Spirit Horse Song

Lyrics by Jeff “Reddog” Kirkendall & Dennis “Doc” McCracken

Photo by Dennis Gilbert

Photo by Dennis Gilbert

Vocals by Doc McCracken
Guitar by Bubba Hudson
Recorded by Behind-the-Tack-Shed-Studios, Nashville, TN 2/2/96

Dear Readers & Listeners,
I wrote the foundation of this song when I had been through enough hard times in life to appreciate the fact that facing the truth is not only the-right-thing-to-do, it can also be the most mysterious and exciting.

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The song shares the notion that facing the truth and doing the right thing have an intuitive rhythm. When practiced and done well, you don’t have to think. You sense the mood, act, and experience the quiet joy of the truth setting you free.
This song came in a dream. Bubba captures this quality with his truly fine guitar work. The magic of Doc’s vocals brings the message home.

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To listen, click the black bar “Download File” below.  Then click the download.

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Replies and sharing are greatly appreciated.
Many blessings to you and your relatives,
Jeffery Kirkendall

FIRST VERSE
Come with me; let’s take a ride
On an Arapaho pony called Dreamer
Wrap tight your legs; let loose the reins
Open up your eyes to your Redeemer
Yes, listen to the call of your Redeemer
VERSE TWO
Come with me, on a starlit night
Ride to the edge of all you know
Sacred canyons, whispering winds
Mysteries you’ve yet to know
There are powers you have yet to know
VERSE THREE
Come with me, and I will show you
The light your spirit longs to show
You’ll cry out with passion, and you’ll weep with joy
To find out who you are, you must surrender
Yes, to know who you are . . . surrender
VERSE FOUR
Come with me; take a leap of faith
On this war pony called Dreamer
If you ride with me, I’ll set you free
I’m what your soul’s been yearning for
Yes, I am Truth, your Redeemer
On a pony called Dreamer
The truth is your Redeemer
The truth of Dreamer

 

Why Donald is Running for Real

This is personal.  Donald’s 2012 candidacy was promotional and fun. His 2016 candidacy is deeply serious, and he will stay in the presidential race until they pry his cold stiff fingers from the microphone.

photo by theurbandaily.com

photo by theurbandaily.com

Donald’s commitment this time around is fueled by humiliation. Indeed, he is a man who personifies, and who inspires a constituency of, “those who get mad and get even.”

His shaming happened at the 2011 White House Correspondents Dinner, nine minutes and thirty seconds into the comedic speech of President Barack Obama.

Donald Trump is here tonight. (audience applause)

Now I know that he’s taken some flack lately, but no one’s happier, no one is prouder to put this birth certificate matter to rest than the Donald and that’s because he can finally get back to focusing on the issues that matter like did we fake the moon landing?  (audience laughter)  What really happened in Roswell?   And where are Biggie and Tupac?

(laughter and applause, camera focused on a staring Trump)

All kidding aside, obviously we all know about your credentials and breadth of experience. For example. No. Seriously, just recently in an episode of Celebrity Apprentice at the steak house, the men’s cooking team did not impress the judges from Omaha Steaks. And there was a lot of blame to go around. But you, Mr. Trump, recognized that the real problem was a lack of leadership.

(camera holding on the staringTrump)

And so ultimately you didn’t blame Little John or Meat Loaf.

(audience laughter)

You fired Gary Busey. And these are the kind of decisions that would keep me up at night

(audience laughter, applause, vocalizing hoots, cheering, harder applause, whistles, tight thin-lips on Trump, woman at his table laughing and looking at him, the Donald’s boyish little wave)

Well handled sir! Well handled.

Say what you will about Mr. Trump, he certainly would bring some change to the White House. See what we’ve got up there.

photo by reddit.com

photo by reddit.com

On the big screen was a picture of the glitzy name TRUMP dominating the White House. Underneath read Hotel * Casino * Golf Course, and under that read Presidential Suite. In the foreground of the White House lawn in a pool with a fountain were two women with drinks.

(more audience laughter)

And the President’s coup de grace?

It came a little more than forty-eight hours later when Donald learned, as did the nation, that the President had ordered and succeeded in the assassination of Osama Bin Laden.

Donald may not be able to conceptualize self-deprecating humor, but he can conceptualize other-deprecating humor.  He experienced something during that two-and-a-half minutes sitting beneath the President, something akin to a public spanking.

photo by whwweb.com

photo by whwweb.com.

Donald will not rest.

This is personal.

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See Donald’s humiliation, click here

Darling Dust Devil Dances Discreetly!

I saw it all from my old front porch folks! A hot summer day like this one.

photo by panaramio.com

photo by panaramio.com

As the neighboring family stood chatting with friends on the far front side of their house and garage, a dust devil, a tiny tornado, appeared in their backyard. Born of mother nature’s playfulness, this fantastic funnel materialized in frantic fashion between the dog kennel and house. It rose to a toddling twenty-feet of height and paused. Wobbling, shaking, bobbing and weaving, it hypnotically glided sideways. The rascal paused again, gyrating, swinging its hips in sensual hula motions. It then slyly slipped between two buildings.

Then dear readers, perhaps aware of human movement, it began to return from whence it came! This whirling dervish of dust and sand picked up a piece of bright-yellow paper and waved wild circles in the air, as in an ancient ceremony of spiritual ecstasy.

As the unaware residents turned from their guests and began to walk towards the secret stage of natural frolic and childlike abandon, the wily wind-dancer darted back to its place of first appearance. With a sigh, it softly collapsed to the earth, leaving behind only a motionless tattered paper from its magical performance.

Oh that mother nature. She’s still got it!

Voice in the Wilderness

I have prayed with people from wildly diverse faiths, races, and socio-economic groups. I April 2014 023have prayed with people in the midst of some of the most cruel circumstances a family might experience in life. Someone was sexually tortured or terrorized.

Prayer helped. It helped them and helped me.

I have counseled sexually terrorized people for thirty-four years. I have studied the subject, written about it, spoken about it, and even sung songs about it. I continue to create a body of work that will help those who suffer for such sins of others after I have passed on. I continue to pray my way through the challenges.

To stay sane, I walk somewhere in nature every week. It is truly good medicine for me.

The longer I walk, the more distant becomes civilization. As I walk through miles of rolling grassland wilderness, I become more humanly isolated. I can see things coming for a thousand yards in every direction. There is no one to surprise me. I am free and safe. There is only the wind in the grass and nearby meadowlarks calling for my attention.

As I walk, my prayers and movement become a ceremonial ritual. I call it The Spirit Trail. I express my gratitudes, my fears, my pains, and my passions. I ask for guidance in knowing how I might use my unusual knowledge and experiences to do the greatest good for the greatest number.

And so it was recently.

After some time of intense walking-communication, a quiet pleasure came over me. It was accompanied by a growing faith that I would know what to do when it was time to do it.

I came back to grounding when I realized I had a sticker inside my boot. With a smile of peaceful satisfaction, I sat down on the earth to loosen my boot. As I did, I admired the mountains forty miles to the north. As I tied off my boot, I gazed at the snow-capped sacred peaks a hundred miles to the north-east. I then stood and turned my head to the distant mountains in the east. More magnificence.

After a significant pause, I turned around to see the mountains to the south.

I was not alone!

image by pinterest.com

image by pinterest.com

A herd of pronghorn antelope,

ears up, alert and listening,

all looked at me,

me looking at them

for the longest time in the universe.

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I just love it when that happens!

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A Spiritual Goose

I stepped out on the front porch this morning and heard a wonderful sound. A flock of Flying GooseCanada geese, flying in formation, called out as they passed over my humble Northern-Arizona long-house. I smiled of course. I am always touched and uplifted by wildlife. Somehow they give me hope that the beauty of mother nature will endure beyond mankind’s greed and violence.

I was reminded of an experience five, six years ago about this time of year when I was worried about finances and any number of things. I was driving my vintage Chevy short-bed pickup out the dirt road from Apache Wells to the highway on my way to work. Another Canada flock, maybe some of the recent flock’s relatives, were flying unusually low in the same direction I was driving.

As I took a bend in the washed out rocky road, our paths became much closer and parallel. For that relatively smooth stretch of road we kept pace with each other. I had my window down and leaned my head out to feel wind in my face like a blissful hound dog.  To me, it seemed their honking was just for my benefit. I looked the leader in the eye, and I am sure they were urging me to fly on faithfully into the future.

I also remember a goose encounter in the middle of one of my high school football games. We were under the lights on a near-freezing Friday night and getting ready on defense for our opponent’s next play. That was when my dear friend and team captain for that game, Jim The Hangman, called for the team’s attention. As ten of us all turned in unison and looked, we saw Hangman’s arm in the air and his finger pointed to the sky. The moment freeze-framed for me. The steam from our hard breathing poured through our face masks as we all looked to the night sky on cue. Perhaps the crowd thought we were praying.

The honking was distinct, and our entire team smiled as we recognized what it was. Then us tough guys all laughed at realizing what we were simultaneously sharing in the middle of that game. For that precious moment, we were all country boys tickled by mother nature and our own teenage comaraderie.

Good goose memories.

So today, in spite of all national economic indicators, in spite of all the horrendous world-wide challenges, I have just a bit more optimism and wonder for the days ahead, and I would like to pass some of that along to others.

Let us marvel in a wildlife moment together.Canada goose close up

Here is a little spiritual goose for you.

Honk, honk, honk, honk, . . honk!.
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Respectfully,

Jeffery Kirkendall

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Click here to view some more magical wildlife moments.

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Co-Authoring Adventures

Hello. My name is Jeff. I am a recovering writer. I can’t help myself. I just have to write

(click to enlarge)

(click to enlarge)

things that I want to remember. Mostly I want to remember the stories. I want to remember what I learned, the people I met, the unusual experiences, and how it all unfolded.

I am regularly amazed and grateful for my life adventures.   I am rich with memories.

Talking about my late wife Carol at the Peregrine Book Company was fantastic. It was like bearing witness, or describing a rare and beautiful phenomenon in nature, or giving a toast to her in front of my peers.

Let me back up.

I belong to the Professional Writers of Prescott. It is an organization and a monthly meeting of local authors, writers, poets, readers, all getting together to share our crafts, learn from each other, and hopefully inspiring one another to keep writing and sending out our messages in a bottle.

Five of us were at the Peregrine Book Company in Prescott Arizona to tell about our Co-authoring Adventures.

Carole Bolinski, who brought us co-authors together, told the audience of her experiences sharing with her brother. Their book of poetry is titled Pearls Beneath The Rind. Bill Lynam told of him and his brother bicycling and mopedding across Europe a decade after World War II. They also “footloosed” their way through South America and back across the United States. His book is Footloose Pilgrims. Connie Johnson engagingly told the story of her and her sister’s collaboration on their book Farm Kids, A 1950’s Wisconsin Memior

Herbert Windolf recalled his precious long-distance relationship with a German woman, whose poetry he translated into English. Herb, an accomplished poet himself, dazzled us all by reading a poem in German and then the same poem in English. His book is The Year Mirrored in Poems.

It was marvelous experience collaborating with these writers, these kindred spirits, holy scribes, keepers of ancient traditions. I had a nice laugh with the audience when I finished my presentation by explaining that I was going to convince my colleagues Carole, Connie, Herb, and Bill to join forces, rent a van, and go on a national book tour of our own.

I know it doesn’t sound that funny the way I describe it now, but it really was cute and everyone in the audience laughed.  As a storyteller and teacher and entertainer long ago, it felt great to be back.

I spoke of my experiences co-authoring the book  Without Consent: How to Overcome Childhood Sexual Abuse with my late wife Carol Jarvis-Kirkendall.  I explained how our writing together was a big part of my decision to marry her. We were great together saving families. easing suffering, and sometimes helping send bad guys to prison. She had my back, and I had hers, and sometimes when people are really good together, one plus one can equal three. Our work has been a healing influence in thousands of lives.

I read my popular story Marriage Decision Vision. (Click here).  I explained that I made a promise to Carol early in our relationship that when she left this world, I would be holding her in my arms. She would know that she was safe and loved and had lived a good life. I told my listeners that I kept my word and that was just how Carol passed.

I thanked everyone there for coming. I thanked Susan Lang for the pleasure of speaking at the Peregrine Book Company. I explained that if anyone in the audience would like to know more about the child on the cover of Without Consent, they needed to read my Indians & Aliens – and unexpected short stories.

I further explained that if they bought both my books that day, I would ride home with them, do a dramatic reading, and stay for dinner.

They laughed. I laughed.

(click to enlarge)

(click to enlarge)

Met a lot of nice people.

So thank you writers,

and thank you readers.

It was a great day.

 

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Co-authoring Adventures

ANNOUNCINGAuthor photos and more 016

2 pm / Saturday,

January 31st, 2015

Jeffery Kirkendall will speak

at the Peregrine Book Company

In Prescott, Arizona

 

Five writers present their adventures collaborating with a spouse, friend or sibling.  Hear the struggles, conflicts and laughter that each writer experience on the journey to complete a book.  One has to do with developing a transatlantic friendship.  Another is a coming of age experience.

The other authors share about soul-mates finding one another and sibling harmony.  These story tellers reveal how in co-authorship their stories and poetry exceeded what one could have accomplished alone

TO LEARN MORE CLICK HERE.