Just A Little Inspiration

I haven’t had much time for writing on the blog lately, but I felt the need to post something useful.  So below is a compilation of some of the poems that have appeared on this site over the last year or so.  Between them, I think they express most of the emotions that the good folks working to save their communities and their landscape have been feeling.  I hope you enjoy.

Just a reminder:  If you enjoy this sort of poetry, copies of my book, “Words On The Wind–One Man’s Poems And Prose On The Battle To Save Rural Maine From Industrial Wind Development” are still available.  The signed, numbered, limited first edition, with full color photographs, is just $12.00, shipped anywhere in the world.  The poems below are not from the book.

DC

Mega Fauna

Have you ever known a place where the deer went over 300 pounds, and were sometimes chased by ‘coyotes’ that were on the upper side of 100 pounds?  Have you ever seen a place that could grow moose to three quarters of a ton?  Have you ever walked in the tracks of a 400 pound bear, or stalked through the same woods as a man sized cat?

I have.

If you knew of such a place, would you cherish it as a special gift?

I do.

If this place was a hidden gem, all but unknown to the outside world, would you consider yourself privileged to live there?

I did.

If such a place were threatened with destruction, would you do everything in your power to save it?

I would.

And still, the people ‘in charge,’ just don’t get it……..or simply don’t care……………….

Where The Wild Things Go

I have to ask—when will it end?

Will I be among the last to know the things that I know?

Will future genrations be left to wonder—where did the Wild Things go?

When I was a child

I was drawn to the wild

And I was allowed to go

Where the Wild Things go

When I was a kid

I did as they did

And was lucky to grow

Like the Wild Things grow

As a young man

I was a part of the Plan

And was privaleged to know

What the Wild Things know

As I grew old

My heart became cold

At how little men cared

About how the Wild Things fared

The destruction I’ve seen

Is terribly mean

I’ve watched my fellow Man

Destroy my Wild Clan

Now I walk the hills

Looking at the wind mills

And I need to know…..

Where, oh where, did the Wild Things go

Springtime In The Mountains

Outside the peepers are a peeping

As inside I lay sleeping

Through the cellar walls the water’s seeping

While from the fields the snow is creeping

The Sun is getting strong

And the days are getting long

Nothing could be wrong

As the birds sing their spring song

I went out without knowing

Just where I was going

But the South Wind was a blowing

And the brook was strongly flowing

On the Mountain I walked up

And I took my old tin cup

To the spring hole with my pup

On spring water for to sup

We had a look around

Me and my old hound

We know every sight and sound

On this piece of Sacred Ground

This is a special place

And as one who holds an Ace

The look upon my face

Was one of simple Grace

I wandered and I walked

And to my dog I talked

And he never once balked

As through the woods we stalked

This place it was pure

And I was always sure

That no matter how much I mature

It would still endure

The trees and rocky ledges

And the brooks along the edges

The high Mountain sedges

Purer than the garden hedges

The birds and honey bees

And a hundred kinds of trees

To wander through as I please

Or as a place to pray upon my knees

The deer and the black bear

And my friend the hare

They all live up there

With room enough to spare

I was contemplating

This place where there is no hating

Only simple waiting

For the hungers that need sating

When the ground began to shake

And the Earth began to quake

No sense did it make

And I knew not which path to take

The animals all began to run

As if chased with a gun

It wasn’t any fun

As we fled into the sun

I awoke from my dream

With a frightful scream

And just across the stream

I saw the construction team

They had tractors and big trucks

And we were sitting ducks

This projects was big bucks

And we were out of luck

My home would be destroyed

This was why they were employed

The Mountains that I’d enjoyed

Would be killed as the turbines were deployed

It’s springtime here in Maine

And I can feel the pain

For through the misting rain

I can see what will never be again

Why Should I Care?

I know it’s wrong

But I really don’t care

It isn’t my home

I don’t live up there

I’m making money

Stealing Tax Payer’s green

And I don’t live there

You know what I mean

I know it’s wrong

To kill bats and birds

To slaughter them all

Like the old cattle herds

Lemmings and Mayflies

Deer and Bear too

I won’t let them keep me

From what I want to do

I know it’s wrong

To mud up the brooks

But we don’t give a damn

Me, and my fellow crooks

The Trout and the Salmon

And the Fisherman too

They’ve no right to keep me

From what I want to do

I know it’s wrong

To de-value the land

But to torment the locals

Is all part of the plan

If they can’t live there

Then they’ll move away

With no neighbors to scream

LURC is easy to sway

I know it’s wrong

To destroy local jobs

But I don’t give a damn

For those local slobs

I’ll just tell them ‘it’s green’

And smile and grin

I’ll promise them jobs

While their children grow thin

I know it’s wrong

To steal Public Money

But this new wind scam

Is all milk and honey

I can rape Mountains

And defile the hills

As long as I say

‘it stops oil spills’

I know it’s wrong

To lie and to cheat

But it’s my turn to suck

From the Government teat

The Tax Payers pay

And so does the land

By calling it ‘green’

I get a free hand

I know it’s wrong

To call a thing ‘green’

That destroys the environment

It’s really obscene

But we simply don’t care

My partners and me

We’re just here for the money

As I’m sure you can see

I know it’s wrong

To betray Public trust

But you must understand

How for power I lust

Now we’ve got to hurry

We’ve got to be slick

I’m afraid that the people

Are on to our trick

I know it’s wrong

But I really don’t care

It isn’t my home

I don’t live up there

If They’ve Only A Place Left To Stand

My Mountains are all disappearing

The places that I’ve always loved

I fear that the time it is nearing

When People and Mountains get shoved

Get shoved and get beaten and bullied

Get stepped on and then thrown aside

To watch as our Homeland is sullied

The land where our Forefathers died

The land where our Forefathers died

To give us The Land Of The Free

They fought with great courage and honor and pride

And left a great legacy for you and for me

But it seems we have now dropped the ball

Let the dishonest and corrupt take the lead

They don’t care about what’s best for all

These men that are driven by greed

All they care for is money

Money, and power, of course

It’s not that they want all the honey

Just that portion that you claim as yours

These men all are corrupt, each of them liars and cheats

It’s not about wind, oil, gas, solar, coal

They just want to keep their high seats

While you cower with your begging bowl

They defile the land and corrupt the laws

That our Constitution had once guaranteed

They lick their jowls and rub their paws

Thinking of People in need

For a People in need can be controlled

Self sufficiency can’t be allowed

The peasants each must do as they’re told

Must always go along with the crowd

They must shut down the thinker

Stifle all questions and thought

Only then can men tinker

With values that couldn’t be bought

When the majority have all fallen in line

Then they attack the land

Blow up the Mountains and cut the Pine

So that we’ve no place to make our stand

For Free Men will always fight

For God, Country, Family and Land

Some will always stand up and do right

If they’ve only a place left to stand

So those that wish to control us

Must first be in control of the land

And what better way than to show us

That they have a plan that is grand

If only we’ll blow up the Mountains

To put up their wind machines

The money will spew forth from fountains

And we can all happily call ourselves ‘Greens’

Forget that we will destroy the lands

And poison all the waters

Don’t mention that we’ve bound the hands

Of our Sons and Daughters

Just go along and do your part

Tell yourself that you’re saving the Earth

While all along you know in your heart

That your handlers are writhing in mirth

This is what the most will do

This is what your handlers need

If you’ll just do what you’re told to do

Then they can feed their greed

But some will always stand and fight

For God, Country, Family and Land

Some will always stand for right

If they’ve only a place left to stand………………..

If You Want Things To Be Right

If you want things to be right

Then you need to join the fight

Don’t be a Big Wind pawn

When the battle lines are drawn

Come join us in Augusta

I know by now you musta

Heard the battle cry

And you know it’s do, or die

We must all do our part

To prove that it’s not smart

To blast our Mountain tops

To erect these hopeless flops

It isn’t worth the money

That we’re flushing down the dunny

They build these great big wrecks

And tell US to write the checks

They blow our Mountains all to Hell

And then say we’re doing well

They tell us that it’s good

To destroy our neighborhood

But we see through their lies

And we’re gonna open eyes

It’s the truth we’re gonna tell

And Big Wind can go to Hell

We’ll tell the Legislators

That this ain’t like growin’ taters

Big Wind isn’t good for Maine

In fact, it’s just a pain

The whole truth must be told

Before our State is sold

For thirty pieces of silver

Which is just enough to kill Her

Maine is not for sale

Big Wind should tuck its tail

And beat tracks toward the south

Before another lie comes from its mouth

We’ve used the voting booth

And now we demand the truth

For if the truth is told

Maine never will be sold

But if the truth is to be told

Then we must all be bold

We must all be there

To ensure that things are fair

If we don’t all show up

The system’s so corrupt

That Big Wind will get its way

And we will loose the day

But that isn’t gonna happen

That’s why on these keys I’m tappin’

To get the message through

That what we need is YOU

We need you to be there

To ensure that things are fair

And if you’re feeling meek

You don’t even have to speak

Just to show up is enough

Because it’s awful tough

For Legislators to ignore

Voters standing in the door

Please join us in Augusta

Because by now you musta

Come to understand

That we need a helping hand

We need every woman and man

Whoever possibly can

To show up and stand their ground

So that justice can be found

If we do this right

We could end this fight

A few strokes of a pen

And Maine is safe, again

But that isn’t gonna be

Unless you and me

Bother to go there

To show them that we care

It’s numbers now that count

And we need a large amount

To counteract the lies

And open the Legislature’s eyes

If you want things to be right

Then you need to join the fight

Don’t be a Big Wind pawn

When the battle lines are drawn

Come join us in Augusta

I know by now you musta

Heard the battle cry

And you know it’s do…..or die

Remember

Do you remember the days when surviving, meant bringing home game and fish

When you lived on salted dandelion greens, and a venison mince meat dish

Do you remember the days way back yonder, when all good men loved the woods

When a love of family, and a love of right, meant more than a love of goods

Do you remember the times, when all men knew the facts

When all men knew it was wrong, to destroy the wild tracts

Do you remember when men, worked in the woods all day

And were happy to see the springtime, when they could draw their honest pay

Do you remember when heating your home, meant cutting ten cord of wood

And you were happy to do it, ’cause the honest sweat felt good

Do you remember the time, when you were ever so sure

That energy independance, was yours forever more

Every man had his own woodlot, and every man had his own axe

Every man boiled his own pot, and it wasn’t the Gov’mint’s to tax

He lived by the sweat of his labor, and it never crossed his mind

To do anything against his neighbor, or to treat the land unkind

And then the world began changing, and certainly not to the good

Sudenly men were all scrambling, and laying waste to the woods

When the trees were all cut, and all of the wildlands smashed

Then along came a totally new scam, with many new checks to be cashed

Atop those sacred Mountains, where generations had worked

They put up useless turbines, while the politicians smirked

They knew the machines were useless, would never pay their way

But none of that really mattered, the destruction was here now to stay

They blasted the Mountain tops, and killed off the vernal pools

They paid off all the right people, to say that they followed the rules

And now the once proud North Land, is but a sorry sight

Gone are the pines and the woodsmen, the People just gave up the fight

Do you remember the days when surviving, meant knowing that every man

Was dependant upon the Wild Things, and was just part of a bigger Plan

Do you remember your Fathers, and their Fathers before them, too

Telling you that you must always, remember the right things to do

For once a man’s feet are removed from the Earth, that’s the begining of the end

He’ll forget where he came from, and where he was going, and what he was born to defend

He forgets how to do the right thing, and he forgets what his Grandfathers knew

He’ll turn over his birthright, his heritage, and his future…all for a dollar or two

Lucky are those who remember, blessed are those who hold out

Damned are the ones who just whimper, afraid now to stand up and shout

Keep your Axe well whetted, and always keep handy the gun

The good days may well yet return, the battle is yet to be won

But the only way that mankind, will have even the slightest prayer

Is if all of those on the inside, remember the value of all that out there

I Met A Woodsman Walking

I met a woodsman walking

And with him I fell to talking

He told me of the days

When all men knew the ways

Of living with the land

And walking hand in hand

With God’s natural laws

And they did it just because

He knew how to hunt and fish

And a boy could never wish

To find a better teacher

Or a more honest preacher

He spoke of the simple ways

That men knew in olden days

When each man understood

That he depended on the woods

He told me many stories

And he wove in allegories

The truth of what he said

Is still running through my head

Then he told me that I should

Always respect the woods

That all life was a gift

And that my eyes I now should lift

I lifted up my head

And my heart it filled with dread

For there upon the Mountain

Were turbines beyond countin’

The Mountain top was blasted

And while the moment lasted

I could feel the fear

That was running through the deer

That was running through the bear

And everything that lived up there

The fear was very real

And it was there for all to feel

I had opened up my heart

And I got quite a start

When I felt the Mountain cry

I thought sure that I would die

The connection it was real

And it was there for all to feel

If they would just open up their Soul

To the world as a whole

There is no denying

That I started crying

Feeling the natural shame

For what had become of Maine

When the Mountains are all gone

It will not be long

Before mankind will follow

Into the abysmal hollow

I turned to my new friend

To ask about the end

For he seemed to know

The way that things would go

But when I looked around

There upon the ground

Was not a single track

So I s’pose….he just went back

The Eagle And The Rainbow

What does it mean when times are lean

And a man is feeling low

And he looks to the sky, where there on high

Soars the Eagle and the Rainbow

When times are tough

Is it enough

For him to simply know

That his mortal frame

Is one and the same

With the Eagle and the Rainbow

What message comes on soaring wing

What unknown force makes his heart sing

Where in the Universe does his soul go

As he stands there watching

The Eagle and the Rainbow

A pretty girl who sings a tune

Can brighten his whole afternoon

And an Eagle winging overhead

Can make a man forget his dread

The modern world is a scary place

With lots of evil left to face

I only wish that all could know

The power of the Eagle and the Rainbow

My trip to the Northland 

I have been to the place where the Devil Bear roams

And I’ve walked the moss covered eskers, that hide caribou bones

I’ve fed the gorbies, from the palm of my hand

And I’ve stood there at sunrise, and felt the soul of the land

I’ve seen it spread orange, and purple, and blue

Over the wild rippling waters, that each moment made new

I’ve eaten sweet berries, hand picked from the snow

And I’ve buttoned my shirt, when the wind it did blow

I know I was blessed, to visit that place

And when I finally left, it was with tears on my face

Now I am back home, far from the Northland

And I search for the words, to make men understand

How do you touch a mans soul, how do you make him feel

That the soul of the Wild is enduring and real

How do you tell him, make him understand

When he has never set foot, in that wild land

There lies the problem, that’s why we will suffer

Because modern man lives, within an unnatural buffer

His feet are removed, so far from the land

That he never has felt, the Earth’s loving hand

He doesn’t know nature, and he doesn’t know fact

And his very existence is an unnatural act

So I say to you, you should go to the Wild

Go forth and see nature, with the eyes of a child

Only then can you know, only then can you feel

The sacred connection that is ancient and real

If you could once do this, then you would understand

Why it is that I fight, so hard for the land…………….

When I Lay Down To Sleep

I lay down to sleep, but I seldom find rest

For every night while I slumber, I am put to the test

In my dreams I see things, awful and real

And I awake often wishing, that I could make people feel

Make them to realize, help them understand

Just what we are doing, to our children and land

For we are destroying, what we can never replace

And we seem able to to do it, and still keep a straight face

Most people don’t know, that what we’re doing is wrong

For deep in their hearts, they don’t carry the song

The song that our Grandfathers, held in their hearts

The song that made men, search out wild parts

I guess when your feet, are removed from the ground

Somehow your heart, is cut off from the sound

Now when I sleep, it seems that I dream

About the Indian caves, and the wild cat’s scream

About the old farmsteads, on Rocky Dundee

And about Fletcher Mountain, here watching me

I see the destruction, up at Mars Hill

And the spirits on Vinalhaven, that can never be still

I see how Freedom, Danforth, and Dixfield are loosing their way

Feel the pain coming from Roxbury, Carthage, and Woodstock, and those who can’t stay

I see Mattawamkeag, and that sacred place

Where a future President went, to commune with The Grace

And the red lights up on Kibby, as seen from the cut

In the Sandy Stream Valley, are like a kick in the gut

I see all these things, and yet my eyes are shut tight

There is no longer peace, in the Maine Mountain night

And then I see Bowers Mountain, above Grand Lake Stream

And I realize that others, still share in the dream

For they came together, to stand and defend

So that one corner of Maine, could win, in the end

The battle is not over, and we must stay on guard

But those bent on destruction, are finding it hard

Finding it hard, because The People now know

That they have the power, to tell the looters to “GO”

We’ve had a big win, and that is a great thing

But The People in general, still don’t know how to sing

They don’t hear the song, it doesn’t live in their hearts

They have no real respect, for the wilder parts

They don’t understand, they really don’t know

That the ‘Green’ they promote, means death, although slow

And so while we rejoice, that Bowers breaths free

There is still no escape, for those such as me

When I close my eyes, there will be no rest

Those things will still haunt me, and perhaps, that is best

For we must never forget, that if we sleep sound

Those bent on destruction, will keep gaining ground

 

 

About David Corrigan

Registered Maine Master Guide-- Owner, Fletcher Mountain Outfitters-- Operator, Appalachian Trail/Kennebec River Ferry Service
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