8/27/2005

Dashboard Beating Hicks

---the character "comer w.", I met in Santy Rosa while sitting in the back of my 71 toyota listing to a tape of Townes Van Zant..approached me telling me some crazy story that he knew townes...my thoughts...bs...hey you bum, next you gonna tell me you know jesus and budda...eventually he did introduce me to Townes in SF, who he knew from Nashville...Townes turned me on to the poetry (in book form) of Hank Sr...Comer was from Montgomery, and his tales told of taking Steve Young, after they had mecca at Hanks grave and drank 90 proof, down a road, a majestic southern road...Steve Young wrote SEVEN BRIDGES ROAD...there is something in us southern boys that the rest envy....comer w. was back on the west coast to make amends to his daughter who just finished highschool, as of 97, comer had 13 years in AA...like hank, townes slipped away on new years eve...


Down dusty Alabama roads,
Lester and Comer,
in Earls '49 Studebaker pickup,
like a ball of lighting they drove.

Lester doing the wheeling,
Comer sitting shotgun like a fat cat,
there tuning the radio to Virginia,
and Appalacian at that.

Lester drove faster than Flatt,
with Comer beating the dash,
Alabama rednecks in mid summer heat,
aheading to Montgomery's back streets.

Outside of Selma,
in a sudden Southern summer rain,
Redmud sticking to wornout tires,
couldn't stop this redneck fireball train.

Hank's a coming to Montgomery tonight,
the Wheeling announcer did say,
Comer beat the dashboard harder,
Merci Jesus, let us pray.

Two rednecks in a studebaker pickup,
high fashion in that day,
of Irish and Scotish ancesors,
their rednecks transcends till this day.

Beating the dash,
was more than a kick,
Hank's music was pure poetry,
to these Alabama hicks.

Setting the woods of fire,
for I saw the light,
to hear your cheating heart,
on a warm Montgomery night.

Driving faster than Flatt,
with Scrugg's "moon"lighting by the jug,
Comer pounding on the dash,
to the windowsill up above.

Swing wide your gate of love,
I'll never more roam,
these two Rednecks have kept their word,
for Montgomery's native son is coming home.

8/22/2005

JUS AN OLE BULL

...this is taken from my collection...SOUTHERN SKIES AND TRAIL BOSSES LIES...I HAD E MAILED IT TO BEN ZION NOTIFIYING THAT I WOULD NOT BE AT DR. VAN GIESONS RETIREMENT AS CHAIR OF THE ECON. DEPT...A WOMAN WHO I HAD HAD A CLASS WITH AND WHO EVENTUALLY AQUIRED HER LAW DEGREE, WHEREAS, I WENT UDDER ROUTES...INFORMED ME IT WAS MOST RECIEVED BY DICK...IT WAS NOT WRITTEN FOR HIM BUT INSPIRED BY A BULL I SAW IN THE PASTURE...TO BE A TRUE ECONOMIST, ONE HAS TO HAVE A LOT OF BULL, AND APPARENTLY DR VAN GIESON APPARENTLY HAD IT IN HIM, I ONLY TOOK HIM AS A TEACHER, NOT A BULL....ER.....

he is just an ole bull,
standing there, by the side of the road,
a freeway, where into the North Country,
it races, narrows, wrapping around,
those gentle species,
where the ferns and redwoods grow,
which mix with the doe and her fawn,
there grazing upon her floor,
where mushrooms and fungi flourish,
for this is her mix,
still, in his solitude,
he stands there, transfixed,
standing there, by the side of the road.

he, is just an ole bull,
with lines of age,
sags be where they may,
do note his many days,
grazing upon new spouted grass,
here in this valley,
as late Fall rains fall,
bringing this new growth,
as the big black oaks,
that circle his field,
and cover the nearby hills,
remove their Summer camouflauge,
barren becomes their limbs,
exposing, their lines, defining,
their age and form,
upon this valleys hills,
as he stands, just an ole bull,
there by the side of the road.

he, is jus an ole bull,
whose eyes gaze at the horizon,
and see the rising puffs of steam,
released from the geysers,
and watch the clouds,
float above Cobb and St. Helen mountains,
which when rain falls this night,
will drop a light snow,
there upon this land,
still, he stands in his solitude,
he, is jus an ole bull,
standing by the side of the road.

he, is just an ole bull,
and out of reach,
are golden poppies that flower,
emerge in this dark season,
our light through these darken days,
there among the new grass,
and his thoughts turn,
to that heifer who,
soon will give her first calf,
hopeful, that this be

8/21/2005

Homeage to Buck

this planet is filled with two legged beings walkin on their hind quarters, filled with grunts, in effort to communicate with other beings...few have earn this right, and the late BUCK RAMSEY whose verse and songs are greater than the exception, has ...after I first encountered this "Man", I had to pen some thoughts on him, now after re-settling on the ranch here, several months ago I finally managed to get the "airmail" box up in his honor...Buck Ramsey on the south side, and on the north is the title of one of the greatest verses written in this previous century...ANTHEM...(thoughts have been to post this verse, rather, I encourage seekers to find his verse and his music)...I feel most blessed to have had an audience with him shortly after he received his National Hertiage Award, luckily enough that same Elko night to catch the great Ramblin Jack Elliott with him, also who had recently gotten his NHA....some travel to Rome to kiss the popes ring, it was worth fighting the cold to get to Elko to kneal and touch the chair of Buck....it was hard to catch up with Buck as he rolled about Elko, for he was constantly in lead of from 20 to 30 who had to have what Buck had...like a she dog in heat...Buck had it. Buck was a sure fire Texas buckaroo.......

The canyon rim has been long and steep,
With grace the steed carried its rider,
For many years, a loyal companion,
Traveling the land they both loved,
And at times, the ride appeared to be,
A million miles of scrub.

Just a shepard, he was,
Out searching and comforting,
The strays and injured bovines,
The steed and rider lives together,
Were as close as a couple out on the floor,
Just a walsing, too grand for any applause.

Their time together, words can never speak
of it in a book,
And as a leaf falls from a mighty oak,
The steed gave away, we know know the tale,
and in ending this piece of prose,
I will announce,
that it is time to say,
that you are still a true to life Buck-a-roo.

8/16/2005

cats and curs

they are telling this story up in De Ridder about the feed store...it seems that a Louisiana cur dog...that is a high bred yellow dog favored by the ole time hog hunters, uncle john and fred spikes and such...a local citizen of that city twas walkin down the street with his cur 'some more', when off the banister of this fine porch jumped this persian beauty, and before lighting could strike the ground, that cat had whooped that cur dog...he had to be rushed by paramedics to the Baptist Hospital where his shredded particulars had to be severed, leaving him with a high pitch howl, if you could call it that...as soon as he had recovered physically, his owner took him out hunting for hogs up on upper Brushy Creek...the piney woods rooters had heard of what had happened, for it seems that words travel fast with the swine crowd...must be that muscadine wine they drank...well, these swine were just awaitin, they had made lais out of palmetto leaves and confederate roses and as that high pitch howl cur dog entered the woods, the snickering of those muscadine drunk piney woods rooters set in...full of off color comments of "his royal-hindness" while tossing out these palmetto\confederate rose lais before him as he entered the piney...as he tried to cur, his high pitch howl only set them off more...embarassed, his owner made ole "some more" jumped back into the truck...they headed to Houston and hired a big shot libel attorney and are suing this persian for bodily damages and humiliation unjustly inflicted on this innoncent yellow cur.....the case has not been brought to trial yet, for they cannot sequester a jury of his 'peers', and 99.99% of those interviewed for the jury have to be taken out of the court in hysterics...this trial will most likely take years to be resolved, and there will be no dependents to get the settlement, resulting from the injuries caused by the persian on this cur dog....stay tuned to court tv and fair and balanced newsnetworks for the latest update...

this was a close friend of mine...roscoe beauregard

8/15/2005

RUBY DONT TAKE YOUR LOVE TO TOWN

Ruby, oh ruby, dont take your love to town,
once you get there and walk around,
all you will find is a redbone hound,
and he will follow you around,
he gonna wanta take you,
way back into the country,
promissing a picnic,
down by the lake.

That picnic you two will partake,
this will be your first mistake,
for as he had promissed,
he will spread that picnic around,
there upon the ground,
and with his paw across your breast,
he will point to the stars above,
swearing his love is true.

By falls harvest moon,
fifteen pups you will have,
to follow you around,
and this you will final regret,
your lover hound,
he will be long gone,
heading down that lonesome highway,
and there you will hear his sound,
under a full cajun moon,
out following another scent.

Ruby, OH Ruby dont take your love to town.

beautify america DONT LITTER......

8/14/2005

hank williams bob dylan ian tyson

sometimes life is like a rollin stone, as we lay in the back seat of a cadillac, hopped up on pills south of the tennessee border, with a bottle of johnnie walker red slippin from our hand, still there is ole ian, whose song from his recent album, finally finding one copy in Houston some time back, possible the only copy in Houston...there are days when the spirit has to just set and listen, hank, bob, and recently this cut by Ian, (album songs from the gravel road), a poets words concerning something about the road...yes mr robert earl keen, the road does goes on forever...hwy 59, those west tejas highways, the road to abilene hwy 87, have traveled it crossing the river brazos in waco, and that road from el paso, is she still the queen of el paso....he asks....(in the song...the road to las cruces).....traveled north from las cruces made it to truth or conquences several years back, on my way to elko, found a place that made the caps for the truth or conquences police...he would not sell this cowboy a truth or conquences police cap.........something that only a poet can see in words...........

8/11/2005

size 8 quart bra!!!

am lookin for an eight tit bra for my female companion, it is shit having her howl because her tits are hitting the briars...been searching and all I can find is a two tit milk factory under the ownership of some "dolly" , mine is Ruby Blanche Boudreaux, ruby as in ruby dont take your love to town, and Blanche as from that bitch from Streetcar Desire...her tits hits the briars and this lets the coon know we are on their tail, and that long tall cowboy running naked behind us is screamin in pain, not smart enough to get his britches on when he heard me yep, at 3 in the morning, when I hit that coon trail.....with that tit draggin bitch yeppin and that naked cowboy with words unmentionable, ...and this is not buck naked, for they killed buck naked back in the panhandle of SF.....this is a cajun cowboy --wearing his walkin tall hat--who streaks past the swamp longhorns and vension on the trail, with eyes set aglow.........I am willin to pay good money for a sure fit bra for this bitch.....anything to shut her up......

posted by her companion for life....roscoe beauregard boudreaux.....