About Me

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Sometimes, I just need to go for a bicycle ride, on my Schwinn Cruiser, around the Loop Road, Rainclouds or Sunshine. And sometimes, when Lifes circumstances prevents me, I do it anyway, with Windy thoughts peddling circles in my mind. I am D.M. Beebe . . . Born July 07, 1967 in Seattle, Wa. Sprouted one hour away, due North East, in the fertile Tualco Valley. I didnt really ever go too far away from the Valley, as I didn’t need to. As Life in Tualco Valley, seems to have always intrigued me. As I pay attention to the Valley, I do notice the slight changes every day. Throughout the 4 Seasons, within the Valleys full Spectrum, Rainbow array. When I watch, and when I pay attention, I develop many reasons. To have many thoughts about Life, throughout my Lifes Seasons. So I think about Life, and about Nature, and Plants and Animals, and Humans. And how it unfolds, within my mind, and my thoughts, and my insights. And so I write Story Poems of my Lifes experiences, and of my observations. And so I go forth, to reveal my conclusions, of my slightly insane perceptions. Thank You for reading my Poems . . . D.M. Beebe

Friday, December 19, 2014

Short Story : All You Can Eat Bull Frog Legs Dinner Tonight, and Karaoke !

I was bored on a Saturday night so I drove to town looking for something to eat and something entertaining to do, by the way, my name is Fred Bogg.
If I had to describe myself, I would say I am a very round man, with big rubbery lips, and a bald head covered in liver spots, and oh ya, I have a big appetite.
I was fiddling with my radio when I saw a green neon sign illuminating over the Main Street sidewalk as I was driving by that read ' All You Can Eat Bull Frog Legs Dinner Tonight, and Karaoke ! '.
I thought to myself, that sounds really good, so I turned my diesel puffing truck around and found a spot to park out front as close as I could get because I dont like to walk too far if I dont have to.
I parked and got out, lit up a pre dinner smoke on the sidewalk 5 feet away from the entrance, and observed for 10 minutes all the customers inside eating, before I flicked my smoke down on the sidewalk, still burning, and then went inside.
By this time I was really hungry, especially after staring through the sidewalk window all of the distinguished locals thoroughly enjoying themselves upon the deep fried breaded Bull Frog Legs.
The hostess, a skinny little lady with green eyes, seated me in the corner at a small little table, as I was by myself and could only take up so much room in this busy establishment.
I didnt mind the corner table though, as I like to have my back to the wall, and can thus feel safe and protected while I eat, and can also watch all of the entertaining activity occurring in the busy establishment at the same time.
The waiter, a skinny little guy also with green eyes, took my order, and in no time brought me the special of the night, a jumbo sized platter of deep fried breaded Bull Frog Legs !
The whole time was very entertaining and the Karaoke for the night was different versions of ' Jeremiah Was a Bull Frog ' which for everyone , myself included, found to be very entertaining and enjoyable as I sipped my mighty fine wine.
I sat there and ate jumbo platter after jumbo platter of these mouth watering deep fried breaded Bull Frog Legs until I could eat no more, my stomach was so round and full that I needed to stretch and go outside and get some fresh air and have a satisfying after meal smoke.
I almost felt guilty, almost, at how cheap the bill was, as I paid my very affordable bill for my very satisfying deep fired breaded Bull Frog Legs Dinner and left a very generous 5% tip.
Then I went outside to the front sidewalk and lit up that refreshing after meal smoke and I took a big drag and exhaled my smoke which blew back inside before the entrance door shut.
I decided to go for a walk down the sidewalk and around the corner of the busy establishment and down the alley while I had my smoke.
As I walked down the alley and found myself at the backside of the busy establishment, I looked up and was met with a storm of activity going on back behind the building.
It was like a war zone scene colored in green and red with hundreds if not thousands of Bull Frogs everywhere !
Bull Frogs that had made it were wheeling around in squeaky wheelchairs with bloody bandaged Bull Frog stump legs leaving bloody wheelchair trails on the sticky pavement.
Some of them that had a tougher go at it in the kitchen were on the gurney with curtains drawn, alls I could hear was Clear ... Zap ! Clear ... Zap ! Didnt make it. Time ? Then Thump ! As they were flung into the dirty, bloody dumpster 15 feet away.
Some were in dirty, muddy, white 5 gallon buckets full of swamp water waiting to go into the kitchen on the back side of the building, I could hear sounds coming out, Chop ... Haruuump ! Chop ... Haruuump !
For some reason their big bulging Bull Frog eyes seemed full of fear as they haruuumped and watched through the open back door to the kitchen the human with black eyes and a white coat and big metal bloody cleaver chopping off their Bull Frog Legs.
As I puffed on my smoke I was confused and it didnt make sense as I am just a human, so I let out a big greasy deep fried Bull Frog Leg Belch that kinda sounded like Baruuump, and walked backed to my diesel puffing truck, got in, and drove my way back home.
As I drove home a torrential rainstorm was coming down and I could not avoid driving over at least 100 Frogs that were leaping and jumping all over the roadway.
When I got home and got to my porch by the swamp, feeling nice and full and and relaxed and satisfied, I lit up a evening smoke and realized it was a pretty quite night as I puffed on my smoke.
Normally the night time foggy air is filled with sounds of ribbiting and croaking coming from the back waterways, but it was quite tonight for some reason that I just couldnt understand as I am just a human.
Huh, oh well, I thought to myself, as I flicked my smoke down on the yard, still burning, and then thought, that sure was a good ' All You Can Eat Bull Frog Legs Dinner ', I hope they have that again next week.

D.M. Beebe

Friday, December 5, 2014

The old Ben Howard Road Winter's poem -

Back in the old Ben Howard Road neighborhood,
Time were different then, times were always good,
We all trusted, and we knew, who all are neighbors were,
We all as neighbors, were there for each other, to have that cup of sugar,

Some years, Winter's snow fell, and blanketed the Valley,
Out of the barns and sheds, came out the skates and sleds, and it was a fun time Wonderland rally,
Definitely days of old, definitely days of which I am Winter's time fond,
When we all skated and sledded together, on the old Haskel's Slough frozen pond,

Hot chocolate in a mug with cinnamon toast of course, in the humble old kitchen abode,
The moms always had ready for all of us kids, in any house along the old Ben Howard Road,
We all contributed, and we helped each other, as we all did get along,
Those days on the old Ben Howard Road, growing up together, where we all did certainly belong,

Maybe hike up to the cabin, way up beyond Stephen's Waterfall up on the hill,
Or walk the shortcut Trestle track to town, get ready to jump if you hear the BNSF whistle,
Dad worked for BNSF for 30 years, sometimes Dan and I went with him Ballard to Wenatchee,
Homeward bound through the Stevens Pass Tunnel, the Monroe jump off, then walk the Trestle track home did we,

Across the Skykomish River, it was a mile or so long Trestle track walk,
But when we got to the old Ben Howard Road, we would jump down, and not really then have much to talk,
Because we were 1/2 mile from home then, walking along the white line,
Frosty, frozen, white and icy, soon that hot chocolate and cinnamon toast will be yours, and will be mine !

You might think I have made things up, or you might think I have indulged,
But every account is true, making me reminisce and want to old times further divulge,
The old Ben Howard Road, with all of its grand, endearing, and fond memories,
What a great way to grow up, forever in my mind always, to write about this one and more future poem stories.

D. Matthew Beebe

Saturday, November 29, 2014

* * * Winter's Snow * * *

* * * One night when it was white * * * I wrote this note * * *

A pillow top mattress in the clouds above ,
A powdery blanket under our feet below ,
Reminds us all of younger times we love ,
The magical world of Winter’s Snow !

The snowflakes fall on the wind and blow ,
Our hearts and minds rekindle the past ,
Dance down to us all as they put on a show ,
Winter's Snow is here again at long last !

* * * D. Matthew Beebe * * *

Monday, November 24, 2014

Thanksgiving -

Family, friends, turkey, stuffing, cashews, cranberries, and pumpkin pie with whip cream,
The big dinner table, rustic wood stove fire warming the household, why does this sound like a dream ?
Thats because if you know how I write, this poem will express how I feel, and intros arent always what they seem,
That said, I hope everyone is with family and friends this holiday, and truly have a Happy Thanksgiving !

Pilgrims aboard the mayflower ships, cross the big blue atlantic, finally landing upon the plymouth rocks,
Disease ridden, rats abundant, supplies and coopers barrels empty, no more filled with salted pork hamhocks,
As our hardscrabble camps grow, the natives bring gifts to us upon harvest day of; maize, berries, gourds, and turkey tomcocks,
For the indigenous peoples we brought no gifts except; trouble, greed, the measles, and the pocks.

Ceremonial with compassion, care and concern, truly it must have been, trusting for the first Thanksgiving sake,
Indigenous and whites, must have had faith and hope in their hearts, and wanted to give then, more than they wanted to take,
The settlement camps grew, as did our numbers, as well as the white mans new law of the land,
Hindsight is 20/20, the natives could never have foreseen, the outcome of the great white leaders plan.

How far it has gone, since that day, in the wrong branching; hating, distrustful, destructive direction,
How far we have came back, the other way, never enough though, will there ever be a true resurrection ?
Land rights, water rights, fishing rights, hunting rights, reservations, casinos, and sovereign nations,
Thats all good, but what good does it do, when the great white leaders plan, is to incorporate and give back meager rations.

I hope that things will evolve in America, with which we did all migrate to, settle, and without asking, we did take,
Now there is current day immigrants, like 5 million from the south, no difference than us at the time, does it morally make, 
I dont know what the answer is, as the America of today can never be big enough, to make everyone sufficiently satisfied,
It seems like it has become not only the land for you and me, but also the land of the citizens with differences that divide.

Happy Thanksgiving

D. Matthew Beebe

Saturday, November 15, 2014

Seasons Call -

The Seasons do Fall,
But eventually, we will all,
Throughout our productive lives,

We all hear the whispering winds call.
Our tree trunk grows, only so wide and tall,
Our Autumns seeds float down, overwintering where they Fall,
Our colored leaves, blowing down with the Seasons, they too Fall,
Windy, stormy, rainy, frozen over, such is life, such is it all.
Warm Spring, and Warm Sunlight,
Spring forth we have to try, we have too try, with all of our might,
Breakfree from our seeds, from our shells protection,
To become citizens, good people, worthy of natural selection.
To grow and shoot up, and climb like vines through our life,
With our careers, with our spouse, with our offspring, with our strife,
As we teach them, our kids, as they are our saplings,
Of our cave wall writings, as they are our life learnings.
Amongst the world, from what we know, we do try to instill,
Of who we are, and believe, from our skill and our will,
That whats in your heart, and whats in your mind,
Is the meaning of life, your life and thoughts to share, with others to find.
So seek out your sunlight, so seek out your world,
As it is there for you to find, as it is there for you to ahold,
So grasp, shoot forth, grow tall, and conquer your canopy and your world,
As you only have one shot, to become a king or queen, and destiny to behold,
To enjoy, to realize, that the bright stars in the night skies above do exist,
For you, they are yours to see find, to achieve in life, to hold in your hand and mind, so do persist.
As time is of the essence, time is Seasons within us all ,
Time has its Season, and the Season all end, and will have a Fall,
So sow your seeds while the sun shines, grow them for you and us all,
As we all want to continue to exist, do you hear the Seasons Call ?
D. Matthew Beebe

Monday, October 20, 2014

The Curse of the Mummy -

Life makes us feel at times, like we barely exist, as we wear many constumes,
Covered and layered, we try daily to resist, as our many of lives resumes.
Lifes demands are layered upon us, from the inside out, underneath, and way deep down,
So existing we are, our bodies and minds, like Mummies, wrapped up and tightly bound.

Covered and layered, in busy preoccupied lives, look in our eyes, we are nowhere to be found,
Thoughts and minds are lobotomized, reality is buried in us, the fictitious self and society surround.
We all want to break free, try hard as we might, but nothing is ever unearthed or newfound,
So existing we are, our bodies and minds, like Mummies, wrapped up and tightly bound.

What can break our dirty, weeping, bandages free ?
What can unwravel ourselves, so we can be happy ?
Thought and mindset, optimism, positively, just maybe ?
What will the future have instore for us all, how do we awake and see ?

I peel away and unwravel myself, my bandages fall down to the floor,
I step out and away from the pile, I am not bound by the Mummies curse anymore.
I am set free now, I am happy, literally, in my body, and in my mind,
What a newfound sensation, I can finally be me now, after I was muted, and after I was blind.

We can all cut loose of lifes bandages, that bind us in self and society,
We can all relate and understand, we can all eventually regain our sanity.
Or we can all continue to be bound, by whatever it is, whatever it may be,
That makes us like cursed Mummies, mumbling as we walk through life, aimlessly.

Life is to short to be wrapped and bound, like a cursed Mummy,
So try to find happiness in yourself and life, so try to set yourself free.
From lifes bandages that bind you, so try to find yourself in life, and be happy,
Otherwise in the end, life can turn you, into a wrapped and bound cursed Mummy.

D. Matthew Beebe

Thursday, October 9, 2014

Frankenstein -

I awake confused and feel bizzare,
With fresh stitches and many o scar.
I look in the dirty and broken mirror,
My green skin and yellow eyes reflect fear.

What is this hideous experimental surgery ?
I am the doctor frankensteins emergency.
Who is this physically created monstrosity ?
I am a reanimated medical abnormality.

With gang green I am injected and infused,
My ? organs are transplanted and abused.
I am lightning storm volts short circuited,
My ? brain is sparking and berzerkuited.

The insane doctor frankenstein I must extinguish,
As no bride was made for myself to distinguish.
The township torches burn my castle of creation,
With fearfull pitchforks and screams of abomination.

D. Matthew Beebe

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

To Kill a Vampire -

Hunting hanging inverted, ye flutter hither,
Hide in ye casket, as the twilight makes thee wither,
Twist and squirm in agony, as the stake delivers the sliver,
The heart and liver writhe, as they tremble and quiver,
Screams echo through the ruins, but there is no evil forgiver,
Red raindrops drip a spatter a pither, forming into a bloody river.

D. Matthew Beebe

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

The Firepit Gazebo -

The radiant glow, surrounding The Firepit Gazebo campfire,
Is the need of us all, like the early primitive cavepeoples desire.
The safety, the embers warmth, and the overnight protection,
The human clanspeople in numbers, will evade predator detection.

Thousand of years of humanity have grown, from around the fire,
Mankinds safety and socializing, there is certainly no denyer.
If not for The Firepit Gazebo structure, today we would not exist,
Together, togather, to band against our world threats, to plan, fight, and resist.

So simple and powerful, is The Firepit Gazebo,
I have experienced its firepower, to absorb and to grow.
If you have ever, like me sometimes, have had black ash in your heart,
Thats the energy it absorbs and it burns out, giving anew spiritual start.

Radiated when I leave, my heart is green as a leaf,
The Firepit Gazebo gave me, a newfound philosophy and belief.
To carry on, to protect myself and others, with The Firepit Gazebo power,
To start a new day, blazing, like a spontaneous combustion flower.

No matter where you come from; food, warmth, shelter, safety, we can all appreciate,
The big anthropological picture, a common connection, we can all certainly relate.
There has been many good times for my family, friends and I, inside The Firepit Gazebo,
They are not gone because they are in our memories, to take with us in life as we go.

D. Matthew Beebe

Friday, September 19, 2014

Living by the River -

Rockbars, sandbanks, willows, and cottonwood trees,
Magnificent green water, natures sustaining constantly flowing giver.

Salmon, people, life, renewable energies, fisheries, estuaries,
Wonderful, turbulent, healing power, it does hydraulically deliver.

Families, memories, fishing, campfires, relax, float, explore, island safaris,
The Skykomish, the Sky Valley, whats better than Living by the River ?

D. Matthew Beebe

Humming Bird -

Back and forth, and in and through,
The Humming Bird floats, to me, to you.
Up and down, and here, and there,
Shhhhh, watch, or you will give them a scare.

The sugar water feeder, with the red flower,
Is the tempatation, giving them energy wing power.
Swoop, swish, buzz, zoom,
The Humming Bird, will come again soon.

Watch them fly away, where do they rest ?
3 seconds its takes them, to fly 1/4 mile away back to their nest.
Little babies they tend to, small as a seed,
They soon will hatch, and zoom around earth, wings shell freed.

I love the Humming Birds, during their feeding season, how they fight and court,
What a interesting little bird, what a elobarate sort.
We feed them sugar water, 1 cup sugar to 2 cups water,
Soas to help the Humming Bird family of, father, mother, son, and daughter.

D.M. Beebe

Facebook Society -

I wonder what this is all about ?
This socializing on the computer.

We give each other a selfie or a shout out,
Am I the entertained, or am I the entertainer ?

Do I really gives a $h!t ?
Highspeed interactions during the day.

Is my social time really worth it ?
Should I go, or should I stay ?

Does this really payoff, for the time that it consumes ?
All of the daily info, that I absorb and I am infused.

This facebook society of us, our uephoric life resumes,
A daily injection of nonsense, do I feel facebookely enthused ?

What does this all mean ?
I asked myself the hard question.

I thought about it for for awhile . . .
I found the answer, but I will keep it to myself and not mention.

D. Matthew Beebe

Great Big Leaf Maple Tree -

As I sit here under and lean my back against this Great Big Leaf Maple Tree,
Thoughts of life fall down like autumn leaves and spinning helicopters upon me.

Cracking my head open like a nut crowned with knowledge, wisdom, reality,
What would I do without this gift of perspective, that gives seasonal insight to me under its shade canopy ?

D. Matthew Beebe

Warm Spring -

Long Indian Summer, colorful crisp Fall, frozen white Winter, rainy Spring flood,
The Seasons leap and jump forward, as the winds howl and chimes ring,
By the thousands the Frogs crawl out of their sunlight warmed waterway mud,
To breath the fresh Spring air, as they ribbit and croak, to live another year, and sing.

D.M. Beebe

Trees and Friends -

Allow the light to filter and descend.

If you cast to big of a shadow,
Nothing within your perimeter will grow.

The air is cold, the ground is fallow,
Absent are friends, plenty are foe.

Learn to share the light and in the end,
After awhile it will begin to show.

By extending your branches upward and extend,
Friendships around you will begin to sew.

Allow the light to filter and descend.

D. Matthew Beebe

GooD DoG -

A good dog barks at night from the porch,
At mysterious threats looming in the moonlight.

Coyotes sneaking around with eyes glowing like a torch,
A good dog knows that something isnt right.

Scare them all away, protect the barnyard,
Keep them all at bay, gratitude do not discard.

Pat the good dog on the head, also a good dog handshake,
For all the threats he made fled, and the chickens they did not take.

D. Matthew Beebe

The Hoof Trimmer

His name is Mike Nichols and hes from the east side,
Theres lots of cattle that need hoof care to heal and subside.
If your lucky once in awhile he will work his way west,
To take care of your cows that need done what he does best.

Clipping, grinding, sanding, and medicine applying,
All the while on its side the heifer is lying.
He drives a multi colored ford truck with a clearcoat of dust,
Trailering a cow flippen contraption made up of hydraulics, steel, and rust.

I notice his tall leather boots Mike wears as he works,
This world needs more characters like Mike and alot less jerks.
Tough as they come but his face wears a big smile,
I admire Mike Nichols, you dont run into his kind but once in awhile.

D. Matthew Beebe

How Now Brown Cow ?

Moo Cows, any color, but especially brown ones are my favorite,
If you are from the city, sometime head out of town, to experience and to savor it.
Thats where you will find the locals, the farmers and the cows, the ones that labor it,
The tall green grass pastures, the manure drift in the valley air, local folks kinda favor it.

The bovine is always fine, if you are born with and grown up around the smell and sound,
The locals, the farmers, you will quickly find out, that they arent messen around.
Early AM you always have to walk through the muck and get your boots dirty,
Grab some gloves because you have to shovel some $h!t and make your efforts worthy.

But in the glowing sunsets days end, when the days work is never done,
You feel sureal, like your one with nature, but nature has definetely won.
An appreciative respect for the cow, as the bovine has its own will,
That ruminant species has taught you more, than a wheelbarrow can ever fill.

They have those big brown eyes, and different personalities, each in their own stubborn way,
But on the dairy farm, they become like family, and they look forward to seeing you everyday.
Those cows that you have a connection with, but you wonder why and how ?
Makes you think what is life really about, my best friends are all of those cows.

D. Matthew Beebe

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Soil -

Toil if you will, but wouldnt you rather,
Walk barefoot on the beach in the rain, a pitter a pather.
Go for a hike in the woods, maybe even climb a tree,
Tube down the sky river, explore a river island safari.

Toil if you will, but dont take too long,
When you can stop and think, and write a poem or a song.
Thoughts of life and love, and family and friends that you hold dear,
That keep you centered, and peel back lifes busy veneer.

Toil if you will, but the seasons wont slow,
The mind gets smarter, but the body starts to show.
The weathering of life, like autumns spent falling leaves,
Your old now and tell stories, that know one has the time for or believes.

Toil if you will, it doesnt matter but only to you now anyway,
Whatever keeps you going, and pre occupies your day.
In the end you will know, who has always cared and has been loyal,
As they stand there with tears falling down, while you are returned to the soil.

D. Matthew Beebe

Lemonade Sunlight -

I want to walk in the garden with you,
I want to walk through the day with you,
I want to walk into the sunset with you,
I want to walk through life with you.

If you want we can have a campfire tonight,
With a big bottle of wine it would be just right,
Together talking as the day turns to moonlight,
I think the grass and dirt path of life we made is just right.

The colors are so bright in the flower bed with you,
Try hard as I might to look at the flowers instead of you,
The sunsets colors in the garden is just right when Im with you,
But my favorite color is the color of your blonde and blue.

Life turns every day for us with the setting sunlight,
As long as were happy then everythings alright,
Lets try to enjoy and soak it up before its twilight,
Lets drink all we want of lifes lemonade sunlight.

D. Matthew Beebe

Killdeer -

The Killdeer were the very first sound,
I heard, as I surfaced, grasping for air, after I nearly drowned.
I gathered my senses, I saw the rockbar flock, gasping for breathe, as I looked around,
My near death experience, life flashed before my eyes, it was life changing, it was very profound.

The killdeer to me, make life very clear,
With their sound all of life, was again precious and dear.
I swam towards their sound, from my upsidedown kayaks river snag,
I reached the shore, as they were all around, my mind was confused, surreal, and vague.

I rested on the bank, with them for awhile, they were close by me, all of those Killdeer,
Diligently, intently, too me in that moment, they seemed welcoming and indear.
They looked and they hunted, through the water ripples and wrinkles,
Deep down into the sinkholes, for the perrywinkles.

I always think and remember that day, when I see my bird friends,
Those lanky legged grey blue creatures, that the spirit world sends.
To welcome me back, and greet me in their own way,
To my new chance at life, be more carefull . . . I think they surrounded me to say ?

D. Matthew Beebe

Dog Friends -

I remember green grass, purple clover, big buzzing bumblebees, and blue sky,
Giant cottonwood trees, leaves blowing in the wind, towering and swaying, patiently up high.
With my first dog friend, she was tolerant, nurturing, a female big great dane,
I was a young blonde haired blue eyed 1 year old boy, and I cant remember her name.

But I can still see, and I can imagine clearly, like we are still there together,
She watched over me, as I learned and I played in the yard, she was my dog protector.
I remembered that we talked in our own way, as we spent the summertime with each other,
Forehead to forehead, my teacher, my loyal canine mentor, she was my dog mother.

I have learned through my life, thinking back, I have always had a dog friend and protector,
Scrounge, Chance, D.O.G., Otter and Gracie, have always been my life friends and harms deflector.
My girls grew up with their own dog friend Abby, from a safeway cardboard box full of pups,
Her name was Abby, fuzzy orange, purple tongue, a classic chow protector full of growls and yups.

Abby watched over my girls, because they were also her own, as they were her pups,
She was their sister, then mother, seven years to their one, she grew up with and answered to their yups.
One day when Emily was 3 years old, and decided to walk off exploring to the back slough,
Through the corn field Abby brought her back, by leading her home to our valley echoing yelling cue.

That day as always Abby knew what to do, and if not for Abby that day, I dont know what I would do,
Things would have been different, and I would have not even been able, to have written this to you.
I think about all of my dog friends, how they have been there for me in my life, as the days flow and continue,
My life is and has been blessed, with my loyal friends that I love, and I say to them all, good dogs and I thank you.

D. Matthew Beebe

Northern Spy Apple Tree -

Years ago I was young, BB gun in hand, that day in the front yard,
I learned instantly, that I can be the evil, because I thought nature was for me to discard.
The red robin flew in, and landed atop the Northern Spy Apple Tree,
So innocent and trusting, the red robin did not know, that the evil to fear was me.

I raised, and I aimed, and I pulled slowly the trigger,
She squaked, and she fluttered, and she fell down through the branches, with no forgiver.
That day, and that sky, was filled with gentle flakes of snowfall,
It was so white, and it was so silent, but my actions ruined it all.

The red robin lay fluttering, not dead, making bloody snow angels, in the virgin snow,
The snow's white blanket was soaked, in her red robin's blood, to this day in my mind, it is still all aglow.
I knew and learned at that moment instantly, to let live and respect, and to let all creatures be,
But I was not done, I still had to show mercy, I had to finish her off, to set the wounded red robin free.

So I lowered, and I aimed, and I pulled the trigger quickly, that one last time,
At the moment I also killed part of myself, it was life changing and troubling, I had to make sense of it over time.
To this day, I still think about that red robin, just trying to make a winter's living,
Pecking away at the rotten apples, unlike me that day in the winter, when I was taking, even the apple tree was a giving.

Now when spring brings the searching, trusting, red robin to sing and to stay, I always remember that fatefull murderous day,
I learned to have a spititual respect with nature that day, as I stood there looking down, and the dead red robin motionlessly lay,
Slowly the snow fell through the sky down on us both that day, along with my frozen in time tears,
Its always in my mind to stay, the snowfall never covered it over, even after all these years.

I want to pick a apple from that Northern Spy Apple Tree.
I want that red robin to peck a apple from that Northern Spy Apple Tree.
At the cost of that red robin that day, I have learned to respect nature, my mind and eyes were opened, and I began to see.
And that is how I was taught to respect nature, and that this world is not just all about me.

D. Matthew Beebe

Abby -

A fuzzy chow orange pup, with a funny purple tongue,
Santa snuck under the tree one winter, when Emily was still young.
Sisters they were, precious commrades, there lives had just begun,
For now, time to explore through the seasons, life is full of playfull fun.

A few years past, 4 years actually, and along came Kelsey,
Another sister in the pack, sisters together, Abby the protector was she.
As time went by, to the girls, Abby became more of a mother,
Because in dog years, she aged 7 years to their one, now they are her 2 daughters.

Abby, to Denise and I, went from dog daughter, to dog sister, to dog mother,
We wish that in our life, our dog friends time was much longer.
With Abby there is certainly no other as loyal, we all gained respect from her stout heart,
Orange as a orangantang, loving family member was she, we did not never want to part.

But time and life has a way, of teaching us unwanted lessons,
That the best of us all, must have a end, and its suppose to be a blessing ?
So after many years, under darkeness, we laid Abby to rest, in the shady front flower bed,
With flowers and a blanket, that night while we dug, and all of our endless tears that we shed.

Abby still lives, in our hearts, and our time spent with her life teachings,
Now Otter, and Gracie she taught, have taken over from the porch, with their loyalty, bark, their preachings,
But the thing we will miss most, from Abby, good girl, our family member,
Is her love, and her endless protective loyalty, that she gave to our family, we will always remember.

We Love You Abby.

D. Matthew Beebe

La Push -

Many of my generations have ridden the whitecapped currents water ferry, across the puget sound,
Passengers on a rumbling vessel to the ends of washington's earth, my family is onboard and abound.
Anxiously we drive over hoods canal bridge, and cautiously around the deep blue lake crescent,
Thats when the family memories and stories start to bubble and surface, and it starts to get remenicent.

We talk and imagine, and feel and smell the salt air, before we can actually see,
La Push, our family vacation destination, upon the great green pacific sea.
James island, there it is through the fog, past the breakers, upon its own beach,
We finally have arrived, we are here now at longlast, within the La Push reach.

We check in, but wait to unload as we hurry with our dogs, to take a walk on first beach,
Memories to be made on the Quileutes, it is ours again, the next generations to teach.
Quiant little gable vaulted lofted cabins, back behind the drift wood log pile,
In the timberline back where we rest protected, in the trees for the nightswhile.

We hike the next day on trails through the mossy rain forest, and explore beaches two and three,
If its your desire, you can camp in your tent if you wish, down by the surf, and have a overnight safari.
Starfish, anenomies, jellyfish, hermit crabs, ride on the wind, do the squawking seagulls,
Seastacks, waves crash upon the shore, like it breathes in and out, as the endless surf lulls.

Surfside dreams end as you wake in the morn, only to witness another seaside glorious day,
Sunshine seafoam splashing surf, a new day is born, what a view making life all of a magnificent display.
6 generations of my family now have visited upon these shores, all were inspired and made memories adorned,
Many barefoot tracks in the beach sand, upon the ends of the earth, where the water meets the land atorn.

We all walk and ponder on the beaches of the world, exploring surf and self, collecting and gathering natures gifts,
The earth and its trees, with its waters and cool breeze, washes away our busy life, as the sands of time constantly shifts.
People and animals, and plants and earth, the recycling environment, that we are all born into, exist and live in,
With us and the next generations, everyday the waves will crash upon the shore, life will always end, life will always begin.

D. Matthew Beebe

Thursday, August 14, 2014

Viva Las Vegas Baby -

Las Vegas, what a hedonistic waste of us,
Humanity at its worst, the city must be cursed.
Sin City, desolate hot wasteland of no integrity, mercy, or pity.
Strike it rich, lucky seven, put it all on red, big jackpot,

With hard earned paychecks fortures are sought, but never bought.

Sex, drugs, alcohol, gambling,
Degradation, desperation, dangerous, hustling and bustling.
Loud music and bright lights try to mask the reality,
That underneath it all is a bad element of human mentality.

Is this what would become of society if given the option ?
Sacrifice it all and sell your morals at the auction.
Ethics only exist inside the casinos bank vaults,
Risk everything and go crazy because in Vegas Baby there are no faults.

People voluntarily fly into the middle of the playground, hells desert,
Ignoring the heat wave as their sensory overload hides the dehydration alert.
Hard core addictions, religious predictions, in this case just might be true ?
Just think if no electricity or water, Sodom and Gomorrah's caos would surely ensue.

D. Matthew Beebe

4th of July -

I like my freedom,
The red, white, and blue.
Our countries kingdom,
Held by me, and held by you.

America the beautiful, the US of A,
Americans we are, we make the world of today.
Together as a nation, accomplish anything yes we can,
Respect our way of life, our homeland and countryman.

We are strong united as a nation,
Standing together side by side.
Believe in yourself and our countries creation,
Strong against time and tide.

Our independence is symbolized by fireworks bursting in the air,
Taste and smell of sulfur, patriotism is everywhere.
Star spangled blast waves, echo through the night sky,
Fly the banner everyday, fly the flag up high.

Happy Birthday America !

D. Matthew Beebe

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Make Hay While The Sun Shines -

Make hay, while the summer sun shines,
Muscles get sore, bones are gonna grind.
Sunny, hot as hell, dusty and itchy too,
Gotta get r' done, gotta work through.

It takes a few days, if the weather doesnt fight,
To make the hay, to get it just right.
Cut, ted, bale, pickup the field,
Get it In the barn, then count your yield.

Hurry up, cant wait, its gonna rain,
Bust ass, otherwise, its all in vain.
Dont wanna mess it up, after all, at longlast,
The weather channel is not, the farmers forecast.

The sunsets in the field, but your not done,
Keep worken deep into the night, thats when it starts get n' fun,
Headlights, shadows, silohouettes, coyotos, and screach owls,
Truck and trailer, loud shouts, stop and go, swear words, lots of vowels.

When your all through, and you are done,
You worked hard together, making it family fun.
Some might not think so, but think back they will,
What a special time it was, memories it does fill.

Build character is does, mental and physical strength,
Im proud of my family, to no end, at long length.
I hope when Im old, and they tend to the fields,
They remember the old times, the next generation, the new yields.

D. Matthew Beebe

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

August Full Moon -

The galactic solstice, with the eastern horizon full moonrise illumination,
Shines very brightly tonight, over this great bountiful frontier nation.
Another lifes quarter has gone by, seams to me like reason for celebration,
Bonfires are in order, glowing embers float and fly up, to the stellar heavens creation.

Nightime starry skies, sparks brighten, as they create a burning illuminescence,
The seasons cry, with every upward spiralling luminous spirit incandescense.
Thoughts of those that have traveled like comets already, towards the almighty presence,
When they get there, they will certainly know, as they are welcomed without hesistance.

For those of us left down here on Earth, with our worldly ambitions and asperations,
Time we have, to make time to reflect and understand, and concentrate upon our lifes devotions.
Family, friends, neighbors, people we know and care about, all of our loved ones,
Life offers us chances, to make it not anti-matter, with a big-bang cosmic impact, before we are done.

As the seasons go by, with gravitational pull, the galactic solstices mark the way,
Want it or not, they dont stop, the starry keepers of time, tomorrow, yesterday, and today.
They remind us all, with their stellar clock, of our limited lifespand, with which there is no resistance,
That our galaxy, like us all, must go supernova, a temporary magical biosphere of stardust existance.

D. Matthew Beebe