| Harleysweetseat's Stats |
| Views | 4733 |
| Ranking | 3075 of 111636 members |
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| Location: |
Chicago Suburb, South Elgin , IL |
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| Looking for: |
Friends, relationships, riding partners
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Introduction:
FEEL THE MAJIK - WITCHY'S WIKKED GRAPHIX
A Cherokee Blessing
May the Warm Winds of Heaven
Blow softly upon your home an fields.
May the Great Spirit
Bless all who enter here.
May your Mocassins
Make happy tracks in many fallen snows,
And may the Rainbow of life
cross over your pathway.
WITCHY'S WIKKED GRAPHIX
FEEL THE MAJIK - WITCHY'S WIKKED GRAPHIX
And warriors we shall be
For freedom, my Lord, for freedom
Power hath descended forth from Thy Hand
That our feet may swiftly carry out Thy command
WITCHY'S WIKKED GRAPHIX
I live my life each and every day with honor and respect
The open road is my home, the back seat is my domain
If I take the risk, you surly can,
But, in all things be a man
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WITCHYS WIKKED GRAPHIX
Welcome
God Bless America,
Country, Honor and Respect,
I am Irish, Scotch and Cherokee by heritage, American by birth, born in the bluegrass
country of Kentucky close to the boarder of Tennessee and one very proud American.
The back seat of a Harley was the lure. Met him When I was sixteen,
married him at 18 and stayed 30 years.
We are divorced, but we remain friends because we are parents,
this responsibility is forever.
We have two beautiful grown married daughters and
the cutest granddaughter you ever saw.
I thank the Creator for the miracle of life,
my daughter is having another baby,
due in May
No regrets and no looking back, life goes on.
Sometimes two people grow apart,
and there is no fixing what you grow up to be.
I keep on walking my pathway tell the
Creator wants me causing mischief somewhere else.
This lady writes, I love to write
and I am pretty good at it after years of practice.
Novels, poetry and short stories,
a tale or two of mischief I leave for people
to read.
Seeking a life partner with a passion for life and a need for a warm willing
kind hearted back warmer
I be filling the empty space behind you as we ride
the open road.
I seek Templer, if you understand this statement
you have read all I have written on this page
I am not in the least interested in players,
if you are, do not bother, please.
Not into games, cams or bull shit
nor am I any mans toy!
I am a little bit old skool, have old skool values and that is not going to change.
I learned at an early age the importance of respect and honesty,
and that a real man always has his ladies back,
a good feeling!
I work in the construction field in a management position,
and have been in this industry for 38 years.
My like my job and in the course of this career,
I have rarely met anyone I did not like.
A sports minded woman, Cubs, Bears, Black Hawks and Chicago Wolves,
Most of all I love riding the road
on the back seat of a Harley.
I have the best friends a woman could want
and a very loving family to fill my life.
Only thing missing is "you"
and more time in a day to appreciate
what the Creator has given to me.
WITCHY'S WIKKED GRAPHIX
If you take but a blade of grass, you owe Mother Earth!
We are not all one people, or one soul,
but we are one Nation, we are the First Nation
and we have been glued together with blood and bone.
We have faught and died and shared profound sorry
and my people walked a trail of tears
not to be forgotten,
both the Cherokee and the Celts.
I rejoice in my heritage and embrace it!
WITCHY'S WIKKED GRAPHIX
FEEL THE MAJIK - WITCHY'S WIKKED GRAPHIX
The Wolf Pack is coming, if you follow the leader follow there tracks
FEEL THE MAJIK - WITCHY'S WIKKED GRAPHIX
Do not try to change the Dixie girl in me,
Born in a Kentucky holler,
Near the boarder of Tennessee
Wrapped in tradition as Southern Pride can be,
We still stand one Nation,
That will always be!
WITCHY'S WIKKED GRAPHIX
FEEL THE MAJIK - WITCHY'S WIKKED GRAPHIX
I read about some squirrely guy,
Who claims, he just don't believe in fightin'.
An' I wonder just how long,
The rest of us can count on bein' free.
They love our milk an' honey,
But they preach about some other way of livin'.
When they're runnin' down my country, hoss,
They're walkin' on the fightin' side of me.
Merle Haggard
BFREAKY.COM
If you ride a bike like this and call yourself a biker, I do not want to hear,
100 miles or a 1000 miles is to far to ride to be with me,
I maybe old skool but I am no ones fool,
A great romancer is not a man who loves a different women every night
Or makes one sided deamnds, no,
he's a man who loves one women for a life time
And knows how to command.
WITCHY'S WIKKED GRAPHIX
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Turn ons:
Old Skool manners and respect, laughter, intimate conversation, fun times, private times, and riding behind a passionate man, is that you? |
Turn offs:
Normally not too much bothers me, but, lack of respect and honor is a huge turn off. |
Ideal:
A take charge man who knows what he wants his life
to be, preferably old Skool, honest with a since of humor and an understanding of the brotherhood.
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Activities:
Charity Events, riding the road for those that can't!
----///-\\\----Put This
---|||---|||---On Your
---|||---|||---account If
---|||---|||---You Know
----\\\-///----Someone
-----\\///-----Who Died
------///\-----Of
-----///\\\----Cancer
----///--\\\---Or who may be suffering from it.
If you are walking that long road, you are not walking alone,
I uphold you and encourage your every step for I to have walked in your footprints!
In loving memory of all those women and men who gave it the good fight. Hand on my heart
may you all rest in peace,
I will always ride for you!
East Coast Chicks Ride for cancer research, June 2009!
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Interests:
Writing novels and poetry, riding the open road with you, Nascar, family and friends, living life to the fullest.
Cherokee Nation and The Celtic Nation, my people
IF THESE WALLS COULD TALK
Lay your head my big old brass bed
On my silk sheets lay your handsome bald head
What would these walls speak if they could talk,
He lit her fire behind a door was locked
Perhaps `tis time the biker took stock
Lay your head my big old sweet brass bed
An’ sing my song baby all nite long
He is smiling, her hand in my back jeans pocket
Around her neck, she wears my gold locket
When she rides two up it ain’t no crotch rocket
It’s my Harley and I’m not about to stop it
Lay your head my big old brass bed
An’ sing baby sing my song all night long
Baby all nite long you were signing my walls
Building this insatiable bond, yes, signing my halls
Ah, the sweet secret that grows, I will never disclose,
With in me it hides to soothe the angry warrior’s pride
He watches me quietly, I will not cower I will not hide
Lay your head my big old sweet brass bed
An’ sing my song baby all night long
Her hallways whisper, she wants me deeper and deeper
Higher and lower, smoldering ashes left for the sweeper
Her fire that traveled through me higher and higher
Sweet jealously that grows, I know she’s a keeper,
Left in me the knowledge I will keep her
Ah yes, his flute I do play, to me the melody belongs
Keep on signing my halls biker tell early dawn
Sing to me chapter and song
Barbara Guthrie©
copy right to author
May 20, 2008
PEACE LIKE A RIVER FLOWS
When sorrow like thunder rolls
We find ourselves once again having to let go
An’ we search the shadows back in time
I am looking for you, remembering the times
An’ all the while the memories I `canna let go,
Memories captured in a friend, I refuse to let go
Can I cry, do I cry real tears, what do I do?
No, instead, I pick up a pen and I write you
My solace, my friend whom I did depend
I know not what to say, know not what to do
So I talk to you, pour out my soul into you
In some small way, you right the way
Then peace like a river through me flows,
Memories remain and a time past I urn to go
Beside the river where you once fed me
This, I realize, is part you and part me
It is about solace of the soul, yet it is rage
It is about a friend, how he fades, whom I write
Though I searched, I did not find the song to sing you
No sweet lyrics could I bring to sooth the wounded you
A soul angry, hurting, perhaps not yours, perhaps it is mine!
For the man was loosing interest an' I was unaware
I did not see, did not heed, his unwillingness to share
The blindness, absolute blindness of the one who cared
I `canna hold on the sweet spirit you once were to me
Near the beautiful sunset just over the sand dune yonder
With a sky a blaze in color, I shall leave your spirit to wonder,
This place, this sacred place, beneath a sky a blaze
I let you fly free and remember the day by the sea,
In an over cast haze
Barbara Guthrie©
copy right to author
Orhia Mountain Dreamer, My Poetic Mentor
You are wearing yourself out with all this searching.
Come home and rest.
How much longer can you live like this?
Your hungry spirit is gaunt, your heart stumbles. All this trying.
Give it up!
Let yourself be one of the God-mad,
faithful only to the beauty you are.
Let the Lover pull you to your feet and hold you close,
dancing even when fear urges you to sit this one out.
Remember- there is one word you are here to say with your whole being.
When it finds you, give your life to it. Don't be tight-lipped and stingy.
Spend yourself completely on the saying.
Be one word you choose in this poem we write together.
Oriah
ONCE UPON A SUMMER STORM
The wind was warm
Cantankerous comes, the storm
The wind is a frenzy of biting lightning
I stand naked against the heat
Upon the mountain over looking the creek
Arms I raise to the heavens, respectfully
To the storm Gods I speak
The creator is the power, the storm, the anger
Speaking to me with lightning tongue
So cleverly
The crescendo resounds
Black sky bright sky running lightning bolts
I hear the Wolf, he howls
Thunder crashes all about serving me a mighty jolt
With magnificent voice I silently spoke
Words spoken, profanity my token, the storm comes hither
He is a Player, a Knight, a Dragon Slayer,
He leaves me unable to speak, no more hunger to wonder
As I rise up off my knees
Within me he’s the furry, the storm to discover
The storm rescinds a mighty end
Unlike any quaking shaking superlative
Leaving me weak, vapor less
With nothing to,
Speak
Barbara Guthrie©
Copy Right to Author
August 24, 200
FOLLOW ME TO ANOTHER PLACE
Follow me to another place and time
A place of harmony 'midst wolf and his kind
As day ends and night begins to fall
Off in the distance, I hear my brother's call
A wolf spirit trapped in human skin
I long to run with my wolfen kin
As my brother's howl comes within range
'Neath the stars, my body begins to change
At last my body and spirit are one
Faster! Faster! My paws begin to run!
Without pause or looking back ...
I search to find my brother's pack!
Then I see my Celtic spirit sister there
Ah, my Cherokee sister with the raven hair
Off standing in the shadowy moon beams
Romping 'round the Craggy Mountain bend
There's my grandsons, "Brother's of the Wind"
Yes, all my wolf friends are gathered there!
Howling and running with paws flying on air
As clear and continuous as a mountain stream
We forever dream our Wolf-Dreamer's Dream
This is my wolf pack, my loyal family
Humans by day, at night, Wolf Spirits run free
Cherokee Warrior
Copy Right to Author
UNTIL WE ARE NO MORE
When you warp your warmth around me
When you play that song, you sing
My heart soars over mountain and land
An’ settles between your knees
When you hug me to you body
An’ our need canna’ be ceased
You are mine forever more to please
An' please, an' please, an' please
When I seat myself upon the back
An’ I cling to you as one
My heart will rests at peace
Until our ride is done
An’ when our time is finished,
An’ we are dust of this earth once more
Our souls will soar forever more
Until we are no more ©
Barbara Guthrie, Author
May 30th, 2008
TEMPLERS WOMAN
In the furthest corner of my soul
In the darkness of the forest overgrown
The Templer restores a soul so torn
A second chance is all I ask, just one more day
One more day to ride with you is all I bequeath
Lay your weary head on my big old brass bed
My heart it bleeds, drips devotion to nourish your need
Templer’s leather jacket hangs the post of my bed
A reminder he once laid his head upon my spread
Leaving a memory, oh what a memory he did leave
To touch the furthest corner of my soul
In the forest overgrown, where stands my home
The purity of a time once spent lingers in my mind
An’ the Templer, oh yes the Templer, restores my soul
He cums the storm from the sea, ferocious he dances
Ah yes, he dose dance in me, like the storm at sea
His bike, he calls Storm howls loud furious pipes
As we ride the road hidden the forest overgrown
On the morrow, after a night the Templer did stay
On the back of my chair by the firelight that glows
A black leather jacket he left with a note
Have this on when I return, be ready to ride
As I look a closer look, I see the back
Embroidered his colors for all to read,
Templer’s woman rides the Storm
Barbara Guthrie ©
Copy Right To Author
June 2008
THE WARRIOR
Silently he touched my face
Searching for what he did not know
The hidden fear, the hiding place
The warrior stood the edge of the sea
Contemplating what to do with me
An’ I the woman, watched the uncertainty
The conflict with in like a storm at sea
Churned and snarled unsettling me
Until the warrior spoke so eloquently
Vanilla Woman come ride with me
Wear my mark, he said touching me
Here, where only I will see
To the depths I go for the knowledge I know
Searching, unresolved, unspoken fears
At your feet, I leave my tears
I know you, the warrior who stands before me
You must guide and protect me for eternity
Honor and respect your pledge to me
The creed of this warrior honor bound to me
Vanilla Women disappears in the mist from the sea
With the mark of the warrior, two ride free
Barbara Faulkner Guthrie
June 19, 2006
Copy Right attached to the book Vanilla Woman ©
Copy Right to Author ©
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Favorite Music:
Cherokee Nation...haunting
If you want to know the mix of music I like your welcome to listen to mine here, still adding music as I find it,
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Favorite TV Shows:
Not much time for TV but I always make tiume for Fox News,
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Favorite Movies:
comedies, passion and fast moving who done it mystery thrillers
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Favorite Books:
I would have to say, Earnest Himmingway,Old Man and The Sea,
Fairwell To Arms, William Faulkner's Cat On A Hot Tin Roof,
So many great writers.
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Favorite Quotes:
Don't be tryin to cork my bottle,
Every event in our life, every deed we do,
every thought we have weaves a thread into
a tapestry we are fated to follow!
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About Me:
I love to ride, hate being left behind. I will search the hidden places in your soul to know the man you are
if you mean that much to me, if not I won't bother with you!
I am of the old skool ways, honor and respect are an everyday part of my life. It took years to
understand respect starts with self first.
I am loyal as the day is long to the man I call partner and expect same in return.
I love riding the road behind my man, NASCAR, fast cars, old cars and show cars.
Football, Chicao Bears, Chicago Cubs, Hockey, Blackhawks and Chicago Wolves A team. A is for awesome!
I am a very sweet affectionate woman, loyal
considerate and respecful always up for a challenge and I seem to be getting
them lately (:
Riding the road is about the brotherhood,
if your old skool you will understand
the fist in the air,
or my hand down pointing to the road
is respect for you!
Y'all ride safe, be proud!
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Harleysweetseat's Friends |
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