RED CURTAINS

Red Curtains

Leaving home, I looked back one more time

At the little yard that needed to be raked

The old car that cried out for new tires

The flower garden that refused to grow a rose

And my heart jumped into my throat.

Dewey, the dog, barked once

And then sat there staring at me

With big, moist eyes as if he knew

He'd never see me again.

It was dawn and the dew was cold

On my bare feet

For I had crept out silently

Carrying my shoes and my suitcase.

"Goodbye, Mama." I said under my breath

"Goodbye, Daddy." "Goodbye, house."

For you were waiting down the highway

And when they'd awake, I'd be long gone.

Then a bluebird on the rooftop

Started singing and it made me cry

Starkly contrasted against Mama's red curtains

In that window frame of white.

How that image has stayed with me

All these years down all these roads

Dewey's eyes and the bluebird's song

And those red, red curtains

Faded now, I'm sure, to pink.

©Voo

July 28/07

THE LEGEND OF THREE TOED BOB

The Legend of Three Toed Bob

Bob ran the old chuck wagon

For the guys out on the trail

He cooked all day while they were away

And roped them back in with the smell.

Now, the boys, they all knew better

Than to inquire of Bob 'bout the fare

Cause Bob was a high strung and sensitive Yankee

And he sizzled and stewed with such care.

One hot day  Ole Daniel, the trail boss

Dared to embarrass Bob 'fore the bunch

And the very next day he was munching on hay

And had cactus and scorpion for lunch.

Stew was Bob's big specialty

Stew and a strange kind of bread

The men quietly ate and they all cleaned their plates

Though the grub, it went down just like lead.

Out on the drives, you're not picky

You eat what you get to survive

Bacon and beans and a soup full of strings

A pot roast made of stuff still alive.

Now Bob was a curious feller

Talked 'northern he did with no slang

He tried to rope steers after two or three beers

But of the sport, he could not get the hang.

Well, they say he was a butcher back east there

But was fired from each job that he found

Nearsighted, near blind, he'd leave pieces behind

Of his fingers and thumbs on the ground.

He couldn't cut meat too good with no digits

Though the Lord knows he tried hard to do it

He was forced to hold steaks with his toe then

And one day he, well, he cut right through it.

By the time he was fired, he had only three left

So he thought a career change was due

He hired himself out with a crew heading west

And now I'm singing his tale to you.

"Oh, Bob, oh, Bob, the three toed Yankee cook

Your stew is a legend and myth

We all love you so but what we wants to know

Is what do you hold your stew pots with?!?"

©by Voo

Oct 07

Cowboy Harmonica

                 

LILITH AND HER CHILDREN

Lilith and Her Children

Lilith, Queen of Darkness, reigns

In nether regions, dwells

Beyond the ports of hope and dreams

In realms of crimson hells

She longs to be a Lady

But demon will remain

Till all the souls of men are hers

And all the Life is drained

Lilith, Queen of Darkness, walks

In dead of night to seek

The children in their little beds

So innocent and meek

Kisses them with her poison mouth

Takes their sweet flavored breath

Pats their soft and tender flesh

And lays them down in death

Lilith, Queen of Darkness, longs

For worship and adoration

For subjects bowing at her throne

Their fear, her decoration

She does not love, she cannot love

She pretends to love the lost

But crushes them in her taloned hands

If they dare to touch the Cross

Lilith, Queen of Darkness, lies

Her words a fabled tale

She did not come from Paradise

But from the bowels of Hell

No apples from the trees of Eden

Have ever touched her mouth

She did not walk that cool green garden

For the angels kept her out

And so she walks this fallen field

And seeks men's souls to eat

The Queen of Darkness with wicked eyes

And lost children at her feet.

©by Voo

December 2, 2005 

6 pm.

O TO BE A SEAGULL

   O, To Be a SeaGull

O, to be a seagull

To sail the whispering sea

To catch the sun when day is done

And never need the tree.

O, to be a seagull

With nothing more to do

Than watch for food and catch it

And bathe within the blue.

O, to be a seagull

With freedom in my soul

Feathers ruffled with the wind

And days made out of gold.

O, to be a seagull

Not tethered to the earth

To know your purpose in this world

Between your death and birth.

O, to be a seagull

A common bird for sure

But special in my eyes so that

That bird, I wish I were.

 ©by Voo

May 29, 2010

1:51 a.m.

SHE KNOWS

 She Knows

The ocean waits for my waking

She lies quiet between the shorelines

Purring like a cat 
That dreams of cream

Yawning with the chill of new dawn,

I pull on clothes that smell of sand,

Stumble through the house still dark with night shade,

And throw open the door to a sunrise made by God

There she is, the love of my life!

The tides wave at me with their silvery-white fingers

Beckon me towards her with calls of love 
That too few men can hear

I can only stand there 
In amazement at her beauty

While morning wraps itself 
Around my drowsy shoulders now wide awake

The sea is my lover,

My muse and my temptation

Roaring in my ears

And whispering in my soul like no other can

The sun rises gold in an azure sky

And I can wait no longer

I run to her

My arms outstretched and longing

Laughing as she splashes my face in greeting

Where have you been? she asks

As she folds me in 
Her salty sweet embrace

I was dreaming of you, my love, I answer
Though words are not needed between us

Because she knows

She knows.

© By Voo

Jan 17. 2010

3:23 a.m.

For Larry Kuechlin

Poet/Surfer