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.
In my dream was the Grasshopper Queen She seemed to read my thoughts I learned their ways looking through those eyes And spoke their language well How it felt to leap through grass They too had their own beliefs Introducing me to other species That hid below the leaves It was within the recurrence of my dreams When the strange teachings took place My mother and father looked on in disbelief When I told them of these things Exclaiming I had an active imagination With concerned looks upon their faces Thereafter I refrained My recurrences still continued From whence I was further trained It came to be in the humming of the tree In the flickering light of the sky Between leaves that touched me gently Hearing their lowly cry Realization of all creation Of the many things that exist Almost as if a great libation A belief I could not resist When my toys stopped talking to me Those dreams seemed to go as well Slowly the memories seemed to fade Until I had forgotten them as far as I could tell The images became faint ~ In my third year of college once again came The vision of the grasshopper queen She had not changed after all that time She was there to tell me what had not been told The remainder of what needed to be said This was to be her last appearance For she told me she would soon be dead Yet she had waited all those years Until the time had come What was imparted before she departed Was the rest of the total sum Emerging from that slumber my thoughts Life will never be the same It would be impossible to look at things Knowing full well the acclaim That all life is precious regardless Though we always assume Considering the things that nature brings From the universal womb
In the darkness I consider the universe Upon this trestleboard What finger reached out to ignite That spark of life's beginning ~ Cultures of trees that grow Tulips that lean towards the sun How many cries from those born From when this first begun Who determined the heterodox By which we chose our fate Imbibed with souls like newborn foals Both small as well as great Within the many paradoxes From creation in it's youth Contained knowledge in frontal lobes Surpassing all other truth In the expiration of everything Still the energy remains Nothing created escapes existence For we are in likeness to sand grains ~ Upon beaches; In the flow of the universe Creation is forever
Armageddon they said was upon us Each day swiftly crept by Nobody took heed to the warnings given Not even a reluctant sigh Thundering of the feet continued in the street As pollution overcame Stale air in the skies Bacteria ladened waters Syringes still in the sand Dropping from the hand That caused them to remain perpendicular The need to feed being more immense Than the ability to survive Poppy fields still thrive On this ledge I see the conglomeration In the traffic thickly below Thinking they will escape Into what? They do not see the terror in the sky It will send them into obliteration Falling short of any notion or goal All will burn slowly like embers of coal Including I as we all must die For the sake of a few who hide Deep in the mountains Gluttons who thrive on careful rations Endless movies at the taxpayers expense Yet they will see no sun through tinted windows For the blanket of smoke is dense My unrealized youth is before me Although I shall never see manhood The role models of the day seemed even lesser than I Alone upon this ledge there is peace of mind Reluctance to depart shall soon come to pass The terror in the sky draws me closer to the end Unto a place which I must ascend
This is how we spend our days With falling leaves of rusted colours Under the muddy white clouds Near the sounds of falling water Surely there is no need to expire With plenty of clover to fill our need Quiet days upon the grass Yet there is an ache in my bones I do not get up as quickly as before My appetite is not as great The inclination to rest is always with me So I take long naps by the waterfall Sleeping to the sound of rushing water Off in the distance are the mountains As evening comes upon us We sit there by the waters edges For some reason the motion Seems to bring me peace Soon we will slumber for the night Only to awaken to yet another day Under the muddy white clouds
As this child within me thrives All that is left of what survived The wound was mortal The damage was grave In cleansing waters That will not cleanse My heart was ripped but not my soul Somehow the sun seems to shine Yet it's brilliance seems dull When I look up into the clouds Or at the stars when night falls I seem to forget what it is that pains me Pink has always been my favorite color Finding a pink bunny for my comfort I know-is out of the question Still my imagination seems to keep me occupied It is only during the quiet times When traveling to my secret place In the place where safety resides Then again those quiet times When the wind is silent and the sky is strange Those hauntings come out of the past The ones-you know,that seem to strangle you The relentless pounding of those words I did not think of the manipulations My only hope was to somehow survive I am not a victim-I am a survivor The hauntings shall remain under my feet The secret place comforts me My ripped heart has scars,but it shall mend
