James Walter Orr
A Biography of James Orr for “Third Book from the Sun”
James Walter Orr was born in Amarillo, Texas, in 1930, in the fabled dust bowl days. He grew up on a farm and ranch. He has also written under the pen-name of Easy Seeker and ezseeker. He has been a husband and hobo, laborer and engineer, cowboy and truck driver, rancher and roustabout, hod-carrier and concrete finisher, rod-wrencher and pulling unit operator, and everything that has touched any of the above. He has hooked up many a separator, heater-treater and flow line manifold.
He has been a collar-pecker on a screw pipeline, pulled skids on a big-inch line, cut paraffin, handled a pipe jack, used a lazy ... more »
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James Walter Orr Poems
Right Love, Wrong Time
You come to me because you say you need me. I come because I cannot stay away. You weep with me because our love was thwarted. I weep with you because you cannot stay.
The weasels run, a mighty herd Of charging little beasts. They're waiting on King Weasel To call them to their feast.
In ages past, when the evening star shone down from an azure sky, it carried warmth from the goddess of love: love shone from her twinkling eye.
Can I Reach You?
When I'm crushed between the debris of the cold, hard rocks of space and the end of time and I know I'll never be free
Shadows of Separation
SHADOWS OF SEPARATION I call to you across the miles, those empty miles which lie between
Deep and solemn tolls the midnight bell. The moon begins its slow descent, to sink, Behind the steeply rising western hills, And yet I lie in bed, awake, to think.
While waves of passion lap the shore, I plumb the depths of Eros' lake And drink it dry, and look for more: Oh God! , that this desire might slake
The Way Things Are
I have to this, I have to that; What makes me think I must? I cannot take the time to chat, Much less escape the thrust
Her gray head bows, and in the lamps dim glow, with steady hand she sticks the end of thread toward needles eye, but bushy, raveled end declines to go. She makes another try
Judge Her Jolly Jelly Jugs
An Autumn Night's Dream
My limbs are knotted, like an oak, that stands, devoid of leaves. I don’t envision or evoke, an image that deceives.
I Saw a Child
She stood on the sidewalk, to all whom passed oblivious to their glances, bumps and talk. That she was heart-broken was obvious.
Lorelei, Sweet Lorelei, Your siren’s song has stirred my soul. My armor’s cracked, My shield is gone. I’ve glimpsed the part: Now show the whole.
When the setting sun meets the western sea, And the things of day take repose, And the bees return to their honey hive And abandon the last sweet rose;
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
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Edgar Allan Poe
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Right Love, Wrong Time
You come to me because you say you need me.
I come because I cannot stay away.
You weep with me because our love was thwarted.
I weep with you because you cannot stay.
You say with me you can escape reality.
For me what's real is I die more each day.
Our thoughts are deep and life has so much meaning:
A life of pain that grows more so each day.
Sometimes we laugh because it seems so crazy.
Sometimes we cry because we know it's true.
The time was right, the place was wrong, but darling,
There'll never be another, only you.
Our dreams of love ...