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.
Peering at me from quaint corners in a room Little do they know or suspect What is concealed below the surface Careful of my thoughts in circumspect Most see me in bold upon first glance Eyes seem to fix on me in a room I wonder if they can hear my heart beating Or if they can sense my gloom The morning sun rises Songbirds are employed In latter days it was something I enjoyed When impressions did not make their mark I ran about happy as a lark As I got older and reminisced Realizing all that had been missed Though in possession of a beating heart I could not love as most do A sadness crept over me Lost in the longing Of a silent sea Observing others who knew How to love Knowing the joy of the morning dew The songs of birds were not just songs Imagining the language they tried to speak As the hart who desires to seek out his mate Along the side of a quiet creek It is something to know in discovery That which eludes me Slipping past my reaching fingers In a crowded room full of people Where odors persist and perfume linger A smiling lady glances over at me Her eyes filled with secret desire Slow burning coals persist inside Yet there is no raging fire The thought of touch repulses me For which I have no ready reply Inside I feel a thousand deaths Yet unable to cry Others have courage where I do not Outside appearances continue to elude What others think when they gaze at me From across such darkened rooms
In my nightly collection of insects Passing by your house In my silent world of clicks There is barely time to notice The incadescent moon On occassion you were observed Sitting on the porch Although the dog took notice You never knew I was there My appearance on swift wings Gives flight new meaning In the early morn We gather ourselves up To return to slumber Take notice if you want to You can even wave However I am not very friendly Since humans are all the same
My pillow named Oscar waits for me Each day he sits in the chair Looking forward to coming home To tell him of all I must bare New York City has many streets Crammed with people and cars Tuning them out is easy to do I fly quickly to the planet Mars The only thing that makes me return Is Oscar who sits in the chair To leave him there all alone Seems to be quite unfair It's kind of odd I prefer his company Rather than to mix with the herd Nonsensical conversations Clutter the subway Where silence is greatly preffered People of the street Acting out Malicious behavior Learned from their litter At home with Oscar in quiet peace With all of the trappings of glitter
It gently floats into the sky Until it can no longer be seen Inside is a message Sent to heaven Perhaps I will get a reply Like a message in a bottle It floats upon the vast spaces Until it reaches a place Where it was meant to be Of all this I cannot forsee But like casting bread Upon the water It will not come back void Reaching out Is much better than Keeping it all inside Only to wonder in the latter days When I laughed To keep from crying Such words might reach a lost soul Whose heart is slowly dying On a planet Where everyone is disconnected Indirectly those messages Might give cause To look upon such clouds With renewed vision Due to messages Sent to heaven
Echoes of voices From out of the past Through dense light In the midst of fog Children who played In such roles they portrayed In the distance can be heard The barking dog Through the laughter Mingled with dust It all becomes crystally clear Perfected in wrought Through time and thought Things I hold closely Which are very dear Horizons beyond never realized In fine detail-never disguised Patterns of energy Gently tugging at my mind That evasive flicker In my hopes to find Within the flame Which brightly burns Hiding amongst the flowers and ferns Inner desire to connect With voices of the past Momentarily passing by Which never seem to last In glimpses such things Are slowly revealed Forgotten dreams That remain concealed Briefly the curtain is lifted So I can peer in It is like the sweet sound Of a violin Examining the inner most Details of what occured The vision is clear Which was once obscured Upon such things to be pondered Into deep valleys And in other places that I have wandered
Cloaked in my shroud My heart is encased Beyond all hope of rainbows In clouded visions Where stars shall flee in haste There all things will be forgotten As it was at the end of time Upon reflection in my direction Continuation of my climb To a doorway at an entrance Procrastination forseen Of entering within On the other side Where all must abide Who enter therein
Many who look upon my face Only see my outer appearance Little do they know inside Of my perserverance Beauty has its place in life But little to do with what's inside Turmoil exists within In which I must abide In the vortex constantly spinning Of what's inside my heart Explanations are meaningless Or where to even start Looking upon my face But not within I remain estranged To my chagrin Within the beauty of my inner self
Lips have spoken many words But actions are another story What is said and what is meant Is almost allegory In words and motion I discretely hide ~ Buried deep beneath the wounds Demons still abide Those who spoke words of hope In essence had belied Hooks that sunk into my flesh In actions that imparted Kindness mistaken for weakness In flight my heart departed
Inspired by the lull of waves Written in the sand Although it fades The tides command Sandcastles which topple Upon the shore Like dreams that seem to fade Claimed by the ebbing waters From whence such dreams were made Nearby is the lighthouse Where heavens presence lives The sands of glory Taking my heart As quickly as it gives
Since birth I have looked off afar Over the shoulders of my siblings Beyond all supplement given Wondering what are my purposes Rules don't seem to apply Beyond the gaze of my eye An albatross living within The confines of my present existence Toleration of my surroundings Is about as good as it gets ~ Other gulls remain in groups While I remain aloof Quite content within my own spirit To look over the horizon Past the noise Trying to reach a place I know cannot be reached At least not on this plateau But still even knowing this I must go Rules are too confining Most of them make no sense This is the great predicament On the other side of the fence So here I remain around the docks Mostly on my own Not much changes except when I fly To places that have never been seen
Along the path of life Many mistakes are made Without their presence We could not celebrate Nor make music serenade To cherish good times Bad times must be Otherwise we could not see In likeness to a blackboard With which we use our chalk Erasing and starting over It's no crime to balk How many artists have painted Where exists an image below Still the masterpiece is seen From where it came to grow No one wants to falter Mistakes are inspiration Without them There is no motive for creation Those who have a vision Proceed forward without question Pursuing their beliefs As though their own possession Stumbling along the way Still the driving force Pursuing what we believe in Until the final course It's better to make your own mistakes Than not to try at all Succumbing to cessation Can be the worst of all
Encountering many in my travels Not limited to any one season Like minded others trying to survive All of them for the same reason To carry on for their own species Their own continue To prosper and live There is no greater bestowment That we can give Valuable days teaching lessons Taking good times with the bad The many seasons go by so quickly Until there is all that can be had We expire in due time Leaving a legacy behind To carry on for the sake of the species This is how life designed
Herman is sleeping in late today Last night he wanted To hang out and play He always sleeps with his teddy When it comes to bedtime He's always ready Herman is a spoiled guy But that's okay I'm glad to have him With me each day
It seems you always encounter a few These days it's probably More like quite alot I blame is on the parents Well not really I know plenty of good parents The fault is within the individual Somewhere along the line A decision is made Maybe they just decide It's easier to be like that It takes too much effort To be any other way Then society has to tolerate them Of course they have kids too Hopefully who recognize They don't want to be like that Then a decision is made Maybe they just decide It's easier to change and not be like that It takes too much effort To be any other way It doesn't matter anymore You know How many of them there are Compared to how many there aren't Only the ones who want to be that way Actually care The rest of the world doesn't give a damn They know it exists There isn't anything that can change it The world moves on Knowing in truth That as each one expires over time They are not missed After all there's plenty more Where they came from ~ I just feel sorry for him You know The ass in the hole Falling into that place Then having his photo taken Just so I could have it To use in my prose
I've gone to the crossroads many times Each one leads to the promised land It's carried me home to the prairies Deep down into the delta where life was grand To the trainyards where I hopped a freight Big City lights where the skyscrapers moaned Open skies where a heart never dies Where only the wind has groaned ~ Crossroads Present since childhood Others never ruled my day To believe or not believe Having to choose the way Not taking to the paved roads Going to the unmarked path To places unknown to most Not worried about The incurrence of wrath ~ I came to know the way Of the elephant and the owl In the streets of New Orleans All of the places The forgotten faces Things that occured Over time it all blurred But I remember People and their voices Their needs and their fears Pouring their hearts out As they wiped away tears The laughter at times To keep from crying Good times were to be had Our thoughts far from dying The roaring of the crowd I knew all to well Crossroads always within my reach To escape before hell ~ A little time passes Once they get too familiar It's time to move on Many roads to travel It calls to me in the distance Never a prayer spoken Asking it to depart Through the fog it's apparent Then it becomes crystal clear Another crossroad beckons Unmarked paths Leading to other promised lands Beyond those winding tracks The clattering of the wheels Pounding in the sounding The engine pulls its load Its horn plays the moaning melody Escape is just around the bend At the crossroads To which there is no end
When you were a child I already knew you existed Your voice had already Entered into my dreams It took me quite awhile But once found I knew you were the one Who had haunted me In my dreams All the miles in between Mere milestones along a path The bridge in my heart Gaps the distance As the moon rises in the sky To open the beauty of the night So rises my heart To the occasion of your presence The stars are like a crown In the heavens Shining down onto all that is beneath Evermore it is a sweetness unto me When I rise up to meet each day
I am the dove of lonely hearts Close by those who need me Ever since my early days Their hearts have called to me Each day I take flight To bring comfort Who need me by their side Whether it be beneath the sun Or under the stars and moon Gathering all the hearts that are scattered From every place they are strewn If you call upon me softly I will come
Once more faced With the winding in the tracks The familiar facial tic erupts Sending spasmodic waves To my inner senses There it is housed In gravure like synthesis Emotions abruptly appear Causing a delving into their abode Like the opening of a mausoleum Dust filled and forgotten Newly dug graves only remembered Until the generation passes Plucked flowers are meaningless They are better left to grow Passing on to others to maintain The purpose of why all things exist All efforts lead back to incongruity At the end of the journey Realization finally becomes all encompassing Variance against the origins of creation is inevitable It follows me down the winding tracks
He waits for me at the end of the hall Each day we meet on my way to work Past the hall where he hangs from his limb I don't mean to stare or lurk Down in the basement immersed in clay tablets Translating ancient cuneiform Although Akkadians are my main focus Thoughts are far from the norm Wandering off at times to my friend Encased in his cage of glass Wondering what his life was like Until I reach an impasse Imagination persists through the day My thoughts go home with me at night His life must have been a lonely one With nobody to acknowledge his plight How he must have longed for the place In the far off jungle land Free to roam the trees To see the open skies Beyond all he could understand Perhaps he found peace in knowing One day he would finally be free In a place where nothing could prevent him From sitting aloft his own tree
Down in the valley There is a grove Where centurions live Their roots planted deeply From long ago Boughs entangled with mystery If only they could speak ~ What would be the message Sent to the multitudes Many who are as deaf As they are blind Not meant for all to hear Small fractions are only meant To recieve the wisdom imparted If this were so Down in the valley Amidst the grove of trees ~ They are the seers Of the impending storm Inculcating through invocation Of the impression they leave For all to see Juggernauts standing Side by Side Battle scarred by the weather The merciless winds Bending their boughs and branches Safety can be found in their care For the trees are the silent friends Of all who come to them Their magnificence speaks A thousand words To those who listen quietly Down in the valley In the grove of trees
Herman the rat woke up from his nap Now he is up taking a sniff I think he hears me in the kitchen Chopping up a carrot for him He knows that later on He will get a slice of tomato Wednesday has always been Carrot and tomato day After his curiosity He will go back to his nap Herman brightens the day for me That is why Wednesday Is carrot and tomato day
I woke up this morning There was my father In his hand was a wooden spoon A tear came to my eye Thinking everyone had forgotten Yet here was my father Steadfast by my side Restoring my faith in life It has been long since we laughed Together we went fishing In the latter days We walked the path Of the crooked mile There upon his face Was his familiar smile Now I am no longer afraid With my father close to me Together we will once again Walk the path Out to the open sea
An angel mourns at our demise Forevermore eternal When new life begins beyond It is something vernal From the womb of life we go Unto the womb of death Beginning and ending In the moment of a breath Synchronism Transience in great velocity Is the occurence of intellect Existing in creation For the sake of Integration Briefly suspended in adversity It dissipates in cessation Without explanation Swiftly taking refuge beyond In the same manner in which it arrived For lack of physical presence An angel mourns eternally
I wait for you on the road In my dreams Wondering when you Might finally stop Each time you go by It makes me wonder Why you do not notice If sending flowers Could make you smile I would send them Yet somehow Your heart would never know It was me
The roaring is within As great waves surround me Inside my cocoon Yet the world remains Beyond reach Invisible forces resurrect me Within the waves My destiny awaits In crowds of thousands My presence remains aloof In the pattern of life Thoughts are kept distant In the safety of the wrappings Memories become my own Concealment is rather a habit Than an instinct Given over time Which has no relevance Beyond the confines of reality Time has no hold It can span the great distances That hold me to this life It is rather the distractions Keeping me from myself Words on paper seem to flow The answers evade me My questions are not answered Rather the words Are as beacons of light From aloft my place on high Where I guide lost ships in the night
Penetrating shafts of light invade The interior of my silent walls Where once song gave praise Congregations of those who sat In pews which are now heaps Upon my floors of wood No longer are voices heard My death came due At no suprise to the scattergood Feint recollections still echo All to no avail Long gone are the masters who spoke Even they could not prevail The chambers soon fell silent Giving way to particles of dust Gathering in the light Occasionally a bird becomes entangled In its flight The fluttering of the wings Calling out in desperation Of its momentary plight Escape comes soon enough Before silence once again Fills the deserted halls Of all that was done in vain
On such nights in deepest slumber In corridors of halls that haunt my dreams Such nightmares manifest themselves Like gargoyles that clatter up the walls Chasing after all that gleams In the shadows hiding are my fears Keeping back those cold hard tears In the distance the howling wolf Who has the scent of blood Upon his driven spirit He seeks me out under the moon Creeping through the silent streets Laying quiet in the ruins Might he hear the sound Of my heart which beats Deserted places within my mind Hiding in darkness-hoping to find That which was lost in days gone by When I was proud and could not cry The sound of his breath is upon me Escape is always near Past those dark and endless corridors Far away from what I fear
On terraces of buildings For the most part unnoticed Shrubbery flourishes Where exists the smog Geese fly overhead with caution As below is a swan in grace Upon the water she observes The coaxing of her cygnet Who follows in the purity Of the morning dew Not knowing which way to turn Directed by the wind In the swaying of the reeds Distant noises of children Once again; Playing in the park Gently she nudges Her protege In the warm days Upon the water calm Little do they notice Ripples by the shore Life goes by As one day is to another If words could be spoken There would be none to describe Serenity survives in silence In the whispers of the wind
