This blog was created for others who will hopefully glean something from the words I have written.Not much to say except I ran off from an orphanage when I was 13 years old.Hopped on a freight train and joined the circus.Have been wandering ever since.I am grateful to be alive and my only desire is to leave something here for others to gain from.If I can accomplish that then I have successfully reached my intended goal.All we have left in the end is our legacy.
Acutely aware of the shadow Quickly making haste Cruel kindness of its memory Haunting but caressing me so Allowing it to touch me My sighted blindness Apparent in its evasion Allusions of love But I am not quite sure Its delusion is an allegory The eidolon blunders in chaos My desire to capture her lonliness Is a fallacy well known Her heart belongs to loving kindess I have no right to claim for my own The verity of my situation The shadow within the recess Of the alcove in my mind Merely the shadow upon the wall Secluded in its own safety In rememberance of this I keep my visions to myself as my own
A man brought me coffee Early this morning Also a muffin to eat Hunger pangs overcame me Last night I heard my stomach growl Shadows on the brick wall Began to scowl They danced all evening on my brain Refusing to refrain Their behavior despicable Moreso than the people on the street Most have been kind I have come to find Knowing that I am blind Has probably helped in many ways Oh I was offered shelter many times Trouble is I feel confined Not the way I want to die as well I'll trade the comfort of a soft bed any day For the crisp sound in the street The loud bell that sounds in my mouth People hear it who know me Strangers hear it for what its worth In this world of mirth In the mire of the amusement Their contemtible behavior is acceptable What-without them I would never know Where the battle lines are drawn Between good and evil Thankfully there is more good born Which greets me every morn Its boundaries unfold into my darkness Carrying me farther than I ever dreamed
Thinking about me? I am under your shoe as we speak When I leave this world do not look for me I will be there in the dust; If you must Try not to think of me When you are at the rivers edge I am there as well Along with your forebearers In the streets of Bombay On top of the head of the Sacred Cow When its tail swats at the flies You will well remember me I am the fly who always gets away The others who have fallen Are novices at what I do
Sweet eyes of my father In my own eyes I can see The vision of the ancient Cherokees. Sweet sacred inspiration That he passes on down to me, Heartbeat of the gentle Cherokee. And I heard him say... That's just the way love is When love is bliss.
And we will walk the mighty circle Double cross the hands of time. Laugh and we'll cry as egos die Until we get to the other side Put on our wings and fly.
The soul of sweet forgiveness Walks his path with dignity. With the wisdom of The ancient living Cherokee I come from his deep water As much like him as I can be. And I carry to my own children The promise of the Cherokee. And I heard him pray... That everywhere God is Let freedom live.
And we will walk that sacred circle Double cross the hands of time As nations die and hearts unite Til we get to the other side Put on our wings and fly ~ Song of Monolah Sing of Mother earth Let every man live free Let every voice be heard Let every child be born Knowing the way.
And we will walk that sacred circle Join our hands across all time. Living in peace we believe We're gonna get to the other side. We're going to put on our wings and fly When we get to the other side. Join our voices across the sky Til we get to the other side.
We're gonna wear our Cherokee pride When we get to the other side. We're gonna leave this world behind When we get to the other side. We're going to put on our wings and fly When we get to the other side. Join our voices across the sky Til we get to the other side. We're gonna wear our Cherokee pride Til we get to the other side.
We're gonna leave this world behind When we get to the other side. We're going to put on our wings and fly When we get to the other side. Join our voices across the sky Til we get to the other side. We're gonna wear our Cherokee pride Til we get to the other side.
Rotting meat has its advantages
Unless it is liver
In the orphanage where I grew up
Liver was not consumed by the chosen few
In its raw form it became to some
Within the precipice of the mattress
Soon thereafter flies would lay their eggs
Forming maggots upon the floor
Protesting voices like Portnoy's Complaint
Not I the culprits exclaim emphatically
As for myself my preoccupation was tobacco
Camel cigarettes had alot of meaning to me
But still I knew about the rotting smell
Meat upon meat in the middle of the night
To the sound of the springs that squeak
Clanging radiators drown out their sound
In the wintertime when it is cold
I am bitter with resentment
Warm weather silences the radiators
And the smell of ejaculation is upon my nostrils
Once again-
Institutional tiles on the floor
No longer reminders of the chess board
It is the place where maggots congregate
When flies seek out the smell of rotten meat
There I sit upon the sill in my room
Looking out into summer time
Waiting for winters gloom
I walk away from the vortex of delerium
Leaving those behind who walk into the spiral of light
I am a shadow who observes from a distance
Amidst the souls who clamber towards the top
Like insects who are drawn into the light
Shadows at play can only touch Memories observed in the mind Remaining long after their presence Wherein they may hope to find Similar shadows to make acquaintance Brief encounters seem to imbue Upon my bench I search for them Blending in as I do On my bench a squirrel visits me Is he trying to get into my head I think not his interests are simple He wants a piece of my bread Little does he know it is already his His curiosity makes my heart leap Momentarily his company is noted Along with the shadows I will keep Two lovers kiss on the hopscotch sidewalk Small tornado like winds kick up Leaves with debri around them Spinning randomly as if to say We are glad to see you here today And what of the man who sits on the bench He is entertaining an aging squirrel Might we come closer a bit To give them an extra twirl Yet we are in attendance of these shadows Here we will remain for our time We are the narrators of gestures In mocking shadows that mime
I got the mainstreet hobo blues Down there in the leaves that blow Upon my bench once again In that place that only I know I'm down on my knees Almost to the point of the Madman's blues Having overpaid my dues Serves me right to suffer On the big road going Paychecks small in between Walked all night long Into the rain that is now gone Trying to find the light Its alright though-its alright Been down on my knees and my luck before Comes with the territory I aint goin' down the road by myself Got what's inside of me The clothes on my back I'm soon headed for the railroad track Talkin' to myself Tryin' to find somebody else Someone named me That's why I'm talkin' to myself I walked-I talked to who else could it be My dimples are cute but I'm face to face With nobody else but me My name is wanton wanderer Lovin' things in my own way I love to see the people walk Children who play in the park Dogs who bark I've seen the devil in the dark Down on my knees Sitting on another one of my benches Down in the lonely park A rolling stone gathers no moss I aint got no boss Just me
From whence it came It now returns Silent in its journey As it has always been Everything that occured Still within its intellect Now lost to the ages Signifying another birth It leaves behind a legacy The only portion to signal That it was ever there Weepings upon the earth Mourn not It's loss Still walking near the cool streams In the meadows and in the dew The nervous hare is calmed Quietly it basks in the sun Unaware that it has company It resides next to him Silently observing the way he breathes He is safe and alone But so is that secret presence It is allowed to look even closer This is the great reward that awaits
Death's peace no longer evades me Men shall look upon me for the last time Before my decay repels them I was last touched before my lovers demise Desire no longer within me A blackened sun offered no solace to me Cold Ivy in my garden crawled on my skin Its vines choke my heart Stealing my breath that I bestowed Upon my lovers ear This morning when I woke; The song of the bird was cherished For the last time it graced my ear It's voice called out to me A single tear formed in my eye But there it remained Unable to venture any further on its own Those things that are within me Unable to go forth any longer My last sight as it faded from me Was the sweet light of the sun It turned back to light No longer blackened and able It brings me solace and the ivy does not crawl Once again I dream of my breath Upon my lovers ear As I kiss his locks of hair that are Within my entwined fingers Laying there silently watching him sleep
Blood stained corner of the walls The jackpot rabbit verily falls Urban legends fail to amuse This addict of carrots dies well Now he knows the difference Between the fields of hell My jazz listening pet rats Know what the beat is about They click their fingers Tap to the music Unable to protest or shout They eat their fill Not willing to risk Their guts being blown Against the wall Like the martyred hare Sweet jazz rolls from the radio Into their ears and out to the street Where innocent souls meet As they bear witness To the fallen hero of urban legends
His hatred of love His love of hatred Caused the words to flee Gingerly they remained Sensing his quaint understanding This failed poet became obsolete His muse now within himself The tombstones behind him Observe what entails his mind Slanted views of surroundings Imperiled within that whirlpool Its visible mass of fire and flame The cirque envelops him As the steel walled glaciation Within its bowl the water at the base Slowly drowns him Yet his twitching fingers will not Reach out for help He dies within the meanings Ecclesiastes envelops him Ants will feast upon his eyes The energy escapes his brain Unborn words float worthless In the sea of inebriation His gift to the world is folded Placed neatly in its place Foundering in the deep waters It is sunken treasure Waiting for reclaim to those who seek it Search for the dead man's chest
The corridors are quiet Footsteps cease upon the carpet The hare dons his gloves in silence Preparing to take on the feline As it observes the mad rabbit Spectators have been milling around In the museum all day Now there are only the guards Who momentarily interupt See my shadow upon the wall He states to his feline friend The artist who carved out your image Never thought of any of this Let us shadow box in the moonlight We shall get our exersize in spite of them We will talk throughout the night Staring at eachother by day When we have disagreements We shadow box Even if we dont have disagreements We shadow box We wag our tails at eachother a bit Then lay down and take a nap together This makes it all worthwhile Keeping the secrets we share
I emerge from the dark forest Not wanting to wear out my welcome This is done while the world slumbers The odds are if played by the numbers Nobody will notice my presence When I sit upon my wall The ladder is concealed Otherwise it would be gone Since I am no climber of sorts Scaling my own wall would be a task One that might not play itself out Safety is the first concern It is not the fall from the wall It is in my journey from the darkness Into the light Anonimity must be maintained Blending in with my surroundings Remaining invisible Inaccessibility and mum are the words If I am not quiet I will be discovered Human obstacles will be placed in my way Chaos and drama will impose upon me Preventing me from my purpose Once deprived there is no way to regain I have been stopped now And must focus on the pain Those who wish to assist Must first learn to let the wind pass freely Once they learn how not to touch Possibilities abound From below on the ground Until then you cannot see me In am invisible upon my wall Until I decide to journey from light Back into the forest of darkness for a spell If you miss me then It will be until the next time I journey Once again from the inner sanctum of the forest To once again sit upon my wall
The fountain of love With its water flow My hands folded into my lap I have come to know The many people who walk by Mothers with children Grandmothers who cry Drunkards,policemen Dogs on a walk Buses go by,kids who use chalk Drawing a hopscotch pattern They play in the park ~ Today I met a lady who binds old books I imagined her clearing away the dust From what thought did the author begin What did they go through to get to the flow These are things I would never know Who had picked up this book and read Chances are they were all dead Being as the book was 80 years old ~ The young lady of fair complexion Looked off in the general direction Observing the people at the fountain She seemed beside herself Like she was upon a floral mountain Then turning to me in my silence She explained I fix the bindings of books Resurecting authors Their words are all that has remained Of that spark of life within them That once lived in its role Reviving them is like observing A part of their giving soul A forgotten book in decay Is like watching life ebb away ~ I was glad I had come to the park The sound of the water at the fountain The laughter of children in the distance A chance meeting with someone Who had given me Words of wisdom to take home Where I could place them upon my mantle Returning to those thoughts On cold lonely evenings When all is silent Old books revived bring forth new vision In a fountain that never knows of droughts
