UNTITLED

Untitled

Waterfall in winter dream

Ice embracing the crystal stream

The water's song, the frosty kiss

The promise of hope upon the mist

The music of life, the magic of chance

From the shadows it calls and in sunlight I dance.

Copyright ©2007 Voo

THE HILLBILLY BOOGIE MAN LEAVES HOME

The Hillbilly Boogie Man Leaves Home

Cleanin my ears with a chicken leg

And munchin on a piece of chalk

I talked myself into standing up

And takin myself fer a walk.

Now I'd been sittin there in the shade

For nigh on fifteen years

Chewin on snakes till my belly would ache

And drinkin jars full of rain and tears.

The old junk car that I leaned on

Was rusted beyond repair

But she was fine once upon a time

Before she was junked out there.

Now for company I will whistle

And for dinner I will beg

But if you don't talk right, I'll put out your lights

With my fists and my wooden leg.

The ole lady done run right off, see

Back in 1942

With a peddling feller by the name of Teller

And that's why I sing the blues.

I cannot work, I cannot plow

I used to hunt but I can't hunt now

I used to fish but I lost my pole

And my worms fell into a crawdad hole.

I used to dance, I used to sing

But I'm useless now, can't do a thing

But moan and groan and lay about

And wait for the hillbilly haints to come out.

And then we boogie

Till the cows come home

And it never stops

Cause the cows are gone.

We howl at the moon

And fiddle and pick

And dance with partners

Made out of sticks.

We drink moonshine

From little brown jugs

And rap a little

Like we is thugs.

Then mornin comes

And they go away

And I just lay here

All damn day.

Chewin on snakes

And drinkin my tears

And the people pass by me

Concerned and afeared.

They look at me crazy

Like they think I'm a haint

And touched in the noggin

But I know I aint.

I see hillbilly ghosties

Even if they don't see

And the rednecks come riding

And a visiting me.

But today I'm a walkin

And a leavin this place

And a going to somewheres

Where they don't know my face.

Fifteen years I've been settin

'Neath that old cedar tree

Awaiting my true love

To come on back to me.

But she ain't a coming

I reckon she's dead

At least, in her last letter

That's whut she said.

So I'm a waitin no longer

I'm leavin my tree

And lookee there back a yonder

The car's a follering me.

©by Voo

August 22, 2005

 1 a.m.

The Dancing Outlaw

Jesco White

Wildwood Flower

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IZdSBwIJluo&ab_channel=ChrisMills

The Dancing Outlaw 

THE WEST WIND KNOWS

The West Wind Knows


 Wonder who else but the west wind knows
Just where the pale moon flower grows
And if the moonshine in her power
Can reach to smell that fragrant flower?

This town has died and left it's ghosts
Now rolling tumbleweeds for hosts
Lead you to doors that swing and sway
In saloons where old pianos play.

The cowboys rode the trails near here
They'd hunt the bear and rope the steers
But there's no beast left here to find
Like men, they've left this place behind.

Their bodies, though, are laid to rest
Most pierced by bullets in their chests
The cemetery, bleak and morose
Now populated by their ghosts.

At midnight, apparitions walk
Down these quiet paths but do not talk
They just acknowledge and nod and leave
Forgotten too long now to grieve.

Such hope they had when first they found
This western soil, this dusty ground
But greed and life took hope away
And in this dusty land they lay.

Moon flowers grow upon them now
Bloom out at night upon their brows
Coyotes howl but don't come near
For nothing living will live here.

This town of ghosts, with dark red mud
Made darker still by spilled red blood
Where only that pale flower grows
In the place I walk when the west wind blows.




©by Voo
Sept 4, 07