Monday, December 17, 2012

IN YOUR MIND 12-17-12


A Poem by Eagle Cruagh


Create the world

In your mind

You are maker of

Your destiny

As you think

So it becomes

I think

Therefore I am


Work your plan







Your world

---- Eagle Cruagh

© 2012 Eagle Cruagh

Friday, December 14, 2012

SNAKE PIT #2 12-14-2012


You are probably confused as you

read Snake Pit. This is the point:

The purpose of government is to

protect the citizens.

I attempted to show that I am

partially experienced at dealing

with mental patients. Mental patients

are free to go about killing people ,

smoking pot, doing other drugs and

doing as they damn please.

The government`s answer to this is

"ban firearms". Legalize pot, make

it possible to pull the plug on "old"

people, give everyone a guaranteed

wage .

The governments answer to the probleem

is to not answer . All of the serious

problems , the problems of life and death

are the result of at least temporary

insanity. The use of drugs, supply of

money, total relaxation of laws.

Books have been written, movies filmed

showing what snake pits were and what

our country has become.

Early this morning the shooting at a

school was reported. The TV reporters

have been talking without stop and it

is now 2:00 PM...... What are they

talking about ? The horror. Our duty

to the children. The things that must

be done such as posting armed guards

in the schools, banning guns and

telling parents how to protect kids.

Does it seem more and more that

we live in the snake pit and the

patients are in charge ?

I have no intention of insulting or

putting down people with mental

problems. We need to help them and

at the same time protect them from

themselves if they have an affliction that

renders them dangerous to themselves

or others.

------ John Crowley

SNAKE PIT 12-14-2012


preface:  This is a blog.  If this does not make sense
just wait.  It is a blog and I am writing a story that
begins long , long ago.

Long , long ago one of the individuals in a community
would be "acting peculiar", "funny" the people used
to say.  So, they called the Sheriff or the cops and
the policeman would examine the person and if he
decided the person was really "funny" he would take
the person to the "asylum" where he would be
retained, examined by psychiatrists, categorized and

Eventually our leaders discovered that many of their
constituents were being kept in asylums so they
opened the gates of the "snake pits" and turned the
patients loose .

Our Democracy thrived and flourished.   More and
more rules were enacted by congress, giving the
citizens more and more rights.  

Many of the citizens were under the care of psychiatrists
and psychologists, but they still retained their rights.
Evenutally the "inmates" prospered, exerted their
rights and some of them became the people in charge.

There was a terrible murder in a school in the East just
today.   The anti-gun faction is going crazy.

Just today some crazed individual was reported to
have killed thirty three children in a school in China
----with a knife. 
Of course there is little said about that incident.  That
is in a different asylum.

You think I am kidding about the inmates being in
charge.  Right ?

Long, long ago when I was a Pharmacist Mate in the
Navy I worked in the "mental wards" of a large Navy

One day  I was in charge of the lunch room .  I was
assisted by a group of the more ambulatory patients.
Under me in rank was a mental patient (patient boss)
who dispensed the food  and eating utensils, knives
and forks, etc.

This boss, who was physically large, good looking and
had a lot of vitality  started throwing the patients
around, acting intensely disturbed.

I tried to calm this individual, but he became more
violent .   He attempted to strike me.  I susequently
got a head lock on him and choked him out.
Then I secured him in a locked "quiet room" and
informed Ms. Wamble, the head nurse who summoned
nurse Stephens and they rushed off to attend the

After attending my other duties , and patients, I passed
the locked , quiet room and looked in to see how the
violent patient was doing.   The two nurses (in charge)
were sitting on the floor.  One of them had the patient`s
head in her lap and the two were stroking his head.

If I had realized he was their,s I would have called them
to stop his violent rampage in the first place.

The next week I received orders shipping me over seas.
My leaders had spoken.

As I entered a mobile hospital  in New Caledonia the
first person I saw was a Lieutenant who had been my
former commander.   He was in patient clothing and
was hanging on to the fence in an  area for disturbed
mental patients.

Even back then I was becoming aware that disturbed
individuals were making the rules.

This is being continued.   Unless of course I am ordered
to stop it by one of --- the--- patients ?

-----John Crowley
       (aka--Eagle Cruagh)

Wednesday, December 12, 2012



Met her on the street , we talked

about old times.

I had to go --- "Here she said, take

my car". I did.

Driving off in to the hills, got hungry,

stopped at sandwich shop , paid and

started to leave.

Damn, I did`nt want to see old friends.

Just wanted to get out of there, things

to do. But, there was Ivan walking

toward me. We sat down again and had

the best conversation--- caught up on

old times, slapped each other on the

back and left--- "Stay in touch".

Out the corner of my eye, Ivan checking

out my (friends) car,

I have known that guy for years, he never

missed a detail in his life.

I`m think`n, "before Ole Ivan is a mile down

the road he will have checked the reg., on

that car." He knows Sally, he will wonder

why I am driving Sally`s car--- and Ole Ivan

will find out..... always does.

Then I remember. Ivan died in 1991.

Sure hope Sally got that car back because

I woke up and have not seen Sally for 20


---- Eagle Cruagh

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

OLD LINE SHACK (12-12-12)

January 01, 2012

Old Line Shack

Dang. With Christmas time, visitors and other great things happening, I just plumb forgot the old line shack.

The last time I was down by the crick, where the old line shack is, there was a teen age girl chop`n firewood for the cook stove, an old dog with three legs lay`n by a horse that was tied to the front porch. Of course there was me, sitt`n my sorrel pacer and roll`n a smoke with the make`ns.

I was go`n inside, but I don`t know them folks and they sure don`t know me. I just looked around the yard where I used to play when just a wee kid. The old snapp`n turtle that almost got me when I thought it was a mountain lion. The old dog reminded me of the one we had, got caught in a trap one winter and he gnawed his leg off to get out. We pampered him for a while, but he didn`t need no help, he was just fine.

Look`n out across the yard reminded me of the Christmas tree that used to grow on the far cutbank. My Mother used to see it from her kitchen window `til one day, just before Christmas my brother came drag`n it home behind his horse and put it up in the front room.

That was in the old days, when the shack was home.

We used to hold the spring round up out there in the corrals. Cowboys used to rope and ride with their .44 by their side. Actually it was more than likely just a .22. The West had already been won and the gun was just used for shoot`n rattle snakes.

But, it was fun times. Big bon fire with some cowpuncher smoke`n up a bunch of Mountain Oysters. Some other Honyokker strum`n an old beat up guitar. Bawlin calves be`n stripped of their masculinity, herds of cattle be`n drove in and out to the tune of yell`n, git-hah!

Old Fred, the neighboring rancher who teased me unmercifully, sitt`n on a stump by the camp fire. He slapped his leg when he told a great joke, slapp`n the pocket full of stick matches he always carried. How I rolled on the ground in a fit of laughter when I saw him erupt in a mass of flames, runn`n for the crick to jump in and put out the fire.

You might say, "those were the days", but you would be wrong. Them ghosts of the days and nights, old memories kinda brand a place in the mind where it flares up now and then and them ghosts come march`n `cross the pasture by the old line shack.

--John Crowley

Mike Crowley Sunday, January 01, 2012
(0) comments

December 14, 2011


Just an Old Line Shack

Monday, December 10, 2012

FRESH MEAT 12-10-2012


Yellow Dog lies in tall grass

Licking his wounds

Battling Tanka big run

Now some time they pass

Big fierce snorting beasts

Fought `til warriors done

Herd fills the valley

Fierce warrior make-um run

Yellow Snarling Dog hurl his spear


Chasing Eagle hurl another

Gottum Yellow Dog`s meat

Now they friends day all done

Gonna split that hide

Holy feast tonight and bride

Can have whole Tanka tongue

---- Eagle Cruagh

ABOUT GO`N HOME 12-10-2012


Reckon you never heard this before

I was jist thinkin as I worked a stick

You never really follered me

Can`t x-pect you to know what makes

me tick

I can hear you think`n , "who cares ?"

Can`t blame you not one bit

Today nobody even my own kids

Just plain don`t give a shit

What would I like just suppose

Sposen that an old guy can still like

That old ranch where I grew up

Pulls at me like there is still a piece

A`me there

Down on Thunder Butte Crick

Where the cat birds call

Where all the wild animals

In the night still prowl

Silly how an old coot still yearns for home

Like all the people gone and buried

And I had my fill of city life

Once you asked me what I think

I either have to say or take to drink

That`s all there is , don`t have no more

Jist a lonesome old hack get`n dewy eyed

Wonder`n what life`s got in store

`Cause I can`t stop think`n

I`m never ever go`n home

----- Eagle Cruagh