Virgil Chabre Poetry

Virgil Chabre Poetry Virgil Chabre Poetry Virgil Chabre Poetry
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Virgil Chabre Poetry

Virgil Chabre Poetry Virgil Chabre Poetry Virgil Chabre Poetry
  • Home
  • Biography
  • Announcements
  • Writings
  • Native American Poems
  • My Eyes Have Failed Me
  • Snap Shots
  • Desperate Characters
  • Favorite Poems
  • Poemography

Virgil Chabre

Virgil ChabreVirgil ChabreVirgil Chabre

This is the poetry site of poet Virgil Chabre

Things to think about

Welcome

Welcome

Welcome

 

Welcome to the Website of poet Virgil Chabre.  Author of six books of poetry: Silhouettes, Images, and Faded Memories; The Night She Left and Other Poems; Column One (Poems 1982-1992); Washington D. C.;

Mending Fences; Mining Camp Blues & Other Poems 



Contact:  virgilchabre13@gmail.com


Anyone interested in discussing poetry or sharing their

 

Welcome to the Website of poet Virgil Chabre.  Author of six books of poetry: Silhouettes, Images, and Faded Memories; The Night She Left and Other Poems; Column One (Poems 1982-1992); Washington D. C.;

Mending Fences; Mining Camp Blues & Other Poems 



Contact:  virgilchabre13@gmail.com


Anyone interested in discussing poetry or sharing their poetry, please contact me.  All comments and responses are welcome and appreciated.


Quotations:

  

"Some people never go crazy. What truly horrible lives they must lead."


"The free soul is rare, but you know it when you see it – basically because you feel good, very good, when you are near or with them."


"We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us."

-Charles Bukowski

Welcome

Welcome

Welcome

 

Welcome to the Website of poet Virgil Chabre.  Author of six books of poetry: Silhouettes, Images, and Faded Memories; The Night She Left and Other Poems; Column One (Poems 1982-1992); Washington D. C.;

Mending Fences; Mining Camp Blues & Other Poems 



Contact:  virgilchabre13@gmail.com


Anyone interested in discussing poetry or sharing their

 

Welcome to the Website of poet Virgil Chabre.  Author of six books of poetry: Silhouettes, Images, and Faded Memories; The Night She Left and Other Poems; Column One (Poems 1982-1992); Washington D. C.;

Mending Fences; Mining Camp Blues & Other Poems 



Contact:  virgilchabre13@gmail.com


Anyone interested in discussing poetry or sharing their poetry, please contact me.  All comments and responses are welcome and appreciated.


Quotations:

  

"Some people never go crazy. What truly horrible lives they must lead."


"The free soul is rare, but you know it when you see it – basically because you feel good, very good, when you are near or with them."


"We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us."

-Charles Bukowski

Virgil Chabre with Joy Harjo Poet Laureate of The Library of Congress

Virgil Chabre with Joy Harjo Poet Laureate of The Library of Congress



Fred Wright is Gone


I was a college student

Working at the Ford garage

Detailing new cars

Actually

A car washer

Making new cars shine


When I returned to school

I was replaced by Fred Wright

An African American with a smile

As big as the state of Louisiana


He would always say

“When I die I will become a cloud

And after the rain I will 

Disappear and wat



Fred Wright is Gone


I was a college student

Working at the Ford garage

Detailing new cars

Actually

A car washer

Making new cars shine


When I returned to school

I was replaced by Fred Wright

An African American with a smile

As big as the state of Louisiana


He would always say

“When I die I will become a cloud

And after the rain I will 

Disappear and watch the 

Flowers grow”


I would say, “Flowers hell, Fred

Nothing will grow around here except 

Weeds.” He would smile

And say “Weed can be a good thing!”


Fred would never pass up

A good thing in wine, women and song

Went to New Orleans with his guitar

Not to make it rich

But play his guitar to share his passion


He could walk on any stage

And play with the best of them

Could not read notes

But the guitar became part of him

An extension of his soul


I never would believe

Our paths would cross again

I was working construction in Wyoming

A Paymaster hiring workers

Managing payroll

We needed an oiler for the cranes


Fred Wright walked through the door

His smile still as big

As the state he left behind

He had more stories to tell me

Than a Mark Twain short story book

I could listen for hours


There was never a dull moment 

With Fred

He still played the guitar

Always a song in his heart

His passion was still

Wine, women and song 


One day I heard the news

Fred Wright is gone

My heart skipped a beat

I thought of how much he gave me


But saw a cloud in the sky

A light rain was falling

Tomorrow there may be flowers

A few weeds

Life will go on without Fred


For he is in the clouds

Floating by

Smiling as big as the state

Of Louisiana

Rain can be a good thing

Fred Wright is gone 


Virgil Chabre with Joy Harjo Poet Laureate of The Library of Congress

Virgil Chabre with Joy Harjo Poet Laureate of The Library of Congress

Virgil Chabre with Joy Harjo Poet Laureate of The Library of Congress


  

Standing Still Man


For: Joy Harjo


I see and feel

The warmth of the sun

The moon and stars

Fade as the sunrise

Moves into existence


Darkness now in the past

The earth stands still

Afraid to move

On its axis


I feel pain in my heart

History repeats itself

The earth moves

Beneath my feet


I cannot walk anymore

Too many clouds 

Fill my skies

I stop and hesitat


  

Standing Still Man


For: Joy Harjo


I see and feel

The warmth of the sun

The moon and stars

Fade as the sunrise

Moves into existence


Darkness now in the past

The earth stands still

Afraid to move

On its axis


I feel pain in my heart

History repeats itself

The earth moves

Beneath my feet


I cannot walk anymore

Too many clouds 

Fill my skies

I stop and hesitate


Unable to take that step

Into the future

Haunted by the past


Broken promises

Broken dreams

Broken treaties


Broken bodies left behind

In a world

Out of control


I am Standing Still Man


  

The Blame Game


To Whom It May Concern


She was young

With a maturity

Of an adult

She was special

A shining star

Someone that could

Be trusted

But her family

Became an obstacle

To hold her back

She panicked and

Played the blame game

It was not like her

But she was out of answers

So her family became strangers

Her friends became enemies

It was her quick decision

To solve her problems

But it was a road

She should not have taken

It would haunt her

Later in life

Once on that road

It is hard to come back

For the road took her

Deeper and deeper

Into places to nowhere

Years passed

Time did not stand still

Life changes

Her good friend

Who always stood

Up for her

Gave sound advice

Without ever turning

On her

Was blindsided

By the blame game

She learned to play so well

She hit him hard

With her thoughts from years ago

But memories fade in time

Friendship is lost

In a world where facts

Become fiction

You cannot win

With someone playing

The blame game

It is a losing battle

Losing friendship forever

Suddenly some day

She will realize

It was a game

And she lost pushing the blame

To the one who 

Was always there for her

Now gone

forever



    

The Blame Game


To Whom It May Concern


She was young

With a maturity

Of an adult

She was special

A shining star

Someone that could

Be trusted

But her family

Became an obstacle

To hold her back

She panicked and

Played the blame game

It was not like her

But she was out of answers

So her family became strangers

Her friends became enemies

It was her quick decision

To solve her problems

But it was a road

She should not have taken

It would haunt her

Later in life

Once on that road

It is hard to come back

For the road took her

Deeper and deeper

Into places to nowhere

Years passed

Time did not stand still

Life changes

Her good friend

Who always stood

Up for her

Gave sound advice

Without ever turning

On her

Was blindsided

By the blame game

She learned to play so well

She hit him hard

With her thoughts from years ago

But memories fade in time

Friendship is lost

In a world where facts

Become fiction

You cannot win

With someone playing

The blame game

It is a losing battle

Losing friendship forever

Suddenly some day

She will realize

It was a game

And she lost pushing the blame

To the one who 

Was always there for her

Now gone

forever


VIRGIL CHABRE

Poetry

Vietnam (Friendly Fire)

She was all I had left from the war

Waited patiently for me to return

I saw her every time I closed my eyes

She was always there

But my eyes are afraid to close 

Anymore


There was a fire burning in the night

It was another dream

The dreams overtake me

Giant centipedes crawl in the darkness

Waiting for their next sting

I cannot separate reality from dreams

The war consumed me

Agent Orange crawling on my body

Never-ending rain

Snub nosed monkey swats a mosquito

The feast is over


I stood alone in the darkness

Looking at the body on the ground

Lifeless 

Friendly fire they would say

But there was nothing friendly about it

He dropped a grenade

Afraid to let it leave his hand

Self-destruction or collateral damage

The jungle on fire around us

I clutch my dog tags to my chest

Look at my toes to try to keep the dog tags away

I close my eyes and see the tunnels

I pull a body out


The sun shines today

The jungle is empty

Silence fills the air

A water buffalo stops by

Looking for food or water

He is alone

I hold her tonight but keep my eyes open

Afraid of my dreams

The smell of burning flesh and napalm fills the air

My eyes must stay open

I must face reality

Prepare for the day tomorrow 


Some say tomorrow will be a new day

But nothing is new after war

Just the sound of ammo in the night

And friendly fire

I remember when I arrived passing him

He was leaving Vietnam

On his way home

The words that came out of his mouth

Stayed with me

“The enemy is in the distance,

You will find them,

Watch your friends

They cannot be trusted

This is war”


Electricity

How could I describe

You to someone

I could say you

Look like Julia Roberts

But you do not

Or you are sexy like Sharron Stone

But that falls short also


You are like electricity

A current running

Through veins

You can take darkness

Make it light

You can change light

Into darkness


You can take the cold

Give it warmth

Or on the warmest days

You can send chills

Down the spine


You have the ability

To recharge people 

At their lowest times

Full force energy

From your soul


You can give a shock

Leaving those you 

Meet trembling

Wondering what hit them

As they recover from your touch


You are electricity


    

The Closer at Saying Good-bye


I met her in Las Vegas

She was from

The West Indies

Her skin

Was like a shadow

Following her

Tan and smooth

Silk

She was 

A dream I had

On a sleepless

Night

When my eyes

Blinked for

Far too long

Leaving me

In her arms

Magic

Of her charm

Was more than

I could comprehend

The closer we

Became

The closer we

Were at 

Saying 

Good-bye




Stranger

She was a stranger I saw
Out of the corner of my eye
She did not look like Lady Gaga
Or Marilyn Monroe
She was younger
With dark hair
And glasses


A photograph I could file away
In my mind

I did not realize
I must have been staring at her
As I tried to focus my eyes
On the curve of her lips
As she sat silently
Sipping upon a cola


But when I got up and left
And looked back
She blew me a kiss
A stranger I will never forget
Filed away forever
In my mind under
A kiss that slipped away from me


The Smell of Coal


I remember the kitchen

The smell of burning coal

It was the only 

     warmth we had


It was a mining camp

Company school

     Company store

          Company blues


I remember the kitchen

The smell of coal dust in the air

     Coughing 

          and choking

Trying to breathe


But the company 

     owned the air

Each breath made 

     a mark on the lungs

Of a miner trying to survive


I remember a hospital room

A coal miner fighting 

     for his last breath

A breathing machine silent

The lungs could take no more

Black lung heartache 

     took my father


I remember the smell of death 

     in the room

The smell of coal



  




The Oak Tree


I walked by the oak tree today

Thought about

All the conversations we had

Sitting under it

How it shaded us from the sun

And the world


It was our place 

Where words flowed like wine

And the silent times

Were real

When words were not necessary

Just you and me

Under the oak tree


Today I missed you

As I sat beneath the oak tree

The silence took me back

And somewhere in my mind

I smiled

Thinking about you and me

Under the oak tree 

She Needed

  

She needed an ocean

I gave her a river

That flowed passed her

Leaving her dry and alone


She needed a mountain

I gave her a hillside

With a tree

And an empty swing

Swaying in the wind


She needed tomorrow

But all I had was today

And the ticking of a clock

That said time was passing by


She needed the sunshine

But I lived in the shadows

Darkness was my friend

As I heard the closing of a door

Wyoming Miners

  When someone asks us
 Where we are from
 We smile and say
 We're from under Wyoming
 The land of our fathers
 And their fathers too
 It's in our blood
 The earth within us
 We're not happy in the sunshine
 We spend our days
 And nights in tunnels
 Where darkness is our friend
 The gophers and prairie dogs
 Live above us
 In tunnels of their own
 Sometimes they don't understand
 The sounds down below
 In the winter when they sleep
 They dream of metal monsters
 Digging in the earth below
 When spring comes
 Sometimes they are awakened early
 By the sound of fireworks
 Before the fourth of July
 We work the earth
 Like a farmer works the surface
 Following the steps
 Our fathers took
 They walk in our shadows
 Protecting us from the sun 

More poems

Coal Miner's Son

Coal Miner's Son

Coal Miner's Son

I was born

A coal miner’s son

Watching my father

Come home

Covered in black dust


When he was

Not breathing coal dust

He smoked cigarettes


I heard him wheezing

And coughing in the night

Unable to catch his breath


Black Lung they called it

The disease of coal miners


The black earth

Took away their ability

To breathe


As I witnessed him

Fighting to take

His last breath

I Cannot Answer

Coal Miner's Son

Coal Miner's Son

I cannot answer 

All of your questions

Or place meaning 

In the emptiness

That surrounds you

I can only give you

Some time

To think about today

And not worry about yesterday

Or have any fears

About tomorrow

Today is the memory

We will build upon

Without barriers

To provide a ray of light

That can be remembered

At the darkest time

We may face alone

Einstein Said

Coal Miner's Son

Missing Things

Einstein said

That the amount of stress

In a situation is equal to

The amount of effort

And energy

Exerted in the situation

Divided by the

Amount of satisfaction

Gained or lost

By the results

Of the situation

Fuck

Einstein never said that

I did

I felt smart for a minute

I guess every minute counts

Missing Things

Homeless People

Missing Things

  

The desert heat doesn’t bother me

Not the empty space across the horizon

Or the scorpion moving across the sand


What bothers me

Are the dreams I haven’t had

The hands I forgot to touch

The mystery in the eyes

I never solved

Or walking away

When I should have stayed a moment longer

So many things lost in life

Like the silence following a poem

I never read

Long Distance

Homeless People

Homeless People

  

We talk from long distance spaces

Where an echo can be heard between us

It works out so much better that way

If we get too close

We become lost in thoughts and phrases

As the words we speak

Get in the way of our relationship

So I’ll continue to say hello

From where I stand

And all you have to do is wave

And I’ll know

It does not mean

Good-bye

Homeless People

Homeless People

Homeless People

  

She said there

Are homeless people

But security

To calm your fears

But I do not fear


The homeless

I fear the men in suits

Working on Capital hill

Causing pain

Far deeper than a homeless person

Searching for shelter

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