Great Dust Storm Disaster 1935

 Great Dust Storm Disaster 1935 

song written by Woody Guthrie recorded 5.2.2024 revealed by

World teacher Genius Wild Herb Ways solo acoustic guitar harmonica, grateful to the Valkyries at the Hof of Freya, for Friday and all the opportunities of Vanir for cats and pigs, thank you Goddess Freya for the Solomon seal, columbine and primrose, thank you revealing to us on your day Freyas-day, your necklace as Orion shining with rain and snow.

"On the 14th day of April of 1935,

There struck the worst of dust storms that ever filled the sky.

You could see that dust storm comin', the cloud looked deathlike black,

And through our mighty nation, it left a dreadful track.

From Oklahoma City to the Arizona line,

Dakota and Nebraska to the lazy Rio Grande,

It fell across our city like a curtain of black rolled down,

We thought it was our judgement, we thought it was our doom.

The radio reported, we listened with alarm,

The wild and windy actions of this great mysterious storm;

From Albuquerque and Clovis, and all New Mexico,

They said it was the blackest that ever they had saw.

From old Dodge City, Kansas, the dust had rung their knell,

And a few more comrades sleeping on top of old Boot Hill.

From Denver, Colorado, they said it blew so strong,

They thought that they could hold out, but they didn't know how long.

Our relatives were huddled into their oil boom shacks,

And the children they was cryin' as it whistled through the cracks.

And the family it was crowded into their little room,

They thought the world had ended, and they thought it was their doom.

The storm took place at sundown, it lasted through the night,

When we looked out next morning, we saw a terrible sight.

We saw outside our window where wheat fields they had grown

Was now a rippling ocean of dust the wind had blown.

It covered up our fences, it covered up our barns,

It covered up our tractors in this wild and dusty storm.

We loaded our jalopies and piled our families in,

We rattled down that highway to never come back again." -lyrics and music by Woody Guthrie

Sky Looking like Rain 1985

 Poems from the 1985-1991, 

playing bass and reading poems

1)Sky looking like Rain- Sheepherding with the drop bunch, 1985 Lambs dropping along Poison creek, draining the Owl Creeks into Boysen

2)Steve and Paul Meet the SageBrush, Artemisia tridentata, Riverton Wyoming, in the total unification with the sage brush, under blue sky, pink orange glow of sunset, soft cool sand, silent palmspwith an edge

3)Prayer After a Flood, Earth mother hear my prayer, seeking balance, bring me children, let me remain, i will be true to you, i live you earth mother

4) Slick Rock Oasis,  the spring on the Cock’s Comb, the Pariah 5, 1991, blackbrush, pinyon juniper, oaks and manzanita, keeping sweet like warren used to say, the slow gurgle of water, settling in the stomach

5) Gently Dancing OM poem from 1978, at the ashram, My Guru, walking barefoot in the snow at 20 below, ever blissful lord sri krishna, my guru’s name my perfect mantra,

6) Across a Blue Ball, climbing San Ysidro Peak Anza Borrego 1989, um na’ah, elephant tree resin medicine, able to see ocotillo tallest, mating nursing coyote mothers, near the palms, a voice just spoke through a raven beating a drum

At Imbolc

      At Imbolc...on occupied wah-haz-he land between the middle waters, at frost fog wolf moon,

darkest winter cottonwood budding, you are the genius da da, wild herb ways at Imbolc turning, Aun hah day, bear on its feet walking, thunder lightning, whirlwind, coming down, into the sun, Ursa major and Stella Maris, the polaris bear star of our mother, morning star woman, water woman, walking sunwise bringing bowls of deer meat, dried Ribes americanum, black currants nursing smiling woman, changing woman and her beautiful child, our sun’s and daughters with ten medicines.

The ten medicines are cottonwood bud medicine, monarda, soap root bear grass yucca, grindelia, prairie red root, butterfly weed, purple cone flower, purple flower vervain, spikenard, poleo, elm bark, estafiate and hawthorn and rose hip medicine.

Turns us to budding rising veriditas, the budding greening Christ light born of all mother Mary-ma, at yuletide Christmas, not only in hearts as the infant child but in plants and roots under fallen snow. Seeing the star gleaming in the sky over a house of bread. Our house of remedios, envisioned and built meade, warmed by fire and fed by beer and wine filled song. The house of bread is the house of abundance and storage of grain, salty cheese, of apple and dried walnuts, acorns, pine nuts, potatoes, carrots and pig fed on acorns, sour cabbage, and sausage.

The star shining over our necessary homes of bread, loss and gain, our grain of abundance. We are cautious to embrace the origin story of Imbolc in verse as it is blooming in us. When we look up at the night sky, turned and turning with the wheel with all our hopes, all our longing, with the deepest forlorn melancholy, the roads all filled with mud, staring at the twinklings, at the great bear clock that turns around polaris, half way between the winter solstice and the vernal equinox, here we meet our ancestor messengers.

While it’s said in between time with the thinning veil, comes at all hallows, remember son and daughter, your ancestors are more than names and letters. These ancestors are the flesh and muscle hanging on the bones of your face. Why do we honour our ancestors? Because these ancestors are the tears and laughter deepest impulses and longings, you had, they had with you.

It was every year they struggled and sighed and waited for the budding of cottonwood. In the political tent some may know their names in a list and some of you may not know a single name. Yet the one who knows a lengthy list and the one who knows nothing by their very breathing have a list as lengenthy as hills, as muddy as rivers and tallest as mountains. 

Genius Wild Herb Ways

 I am the genius Wild Herb Ways,

https://youtu.be/KiSyRxgcxRo?feature=shared

(Lyrics all music composed played recorded by the genius known as wild herb ways, take 1 no vocals 25.12.2023)

***Note: All living beings around us are significant forces with which we interact to our benefit. Our biospirit is of course nourished by interacting with others, our tribe, family and neighborhood. Why biospirit? Because we are more than physical bodies test tube, mechanical style. Our actual physical body is simultaneously spirit. Why or how this is so is again a mystery, beyond what little small me can understand and explain. It is just the way it is. For that reason we actually make offerings of actual pinyon pine sap, estafiate, dried manzanita leaves, juniper, canyon cedar, oak bark and as the fragrant smoke rises we bless ourselves and wish all people well. This is our blood and soil. In that way I bless not only one Eileen, but all Eileen's. If I was someplace else I would do it differently. I am here. 

     We are nourished by engaging with rocks, hills, mesas, mountains, plants both great and small, trees, water courses, and these things are likewise wanting to engage with us to our benefit, to our healing, to our medicine. Eileen is a woman's name meaning small bird. When I wish Eileen well, I am wishing that woman person well, and in so doing all women, all persons, even to Mukat and Temayawit, the small twin golden green birds who also created the entire world.  Wherever there are birds, there are bird songs. Wherever there are rocks and craggy peaks, there are rocks and craggy peaks to bless and be blessed. The genius of wild herb ways is where ever you are engaging with the genius creative force of living things, herbs and remedios.***

At winter solstice Yule, I am the genius wild herb ways 

...sun wheel circus gains victory

 in the air, Libra shifts, 

She bears crawl ‘round the sky. 

Blood and soil beaming from your eyes

At the spring ...emmori oaks of Odin Yggdrisal 

With the green, in four directions, little shining bird Eileen be well, little bird be well.

Your hairy salty pussy

Tastes of Kelp tide pools ‘pon the shore

Soft new grass ‘neath cottonwood

We fuck sage brush, spring root beer flowers

Mud baths pariah flows

Too thick to drink too thin to plough

At the spring ...emmori oaks of Odin Yggdrisal 

With the green, in four directions, little shining bird Eileen be well, little bird be well.

Golden chords of light around the tree.

With the green, in four directions, all be well.

Flower of winter you are witch hazel and snow flake.

In her grove of emmori oaks, in a circle golden sun.

With the green, in four directions, all be well.

Monarda emorii oaks beneath the snow.

Yerba santa and red slick rock, juniper and mistletoe..

Blood and soil shining in your eyes

burning round the wheel sky.

Flowing green blood of trees, alligator juniper pinyon pine.

Manzanita, silk tassel, cancer root beneath the ground.

Calling on candytuft first flower of spring.

Light is with us, before us, above us, below us, within us, surround us. 

Light beneath us, Light above us, Light beside us, Light of sacred sun wheel all around us.

Ocotillo black rock basin, palo verde iron wood..  

Gobernadora, bur sage, ambrosia green mothers.

Yule mother’s night blessings to all before us.

Blood our ancestors gone before, soil of fairies, wood nymphs from the corner of our eyes.

Monarda emorii oak, return these sacred groves, in all directions to taste your pollen tiny seeds.

Soil of roots, woody stems below blood father and mother. 

Come down from branches, enter roots, return your leaves.

Sacred land, sacred sex, mother bring your children home.

Where coyotes yip yap, and forests burn, gather the medicine.

Shortest day under longest night.

Horizon to horizon twinkling star dust pollen.

Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are, 

up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky. 

Twinkle twinkle little star.

Light return bears awake in spring.

Where else but here?

Who else but you? 

Whom else but I? 

When else but now? 

Sacred land, sacred sex, real work of returning.

Return sun’s golden flame in growing branches.

Green neolithic neandertal all mother we worship you.

Mary, of springs, streams, bogs, cliffs, glade, and woods. 

Wild forest, caves, grottos in her, through her.

4-fold blessing way, sacred land sacred sex, holy earth.

We must secure the existence of our people. 

All creation sings those words, sacred land, sacred sex.

Our mother of springs, streams, bogs, cliffs, glade, and woods.

Aspen shaking leaves turning to golden sun.

Return green mother on this longest night.

Horizon to horizon the hunter follows the turning bear, Axis mundi

Our life our sacred sex, celestial marriage sacred space, holy family, sacred place, of people faith returning green.

Sacred land sacred sex in daily bread.  

In her grove of emmori oaks, shining golden sun.

With the green, in four directions, little shining bird Eileen be well, little bird be well.