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.
Precognition is imbibed in the magpie He patiently in silence awaits On occassion the killing of a sparrow In submission to the order of fates A magpie knows how to heal their wounds Unto the mending of broken wings Mocking the calls of the other species In every melody it sings It treads on unfamiliar paths Knowing the ways of survival It senses the coming of impending storms Taking shelter before its arrival Its implementation of time as a tool The magpie is far from being a fool Able to see far beyond the horizon Its home is where it desires Survival is the name of the game In all that the magpie acquires A magpie trusts no one not even its own Blood of blood-bone of bone Crows and ravens approach with care The watchful magpie allows them to pass In flight he travels to his secret place Where no other may ever trespass In his mind he is solid in all ways Content to be free til the ending of its days He sits yonder upon his own branch Out of harms way in the light of the day He is a sentinel unto his ownself
There is nothing left of my hands anymore The bones have been broken to powder Fingers that are twisted into ugliness Memories of stale corn chowder I stare out my window at the ferris wheel A skeleton of something that was The institutional styled windows filtering in sunlight In a way that light in trickery does While the general crowd marches to the tune There are but a few who choose a different path In rebellion standing in the gap The regular crowds sense our rath The broken boned hands are looked upon It is but a badge worn out of reluctant disgust When all the crows are made to fall into line The magpie does not trust It is upon the roof on its own Mending its broken bone Planning its departure when it heals Not caring what the rest of the flock feels Let them fall in line and love disgrace They have let those demons enter in through the back door It will follow them down the road for years Until the hauntings from days of yore Particles of dust that float in the air To the great halls in the dormitory of fears Soon comes the days of the ending of ways And no more shall you see the endless tears Of the innocent lambs taken to the slaughter Wherefore they are used as meat To fill the stomachs of a stench filled room A bloody act in endless repeat I am going down the road away from it all My bones have been broken beyond repair My heart has been smashed-my mind raped But I am not in despair That ferris wheel has given me hope I shall seek it out in the hail and the rain The death wish is replaced in my escape As I hop on the railroad train
Another day under the sun I'm on my way again Grab ahold of the boxcar rungs I hear the sound of the solitare wren It sings to me each time I go I hear it on the train Rumbling over the rails listening To the patter on the rooftop of rain The sun is about four o'clock on high By noon tommorow I'll be Somewhere in the state of Wyoming Sleeping under a tree The night will come and I will make fire Perhaps an old dog will pass my way Together we'll eat some venison jerky And enjoy the warmth of the coals in decay Then a few logs more on the dying fire As I stare into the fire with my gaze My old friend the stray dog asleep I think of the latter days Of riding the rails with familiar friends To the next place where the carnivals exsist Another day-another way Where time is never missed It rolls on like the railroad train All the faces are fixed in my mind And I am inclined to leave behind The discarded memories that someone will find Written words on paper made on a whim Or written upon the boxcar walls A good tasting cigarette is upon my lips As I listen to the distant calls
Spectrums of color intensely present In the prism of a vortex in the dream I see the world in black and white Through the eyes of the Sephardim Their interloping ways are reality That live in the first Five Books The world is Midrash-food for thought Diversity exsists between Millionaires and common crooks Though both come from the same mold One stands in the corner while the other is bold ~ Faces upon faces are in wireframe Every town starts to look the same Markers on roads from the year before The hungry dog beckons at your side He is frail compared to the toys on the shelf There he sits with eyes opened wide Somehow he knows that you will take him Down the road that is ahead For this town will soon be an after thought Just another place on a map that is dead It's a one shot deal and I never look back I don't care about any feedback I work from my pocket and hustle in the street To hear the pounding of the many feet The faces look all the same Some are wild-some are tame Some are sad and in despair Some are looking for a way to deter Islands of happiness mixed into the mist Refusal to accept that they do exsist Step right up and see what you get I've just traveled two thousand miles From down in New Orleans I came up I'm a gypsy man who reconciles I am one with the road that goes Nothing can stop me-not even woes Of the many who want to feel the juice The electricty that emanates in the light Standing in the street and feeling the beat Knowing that everything will be alright Just like the dog who sleeps at my feet His belly is full in his slumber He already knows his place in the action All are assigned a number It might be old Route 66 Or highway 41 No question about star crossed roads Until we are completely done At the many cross roads where I see the faces Eyes that probe me so deep I have so many miles yet to go And so many promises that I must keep
Just one more mile for me to go I'm so tired I just want to rest Sure wish someone would come by To help me get abreast There is a camp just over the hill Where they have what I need I'll just rest here for awhile I sure hope I succeed To have a fate like many others Who lost their mothers My village is gone-all are sleeping In the ground that is keeping No more smiles from my brothers No more laughter from my sisters No more singing from my mother My father died long ago Nobody else that I know To help me in my journey I must do this on my own I have not eaten in many days I will just rest here and sleep awhile And dream of railways That will carry me to lands Where plentiful things abound I want to laugh and play again And escape this cursed ground It is lonely-I am scared But I will sleep awhile When the sun goes down a bit I'll finish this my crooked mile ~ Sleep keeps me from feeling the hunger pangs;
