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

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