeks and the mighty rivers.
Nasal breathing from the herd,
the splashes of tails and hooves.
Yaw, and get along,
the slap of a rope on a leg.
Cattle and river's smell, fills the nose.
Chili beans, and cornbread
Hard tack to snack
My hat shields my head
from the rain, and the blazing sun.
50 men and 3000 head,
march triumphantly into Abilene Kansas.
Where the cattle are immediately loaded
into railroad cars after walking 952 miles.
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 1:39 PM UTC