"blizzard" poems
(tw; hypothermia, death)
Having depression is like being caught out in a blizzard.
At first, the cold seems like nothing.
You're all bundled up in a fluffy coat,
scarf wrapped around your face,
hands slipped into gloves and tucked under your arms.
But then the snow begins to fall,
and the temperature drops,
and it's like the chill is stripping you down, layer by layer,
even though all your layers are still there.
It gets colder, and you start to feel the effects of the chill,
the fierce winter seeping into your bones,
making it seem as though you only walked outside
in a pair of shorts and a tee-shirt.
Your body begins to numb as the cold starts,
the weakest parts of you losing their feeling first.
Your nose,
your ears,
your cheeks and your face and your fingers,
all becoming completely numb,
as if they aren't there anymore.
And then your legs stiffen up,
and you have trouble walking,
even though you try so hard to keep moving,
because you know if you stop, you're doomed.
But you lose your ability to function,
the cold causing almost complete ****** paralysis,
and no matter how hard you try,
it's impossible to keep moving.
You fall to the ground,
curling into a ball in the snow,
trying to keep yourself warm,
but the cold is too much.
And as the hypothermia sets in,
your brain tricks you into thinking you're actually warm,
and you strip off the layers that were the only thing
keeping you alive.
And then it's over.
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 11:56 PM UTC
I love you Snowflake
I hope you know wherever you float
let the winds carry you home
you can come my way
& melt on my tongue
my little fractal of inspiration
infinitesimally spiraling
& cascading into a blizzard of diamonds
illuminates my mind
This is what divines sung of
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 3:49 AM UTC
You're a volcano in winter
Made when the Earth splintered
Tectonic plates shifted
And you were gifted
The frigid air outside is subzero
So you become my volcanic hero
When you scorch the cold
With your warmth so bold
I await an eruption
But there's a disruption
Dormant you remain
With suspicion engrained
But entering your main vent
Was not my main intent
Yet now that I'm in your magma chamber
I can see your anger
You're made of lava and ash
So you demand drama and cash
And violently explode in a flash
You've become my Krakatoa
When I wish I didn't know ya
Because of your grand magnitude
I question my aptitude
And insecurity ensues
As confidence I lose
I realize I've gone too far
When I feel your lava discharge
That pushes me into your crater
The pain I feel couldn't be greater
When all I see is an ashen cloud
And all I hear is your lashing growl
Inside of your volcano
There is a tornado
As sure as day glow
I feel I must lay low
And dodge the debris
While playing referee
As you're dissecting me
In your burning sea
That swirls in a cyclone maelstrom
Hell is where it was mailed from
I receive it
Reprieveless
I begin to drown in fire
And wish to retire
You think you're neat
Yet despite your heat
You're a cold blooded lizard
But outside there's a blizzard
So I get used to your volcano
I can't contain my disdain though
Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 6:18 AM UTC
#
*The cycle of the seasons
once again presents a change.
Greens and blues are now the colors,
as the scene has rearranged.
Crepe Myrtles shed their blossoms
in blizzard, pinks and reds,
And bulbs with care once planted
now emerge from flower beds.
I walk upon a sea of blue
that waves with every breeze.
Bluebonnets on the Texas plains,
a view that's sure to please.
They ripple with the grass
in tempo with the wind.
How lovely to just sway and hear
the message that they send.
It seems as though the world awakens,
stretching with a yawn.
As luscious grass emerges
from the brown muck on my lawn.*
#
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 8:16 AM UTC
Freezing a glance
Wind cuffs down-white heliums
Sweeps contrails
Separates cirrus across the moon
Cresting wave tormented
wind against steel
movement in movement
sprays of hair
Blizzard of petals from the apple
Furious snow
drifts off— garage roof
Fog that haunts the river on the coldest nights
_____________
The walk across the alley
took—
so long—
A lifetime from the doorway
of someone else’s impatience
Prints of motion
record the loss
a single set in snow
But there!
on the icy, shoveled surface of night
lies the snowflake of a bird
impossibly molted
Song of a feather
caught—
Flailing! Helpless!
More than lovely for its lying there!
Lying there!
Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 6:38 PM UTC
The beauty of comatose can only be seen through
the eyes of a wizard in a blizzard
strutting in garlic slippers,
or Christ with knees bent at the tabernacle
peeling bananas and kicking prayers
farther than eternity with each gapping second,
or like Basquiat slumped back to the wall,
with ounces of speedball dancing through his veins,
eating 80’s free-based fried chicken *******
as his eyelids paints beautiful nightmares of lemon flowers
and Bacchus bacon over a glycopyrrolate desert
of flagrant cuckold buffoonery.
Or like leprechauns burning chocolate ******* candles
on the mantle of Zion, sipping oatmeal sprinkled
with Staten Island malt liquor bacon.
or like Tupac reading the thoughts of Mother Shipton
through the daze of California cannabis
and hearing the ominous voice of Plutarch sing death assignments
from heaven to Assassins on horsebacks goggling ***** water
to wet the dry bones of their throats as they prepare to fulfill
the gospel of self-fulfilling prophecies of being fell by ***** bullets.
Or like sophisticated wallets of spice and kitchen characters in a bald head
cooking chemical kisses and 18 February nights under Moloch’s skin,
where constitutions are written in charcoal diaries with Egyptian ciphers and razors.
“I had rain sowed into the pockets of my sneakers and composed 1310 eulogies
at the basement of king David’s tower,” said the Kraftwerkian caricature,
as he dangles cigarettes in remembrance of Klaus Nomi and philosophizes on the proliferation
of poetic vandalism at urinals where modernism failed under the phosphorescence of coloration at the avenue of no trees where Picasso's "Guernica" **** Lies All.
Jul 17, 2012
Jul 17, 2012 at 6:01 PM UTC
*
Never Have I felt a December
So cold, so lonely.
The walk along the lake,
That changed a fate
The stumble in the snow,
I didn’t let go.
The daring walk,
Onto thin ice
Are you watching?
My attempts to see a rise in you.
So delicate was that goodbye
Darkness, up the long road
Upon the destination, no one knew
I ran home,
To see you waiting there.
You waited for me,
For hours I guessed.
This time a true
Goodbye
We made a plan,
So sketchy at first.
Maybe Just nervous?
Never knowing, what could unfold
We changed our plans.
Much more bold.
I rambled on,
For hours it seemed.
Until we arrived,
To a bran new scene
Both so nervous,
But we knew what we wanted.
I motioned you closer,
No cold shoulder.
Comfortably sat,
Until the movie was over
We met some friends, later that night
Continued to smile,
Be polite.
Just dreaming of holding you tight
I think I might…
A gentle kiss upon your lips
I did not miss.
Out in the cold, yet,
All I felt was warmth
The warmness of you and I,
Another night
Goodbye
Sit next to me in the morning,
The bell is ringing…
I’m ignoring
So captivated by your smile.
Again I depart.
Goodbye.
The night before Christmas eve,
We stayed awake for hours
Until our wish
Had finally come true
Its been a year
Since that December
And yet I miss you,
Just as much as I remember
That December so warm,
Now it plagues me with cold
No longer we are.
Growing old
Goodbye
December,
December!
How I hate you now
Drown my mind
In your white lies.
No longer,
Can I see your eyes
I have grown old of these,
goodbyes…
December
The month that will,
Confuse me forever
Lost in the blizzard
Of my mind
We always say that, “truth is hard to find”
Goodbye
DECEMBER
goodbye…
*
Nov 4, 2010
Nov 4, 2010 at 2:49 PM UTC
Give me back my broken night
my mirrored room, my secret life
it's lonely here,
there's no one left to torture
Give me absolute control
over every living soul
And lie beside me, baby,
that's an order!
Give me crack and **** ***
Take the only tree that's left
and stuff it up the hole
in your culture
Give me back the Berlin wall
give me Stalin and St Paul
I've seen the future, brother:
it is ******
Things are going to slide, slide in all directions
Won't be nothing
Nothing you can measure anymore
The blizzard, the blizzard of the world
has crossed the threshold
and it has overturned
the order of the soul
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
You don't know me from the wind
you never will, you never did
I'm the little jew
who wrote the Bible
I've seen the nations rise and fall
I've heard their stories, heard them all
but love's the only engine of survival
Your servant here, he has been told
to say it clear, to say it cold:
It's over, it ain't going
any further
And now the wheels of heaven stop
you feel the devil's riding crop
Get ready for the future:
it is ******
Things are going to slide ...
There'll be the breaking of the ancient
western code
Your private life will suddenly explode
There'll be phantoms
There'll be fires on the road
and the white man dancing
You'll see a woman
hanging upside down
her features covered by her fallen gown
and all the lousy little poets
coming round
tryin' to sound like Charlie Manson
and the white man dancin'
Give me back the Berlin wall
Give me Stalin and St Paul
Give me Christ
or give me Hiroshima
Destroy another fetus now
We don't like children anyhow
I've seen the future, baby:
it is ******
Things are going to slide ...
When they said REPENT REPENT ...
7.4k
each man must realize
that it can all disappear very
quickly:
the cat, the woman, the job,
the front tire,
the bed, the walls, the
room; all our necessities
including love,
rest on foundations of sand -
and any given cause,
no matter how unrelated:
the death of a boy in Hong Kong
or a blizzard in Omaha ...
can serve as your undoing.
all your chinaware crashing to the
kitchen floor, your girl will enter
and you'll be standing, drunk,
in the center of it and she'll ask:
my god, what's the matter?
and you'll answer: I don't know,
I don't know ...
7.2k
Anorexia is not collar bones.
It is the smell rotting of flesh as you dismantle your body bit by bit.
Anorexia is not a thigh gap, it is your knees so weak they shake as you fall to the ground.
Anorexia is not self control. It is the feeling of utter hopelessness as your life tornados into a blizzard of nothingness.
Anorexia is not fashionable. It is your mother’s sobbing eyes as she sees her child dying
Anorexia is not 80 pounds. It is the weight of a thousand pulsing suns on your shoulders.
A thick black cloud in your mind, and rules spelled out like chains pulling you towards the ground.
No matter what measure of gravity that you have in this earth, it still hurts, it’s still real.
So to you 'pro anas' who so blindly say 'hunger hurts, but starving works' think before you act.
Suffering is an addiction, please do not harm yourself with this affliction.
- Emily Ward
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 8:59 AM UTC
i've come to realise
that with every fallen snowflake
the life of one unknown to me
is reflected in its icy self.
a snowflakes very existence relies on the individuality of its structure, similar to that of a human life.
everyone has a different story to tell
complicated to those who don't know
complicated to those who do know
complicated to all in a sense because
we sit by and wonder why
why are we here?
what is the meaning of true purpose when
uncertainty plagues the minds of all who breathe
living in a time when the youth of our generation are born into an age so filled with hurt
hate
pain
no common sense in a place where so many have tried to fight for the right of humanity.
all we receive is inhumane behaviour and injustice
uncaring and shallow acts when all we wish for is fairness and equality
you see, although every snowflake is different
their independent beauty co-depends on one another's existence
how can you have a blizzard with a single snowflake?
their imperfections bring out their perfections
each one has a tale to tell
each one brings out the beauty in one another.
similar to human life
have you ever realised the silent beauty in a cold winters snow?
how when engulfed in a snowstorm, you are able to accept peace into your mind, you're able to let go?
you're actually able to think for a moment, and realise
the clarity that silence holds
all that finally unfolds
when
you're able to take a moment for yourself and
let out the breath you've unknowingly held
you're finally able to delve
into a sense of true finality
a final sense of...
raw serenity.
Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 10:55 PM UTC
The day you died I went into the dirt,
Into the lightless hibernaculum
Where bees, striped black and gold, sleep out the blizzard
Like hieratic stones, and the ground is hard.
It was good for twenty years, that wintering --
As if you never existed, as if I came
God-fathered into the world from my mother's belly:
Her wide bed wore the stain of divinity.
I had nothing to do with guilt or anything
When I wormed back under my mother's heart.
Small as a doll in my dress of innocence
I lay dreaming your epic, image by image.
Nobody died or withered on that stage.
Everything took place in a durable whiteness.
The day I woke, I woke on Churchyard Hill.
I found your name, I found your bones and all
Enlisted in a cramped necropolis
your speckled stone skewed by an iron fence.
In this charity ward, this poorhouse, where the dead
Crowd foot to foot, head to head, no flower
Breaks the soil. This is Azalea path.
A field of burdock opens to the south.
Six feet of yellow gravel cover you.
The artificial red sage does not stir
In the basket of plastic evergreens they put
At the headstone next to yours, nor does it rot,
Although the rains dissolve a ****** dye:
The ersatz petals drip, and they drip red.
Another kind of redness bothers me:
The day your slack sail drank my sister's breath
The flat sea purpled like that evil cloth
My mother unrolled at your last homecoming.
I borrow the silts of an old tragedy.
The truth is, one late October, at my birth-cry
A scorpion stung its head, an ill-starred thing;
My mother dreamed you face down in the sea.
The stony actors poise and pause for breath.
I brought my love to bear, and then you died.
It was the gangrene ate you to the bone
My mother said: you died like any man.
How shall I age into that state of mind?
I am the ghost of an infamous suicide,
My own blue razor rusting at my throat.
O pardon the one who knocks for pardon at
Your gate, father -- your hound-bitch, daughter, friend.
It was my love that did us both to death.
6.6k
*
I chant your name in frenzy
Like a SUFI twirling round and round
LOVE, LOVE, BELOVED, BELOVED
Your name is like GOD
Ram, Allah, Buddha, Jesus
If you want to join me
In the life of LOVE
Chant with me
LOVE, LOVE.
BELOVED, BELOVED...
I carry sweets for my BELOVED
Wearing a long "LOVE robe"
Sing your praise
Jumping, dancing on the streets
With zest I meet passerby
You - my BELOVED
You are my gardener
I am your seed
I am your bud
I am your flower
I am your tree
I am the forest you walk into
In your LOVE
I utter gibberish
But only you understand it
And clap at my words with smile
I know, you'll protect me
At every step of life
Why I should take stress
Why I should be tense
Why should I worry
what world will say about me
I'm in LOVE
I'm with YOU in my being
In my thoughts, my words, my actions
I surrender to you
And leave it to you to protect me
You created me
As a LOVER
You are my maker
You are my GOD
I chant your name
With every breathe
I chant your name in frenzy
Like a SUFI twirling round and round
LOVE, LOVE, BELOVED, BELOVED
Your name is like GOD
Ram, Allah, Buddha, Jesus
If you want to join me
In the life of LOVE
Chant with me
LOVE, LOVE.
BELOVED, BELOVED...
When I pass by streets
I utter YOUR praise
I sing songs for YOU
Seeing me, people say:
"**Look - here she comes
This mad woman...**"
But without care,
I sing your LOVE
Intoxicated in your LOVE
I roll in the mud & sand
And cover my body with your dirt
In your LOVE
I have lost my gender too
I know, I've become YOU
I chant your name in frenzy
A SUFI twirling round and round
LOVE, LOVE, BELOVED, BELOVED
Your name is like GOD
Ram, Allah, Buddha, Jesus
Now I have give you
The strings of my life
In your hand
You made me fearless kid in LOVE
I know you'll protect me
I'm your kid in your LOVE
The suffering and pain
That GOD has given
Only my BELOVED will end my pain
I chant your name in frenzy
Like a SUFI twirling round and round
LOVE, LOVE, BELOVED, BELOVED
Your name is like GOD
Ram, Allah, Buddha, Jesus
If you want to join me
In the life of LOVE
Chant with me
LOVE, LOVE.
BELOVED, BELOVED...
People, Seeing my LOVE
Some places
They threw stone at me
Some showered flowers at me
But no one is willing
To give place in their heart
They are just guiding me
To my BELOVED's abode
This girl - a SUFI
Is roaming, walking
A wanderlust
Like dust storm
Like blizzard rain
Chanting your name
LOVE, LOVE.
BELOVED, BELOVED...
If you want to join me
In the life of LOVE
Chant with me
LOVE, LOVE.
BELOVED, BELOVED...
*
Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 2:37 AM UTC
Only death was left.
Death of creatures.
Death of bushes and flowers and trees.
Death coated the landscape like a blizzard.
Layer upon layer it continued to pile high.
They all tried to dig themselves out.
But soon it became so overwhelming
that the very people who were digging,
were enveloped in its icy grip.
But even as death squeezes the land dry
there will come a day
when even death must die.
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 5:49 PM UTC
Dear friends and family,
Have you ever noticed the silence of the forest?
Not a sound penetrates these dense thickets of brown and green,
and when you walk you can feel the stillness,
the tranquillity and serene.
Footsteps stir the dust creating a blizzard, it stays when you progress,
even the earth's natural instinct is to dissolve back into nothing.
The forest light never shines, and come to think of it neither does mine,
because i've travelled deep enough in and there is no returning.
The fauna here is beautiful, so much life when there is death,
birds chirping out their sweet call as if begging for me to not end this nature walk,
and when I do I know they wont stop chirping, their life will go on,
as will you when you come to terms with what I've done.
I have to find the perfect spot and more than not a perfect place,
because when I leave this earth I want to give back to natures grace.
I will be a bird,
free to explore the next journey without the burden of the world.
I am ready, I want to fly with the assistance of my noose I wont have to stay alive.
Dear friends and family,
Have you ever noticed the stillness of the forest?
because I do not make a sound.
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 5:27 PM UTC
I am the God of all that is dank, dark, and cold.
My sisters are the autumn chill and the winter wind.
Touch me, turn to ice. Hold me in constant hypothermia.
I will shatter your heart and freeze your sorrow.
You can't hold a candle to me, my presence extinguishes heat.
Very few can handle my words, with a frozen mind to follow.
I am what fire is not. I am the blizzard storm.
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 9:07 PM UTC
Snow:
years of anger following
hours that float idly down—
the blizzard
drifts its weight
deeper and deeper for three days
or sixty years, eh? Then
the sun! a clutter of
yellow and blue flakes—
Hairy looking trees stand out
in long alleys
over a wild solitude.
The man turns and there—
his solitary track stretched out
upon the world.
4.8k
I feel a little confused
Like I have something to figure out
A little twisted up and chewed
My mind is racing on doubt.
I'm trying to put my thoughts
Into words in this writing
My hand it jots
The nails on my fingers I am biting.
It's hard to say how I feel
But I definitely know that I am feeling
Everything inside is real
I just have to find it by peeling.
My skin it itches from nerves
I look sallow and wrecked
I've stretched myself thin and over all the curves
I can no longer object.
I had to cry today
Because I drove myself up a wall
Repressing things I've wanted to say
Has somehow made the mountain I have, to climb, very tall.
It's not like my problems are anything important
But I guess they tend to wear me ragged
It's sometimes because I can be expectant
Of people and things that are jagged.
I have some things I still need to learn
But I'd rather be learning then at a stop
Like how not to expect and sometimes not to yearn
And when to skip, rather than to hop.
I try to keep my heart open wide
But that leaves it to be bruised
I have to let some things subside
And not let myself feel used.
I'll learn to be compassionate
But still protect myself
Though somehow I feel like I'm in debt
To all the dolls on the shelf.
I conclude this work of emotion
Still upside down and withered
At least I've crossed further, the ocean
But I have yet to meet the blizzard.
Mar 24, 2011
Mar 24, 2011 at 9:29 PM UTC
Skin as white as snow
Her heart, ice cold
Everyone looked at her in fear
She decided that she couldn’t stay here
Like the wind,
She fled
In the blizzard,
She disappeared
Everything she saw;
Everything she touched
Froze in its place
Glowed as she stayed
Each creation, different each time
Not one in itself was the same
All her creations were just like her:
A snowflake: just as unique.
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 10:13 AM UTC
Life can be painless
Provided there is sufficient
Peacefulness
For a dozen or so rituals
To be repeated simply
Endlessly
Your genius does not fail you
It allows you to understand the
Truth of the situation;
Which makes you--at times--
more tragic than ever
And your genius,
like all geniuses
Suffers periodic fits
of monumental
naïveté
Hi-ho
Listen:
Where is Grace
When milk and blood
Are about to be added
To the composition of the
Stinking ping-pong
***** being manufactured
In Grand Rapids?
Schizophrenia
The sound and appearance
Of the word fascinates
It sounds and looks to me
Like a human being
Sneezing in a blizzard of
Soapflakes
This much we know:
You made yourself hideously
Uncomfortable by not narrowing
Your attention to details
Of life that were immediately
Important
And by refusing to believe what
Your neighbors believed
Hi-ho
Let your imagination continue
To be the flywheel on the
Ramshackle machinery of the truth.
But not the ‘awful’ truth
The ‘beauty’ in truth
Because we are a part
Of a system that is very
Restless,
With people tearing around
All the time
Every so often,
somebody stops to put up
A monument
Ours is a country where
Everybody is expected to
Pay his own bills for
Everything,
And one of the most
Expensive things a person
Can do is get sick
Grace:
Because if we stay here
We’ll do one of two things
(or both!)
Build a Commune
Or do like Collin Heise did:
Make the main thing that we
do be this:
Move seventy-eight
Thousand pounds of olives
To Tulsa, Oklahoma
Even if we can’t
Improve the quality of our surroundings
We’ll do our best to make our
Insides beautiful instead
Piebald Roadtrip-writing, baby
Hi-ho
You are the turtle
able to live anywhere
even under water for short periods
With your home on your back
A particular comfort in
Realizing that it so often feels
There is no order in the
World around us
That we must adapt ourselves to
The requirements of
Chaos instead
Remember:
We are healthy
Only to the extent that
Our ideas are
Humane
To you
To me
To ourselves
To We
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 9:05 PM UTC
Frozen solid in a block of ice
A wedding ring shines bright
The blizzard came out of nowhere
Trapping her in the night
Three days later they find her body
Frozen from her head to her toes
A stranger all alone lost in the snow
A woman that nobody knows
They brought her body back to town
And laid her in the stable
What happened next was miraculous
Some say only a fable
Weeks went by that turned to months
But her body would never decay
She looked the same as the day she was found
Until that faithful day
A farmer in the spring was plowing his field
And the bones of a man was found
A wedding ring was glistening in the sun
Where he laid on top of the ground
They brought the bones back to town
And laid them beside his bride
As soon as the two were together again
Her skin became broken and dried
They buried them both beneath an oak
That stood between two springs
When no names were found to write on the cross
They mounted their wedding rings
Jul 6, 2010
Jul 6, 2010 at 8:38 PM UTC
Take my hand
hold on through the quicksand
of my expressed agony
for I’m trying to bring us past the vanity
and the demonic hailings I paint
can as swiftly change to angels sailing past the hate
my words can take you from a pearless white night
with only the moon in sight
then twist that light back to
the sun’s beaming might
surround you in a blizzard
with imagery so vivid
it cuts through the snow
like a rock in a rivers flow
bring you from the crumbles of earthly ruins
to the humble pearly white gates of heavenly viewings
invoke you in anger & apathy
a firery rage bellowing
until you hear a fazed echoeing
pulling you from the depths of mind
to the paradise I envisioned for
mankind
corrupt you with illness of doubtful hate
then present a panacea of a
hopeful fate
I know I’m just a man,
but take my hand
and I’ll show to your there’s more to us than a monotonous plan
Dec 21, 2018
Dec 21, 2018 at 3:07 AM UTC
I believe things happen for a reason
Whether it's God or the force
Some kind of cosmic power pulling strings and writing stories
I'm not sure
But I can tell you that I have somehow defied my own odds
The choices I made did not take me away
I am here
There were times when I didn't think I would make it my high school graduation and that I would not see my 18th birthday
The scars on my arms multiplied
And the demons in my head screamed louder than ever before
I lost my first love
Then I lost my second
I watched my family explode from close range
And then I watched from a far
Every insecurity swirled in my head like a blizzard
I could not see a bright future
And then something clicked
Something bigger than myself took hold of my mind
My heart was no longer heavy
And I don't know if that's God stepping in or my own power of will
But I have somehow managed to save myself
And I know there is no quick fix to this disease that has held me captive for so long
But I'm realizing that you should never stop moving when it gets dark
Never quit breathing when the air gets thin
And never back down even when your opponent is twice your size
Or even when your opponent is yourself
I know things happen for a reason
That's obviously why I'm still here
And although there is still a dark cloud over me
I can start to see the sun beams
And I know one day my sky will be clear
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 8:42 AM UTC
When men were men, Mountain men, they would shout out a small greeting to those approaching, some were very discriptive...here is mine:
Born in a blizzard, back in a grizzly's cave,
drank wolf milk, use a knife to shave.
Can out spit, out run, out shoot any known
man alive.
Can fight two or more men just to keep it fair,
now get down from your horse and tell me
what the hell your doing here!
Man I tell you I was born in the wrong century.
Open land, cooking outside, trade my furs for a good woman.
Shoot guns, drink whiskey...hell it don't get any better then that.
Course I would change a few things, like..I would need my toilet paper,
that corn husk thing , well I'm not for all that.
I'd have to figure out how to put a heater and windshield on that horse of mine too.
I'd **** sure would get me a better rifle then that Hawkins( mind you it was the rifle of its time) just to even up the score when them city slickers start trying to sneak away my whiskey.
Ah, yes just rambling. Anyways back to the real world.
Nov 5, 2010
Nov 5, 2010 at 8:37 AM UTC