Thursday, December 31, 2009



See the penguins, semi circle

Hopping, wildly

See the several centers

Rising mildly

See the sole penguins

Gather all around

Hear their flapping

Hear their clapping

Hear the present penguins

Baboons chose as leader

By who’s the stronger

On the other hand with penguins

It’s who will flap the longer


Blessed be the white man

Who has resurrected himself?

Moved hands of time

With his worthless wealth

Calling upon all his gods

And paying at the shrine

Certainly gods’ must work overtime


The time the paper mill exploded

The found out the watchman

Was loaded

And they couldn’t believe the news

And they couldn’t believe their ears

It’s been working so good for so many years


The epidemic

Spread and spread

The carrier, was money

They said

And it spread and it spread

And it spread….


A poem from December 1972

It was seen happening, by the Millhouse stream

The fantastic maneuvers, of the election machine

Turned up to early, by the Watergates rush

It came down from the Millhouse

In a fearful gush

Riding in view, for all to observe

The election machine maneuvers

Its rumbling can be heard

It is now time, for all to ride

Catching the wind on the rising tide

Had one been in the Millhouse

He surely would have died

But down by the Millhouse stream

The Watergates rush, seemed to carry, the election machine

On a voyage, serene

For all to observe, and yet not see

Constitutes wonderment, how this could be.


December 1976

Jimmy Harper, December 1976

Well it was real nice, getting your letter. Elizabeth and I enjoyed reading it; Lillian remembers you and still likes those little books. She is doing better now and talking and when we fuss with her she just fusses back at us. She’s a good little girl. Elizabeth is taking her GED soon and hopes to become an accountant, there are some courses offered. I am good with numbers too. I’ve given some considerable thought with masonry and still pursue my plumbing. We don’t want to make money anyways we just want to live and love. Work together with an end, be happy which we already are, but not get involved with anyone. The way to go is light as possible. But never the less, it something to try, it’s all just paper and ink, even the dollar, and anything that is tangible isn’t for the heart but the hand. The things for the heart are all the things nature gives and you know that.

I remember all those things I learned from you. I remember the farm and how you always had to worry about the numbers. All the things that the land had to offer, to see the planting, the cultivating, the waiting, the growing, the harvest is to see life and death to continual process to see the animals, trees and water, which I know must’ve kept you moving. I guess it must’ve done something to me. The seasons affect the way I am. I know that you know, but I don’t think many people know why? I think that’s the most important thing I know.

There are not many days that I don’t think about that old house of your father and mothers and that little creek in my mind. I wrote a lot of poems about 800. People that I read them to enjoy my poems. I enjoy writing them and reading them also. Some of them just come to me and as I write them they come out perfect and others I have to edit because the verses sometimes don’t correspond. I’ve done it a lot so now I can criticize them. I think a lot. I also write songs and play them.

I was never much of a son to you and I wish I would’ve listen to you more often. I’m glad I learned what little I have. The snow out here doesn’t effect no one until its about 2 feet deep. The snow falls different here then out on the low lands. The mountains and the winter show you just how small man is.

Sometimes I feel like an old farm boy who someday will get to go home. Compared to you I’ll always be a boy. I’m going to send you some poems, one from every year, starting in 1972. Someday I’ll be famous jimmy Harper. I hope you have a good birthday and Christmas. Dale

good old days...

Thursday, July 16, 2009


The Lovely Miss Daisy ~

I totally understand and I dig what you’re saying about not caring anymore or trying to be happy or even being happy being unhappy. I can relate. I’ve been there for awhile now.
I think that’s what called comfortably numb. I think it’s a good yet dangerous place to be.
At least you’re (I’m too, but for sake of the way things are said) we stay content and not bitching. You’re not being obstructive and not bringing anyone else down. I at least hope that you hope for more, for deeper, richer life perhaps someday. You know like don’t give up?

Maybe it goes back to the “circle” we’ve discussed. I know I’ve made a few through my experience in my mind, my third eye visions and calculations and even when I tripped on acid. I feel complete by the things I’ve learned. Even though one thing I learned is that I’m not really complete at all. Now does that make sense to you?

I’ve really enjoyed getting your mail, baby. It makes me smile and makes my day. I say to myself that girl is cool and in my world that’s a compliment. For what it’s worth.

I don’t know how much more I can write to you. I’m not getting along with my folks. Don’t forget me. Send me your smiles and all your sensual kisses.
And don’t ever stop dreaming, with kaleidoscope eyes ~ Mark


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Saturday, May 2, 2009

happy birthday dad...

Mom wishes she was making you lemon pie today.

Thanks for the love and gift of life...

we miss you daddy!

Amen ~

Monday, April 13, 2009


Dear Dale,

It will be
What ever it is you’re looking for
It will be
What ever it is you need
It will be better
Even though I know you’re not sure
Remember the rain even comes down
In Shargri-La
Look up as it soaks into your skin
And remember who you are
Come on home
When the road you’ve been walking gets too long
Don’t be scared cause the grass
You thought was greener isn’t there
You can come on home
If you find the sun don’t shine through
Every window
If you find the moon light night
Still makes you blue
If you find out why you feel
The way you do
Glance over your shoulder boy
You know I’ll be there
I’ve found you in the past you know
Sometimes life isn’t fair so…
Come on home
When the road that you’ve been walking gets too long
Come on home
My sweet baby
I love you so… Freya Elizabeth