Newsletter for the World of Words by Elias Tobias

Cowboy Month

Two themes will be used this month - the coming of spring, and related to that in a tangent, cowboys. To me, spring in Texas always means a new crop of wild flowers, and Texas reminds me of cowboys.  So these two themes will be celebrated this month.  With this move to dual themes, the World of Words by Elias Tobias can officially unveil the new Web blog logo below.

   Poems of the Month

I want to be a Cowboy

I want to be a cowboy.
I want to be an American hero.
I want to be part of the Wild West,
When the country was at it’s best.
When freedom was a saddle and a horse,
And you could travel your own course.
Most of the times were tough and rough,
But you could succeed if you had enough
Of what it took to be a cowboy.

I want to be a cowboy.
I want to be an American hero.
I want to be part of the Wild West,
When the country was at it’s best.
When I could ride my horse all day long,
And sing those lonesome cowboy songs.
The law was code of justice by the gun,
And the hero rode into the setting sun,
But it wasn’t the end of the cowboy.

I want to be a cowboy.
I want to be an American hero.
I want to be part of the WildWest,
When the country was at it’s best.
When changing your life was a right,
If you worked for the goal day and night.
Many people started all over again, and
They had to depend on help from friends
For the cowboys to tame the West.

The Ballad of Joe McKensey

Augustus Seville, respected in these parts,
Owned a house where only women lived.
Depending on how much they were paid
Depended on how much they would give.

Now, old Joe McKensey was a strong man,
And he was proud of what he had done,
Including beating and bruising one of Seville’s
Women, for what he thought was fun.

His words spread like fire to Augustus,
Who didn’t think the attack was right.
While McKensey fumbled for his six gun,
Mr. Augustus Seville shot him on sight.

The day came to Glory Hill when James
 McKensey and kin rode down the street.
Augustus was ready for a battle at the house,
With guns, rifles and ammo at his feet.

The McKensey’s were confident in victory,
For they outnumbered Seville, six to one.
They didn’t know how mean Seville could
Get until once the shooting had begun.

Bullets were flying everywhere around
The house near the new railroad tracks.
Two of the McKensey’s were struck dead
As they tried to enter a window in the back.

A bullet hit Augustus in the shoulder, and
It hurt, and worse, it made him mad as hell.
He put the Winchester rifle through the pane,
And shot a big, tall man by the well.

Suddenly, there was the sound of silence,
And, for the moment, no one knew who won.
Bleeding in several places, Augustus walked
Out onto the porch, and smiled to everyone.
All of the other men laid on the ground, and
Mr. Augustus Seville thought they were dead.
With one last breath left, the man by the well,
James McKensey, shot Seville in the head.

Not too many remember this important gun fight,
Because not that many remember Glory Hill, but
Thousands of people drive over the property where
The fight took place in the town renamed Seville.

The last poem does not reflect an actual series of events, but it could….  

To read this poem in Spanish. click here.

For more cowboy poetry, go to http://www.cowboypoetry.com/

http://www.clantongang.com/oldwest/trade.htm 

http://www.themastersranch.com/http://www.cowboypoet.com/

http://www.cowboypoet.com/ 

http://www.homepages.dsu.edu/jankej/oldwest/poetry.htm 

World of Words celebrates National Poetry Month

The World of Words is celebrating April as National Poetry Month.  The web blog will be conducting two events.

I’m working part-time as an instructor at Ivy Tech in Indianapolis, the the college is having a division-wide poetry contest. I plan to enter, and I will have a contest of my own: a mini-contest with spring as the theme.  My contest is open to anyone who wants to enter, and like the college contest, readers here can submit as many poems as you want in any style, as long as they conform to the rules as set forth in the open poetry forum on the World of Words by Elias Tobias (see page link in categories on right side of page). Deadline  for the contest is April 30. Winners for the top three places and their poems along with a brief biography and optional photo (if submitted) of each winner will be announced in the May Exponet monthly newsletter. Good luck and enter often.  Send submissions to contact(at)eliastobias(dot)net.

Also I am interested in starting  a World of Words Hall of Fame for modern poets who deserved to be recognized for their accomplishments. This would go beyond National Poetry Month, but it is a good time to start it.  Those under consideration can be nominated by sending an e-mail to contact(at)eliastobias(dot)net  Candidates should  be established through publication and/or performance, and should have achieved a national or international presence through their work. Those inducted would be included in a special page for the Hall of Fame with a detailed biography and photograph on the World of Words by Elias Tobias web blog.  A press release will accompany each induction.

Videos getting attention

The several videos made for the World of Words by Eias Tobias are continuing to get exposure on You Tube, with the Mexican Love Song being the most popular with more than 200 views in three months.  This is another way for the Web blog to get the Internet.  For the link, go to the Videos on You Tube page on the right side of the site.  Also see the Next Flight video in the Indianapolis area at www.indytube.tv/elias-tobias.

Free, free, free, free, free

The World of Words by Elias Tobias has several free opportunities for its readers to become part of the web blog.  First, it is very easy to send a comment about any poem on the screen.  Go to the right side of the page and see link to the free poetry first-aid section, the free open poetry forum for those those have poems to submit to others to read, a free poetry poster, links to other poetry Web sites, free tips about how to get published, free poetry writing lessons, and even a short story that makes for good bed-time entertainment.

Free autographed hand-written copy of your favorite poem

Do you have a favorite poem among the 140 or so poems written by Elias Tobias posted on this Web blog? Just send an e-mail to contact(at)eliastobias(dot)net saying that you want a hand-written copy of your favorite poem from Elias Tobias  and you will get that document along with a personal greeting.

But wait. There’s more! Along with each scribed poem, the reader will receive a free autographed photo of Elias Tobias. The poem will be scanned as a PDF document and the photo send electronically through e-mail. This a limited-time offer.

So go through the Web blog, and pick your favorite Elias Poem. The hand-written copy is a free present to those people who respond. Please choose only one poem per request. As you read the poems, and would like to make any comments, send an e-mail to the Webmaster at the end of each post.

On the Home Front

Changes are happening at home.  Last month my father-in-law died due to complications from Alzheimer’s disease, and we are now looking out for Mary, his wife, to make sure she stays okay.  I am moving closer to full-time employment with more part-time opportunties to fill the gap of months of unemployment, and a recent interview may result in a full-time professional job.  Getting electrical problems fixed in one of our cars, the one I drive, is getting expensive, costing more than $600 plus a six day-car rental. My wife, Patty, was gone for work for a week, but  she is now back in Indianapolis. 

Poetry Puzzle stopped

I discontinued the poetry puzzle contest for two reasons.  The idea of making a game to get people to read this poetry site seemed opposite of what made it work, mainly the poems posted on The World of Words by Elias Tobias.

That’s it for this month.  Make this web blog yours by participating in it.

Elias Tobias

Glory of Love

You know that I’m getting old.
My life has been bought and sold
looking for that heart of gold.
Let me go through your door.
Let’s make love on table,
in the bed, and on the floor.
Night after night, you’ll want more.
I’ve never known a person
the way I want you before.
Your love is what I’m living for.
Soon we will be celebrating
what some call the glory of love.

Matter of Trust

She said, “I’m learning to live
without you,” as she had to leave.
It was the last thing she said to me.
I really didn’t want her to go, but
there was a part of me that did
know I’d see her again.

This wasn’t the first time she had
 to work away from home,
And even though she’s not
here, I’m not alone.
The say it’s a matter of trust,
when the two shall become one.
When she gets back,
we’ll have lots of fun.
For now I know tonight when I sleep,
here is a love that will keep me at peace.

Living with a Legacy

This poem is dedicated to Gene Webb, my father-in-law, who passed away Saturday, March 15, 2008, at the age of 86.

Living with a Legacy

From the moment we are born,
    we are marking time,
       step by step in uniforms
            of the day until we can’t
                talk, walk or eat anymore.
Between these extremes, we hope
    to walk in the light,
        and make a difference
            in the lives of others
                than ourselves.
No obituary can detail the legacy
    of creativity and productivity
        of one individual’s impact
            upon the world, especially
                since people seem to have
                    many lives at different times.
Like home movies, the memories
    linger, and mix with the reality
        of the present, living with the legacy.

Here are two more poems that will help lead believers to Jesus. 

Solid  Ground

I know I’m not making the scene,
but I’m living my own dreams.
Changing my ways was a sacrifice,
but I have a whole new life.
I’m on solid ground with Jesus Christ.
I’m living with the God of love.
I know the changes aren’t complete,
but I can stand on my feet.
I know I have expenses to pay,
but my needs are met when I pray.
I’m on solid ground with Jesus Christ.
I’m living with the God of love.

What Miracles

What miracles can grow from an acre of land.
With inventions from the mind, and hard work of the hands,
a garden can be grown to feed a family of five.
What miracles can be built on an acre of land.
Trees will shade a house made of glass, wood and stone.
It is here memories can turn a house into a home.
What miracles can be performed on just an acre of land,
if it’s left wild and alone.
Animals and seasons do their things.
Life will be renewed in the spring.
What miracles can be done for an acre of earth.
My freedoms have been guaranteed by people who
fought and died to protect the land before my birth.
What miracles come from an acre of land.
You just have to look for them. They are precious gifts
from God above and Jesus, who was sent from Heaven.

Home alone

A gypsy woman wandered in to my life,
and she quickly stole my heart.
She wanted me to be a part of her clan,
but I discovered I had other plans.

Being part of her traveling band was
her concept of her perfect man.
Her brothers agreed I was the best
of all the men she ever knew.

Then, of course, her father agreed
with all five of the brothers, too.
I was not supposed to spoil her idea
of having a child, at least two.

I was partial to the style of my old life,
living on the ranch with the horses,
and being a cowboy, looking for strays,
until that gypsy woman came my way.

I was impressed with her on the first day.
She had that special smile, and that look was
all it took to make me feel different inside.
There were feelings I could not hide.

But now I might be considering a ride,
away from that foreign gypsy camp.
I know that lady is by no means a tramp,
but I need to turn out the lamp on our love.

We are different people, with different lives,
and the West is where the strongest survive.
I said I must go, and despite threatening knives,
I made her no promises I had to keep.

She will be part of my good memories:
I’ll think of her loving arms and fine hair,
but I would rather be somewhere
I can always call home, alone.