homeless beard

Hillbilly Heart

america, banjo, banjo music, belief, belong, bluegrass, county, faith, god, heart, hillbilly, love, love and lust, music

The city makes my heart beat change
To a speed I can’t endure
I start to sweat and I can’t breathe
To me there only is one cure

I have to leave the city life
Leave the commotion far behind
I’ve got to hit the country
For that is where I’ll find

I have got a hillbilly heart
It’s beats in banjo time
I have got a hillbilly heart
Out here, I feel just fine

City roads, and shopping malls
Get me riled and confused
I go home feeling dirty
I go home feeling used

I’ve got to get away from here
Or I will lose my mind
I’ve got to hit the country
For that is where I’ll find

I have got a hillbilly heart
It’s beats in banjo time
I have got a hillbilly heart
Out here, I feel just fine

I have got a hillbilly heart
It’s here that I belong
I have got a hillbilly heart
And it sings a bluegrass song
I have got a hillbilly heart
And it sings a bluegrass song

Euphrates river -

The Piper at Dunblane

amazing grace, chanter, children, Death, dunblane, god, High School, killings, life, mortal, murders, piper, praise, prayer, rememberance, sadness, scotland, teacher

The Piper at Dunblane

A chanter cracked from overuse
Cheeks salt stained from shed tears
Shed for those who lost their lives
Lost well before their years

The piper played for seventeen
Who never saw their best
Amazing Grace hung in the air
While our hearts beat in our chests

The massacre at Dunblane School
took seventeen that day
One teacher and lo, sixteen more
Beneath a sky all streaked with grey

The Pipers lips were dry and cracked
And the salt burned as he cried
but, he played the best he ever played
For the seventeen who died

The world was once their oyster
But, it never saw them grow
If you listen, you can hear him
That lonely piper blow

“Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.
T’was Grace that taught my heart to fear.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear
The hour I first believed.
Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come;
‘Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far
and Grace will lead me home.
The Lord has promised good to me.
His word my hope secures.
He will my shield and portion be,
As long as life endures.
Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.”

When we’ve been here ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun.
We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise
Than when we’ve first begun.
In memory of the teacher and sixteen students who were tragically killed in Dunblane, Scotland on March 13. 1996. Thanks to John Newton (1725 -1807), the author of “Amazing Grace”, used here in it’s entirety.

piper

Pay The Piper

choices, poetry

I’m conflicted by addictions
Choices to be made
Some come with restrictions
The piper must be paid

A small drink after dinner
A smoke out in the yard
Conflicted by addictions
The choices are quite hard

Temptation’s round the corner
It’s where ever you may look
You’re a small fish in the ocean
And the devil baits the hook

Choices are wide open
There are many to be made
But, no matter your direction
The piper must be paid

Compulsive interactions
May drive the train you ride
The devil’s the conductor
And he’s there right by your side

The devil’s in the details
And one day the bill is due
You have to pay the piper
For the choices made by you

He doesn’t want your money
He hooked you, that’s his goal
Your addictive interactions
Cost you dearly with your soul

1950s Chevrolet 3800 Truck At Sunset - Eldorado Canyon - Nelson NV - HDR -  Black & White

Riding Shotgun

family, poetry

i remember riding shotgun
between my ma and pa
mom had on the radio
dad chewed on his chaw

I always rode the middle
Every time in that old truck
I could feel each bounce and bump
Somtimes I had to duck

Ma would play the radio
Jesus music filled the air
Daddy, turned and looked away
Just like he didn’t care

Daddy was in Vietnam
He met Ma when he got back
He lost two fingers in the war
From a sneak enemy attack

Ma grew up in Jamestown
A small town in Tennessee
Nothing there but the old mine
Nothing much for one to see

She went to church on Sundays
Listened to  WCLC
Jesus music all the time
For the folks in Tennessee

Each Sunday after service
Pa would pick us up at church
He never went inside though
He didn’t quite like Pastor Birch

Daddy only owned one suit
He’d had it since the war
He wore it to get married in
It didn’t fit no more

The sleeves had gotten shorter
The chest was far too tight
But, since he didn’t go to church
To pa….it fit just right

Ma would sit and listen
And I would watch my pa
He’d make faces out the window
Never ever to my ma

Pa had faith, but different
He believed in what he saw
And what struck his eyes in war time
He could never tell my Ma

So, we would go to market
After church, each Sunday morn
Ma would go in shopping
We rush her with the old truck horn

She’d cuss pa when she got back
He’d just smile, enough to say
Let’s get home, daylights wasting
There’s still chores to do today

When I was nine, well almost ten
Ma got sick, I mean, real bad
She was being called to heaven
And I remember that my Dad

Took me into town to shop
To get a suit and shoes
Before we went he sat me down
And told me the bad news

I cried, for near an hour
Funny thing, my pa did too
I’d never seen this happen
To me, well…this was new

He said, you’re ma’s a fine one
She’s the best person that I know
Now, she’s wanted up in heaven
That’s all…we need to go

Ma died three days later
Pa phoned up Old Pastor Birch
He told him what had happened
And made plans to use the church

In all my life, I’d never seen
My pa dressed up so good
He said, I don’t look perfect
But, I done the best I could

Pa’s been gone for thirty years
And you know, I’ve got his suit
Not the new one that he bought that day
But, the one…he gave the boot

It reminds of the better times
When Ma and Pa and me
would ride out on a Sunday
I’d be shotgun, just to see

I remember riding shotgun
With Ma and Pa, and it was good
Jesus Music on the radio
As I think back…it was good

stock-photo-lots-of-sun-sunrise-girl-sits-on-the-window-woman-blinded-by-the-sun-girl-holding-her-head-352276100

Turn off The Sun

poetry, alcohol

The sun was shining brightly
My eyes could not adjust
My eyelids were not working
My eyeballs felt like rust

The night before was over
But, still it lingered on
A new day was beginning
And yesterday was gone

I can’t tell you just what happened
Where I went, or what I did
That memory was missing
It had all but gone and hid

Was my mind just in denial
Hiding thoughts within my brain
Or was it just that all this drinking
Was slowly driving me insane

I would wake up tasting yesterday
In a place I did not know
Sometimes with another person
Looking for a way to go

The sunshine could be painful
Reminding me a day had passed
I just never could remember
The thoughts would leave so fast

Maybe it was self protection
But, if I bet, I’d say…it’s not
I know I went out  drinking
But just how much, or really…what

Tonight, I’ll repeat all  my actions
It’s just a habit, I can’t break
There’s no way to fight this devil
There’s more than just my soul at stake

The devil drives my ride now
He sitcks around, just for a while
But. I know he’s in the darkness
Watching his work with a smile

The sunshine hurts my skin now
My eyes are squinted shut
In my head I hear the rumble
Of empty blackness in my gut

Another day of sorrow
I just can’t change the way I live
The devil takes from deep inside me
And what he takes…I freely give

One day, I’ll wake up sober
I’ll remember all I have done
But, if I don’t survive the battle
Can someone please turn off the sun?

shut in

What Goes ARound

family, love, poetry

I remember when you tucked me in
and would kiss me on the head
you’d leave the bedroom door just so
the hallway light just touched my bed

The monsters would all stay away
While the light was on you said
They were stuck behind the closet door
And if they touched the light…they’re dead

Now, the years have passed us by
And our roles are re-arranged
Now, I do the tucking in
But, the story hasn’t changed

I tuck you in, and kiss your head
And then you go to sleep
The monsters all are hidden
In the closet….so so deep

There’s times you may remember me
But, many times…there’s not
Your eyes will barely flicker
You can barely hold a thought

The monsters are inside you
From the closet, they have come
You may not know just who I am
But, you’ll always be my Mum

Now, it’s time to get tucked in
And for me to kiss you on the head
I’m gonna pull the door just so
The light….protects your bed.

"Old Truck in Weeds" Photo by Pat Corrigan From flickr.com

Riding Shotgun

poetry

i remember riding shotgun
between my ma and pa
mom had on the radio
dad chewed on his chaw

I always rode the middle
Every time in that old truck
I could feel each bounce and bump
Somtimes I had to duck

Ma would play the radio
Jesus music filled the air
Daddy, turned and looked away
Just like he didn’t care

Daddy was in Vietnam
He met Ma when he got back
He lost two fingers in the war
From a sneak enemy attack

Ma grew up in Jamestown
A small town in Tennessee
Nothing there but the old mine
Nothing much for one to see

She went to church on Sundays
Listened to  WCLC
Jesus music all the time
For the folks in Tennessee

Each Sunday after service
Pa would pick us up at church
He never went inside though
He didn’t quite like Pastor Birch

Daddy only owned one suit
He’d had it since the war
He wore it to get married in
It didn’t fit no more

The sleeves had gotten shorter
The chest was far too tight
But, since he didn’t go to church
To pa….it fit just right

Ma would sit and listen
And I would watch my pa
He’d make faces out the window
Never ever to my ma

Pa had faith, but different
He believed in what he saw
And what struck his eyes in war time
He could never tell my Ma

So, we would go to market
After church, each Sunday morn
Ma would go in shopping
We rush her with the old truck horn

She’d cuss pa when she got back
He’d just smile, enough to say
Let’s get home, daylights wasting
There’s still chores to do today

When I was nine, well almost ten
Ma got sick, I mean, real bad
She was being called to heaven
And I remember that my Dad

Took me into town to shop
To get a suit and shoes
Before we went he sat me down
And told me the bad news

I cried, for near an hour
Funny thing, my pa did too
I’d never seen this happen
To me, well…this was new

He said, you’re ma’s a fine one
She’s the best person that I know
Now, she’s wanted up in heaven
That’s all…we need to go

Ma died three days later
Pa phoned up Old Pastor Birch
He told him what had happened
And made plans to use the church

In all my life, I’d never seen
My pa dressed up so good
He said, I don’t look perfect
But, I done the best I could

Pa’s been gone for thirty years
And you know, I’ve got his suit
Not the new one that he bought that day
But, the one…he gave the boot

It reminds of the better times
When Ma and Pa and me
would ride out on a Sunday
I’d be shotgun, just to see

I remember riding shotgun
With Ma and Pa, and it was good
Jesus Music on the radio
As I think back…it was good