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

Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Timber r r -

As I stand here for 600 years, and survey the landscape , of my foothills and valley, as far as I can see,
Never until recently, there has never been, lights on the horizon, when the sun sets daily, into the sea,
There is a species, I have caught wind of, I have heard from the birds and squirrels, its called humanity,
They have a need , they call it urban sprawl, to fullfill there life dreams, within their society.

To expand and grow, to achieve and succeed, from the bottom to the top, to climb their species ladder,
They need a home, made from my tree bones, to saw and build upon my lands, to them it doesnt matter,
They dont realize, that I inhale their carbon poison, and I exhale out their much needed oxygen,
Maybe someday, when the sky turns finally grey, even inhalers wont supplement air, of times gone and when.

So I stand, and I watch, upon days end horizons lights, as they move across the foothills and up the valley, and grow near,
I watch the scars of clearcuts grow closer, my family is cut down in their progressive thoughtless path, as we do treefully fear,
Until one day, the human came to claim, even the far hill of 600 years from which I stood, watched, breathed, lived, and resist,
To cut down my tree bones, to make many of little homes, for their species, to survive in a box, thrive and exist.

Inevetibly, one morning, the sky lead line yarder came near, with high line and 4 chokers ready to drop set,
The human in a hickory shirt, with his butterknife, did get ready, at my trunk marked with an X, to 2 cycle rip-roar, and blood let,
I felt the notch sting, I felt the backcut burn, I felt the white hot feel, of the chainsaws teeth ripping steel,
I spurt out my blood of xylem and phloem, I cannot believe this is my 600 years of respect I get, this is my end, it is so surreal.

I pass out from the pain, with my last view of the horizon, as Im rushing in the wind, one time, last again,
This time not standing, blowing, swaying in the breeze, but dying as I fall, and bust up and crash down, to remain.
The humans said ' Timber r r ', I guess thats my given human name ?
But my sapling offspring call me ' Hemlock ', and they will repopulate the hillside, to fight back, to once again, reclaim.

D.M. Beebe

Brother Dans 50th B-Day -

Good times are when, fun times are had, at my brother Dans 50th birthday,
Good times are when, the sun shines on us all, from above that timely day,
Good times are when, you enjoy all, many great people, everyones friends,
Good times are when, you talk with each other, into the sunsets orange ends.

When you socialize, learn and meet, interesting old and new friends,
To hear lifes stories, as the day sets slowly, until the sunset no longer suspends,
Spring forward in March, not us, no way, as we reluctantly acknowledge, but disobey,
We want to hold back time, BBQ, party all day and night, we do want to make time pay.

But time does somehow, strike our lifes clock, to give us its timely advise,
Somehow it finds our lifes hour, at our cost, to charge us its annual price,
And when we realize, that we might have finally at long last, eventually lost,
Because all of our lives are just a warm Spring thaw, or a cold Winters frost.

But my brother Dan to me, in and throughout, all of our lives changing Seasons,
In all four of them, through our lives, has given me many of perspective reasons,
No way, no how, could I have ever asked for a better brother, my constant protector,
I would have been lost without my brother Dan, my perpetual lifes harm deflector.

Good times is the thought, me and my brother Dan, will again experience lifes wonderous insight,
We will walk together, someday again, through our long lives brotherly path, to the magical light,
Good times is the thought, me and my brother Dan, will again learn about life, our struggle and strife,
We will talk together, someday again, as brothers always end up together, in the happy ever afterlife.

Love You Brother Dan & Happy 50th Birthday !