Friday! Time for an American Hero! Today is:


Knowing your American Heroes

SACAJAWEA (c. 179?-1884)

 Image result for SACAJAWEA (c. 179?-1884)

Born about seventeen-ninety
In what is now called Idaho.
She was one of the “Snake People”
Or Shoshone as most people know.

Her name was Sac·a·ja·wea
Her father was Shoshone Chief
In Shoshone means “Boat Pusher”
The age of ten she would know grief.

At ten years of age she was kidnapped
On a raid by the Hidatsa
She was taken to their village
Now called Bismarck, North Dakota.

Changed her name to Tsi-ki-ka-wi-as
Means “Bird Woman.” in Hidatsa
A Canadian fur trader
Would soon buy Sac-a-ja-wea.

He claimed his name as Charbonneau
Was employed by Louis and Clark
He also bought “Otter Woman”
Before the journey did embark.

At Fort Mandan in the Dakotas
For the winter they waited there.
This was the safest place to be
Until the weather there was fair.

Around the twelfth of February
She gave birth to a baby boy
Named him Jean Baptiste Charbonneau
They all celebrated with joy.

The Lewis and Clark Expedition
Her husband an interpreter.
April seventh, eighteen-o-five.
They all resumed their trek westward.

She was allowed to join the group
As an unofficial member.
A great assist she proved to be
With calmness yet never somber.

Contrary to common belief
Sacajawea was not a guide.
She was taken so she could debrief
Languages on the ride.

She was very instrumental
For Lewis and Clark’s expedition.
With much courage and quick action
A calmness and self-possession.

There is a huge discrepancy
In the records of her passing
Two different dates are recorded
Depending where you’re asking.

She traveled with Lewis and Clark
A great influence to her tribe.
This woman called Sacajawea
A heroin cannot deny.




Depending on the source, her name is spelled two ways.
Some people use the g ,while others use the j
The expedition spent the winter at Fort Mandan and Sacajawea’s baby, Jean Baptiste Charbonneau, was born on Feb. 11 or 12, 1805. He was also given the Shoshone name, Pomp, meaning First Born.
The expedition resumed the westward trek on April 7, 1805. Their route was along the Missouri River, west to the mountains. On May 14, 1805 an incident occurred which was typical of the calmness and self-possession Sacajawea was to display throughout the journey. The incident was recorded in the diaries because of it’s significance to the success of the expedition. On that day, the boat Sacajawea was in was hit by a sudden storm squall. It keeled over on it’s side and nearly capsized. As the other members of the crew worked desperately to right the boat, Sacajawea, with her baby strapped to her back, busied herself with retrieving the valuable books and instruments that floated out of the boat. They had been wrapped in waterproof packages for protection and, thanks to Sacajawea’s courage and quick actions, suffered no damage.
Shoshone oral tradition says that Sacajawea did not die in 1813, but instead, wandered the west for a few years and eventually returned to her tribe on the Wind River Reservation. Tradition says she died there on April 9, 1884, a venerated and influential member of the tribe, and is buried between her son, Jean Baptiste, and her sister’s son, Bazil, whom she adopted. There is a monument over the grave on the Wind River Reservation, of the woman called Sacajawea.



Daily missive for Thursday the 16th of January.

Talk to me
Without rancour
In real-time
Before symptomatic
Takes away the reason
For a metaphor
Plainly spoken
Steal my thunder
It is not worthy
Of your attention
When the detail
Of which you are certain
Is not revealed
Without a curtain
Coming down
On the performance
Of our lives
Give me time
To solve the riddle
Of my position
In the charts
Before the stars move
Further in the sky
Realigning universal truths
Retrograde amnesia
Earthly tremors
Displacing all the wisdom
Of the ages
With the politics
Of chaos
Bearing down
On the apostate
Dying to conform
Praying for belief
When there is none
Other than the notion
Of self-interest.

Posted by: Ron DuBour | January 16, 2020

The voice of the sea~by Jeremy J Croucher



The voice of the sea

Calling out to me, the voice of the sea
my friend through all of these years
A solace and comfort, understanding and wise
conquering all of my fears

Its presence a constant, knowing no bounds
with movement incessant and free
A lifetime to master the language it speaks
to understand all that’s to see

At its calling and bidding always I’ll come
for why would I ignore a friend?
To breathe in its presence, feel its embrace
Something that never will end


Photo – Jempics

Posted by: Ron DuBour | January 16, 2020

” ARTIFICIAL HEART “~by Martin Gedge



POEM ” ARTIFICIAL HEART ” by martin gedge

Image may contain: one or more people, cloud, sky and outdoor

I’m in love with your artificial heart

a breakdown of emotions that never seems to start

it’s like I’m looking through a camera for a shadow in the dark

when everything is nothing that you think

for a face with no expression or a smile that is real

is just another reason when you fail at what you feel

when your living just a lie just to compliment a meal

and you choke on every word you try to drink

for a dealers spots a fool when your a joker in the deck

your cheap on your appeal when it comes to self-respect

showing like a ghost for all of those that you neglect

and hiding on your shelf and pity seat

for there is not a key that could open up the mind

a watch in the Oasis that could turn you back in time

giving answers to the questions or some clearly lighted sign

you live inside a shell without a beat

a coming to the senses where the eyes are vision blue

raining on your city on some shitty avenue

not aware of your surroundings and frankly not a clue

It’s quick the think we’re sinking in the dirt

for all that I have tried just to shine upon the soul

to show of all the love with the presence and the bow

and bloom of every flower in the face of your window

is falling in the certainty of hurt

I cannot understand or find the meaning for your pain

an able minded talker when your a walker with a cane

when your left here standing still life is passing like a train

and all the thoughts concerning now are gone

a little bit of confidence and the truth to being self

could go for you the distance and solidify the heath

enriched in the preserving and deserving of the wealth

if you could only tell me what is wrong…

by martin gedge©.

Posted by: Ron DuBour | January 16, 2020

Little Things~by rldubour



Little Things

Related image

Just before we fall asleep we ask the Lord and pray.
To bring peace on earth for all mankind and thank Him for our day.
We pray for those we love and those who have gone after.
We pray for joy and kindness and for the sounds of laughter.
We pray to ask forgiveness and learn to not ask why.
We thank the Lord for every day as it passes by.
We thank the Lord for little things that come to mean so much.
Like the hugging and the kissing and that loving touch.
Just knowing that we are loved through the end of time.
With candlelight and flowers and a glass of wine.
No matter what the problem is we will always weather.
To just enjoy the little things like just being close together.
This is what I ask in prayer just before I fall asleep.
These little things I hold most dear and those are what I seek.

R.L. DuBour

Posted by: Ron DuBour | January 15, 2020

Dalit IV (reverence)~by Jeremy J Croucher



Dalit IV (reverence)

Yes, this eloquence is precious
not for squandering or for waste
Revered as a diamond
with immeasurable value


As a poet I’ve a keen interest in differing poetic form and syntax from around the world. From the Philippines then comes ‘Dalit’ – four non-rhyming lines of eight syllables , 32 in total. Jemverse features four examples this week – three days ago, the day before yesterday, yesterday and today.



Daily missive for Wednesday the 15th of January.

There are few dreams
Worthy of remembrance
Nothing comes to mind
Unless it screams
The memories we have
Are soon forgotten
In the waking
Unlike when we were children
Spiders on the walls
Monsters in your head
Crabs beneath the bed
Waiting to nip your toes
When you step down
Onto the linoleum
Cold as ice
Even in summer,
When Jack Frost created
Patterns on the inside
Of the window
Where did all the time go
Busy chasing rainbows
Without end
When the treasure
Was always within reach
If we looked closely
Though darkly
Grows the journey
Into winter
Without the warmth
Of accumulated memory
It will be a few degrees colder
Inside your head
As you grow older
Alone, beneath the tousled sheets
On your brass bed
Until one day
When you just might
Wake up…

Posted by: Ron DuBour | January 15, 2020

Lunch Box~by rldubour



Lunch Box

Image result for Dick Tracy lunch box filled with spiders

I am six and a half and starting school this year.
Off to the mall to buy some things with my mommy dear.
I have to get new sneakers, pants and underwear.
Mom says I can’t have any gum but I don’t really care.
But the most important thing I want and want it quite a lot
My best friend went yesterday and that is what he got.
Mom says I can get one! So off for one we sought.
I am off to get my very first, my very first lunch box.
This has to be the best ever the best day of my life!
I am going to get a lunch box all new and shining bright.
But when I saw them all, wow so many, just how do I choose.
There is Donald Duck, Mickey Mouse just to name a few.
Peter Pan, Superman, and Batman in there too.
I thought I wanted Spiderman but I just can’t decide.
When mom said I have to pick just one I thought I was going to cry.
So I stood there a little longer and I thought and I thought.
I finally picked out Dick Tracey I liked that one a lot.
It’s pretty neat and even has a thermos there inside.
Gee, I can put almost anything that I want to hide.
Bugs and spiders, frogs and snakes whatever I decide.
Just hope mom don’t open it she will surely die.

Posted by: Ron DuBour | January 14, 2020

Loneliness~by rldubour




Image result for Loneliness

When the music goes it brings the silence like you never heard before.
A deafening sound that fills your heart as you ask, “Just how much more?”
How long can I take the pain this loneliness I feel.
How long can I fake the feeling that happiness is real?
To those I talk to everyday, they have no idea
That loneliness I feel inside is what I mostly fear.
Those days I feel the loneliness this feeling makes me blue.
And makes me think is there someone? That can make my dreams come true?
This is all I ask for, this is my only plea.
To find someone to fill the void this is what I need.
To share my thoughts and all frustrations just to tell someone.
And not to always feel alone and better days to come.
To wake up every morning with a smile on my face.
Just to know that someone cares this feeling you can’t replace.
To go upon my day with joyous thoughts I find.
And end each day just knowing that I’m on someone’s mind.
This is what I ask for, not asking for too much.
Just to know that someone cares and feel their loving touch.

R.L. DuBour

Posted by: Ron DuBour | January 13, 2020

Dalit II (eloquence)~by Jeremy J Croucher



Dalit II (eloquence)

Though dawn has yet to break a thought
surfaces and must be spoken
Repeated here lest I forget
and squander this moment again


As a poet I’ve a keen interest in differing poetic form and syntax from around the world. From the Philippines then comes ‘Dalit’ – four non-rhyming lines of eight syllables , 32 in total. Jemverse features four examples yesterday, today and for the next two.

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