About Me

My photo
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

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