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.
When I was a boy of only eight Not knowing the meaning Of the word 'segregate' My father decided to take me with him On a plane where he promised A 3-D movie and a fishing voyage on a boat Little did I think of lessons to be learned In the unfolding of this anecdote I tag this memory to the newspaper headlines The day that Clark Gable died My father explained this man was Until I was satisfied There was a lay over in the city of Atlanta I watched the planes go by in the air Listening to announcements Watching people go by quickly As a boy I became slowly aware When asking my father if I could go to the bathroom He instructed me to return Little did I know what would be ahead Or of what I was about to learn As I approached the door I was stopped By an old grey haired black man coming out He discouraged my entrance through that door Then I began to question why with a pout My father seeing the situation Quickly came to my side Questioning the man about the problem With tears in his eyes he replied He doesn't know the difference Pointing to the sign on the door It read "Colored Men" with letters wide My father directed me to the other place Where I was supposed to be After returning to his side I could clearly see My father was trying to console the man Assuring him that someday he would be free ~ This man wore a white shirt with suspenders I wish I had learned his name I remember looking up at him in his pain Tears in his eyes in his withered tired frame My father parted with sadness The man continued to cry My father explained about dignity As I watched the planes in the sky Reminding me to remember the color of his skin Made no difference-he was just a man That he still had a heart within We continued our trip to Miami But I thought of the man and his tears I still think of him to this very day After almost fifty years ~ We went on the boat I got seasick We went to the 3-D movie I caught a cold From the newfangled air conditioning That had just been invented The 3-D glasses gave me a headache We left the movie before it had finished I left Miami totally dissapointed Then after many years I realized The purpose of the trip to Miami Was that image burned into my mind Of the man in Atlanta who was crying Thereby I was able to find The true course of my heart I will never forget the lesson taught Human dignity belongs to everyone It is something that needs not to be bought From the lowest creature To the tallest human In those famous words Let freedom ring It is the melody I learned as a boy Of eight years old The song I continue to sing
My body is my shell This is the child Who lives within the shell Devoid of any emotions Surviving in my own hell Dependent on others Like a store bought doll My eyes only open on command My heart stolen in the tender years Buried deep in the sand Muffled sounds of the ocean Seashells move over my grave Perhaps I will be discovered some day In the breaking of the ocean wave Longing to hear the voice of the gulls The crashing of waves Salt water foam upon the shores The shining sun that saves Sweet warmth will shower me It will heal my tender heart Though there be scars that will always remain My soul will never depart I will once again be free to grow To catch my dreams upon the flow My life will be back in my own hands Where I will endeavor to see distant lands
This is the voice that will never be heard In flights way are those fleeting feet I shall never hear them upon the floor It is a face that I will never adore It is held in a palm of the hand Of what it is and never was The quenching of a spark In the flicker before the flame A sight seen but never meant to be I have many tears for you On this day and many days after When I look up at the sun It will be dull to me The moon will never shine Of all the many stars that sparkle None will ever gain my notice Muddy colored clouds are upon me forever It is a loss that will never be gained I throw myself upon the ground Sending woes up to the deafness of the sky Deprivation of your presence Causes me to choke on my own salivas The deep wound upon my own heart vexes me so I long to hear the hearbeat that was meant to be Raising my hands up high in my cries I mourn the loss placed upon me In your life that shall never be
With factory precision The kiln glowed Smoke billowed from the stacks Down below fires raged Being fed by human slaves Engaging in the act Involuntary servitude demanded Lest they become victims To the unforgiving ovens There they watched a race destroyed Despising their captors In the space of a dark void Hearing the feet on their way to the chambers The chambers of death Where their cries went unheard Upon many deaf ears Soon they would become silent In the ending of their fears In the chambers of death The last final gasping breath Before their bones were baked In the ovens Their ashes spread Mingled together forever In a place where only evil remains Eventually returning to the earth In death defying blessed rains Scattered they may be Remembered so that they remain free In their sacrifice and pain Blessed be the death defying rain
When my sister was born I used to watch her Sleeping alone in her crib The mobile danced about in the sunlight Packed away in the attic I still have her baby bib It has a yellow chicken embroidered That runs towards a house and the sun I've often wondered why I have kept it Since her life had begun My mother let me feel her kicking Deep in her belly she stirred It was an emotional shock to me I imagined her as the Thunderbird To know that a life was thriving inside Many nights I laid awake in thought A work had been done to bring this forth A miracle that had been wrought In the later times I looked at her feet Remembering the way she had kicked To the effect it had worked something in me My heart had been slightly pricked Thereafter was this odd connection The memory of something that came From the belly of my long gone mother The connection to which I must claim
