A blog about Arts & Entertainment.
Real Name: Lost Hills Gender: male Member Since: September 19, 2007 Last Signed In: October 14, 2008 Profile Views: 593 Blog Views: 776 Chinese Lanterns Sarah Palin Eaten By Polar Bear This land is your land? Running on empty..... Come out to support Sequoia Forestkeeper Monday evening. Good times at the Treehuggers Ball... Neil's Cadillac The Sound Of Silence Folk Music Legend Utah Phillips Passes From Ira Hayes to Brian Rand... September 07 October 07 November 07 December 07 January 08 February 08 March 08 April 08 May 08 June 08 July 08 August 08 September 08 October 08 
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"WASHINGTON — The Bush administration is sending strong signals that U.S. troop reductions in Iraq will slow or stop altogether this summer, a move that would jeopardize hopes of relieving strain on the Army and Marine Corps and revive debate over an open-ended U.S. commitment in Iraq." http://www.huffingtonpost.c... George W. told the nation that Iraq had nuclear weapons--- George W. lied. George W. told the nation this war would make us safer-- George W. lied. George W. told the nation that the troop escalation was just a temporary "surge." George W. lied to the nation. George W. told the nation that he would begin "drawing down" troop levels in Iraq this Spring-- George W. lied again. When is the nation going to stop listening to this liar? Peace Now! (video by Red Celtic, song by Tom Paxton) War is wrong, and Martin Luther King knew why. The rich benefit, and the common people suffer. The struggle for civil rights and opposition to the Vietnam war were intertwined for that reason. Today we have a different war, and it serves the purposes of the same corrupt leaders in the same way. And the same class of citizens pay the price.... Bush and Saddam had more in common than they had differences. And the ordinary people of the US and Iraq have more in common with each other than they do with their misleaders. War does not solve any problems in this world, my friends. War is the problem. Today we have the same old misleaders dragging us into the same old quagmires, but a voice for reason as eloquent as MLK's-- that is what is sorely missing. But the words he spoke back then have the same meaning and relevance today. So let us listen........ I used to live out there, for a time...
I still like to pass through every now and then, whenever I'm going to the coast.
I wouldn't drive out highway 46 if you put a gun to my head.
~
Highway 58
by Lost Hills
Out in this country all men are Kings.
And all the women can drink you under the table,
If you can find one...
The cattle own these hills once roamed by antelope.
Those fleet and curious beasts were consumed
By the skillets of the Boomers in the Valley.
~
Those gold camps and oil towns have vanished too,
Blown away by the winds that never sleep.
But the cattle remain...
Trudging to ancient water troughs,
Propelled by genes that go back to Spain, Africa,
And probably back to the dinosaurs.
~
They once said that all roads lead to Rome,
As if a road was like a river that flows to the sea.
But a road is not a river.
All roads lead to other roads, other trails, other visions,
Other memories...
And to lonely graves, scoured clean by the wind.
~
The coyote jogs down the middle of the road,
Tongue lolling in the morning breeze.
He is a friend of mine. He follows me down all these roads.
He is more than just a trickster...
He is the totem of the lost and lonely;
The faithful companion of all us weary wanderers.
~
Another windblown cowtown.
Two chrches, two bars and a grammar school.
Two paths to redemption, two paths to oblivion,
And one road out of here.
The Rodeo Queen found her own way out.
Married a rock star...
Partied with Belushi on the night he OD'd.
Yeah, baby, let the good times roll,
And there's a horse ranch in the divorce settlement.
Arabians...
~
Out on Huerhuero creek they made the hippies last stand
And their poetry still hangs in the breeze.
A well worn trail led up to the garden in the box canyon.
The Marijuanero tending his crop with a shotgun and water can.
Drawing down on a deer at the salt lick with an old .32 Winchester.
Playing Grateful Dead and Hank Williams
To the stoned sunset on a cheap guitar.
~
If that ain't country...
Beauregard running deer from here to Templeton,
Puzzling the coyote with his long drawn swamp dog calls.
When he wore himself out he would sit by the side of the road
Waiting for a kindly neighbor's pick-up truck.
Goddam hitch-hiking dawg...
~
The rivers here run dry,
But the whiskey and the gin will always flow free.
Anna pours her own grave from a rocking chair.
Cowboy Bob, crashing through fences in the night,
Sleeping it off on a mattress in the tractor shed.
Gospel music flying through the too bright rays of Sunday morning.
Now where's that truck?
~
The cowboys wear their spurs to bed.
They know their days are numbered, counted in
Cigarettes, beers, cups of coffee, and gallons of gasoline.
The Indians are not remembered by name.
The places where they camped now occupied
By abandoned diners and watering holes for cattle.
They all became cowboys in the end...
The skulls of their ancestors grinning under glass
In small town museums closed for lack of funding...
~
And then the breeze shifts,
We crest the ridge,
And I behold the waves of the endless sea.
For that is where the road leads on this moening,
At least in my own mind...
And the coyote waits on a hill for my return.
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