Boysna the Austrian Dancing Bear: Volume 1

Boysna the Austrian Dancing Bear: Volume 1

by Jo-Anne McGee


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The perspective of the non Christian in a subculture society during 1971 experimenting with alternative life styles, music, and hallucinating drugs were prevalent, it was Libby's desire to write from their emotional perspective and capture this time in history whereby the cold war with Russia created a dooms day cataclysmic effect on the minds of a subculture generation who grew up to turn on and drop out a generation waiting for the next shoe to fall as Nikita Khrushchev had pounded the podium with his shoe at the UN in 1958 and then the Bay of Pigs where they awaited John F. Kennedy's decision as to whether we would go to nuclear war in 1961 with Cuba whose allies were with Russia. At that time this subculture generation lived by their own rules some grew to adulthood without changing, some did change. There was no nuclear bomb to this day and time which fell on humankind but a great deal of testing of nuclear bombs in the waters of the earth was done.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781449021030
Publisher: AuthorHouse
Publication date: 07/26/2012
Pages: 176
Product dimensions: 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.41(d)

Read an Excerpt

Boysna The Austrian Dancing Bear

Volume 1
By Jo-Anne McGee


Copyright © 2012 Jo-Anne McGee
All right reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-4490-2103-0

Chapter One

    The buffalo
    are killed
    The child dies
    in the act of saving
    the weak buffalo
    and this dead boy's friends
    witness against
    the buffalo killers.
    Where do you stand in the light of eternity?
    when the buffalo are counted?

Two Indian Names

Remember ...

O Lord why this too? How long before I will be face-to-face with those ones the different ones? To-tole her freckled face. Crazywolf with the mysterious darkness that is so elusive and yet explodes; how I pity them, how I love those different ones. But yet I am kept from speaking with them they are far away are they from me. To-tole and Crazy wolf are my enemies but I love them in moments we saw each other our thoughts of each other no one can tear them away. Crazywolf and To-tole are so sick, their sickness is tearing away at their souls and yet; in the tradition they go on even in pain ~ Now there are only sighs and tear drops and words to speak to them to tell them of my love and tenderness for To-tole and Crazywolf and all the To-tole's and Crazywolf's who in their earth mansions cry and wail for great is their misery that no silver clouded car can take away. Now for some, the dark walls of prison; they breathe the dank dark lonely nights where your pillow is your loved one, but where is his tender touch, where are her soft words and tender caressing hands? But now I have the Lord at my side so my darkness was turned to a bright shining star in the midnight sky. Oh, my friend To-tole how is your misery dancing my friend Crazy wolf, how long will you be a fugitive running with your .45 on your shoulder, every moment that you have, you thought not. What happened so sweetly sorrowful one, where was the step that you took that led to destruction watching you writher in pain and looking so happy that death is near and forever, To-tole, To-tole, do you remember.

Yes I remember, so well I remember Oh Lord, please talk to them for me. You are my friend go to them, show them the way for you are the way and truth and the life.

It can't be too late for them, To-tole and Crazywolf. Can you hear me? I am speaking though I am not there to say the words. Dare I think with my tears; dare I think that you will not listen to my Friend? No, as there is breath in me I will not give up my hope. In this world they do not realize who you are, your likes, your colors but once you recognized me and I was privileged, but only to find misery and unhappiness. For as you see you don't see without, God you're not going to find what you need. I know you, to-tole and Crazywolf it's hard and the society doesn't understand, but if only there could be a truce in our relationship for but a few moments the revolution that could happen! You are you and I understand each other, not always agreeing. I only wish you and I could agree on Christ, the Sweetness like honey from a stone would flow. Dare, Oh please dare, come share with me so I can suckle from your honey stone. I will not laugh because they have laughed for me. Oh if only you would choose to speak to me so we could learn from each other. You both know what I am saying because we did not come together and really know each other. Now I can only pray that you will come from your sickness and talk to me for I am alone without your needs and you are alone without me.

When without Christ, Jesus, I was alone. Now He says to me, "Any man who does the will of the Father is my brother, sister or mother". Lo, I am with you until the end of the world.

    I the Vulture

    Don't you know
    long before those words
    were thought of
    I was in the air
    don't you know?
    Oh, please! don't you know
    I know?
    don't you know?
    Oh the air has many
    thorns but the
    scent of the orchids
    on the spike on the
    winged road fills me with
    the joy of my Father,
    don't you know?
    smiling I will accept
    those blows I know
    are waiting
    don't you know?
    work night
    work day
    work morning
    work afternoon
    Oh work don't you know
    Yes you do
    I know ...
    O sweat, O persecution
    don't you know
    I know?
    O you injury
    yes you hurt; my wounds will heal.
    Soon I will work on my work
    for Him
    to try to please Him His daughter will try.
    will help!
    O stand aside
    don't you know?
    I am coming through
    Yes I will conquer
    because Father has conquered for me.
    Yes He loves me.
    O my heart sings
    with happiness to think
    long ago I was dead
    Peace makes mellow the
    gently joyful peach
    don't you know?
    I will come against
    every mountain soon
    They will be a highway
    a strength to me!
    My claws will serve me
    the doors will swing
    don't you know?
    My Father is looking
    out for me
    watching His daughter
    carefully His arm stretches
    down to open doors
    to slam them to protect
    how simple is my Father.
    His love touches me everywhere.
    So I may understand
    gently He teaches me.
    Always there when I need Him,
    no you need only trust Him
    all others will betray.
    I know not, to understand is to love
    How I want to taste a ride
    on a bay with black socks
    with a mane long, silken
    flowing in graceful
    flounces touching the
    soft warm wind
    To sit by a fireplace
    with a dog to call my
    own to have him nestle
    into my arms like a babe
    in soft flannel
    warm with her body
    sweet with her smell
    to hold my man-child
    for him to suck
    from my breast
    tender to my mind
    is winter alone
    soon to be with his
    to lay by his side
    to cook to sew
    to love amidst
    his gaze
    to fall into his arms
    for him to catch me
    as I fall.
    To bear his child
    to hold his hand
    as he comes forth
    and makes his stand
    as his son
    as our Father's heir.
    So as this winter
    chills my bones my heart
    is warm with thoughts
    of his sweet smell
    like frankincense
    will his love tenderly
    care for me? like wet, hot
    searing tears?
    O could I let you
    taste of my sweet sorrow
    to wipe your brow
    with hair soaked
    with my tears
    to hear my French horn
    singing out his
    to listen to my lips
    for love from Him my
    Father the Father of
    my man childs Father,
    too sweet to be mindful
    O my heart cannot touch
    upon nor bear
    the beauty alone
    the fears where are they
    chased away
    O to ponder upon
    the words that might pass
    no I cannot
    a fleeting glance of his face
    to hear
    him speak my name.
    In calling to me
    to watch his mighty strength
    my search goes on.
    I am not sure
    of his existence
    might not my child
    be born
    to be the leader of
    my home in wisdom and strength
    to care for him to love him
    am I asking too much
    to be loved in the way
    I feel is right?
    So much more of the
    road to be travelled
    so many desires
    to be fulfilled
    Why do I depend
    on your love so, my Lord?
    am I so cruel
    that I ask so much
    longing for perfection
    beauty and grace
    For righteousness
    to be wise is to be for
    Where are your gracious eyes
    You hunt like grace
    your leadership of humanity
    A gracious home built
    upon a rock a gentle heart
    to be free but yet always
    with you my darling
    I lived and loved
    moved with your grace
    submitted to your manly way
    that now turn my head
    to again search for someone
    who may take away your
    place in my heart
    I am resolved that there
    may never be one like you
    the pain and sorrow
    settles as to rest in my soul
    Oh, I loved you my darling
    and still I long for you
    and your touch to see you
    smile to watch you turn
    to me.
    my darling, my darling,
    my tears have turned cold
    as they come to touch my
    cheek for you.
    The stillness of my love
    for you is like the red flaming
    the loon laughs
    at my sorrow
    The wild canary sits
    and watches
    my flames dissolve
    where once they caught
    you my darling and the raging
    fire burned her sweet song
    O sorrow, O tears
    leave me at peace
    with the chilling cold
    of my tears
    to dream of him who
    will kindle my barren fire
    in loneliness of you
    and cause the embers that
    glow for you to cease
    like a Vulture's prey.
    I watch the embers
    that glow for you.
    My eyes burn with
    only Jesus constantly
    lavishes His love upon one who
    is so undeserving?
    so filthy in my ways
    So shallow is my compassion
    please don't ask how He loves me?
    The only sweetness of my
    true love that remains are the
    remnants of that love
    I want and do rekindle it
    to burn and glow and watch the
    flames dance with blue white
    to be only comforted by
    of your love for me
    To search to look to peer
    from my clothe of ashes
    the coldness of my finger to
    reach out to feel for him in my
    blindness I do not see
    him my true love
    where he be
    comforts my mourning
    is like black snakes haunting
    biting at my fingertips
    still yet Jesus still loves and
    cares for me
    For the one too blind to
    see on, too cold to feel
    the awkwardness of my blind
    cold unfeeling way but yet I am the
    O Vulture laugh for once
    you are the prey!
    Friend my Lord
    the Christ
    my Jesus
    to heal the wounds to restore
    warmth for coldness, light where
    I walk in blindness
    but my light is Your wings
    even in my blindness
    Your love is my warmth still
    in my coldness
    Your tender kindness even
    when I am rude and heartless
    I hope to walk in light
    like a bright flame in darkness
    again I will hunt for
    my prey
    This time to love but should
    I try to destroy He will protect
    my prey
    and make us equals.
    I the vulture must humble
    O Lord why
    am I hedged in?

    The lake with loon ...
    fullness of the call
    of the loon
    come spend a
    rainy afternoon
    with me
    share your
    wilderness with me
    and I will share with
    you mine ...

Chapter Two

    The moon is like a bright
    glowing light, giving
    none such as we
    will ever be able to
    But knowing
    as I look down to the
    pool. The reflection of the light
    glistening on the water. Rippling
    in patterns in my mind.

    My thoughts stretch
    for miles reaching out
    to the grey misty
    each thought comes
    down to make a pattern
    in the foam
    The high cliff
    is sprinkled with a
    rainy mist that
    makes my mind to

    The fury force that
    moves the wave to overlapped
    and dance together to meet
    and kiss and become one
    with you.
    To listen to your
    ferocious pounding on the
    to watch your tide encompass me
    Your majesty
    the One who is
    shows to me while the
    sun sets upon the
    tide going out and coming
    and in the darkness
    your raging rocks my
    with thoughts of the
    one who first loved me
    to bring me to the one
    who loves me now
    I want my love to wash
    him like the mist touches
    the clouds to life the
    sunset color
    off the sea
    before the sun will run away
    and brings the sea
    to blue coldness
    and know my Father
    is in secret.

    The Legend of the Golden
    Hemlock Tree

    streams rushing
    over rocks
    bedded in the wet dirt
    over years
    the branches floating
    like ostrich feathers
    in the overlapping
    intertwining wind
    from the mountain
    gracing the grass
    with skirted branches
    in ladylike fashion
    picking up her
    and dancing with
    the handsome
    mountain wind
    cold and relentless
    her sisters the beautiful
    golden leaves
    twitter and glimmer
    to catch the eye of the relentless
    handsome mountain wind
    in the April rain
    dancing to the
    melody in my
    A friendship
    started with such
    tiny words
    and rested in
    but sowing furrows of understanding
    The royal trees
    the tall and mighty
    ones sway
    like a voice from
    note to note
    fingers dancing over
    of graceful intensity
    intensity shining
    with the sun rays
    from the dew dropped
    like a field
    the dew drop crop
    lies in
    crevices in
    my mind
    they meet
    my hope.
    my heart
    Jesus walking on the water
    fires burning everywhere
    in the minds of men
    questions still unanswered
    dancing girls tell of
    that I like to dance
    to their freedom.


Excerpted from Boysna The Austrian Dancing Bear by Jo-Anne McGee Copyright © 2012 by Jo-Anne McGee. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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