Frank Davis
In 1986 Frank Davis wrote his first poem. His thoughts were of our attitudes toward the Indians and how we infringed on their territories and lives. Most movies depict the Indian as bad and we were led to believe they were our enemies. Reading more realistic books gave him a different view. In many instances the Indians were friendly and helped pioneers in stress.
In two of his poems he brings out his own version of their real struggles of the invasion of the white man, to be out numbered and controlled in a no-win situation.
Then his thoughts of his childhood and memories of growing up, his slant on life and visions in a folklore atmosphere. His love and feelings of life and mother nature, to read his poetry will acquaint us with the Inner person and will remind us of ourselves in many ways.
His first twenty poems were recorded and a friend listened to that first tape and exclaimed, 'Frank, it's just like being there,' hence the name Just Like Being There.
In 1993 he married his best friend and was inspired to try writing lyrics to show his true colors to her. She is his biggest fan and finally someone to add rhythm to his life. Maybe some time in the future, one or two of his lyrics will be put to music.
BEAUTY BETWEEN THE EARS
When looking for a soul mate
To share the waning years
Dont over look the beauty
The beauty between the ears
They may be cute and sexy
Competing with their peers
Dont over look the beauty
The beauty between the ears
I finally found my soul mate
Over came my mental fears
I really saw beauty
The beauty between the ears
To find the Inner beauty
One goes by what he hears
You've got to hear the beauty
The beauty between the ears
I MAY LOOK LIKE A COWPOKE
When you see me in the city
You never know for sure
I may look like a cowpoke
But my boots show no manure
I won't be wearing a gun belt
On my shoulder you won't find a chip
I may look like a cowpoke
But no pearl handle's to grip
I wear a bolo and a western hat
Decked out in western shirt and jean's
You may think I'm a cowpoke
Cause there are no in betweens
My western boot's aren't pointed
And a horse I've never sat
I couldn't find the stirrup
A saddle don't fit my pratt
I'm just a plain ole mountain man
I love my western life
Hiking trails and a mountain stream
And sharing with my wife
When you see me in the city
You never know for sure
I may look like a cowpoke
But my boots show no manure
