Biography

Virgil Chabre was born in Rock Springs, Wyoming. The son of a coal miner. The Rock Springs area is a mining community and Virgil spent his first years in a mining camp, Dines, which was located approximately ten miles north of Rock Springs. Dines was a mining camp where the mining company owned the houses, school, company store and all other aspects of life. The mining company had complete control over the miners. There was no running water in the houses and the bathroom was an outhouse out in the back of the house. He later moved to Rock Springs on Ridge Avenue and had the luxury of running water and plumbing facilities. He survived eight years of a Catholic School and Graduated from Rock Springs High School. He graduated from the University of Wyoming. He spent some of his time 1600 feet underground in a trona mine while in Wyoming. He moved to Arizona and continued his education and became a teacher. He taught Social Studies and Creative Writing in junior high and high school as well as coaching several sports. He established a successful Poetry Club at the school. He begin writing poetry in high school and continues his writing in Arizona today.

Mitchell Peak, Wyoming

Mitchell Peak was named after Finis Mitchell a mentor of Virgil Chabre.  It is one of the few mountains to be named after an individual while that individual was still alive. Most mountains are named posthumously.  Finis was a renowned author , environmentalist, and mountain climber.  Finis would never place himself above the earth that he walked upon.  The earth was very important to Finis and he believed it should be treated with respect and dignity.  He dedicated much of his time to insure the mountains of Wyoming would be shared by all mankind.

 Virgil Chabre

PUBLICATIONS
 

His poems have been published in Deros, Manna, Poetica Magazine, Prophetic Voices, Publishing 9, San Fernando Poetry Journal, The Archer, The Professional Poet, The Pub, The Power, Shadows of the Mind, Second Thoughts, Reach for the Stars, Poems for All Seasons, The American Muse, Taurus, New Poets of the American West and many other poetry journals and books.

Books

Column One (Poems 1982-1992)
 

Silhouettes, Images, and Faded Memories -(1979 Out of Print)

The Night She Left and Other Poems - (1981 Out of Print)

Washington DC-(2010)

Mending Fences (2019)

Mining Camp Blues & Other Poems (2022)

Cold Weather
 

Cold weather moves in
And hesitates
Around us
Snowshoe rabbits scurry about
Looking somewhat bewildered
Antelope moving slow
Unable to glide through
The deep snow
Cars communicating
Through jumper cables
Giving life
Below zero

 Arizona Desert
 

He came in from the desert

Working in the hot sun

Has its hazards

He had two rattlesnake bites

In three days

Walking with a limp

He said more people die from bee stings

Than rattlesnake bites in Arizona

Tomorrow he would be

Back in the desert

Absorbing the hot sun

Hoping that there are no bees

In the air

One Arm Coming Down
 

For: Aron Ralston
 

Rock climbing is never easy
It takes strength
And determination
The ability to use all limbs
Feet
     Hands
          Arms
               Legs
Your destiny is in
The determination you have to survive
 

Aron Ralston had that determination
As he returned from his climb
Leaving part of himself behind
Lodged inside a rock
 

One  arm coming down 

It was a house on Park Avenue

A place that had its own issues

There were many stories that 

Took place inside the house

Some will be retold

And some are better

Left in the past

I met Rick there

Student teaching in a quiet

Wyoming town

A house full of teachers

Owned by a teacher

Rick was an artist

One of a kind

Yet

There was something untold

About this house

That would haunt us at the time

And continue to haunt us

As we think about the house today

Rick operating a comic book place

Me writing poetry

Joined with the mysterious house

We left behind

I was born into

The mining camps of Wyoming

Dines, Winton, and others

Dotted specs on the countryside

Sagebrush and tumbleweeds

Were are neighbors

No running water

Tracks in the snow

Led the way to the outhouse out back

Company school

Company houses

Company store

Dusty roads

Coal burning to keep the house warm

Ice box waiting

For a delivery of ice

Milk delivered on our doorstep

Cardboard inside

Hand me down shoes

Kept my feet 

Out of the weather

It was the mining camp blues

It was just a drive

Looking at Wyoming

Through a window

Of the past

Ridge Avenue

The place where it began

Ridge Avenue

The place where it ended

The cemetery of lost souls

behind our house

Bones in the ground

Trying to rise up

To face a day from the past

The potholes in the road

Slowing down any 

Fast movement

Empty buildings

Vacant lots

Dust covering roads

The wind

And clouds in the sky

Approaching the first

Day of summer

She said call me again

and check the sandman

in your dreams

it's not who you think

it is

I looked and found 

deep sleep leaving

me exhausted

waking up to the magic

of the sandman

Stillness in the summer sun

soft hooves that sparkle

with the absence of movement

Once able to dance across the prairie

Swiftness without measure

Ability to dodge bullets

but not cars

Is it necessary

to put patterns

before us

me as man-boy

you as woman-girl

or can we

forget what we have become

and explore

only what is real

in a world

that is lost

and out of control

around us

He was our landlord

We were just college students

Looking for an apartment

Near the university

Walking distance from

The Classroom Building

Old Main

Laramie, Wyoming

He worked at a lumber yard

Stacking 2x4’s 

Sacks of concrete

He knew how to treat

His tenants

Was never a slumlord

He would fix a leaking toilet

Frozen pipes

Or a window damaged by

A flying frog

Drinking alcohol never bother him

Or neighbors that

Complained about us

He was always welcome

Stopping by whenever

His time allowed

To share a story

Listen to jimi Hendrix

Or just consume a beer

He was our landlord

Teaching us more about life

That we would ever learn

In a University classroom

For: Rebecca

She is a river

Flowing magical downstream

     Water

The element of life

Flows through her veins

The source of her power

Harsh weather

     Winter storms 

Increases her flow

     In the spring

She can be calm and serene 

Measuring her life 

By the passing of storms

     Melting snow

Forming a steady stream

She can be stormy and unrestful

Protecting herself

    And those near to her 

         From outside forces

Bending to the power of the rain

She is a river

     Unpredictable

Full of never-ending life

     Fearless

Carving new paths

     Untold roads

Where boundaries fall

To the power that is born

    Deep inside her soul

Flowers bloom in the earth

     That surrounds her

Magic colors

    Of sunflowers, daffodils,

        Indian Paintbrush,

Beauty radiates from her

     Forming an aura

         Of light to guide her

As she continues 

     Her journey downstream

She is a river

For: Tami

I met her a day in spring

She drove a blue Dodge truck

It fit her personality perfect

I noticed then

A real alpha girl

Strong and determined

Something special about her

It was not her looks

Although she was stunning

It was the aura that surrounded her

Like a shadow in the moon light

She was beyond a dream

She was tall and lean

Muscular and tan

Strong from spending days on rooftops

Away from the solid earth

Her past was not considered

Only the present 

Where she was this moment

She was living in moments

Not thinking about the future

It was a short distance

In front of her

Where her life would change

For two years

Taking her away

From where she longed to be

But she has the strength

The fortitude and desire

To carry on

That will take her

To solve past obstacles

And move on to the future

Where she will return

To find herself