She lays along her porch
In clothes of comfort
Enclosed in comforts
A modest house
A ancestral skill
A family purring in peace
Yet I’d only want a piece
Of her
None of all that other
Such a western reality
Is rooted in my mentality
To see her behind a glass
As children gawk and gasp

There's a storm a brewin'
You can feel it in your bones
The wind has changed direction
You can hear just how it moans

Silence, all the birds are gone
The dust is moving hard
There's a storm a brewin'
And the devil deals the cards

Batten down the hatches
Let the horses all run free
They'll survive out in the wild
They ain't like you and me

Keep them in the barn tonight
Sure as shooting, when it's done
There won't be one left standing
The storm won't leave you one

The sky is coloured yellow
There's a smell there in the air
There's a storm a brewin'
Try and beat it if you dare

You know you can't outrun it
Best to get to ground
The worst part is the silence
Before it hits there is no sound

There's a storm a brewin'
I'll take my leave now, just as well
I'm off to find a safe place
There it is....I said...that smell

There's a storm a brewin'

It’s an eight second partnership
The bronc, an angry participant
And me, I’m just trying to keep my legs in the stirrups
My hands on the reins
My wits about me
In one piece
Welcome to my world
It’s a family affair
Me and my sons, Troy and Dusty
Traveling day and night just to fight
For a living, one unforgiving
But exciting as the day is long
And to keep that ranch in Utah going
200 head of cattle and worries about enough rain
Are in our thoughts as we live the literal ups and downs of rodeo
We’re in the saddle for good
For life
Living our destiny
As we should
As we want to
As we have

The same gilded sun of western dreams
It shines so lone for kinds as us
Wandering eyes hypnotized
By that cosmic, copper lust

I fight injustice in the West and help people who are in danger.
When my brother was murdered, I became the Lone Ranger.
I bring outlaws to justice wherever I go.
I couldn't do it without the help of my Indian sidekick Tonto.

People constantly think that I'm an outlaw because I wear this mask.
They want to take it off but they learn that removing it isn't an easy task.
Tonto and I always beat the bad guys by using our wits and our fists.
When we're done, the outlaws have handcuffs slapped on their wrists.

I ride Silver who is my trusty steed.
We always help those who are in need.
I only use silver bullets and so far Tonto and I haven't failed.
We will always protect the innocent and send outlaws to jail.

Lying teeth

-
         Creep
                                Dearer.
-
silence roars.
The closer it contracts,
further it draws away.

Astonished to find
You're still confined inside
Your mind.

Destroy the weaker
and hide behind reticulum.

In the realm
of a hollow crown
I absconded,
endeavoured to uncover.

I‘ve left myself behind,
an inch
beneath water

                                     decorous

A wisp of smoke
as it climbs.

Carry your shame,
rise to the chime,
an unfamiliar invitation.
Bring your mind back around,
around to this
                                    callous.

The room begins to gratify;
You tax,
obambulate,
              depress.
                       ­            diminished.


Penduluming
will never
mollify,
                           placate.


The moment you appreciate,
               Passing.
-
Treasure motive
abhor being.

Be succinct.
Prove,
Demonstrate.

a man
of Bastille
that Canandaigua
march till
Pacific with
their referendum
suffrages to
really inhabit
kingdom that
welcome a
pickle as
this ancestry
written petition
must declare
doom but
again with
fur trade

Mustangs they are, wild horses who need gentling
Like Firestorm, where it took two hours to get him to walk three feet
         to a post
Dusty Levi’s, chaps and a whole lot of patience is what it takes coax
         these babies into bonding with the wranglers, who are penned
         up too
You see, they’re short-termed, non-violent offenders at this
          minimum security prison in the high desert south of Reno
Which is why they can all relate
Learn to be good citizens and not try to buck the system
Together in the bruising, blazing heat
Building trust, creating camaraderie
Getting to the point you can touch, pet, ride them
Working towards adoption day when the general public
Will trot them off to their new lives
The trainers and the mustangs having learned new skills
The world becoming a better place
Men and their mustangs achieving peace

The only note I took from yesterdays class was “the western governments failed to do anything about it” and that really drove home for me how transferable and different yet identical ongoing war is. WW1, WW2, Iraq, the syrian war.

I don’t know where poetry sits in all this. I think poetry without action is like theory without praxis so I to an extent I don’t really care what poetry is or should be in regards to war. There is a limit to what the written word can do in terms of changes the course of things and influencing people, it’s not nothing but it’s also not enough. The recognition of the limitation or inadequacy of the written or spoken word is demonstrated in how many poets are activists, they know speaking or writing alone is not enough.

I think poetry can be fuel, nourishing, provoking but then it’s like what are you gunna do about it? Western politics, particularly liberalism seems to have gotten it’s wires crossed somewhere along the line and some people seem to believe that talking about and reading about things is enough, that think pieces can actually change things and help people in of themselves.

I think the most poetry can be is a starting point, a seed, but what are you gonna do to grow it further?

I think poetry can be a call to action, and a call to action shouldn’t be read as a metaphor, take it literally and answer the call.