A collection of poems, short stories and chants

Days Gone By

I hope this poem will make everyone wonder why
We’re so determined to fight.
Life is a constant battle
To not behave like a herd of cattle;
Blind to what waits for us at the end of the struggle,
And after that last breath, once we die.

Well, humans don’t live in a field munching on grass
And drinking from a trough,
And moving in mass, grazing
And gazing up at a cloud that blocks the warm sun’s rays,
With only a fleeting bewilderment on the predicament.
No, humans are a curious species, and question the whys
And wherefores of everything. It’s our way.

We all fight for what we believe in.
We fight for the love of our families, and our best friend.
We all should be united in fighting for our country.
It is, after all, one nation under God.
And we should raise our child to be a respectful citizen.
The Native Americans taught their children to respect elders;
And to be kind and generous to guests was the polite thing to do.
But why has so much changed; the youth of today,
They’ve lost their way, and wander in darkness made by
The errors found in this generation;
What will it be like in Tomorrow’s generation?
What will become of this nation?
Now’s the time to think of ways to better spend our time.
Or one day will come when we’ll break down crying,
Wondering about those days gone by
And why we let them flee without trying
to do anything to improve them;
The days roll away, look out, oh my.

Never let anyone stand in your way.
Always stand tall, and watch what you say.
Get together, and in the Lord’s name, let’s pray.
This Earth is on loan; we don't have long to stay.
Let’s use our time wisely.
It won't be long before the days have gone by.

Days gone by; every one, open your eyes.
Days gone by; I hope we’ll try to live a righteous life.
Days gone by; we need to set things right.
Days gone by; praise our Lord, deep into the darkest night.
Days gone by; take his hand and he’ll lead you to the light.
Days gone by; don’t give up the fight.
Amen; days gone by.
JD Couch & Jerriann Law. (11-22-2015

Don't Mess With Our Southern Pride


We are a part of the South, proud to be just who we are.

If you don't like us, just know that no one from the South cares.

Just because you take down the Rebel flag, don't think we’re easy to scare.

You can call us racist until your eyes pop from your head, that don't make it so.

You mess with our Southern Pride, you'll see just how far you can go;

And then, the truth, I bet you'll know it well,

cos far as we care, you can go straight to hell.


All I hear is, "That is a racist symbol; it should be abolished.”

You forget its true meaning: it was the flag that many Southern boys died

 to honor and protect, no soldier let the flag touch the ground during battle, they tried

with all their might to keep it upright,

And if a flag-bearer was shot, another took his place,

For it was to the Southern Cause, their life, they promised.


Who is the racist now? Just keep talking your bullshit.

I bet not one of you cares what that flag really meant.

It stands for Southern Unity.

Back then the Federal Government wanted to take our Southern Rights away.

Raising cotton on plantations, the South held high standards on the economy,

Although they had less people in the population

Than the North, whose main interest lay in factory industries,

The South was more wealthy than the North felt they deserved to be.


The South had strong trade bonds with France and other countries,

And the war reflected on the right to transport;

No, it never was only about the issue of Slavery,

But Kettle black, Pot...didn’t New York City

Have a lucrative Slave selling port;

Yes, they sure hell-fire did.

And high were the bids

When sales were made on prisoners bought right off the slave trader’s ships.


Don't mess with our Southern pride, if you know what's good for you.

Southern Pride, from North Carolina to Tennessee and Kentucky,

Virginia, and West Virginia too. And all the other Southern states, including Texas,

We loved to kickass of any Yankee boy who came our way

Back then, it was an act of survival; do it or die.


Southern Pride, it's our God-given right.

Don't think you can change us, and be prepared to fight.

We’ll Stand our ground; that is guaranteed to you.

Our Southern Pride is bound to honor what we love, so try

to kill us; you damn sure have to use all your might.

We won’t back down; piss off our Southern Pride

And watch the Wild Cat come unbound.


Southern people stick together; we are family

It’s the way we live and you can call us redneck or hillbilly;

It won’t change the fact we’re honest to the core

And we’re a genteel bunch but insult us; we’ll kick your ass out the door.


So go ahead, take down the Confederate flag; we’ll fly it anyway.

 It’s part of our history, and our ancestors died believing it worthy.

Just like the Yankees died in droves; pile upon pile;

Go ahead. As I recall. flag-burning old Glory’s been going on a long time, too.

Do what you want and pick any day.

It’s the American’s Constitutional right to express our feelings this way.


Our beliefs are in our hearts, and that you can’t touch.

No, you can’t ever rip that flag from our heart.

Just remember, we’re a proud lot;

Proud of who we are, and that will never change.

We’ve been here right from the start,

Standing up for what we believe in, and living our Pride.

Trust us, it has been rough, and a tough ride.

But we’re still here upholding our Southern Pride.

JD Couch & Jerriann Law 8-16-2015

Hear the Seasonal Call (Chant)

Hear the Seasonal Call (Chant)

Snowhawk: Listen carefully as the summer breeze

Whispers through the evergreen trees;


Windhawk: Summer is coming to an end;

Already yellow and red leaves

Fall to the ground


Snowhawk: A chill in the air is Nature’s way to say:

“Autumn will soon be here.”


Windhawk: Warm days are winding down,

Even as the sun sets earlier each day


Snowhawk: Soon children will need their jackets

Just so they can run outside and play

This lets us know Winter is on its way.


Windhawk: There's always a special feeling in the air,

As seasons turn: a sense of awed expectancy and wonder


Snowhawk: Soon the snow will cover the land and chill the air

As Old Man Winter settles in.


Windhawk: From Summer's heat and lazy days,

To Autumn's Harvest Moon and school days,

To Winter snow and the Christmas holiday,

The year winds down to when New Year's Eve comes again,

And with the New Year, changes bring spring flowers come May.


Snowhawk: 2016 is just around the corner;

May the New Year bring great joy, to one and all

And may we all stand proud and tall.


Windhawk: Listen to the Seasonal Call; come one and all!

Seasons are there for us to mark our days well.


Snowhawk: Every season has a story to tell;

A'ho, listen to the seasons call out to us, one and all.


JD Couch and Jerriann Law, 9-16-2015


Pure Country Ain’t What It Used To Be And it looks like it won’t ever be

Pure Country Ain’t What It Used To Be

And it looks like it won’t ever be



This country music they play on the radio,

What is it supposed to be?

Is it Pop or Crap or a bit of both?

One thing’s for sure, that shit ain’t Country.

And here lately what I hear I loathe


Styles are changing, yes, it’s true

They even have singers who do ‘Country Rap’

Rap ain’t Country and it won’t ever be

But it still sucks; Country ain’t Country anymore

Rap needs to stay where it started out

And so does Pop;

They can take a big ole Hip-Hop

And get the hell out of where they don’t belong

This shit is just plain wrong

Pure Country ain’t what it used to be

And it looks like it won’t ever be


Who the hell are they kidding, what are these songs about?

Well, they just have lost the heart in Country

When they branched out

And I think they’ve lost touch with their roots

And they don’t even care

Nope, dang tooting, where have all the Country Crooners gone?


No, you’re right, this Country Rap,

Which is just crap to my ears,

It’s losing sight of what this music stands for;

And singers like Blake Shelton should know it’s wrong.

What hole did he fall in that turned him into the asshole he is now?

He can’t keep a good woman by his side for long,

And he doesn’t take his own business seriously,

Otherwise why does he churn out the crap he’s made lately?

Somebody needs to give him a big ole slap up side the head

Then maybe he’d see the stars and the red,

White, and blue stripes we Americans see when we think Country music.


Is Country gonna die when all the legends are gone?

Most are dead except for Merle and Willie and Hank Junior,

And a few other select singers like Reba or Loretta Lynn;

Who will care enough to save true Country?

If everyone accepts alternative substitutes without a murmur;

Any tune they want to label Country these days passes, see?


Well, these new groups of people, the up-and-comers, they

Won’t ever hold a candle to Williams, Jennings, Jones or Cash.

And if they were alive today, they’d say

Straight to Nashville’s brass, ‘Just kiss my ass’

And they’d head to Texas to join Willie;

Waylon, Hank, Johnny and George,

They’d all throw the bird as they passed

No, Pure Country just ain’t what it used to be.

And you know it’s true.


George Strait has now Sixty-two number one hits

His music is awesome, but of course it’s

Also Pure Country music, too

No doubt about it,

None of this new stuff even comes close;

You know it’s true.


Yes, and this new bunch of singers like Luke Bryant who

Said derogatory things about Waylon and Willie and others;

They will never reach the legendary status of the original Outlaws;

Not if they live a hundred years; they’re a shot in the dark

And their light is already fading out, brother.

Luke just proved he wasn’t worthy to step in a country singer’s boots.


They took the country out of Country music

And corrupted it to satisfy some new twist to the plan;

But all they got was a jumbled mess that barely makes sense

And has no real tie to what Country music is all about:

Heartache, breakups and love gone wrong, and how good it is to get even.

Titties in my beer; Boot-scooting romance on the dance floor...

Real Country ain’t never a bore.


The ones in Music City who made the switch, they need a good swift kick

Change it back to the way it was before; why fix

What wasn’t broken to begin with, you Jug heads?

Just leave it Pure Country

Yes, just set it free

Leave it alone, just leave it be

For country boys like Cash, Haggard, Hank Williams and me.

JD Couch and Jerriann Law, 8-3-2015


Forgotten: Into the Night

Into the night, walks a brave young man,

He's not afraid to fight

For the country he loves so dearly;

He loves his American homeland.

He will do whatever is in his might

to protect America from harm,

Even if it means he fights in hand-to-hand

Combat along side his brothers-in-arms.


Into the night, he faces great peril

Darkness overtakes him: to live or to kill

He wished fervently to return home,

His wish is  granted, but at a heavy cost,

He wakes in hospital, a leg lost.


Into the night, they send him home again,

Only half the man he was before;

He finds his life hard to cope

He can’t face the world anymore.

He turns to prescription dope

And any other outlet that helps him find

A way to escape the ugliness, for

He’s surrounded in sin


Into the night, he sinks into misery

Living only a partial life, oh the irony

Father to three young children and

Husband to a beautiful and patient wife.

He knows he should focus on their needs in life,

But the greatest darkness he’s found

Burns a deep hole inside him he can’t let go


Into the night, he tumbles wounded in soul as well as body

The government turned their backs on him, the soldier

He’s just an expendable number,

Wounded on a field of red

One who walked among the dead


Into the night, a man who sacrificed his body, lost a limb

He’s thanked and released from service and then forgotten

Hell yes, he called the whole deal rotten

He’s driven to seek solace in the bottle

Anything that helps ease the pain and guilt away


Into the night, aimless, he wanders

All hope has vanished as he ponders

On what he should do

With this pain that won't go away, it’s true

He doesn't want to take his frustrations out on his family.

They deserve more than his hollow life holds, he can’t shake the blues

He can’t take it anymore.


Into the night, he prays for an answer but his faith is low.

At dawn’s break, he takes his gun from its drawer and sits on the bed

His mind is filled with the horrors of war, he must go

And end it all for the last time; he should have died and he wants to be dead

He’s ready to give up the ghost and puts the gun to his head.


Into the night, he rocks between unsure and surety

He’s glad the wife and kids went to Grandma’s while he cleared his mind

When they return, she’ll find

A gristly scene; and she won’t be able to sleep in this bed again

He realizes this is a selfish act and unfair to his family

But he doesn’t feel worthy

Of their love or attention; he feels unkind.


Into the night, his life hangs in the balance

He hasn’t written a note; why should he?

His wife and he has danced the last dance

OK, he squeezes the trigger, and it clicks on an empty chamber

Shocked, he stares at the gun just as a gust of wind blows in the window.

He is transfixed within a trance

He hears the voice of Jesus, Lo!


Into the night, the Lord speaks.

“Why do this, my son? Give your life to me

And the answers you seek I will satisfy,

Until the final hour seeks

To end for all time sin

But yes, these greedy war instigators shall fail

They will feel wrath’s judgement. I died for thee;

Turn over your sins to me.

Let me drop them to the bottom of the Sea.

I'll fight for you, just as you fought for man, and Country.

That, my son, insures you have a special place in Heaven.


Into the night, the young man continued,

‘In war time, I did things no man should have done

And seen things no man can forget.

I’m not a coward, but all I wanted to do was run.

So into the face of hell I lickity-split;

That unjust war should have never been.

They taught me how to be their killer

And I did my job well, and I’d do it again

For the love of my family

And to protect my country from evil men.

But I was programmed to be the ultimate soldier and then

Once it was over I find the reality

To be how little I was appreciated by the Government.”


Into the night, Jesus said, “Don't think of those things ever again.

Regardless of man’s failure in brotherhood

I am there for you, I am the never ending friend.

When you reach out, I’ll be there beside you.”


Into the night, Gods wrath is coming, the war of all wars

“But when God is on our side, no one can stop us for long

This world dies a little more each day.

Soon all you see before you will surely pass away.

But God and his followers will forever stand strong.


Into the night, the ones who stand true will be the ones who prevail.

“So stand true in what you believe to be right.

When that day of judgement arrives,

This world will come to an end and the wars will cease

For there will be no one left to fight.

And God’s kingdom will reign in Lasting Peace.

Just believe this: it has been long in coming.”

JD Couch & Jerriann Wayahowl 7-26-2015

  • Ferguson's Ridge Marker

    Site which inspired The Rolling Hills of History is located in Rutherfordton, North Carolina, and
    both photos were taken by JD Couch.

  • Ferguson's Ridge Field

    The place where Ferguson and his men camped in September and one month later the men who were after them, also camped in same location.

The Rolling Hills of History

Major Patrick Ferguson led a troop of four-hundred soldiers eastward through the foothills of North Carolina where a battle waited for them in King’s Mountain. This is the story of that perilous journey.
Patrick Ferguson’s Scottish fighting spirit often lured him into trouble. They began the march on Monday, September 24, 1774. Patrick knew it would take approximately ten days through the McDowell County River Basin, and then through the Bobcat Ravine to King’s Mountain.
No matter what the outcome, he knew that his destiny would be fulfilled, or it would kill him. One thing he was sure about: the enemy would never claim the mountain as long as they defended it.

It was a long trek. His troops grew tired, and footsore; however, they followed their leader valiantly onward another twenty-five miles.
Crossing the French Broad River, they fought off Copperheads and Water Moccasins. Once they regained dry land, the men in the regiment, checked themselves for bites. One of the younger recruits, Corporal Jacob Griffith, had received several bites and he perished later that evening. The others made it across the river unharmed.
Patrick had come a long way with these recruits. Most of them weren't  trained soldiers, but were farmers and property owners. They were a simple, country-bred bunch, not refined or well-educated, but they were willing to fight to insure the safety of their homes and to stop the English from taking over and forcing them to serve once more beneath the Royal British Crown.
Patrick had come to America with orders to slaughter these people. He had had a change of heart and refused to follow orders that made no sense. He’d rather die. Now, he held the men in high regard.

He looked into the sky, and watched as the sun slowly sank behind the hazy-blue mountain.“We will make camp over the next rise.”
His third-in-command passed the order along to the rest of his troops.
They walked until they reached a lush green meadow. There, Patrick said, “This is one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen.”
The mountain view spread outward in every direction. One officer said, “From this day forward, this place will be known as Ferguson’s Ridge.”



Today it is a landmark in North Carolina. It became the very first Rutherford County seat known as Gilbert Town.
The Meadow is still the way it was when Major Patrick Ferguson began his trek east. Today, that path is one of the longest historic trails as it winds through the foothills of McDowell and Rutherford, and into Cleveland County where King’s Mountain looms high overhead.
Patrick Ferguson’s grave, along with the men who perished with him in the battle of King’s Mountain, are buried at the very top in the Patrick Ferguson Memorial Gardens.
It will be remembered, forever, as a major part played in the rolling hills of History.

JD Couch (5-15-2015; Jerriann Law, finished 6-13- 2015)

Man’s Animal Guides, a Chant

 Snowhawk: All Men have Animal Spirits that guide them through life


Windhawk: From the beginning of time, Men have been brothers with the Animals;

Even in the bible, Adam was assigned to care for the Animals and give them names.


Snowhawk: Be it the Hummingbird or the Squirrel, they all serve a purpose

To keep Man on the right path of knowledge and understanding


Windhawk: Yes, Snowhawk, each Animal or Creature of Air, Water or Land are Teachers to Man.


Snowhawk:  They help us all; even though some of us will never understand why,

But we must get on the right path while we can


Windhawk: Each of us have special ties to certain Guides who help Man


Snowhawk: The Native Americans know how their Animal Spirit Guides help protect them,

So shouldn’t Man help them? Let’s make a stand.

They will guide us and show us the right way to protect the land.


Windhawk: Yes, brother, we should lend a hand and maybe this land will improve


Snowhawk: Yes, sister. Let’s all get off our asses and get in the groove


Windhawk: Watch; listen and act


Snowhawk: Yes, let the Animal Spirits see our kind acts

Help them to understand the pure facts


Windhawk: They assist us just by their presence


Snowhawk: It has been said our Animal Guides live within our souls and are part of us;

Deep within; watching from inside; call them forth and let them be the guide,


Windhawk: It is a unified existence in the best of times, but we have to allow their help

And not put on airs or act like we think we’re superior; we’re not


Snowhawk: For they were here before us; before man came into existence,

They were Mother Earth’s protectors before man became the dominant species


Windhawk: Yes, that’s true brother Snowhawk


Snowhawk: A’ho, lead us, oh, Animal Spirits;

Guide us in the right way of understanding,

And in the right way that leads to a good life, A’ho.


JD Couch and Jerriann Law, 6-19-2015

On Turning Fifty-four, Jimmy Couch


You went to sleep age Fifty-three and woke up at the start of age Fifty-four.
You couldn’t hold back a big ole grin; oops, toothless: yep, got no teeth any more.
You set up in bed and hear a creak; it ain’t the bed, it’s you, oh man;
And then you swing your feet on the floor.
You aim to stand, but first you hold on to your spinning head; gotta give yourself a hand.
Your world is going too fast and these days just don’t last.
You can’t believe you’re over the hill without a sled, and it’s steep; go back to sleep.
Maybe you’ll rewind and find yourself at Thirty-five; that wasn’t too awful.
Yup, you mean Forty-five, the reverse age you woke up to this morning;
Funny thing about age; that was just nine years ago, not ten; what you wish for: be careful.

Just stand on your feet, old man... and when you wake up at Seventy-eight,
And think back to being Fifty-four, you’ll smile, because Fifty-four ain’t so bad after all.
So get your ice cream and cake, and open all your presents, and hear the song
Addressed to you, coming from everyone’s heart: Happy birthday, Jimmy.
Yep...when you were ten, Fifty-four was an age long in coming,
And yet here it is, so enjoy it full measured; have you a helluva ball.
You’ve earned it, brother Snowhawk.
I love you; your partner and sister in spirit,
Jerriann Wayahowl Windhawk.
Jerriann Law, 6-15-2015