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.
A tree that poses nakedly Bending in the wind Even though it stands in silence To the utterances of chagrin Observance of its many leaves Shimmering in the sun Each leaf moves in its own way As it has always done Some leaves sit in silence As though in contemplation Others dance in the wind For that is their salvation No leaf is regarded For the movement of its pose Reaching out and touching In the only way it knows Seasons pass by swiftly Giving way unto winds To dust upon the ground Yet no leaf has ever sinned
Jane Doe was what I named her She was saved from sudden death Discarded from a moving car As nature held its breath In the cold rain Along that lonely road She slept the forty miles Until I got her home Now she sleeps in my palm All her worries gone Upon my pillow she will rest Slumbering safely from dusk to dawn
She has a song within her heart Down such trodden paths she goes Through villages in their silence Until her voice is heard In likeness to the softness Of the gentle warbling bird Each one returns unto its nest But only long enough to rest For it has much work to be done Its song which must be sung Lifting up the spirits Who hear the gentle song Where two hearts have met In such happiness After wandering in their search The sound once found Is only the beginning of the journey
It all began as a paper moon Sailing over a cloudless sea The world paused on its own axis As the music believed in me Each note struck lit a star Until the night was gone A vessel floats outside my window Waiting for the dawn Over horizons never seen Until the notes shall fade Once again it vanishes Amidst the melody played
Winding streets of layered passion It followed me down the path Demonic dragon of latter times When days were filled with wrath Burning desire lurked in the mire That ugly breath of molten fire Relentlessly in my shadow Angel of death with trumpet in hand From edges within the dark forest Invasion within dreams To and fro over the land Desolation upon the rooftops Unable to any longer hide Face to face with the dragon Stripped of human pride Wandering spirit that drove my soul Such cries of pain in the dark hole Emergence under guise of night No journey planned into the light The dragon hounds me Into streets where chaos awaits The monster licks at my heels It knows the hiding places Where it lurks till the fallen man kneels
Wherein lays the fear in such happiness Albeit the joy found in thine sorrow Thriving in streets of broken pavements Which nobody can ever borrow Day unto night Positives unto negatives Beholding to one another Each needs its opposite to exist Grumbling in the streets Of protesting mutter Its thickness produces chapters Events in each life Memories alive which still survive Through waves crashing that bring strife The girl with sclerosis who struggles To move her hand in a wave The man in the airport during segregation Who is now in his lonely grave Crossing over bridges that link In remembrance of lessons learned Yet the journey to the crossroads In such places that have been yearned Bridges that connect past with present Revealing the entire mind set Onwards it trudges over the bridges With no expressions of regret
Of all my hopes and all my dreams Written my songs for many years Seldom are they played by others Who have not felt my tears Down in the Quarter The energy is smooth The slow motion train Runs smooth in the groove ~ There is no place though Like the home place Near by the railroad tracks Where I can play To my sweetest friends To the sound of the clickety clacks
Welcome to Brooklyn Don't let the door Hit you where the sun won't shine We didn't invite you here in the first place We don't want to hear you whine Pay your parking tickets And any other fines We feel like putting on you If that's not enough We'll think of some others All we know is you owe Us our just due The city runs on everyone's misery Without it no feather in our cap Our reputation precedes us greatly We're the city that dishes out the crap Millions are spent convincing people To visit us because it's so fine Once we got you in our vice grip What is yours belongs to us so don't whine Spend your money then get the hell out There's millions more just like you Who will innocently visit our waiting jaws To pay us what we feel is due
On this bald hill the new year hones its edge. Faceless and pale as china The round sky goes on minding its business. Your absence is inconspicuous; Nobody can tell what I lack.
Gulls have threaded the river's mud bed back To this crest of grass. Inland, they argue, Settling and stirring like blown paper Or the hands of an invalid. The wan Sun manages to strike such tin glints
From the linked ponds that my eyes wince And brim; the city melts like sugar. A crocodile of small girls Knotting and stopping, ill-assorted, in blue uniforms, Opens to swallow me. I'm a stone, a stick,
One child drops a barrette of pink plastic; None of them seem to notice. Their shrill, gravelly gossip's funneled off. Now silence after silence offers itself. The wind stops my breath like a bandage.
Southward, over Kentish Town, an ashen smudge Swaddles roof and tree. It could be a snowfield or a cloudbank. I suppose it's pointless to think of you at all. Already your doll grip lets go.
The tumulus, even at noon, guards its black shadow: You know me less constant, Ghost of a leaf, ghost of a bird. I circle the writhen trees. I am too happy. These faithful dark-boughed cypresses
Brood, rooted in their heaped losses. Your cry fades like the cry of a gnat. I lose sight of you on your blind journey, While the heath grass glitters and the spindling rivulets Unspool and spend themselves. My mind runs with them,
Pooling in heel-prints, fumbling pebble and stem. The day empties its images Like a cup or a room. The moon's crook whitens, Thin as the skin seaming a scar. Now, on the nursery wall,
The blue night plants, the little pale blue hill In your sister's birthday picture start to glow. The orange pompons, the Egyptian papyrus Light up. Each rabbit-eared Blue shrub behind the glass
Exhales an indigo nimbus, A sort of cellophane balloon. The old dregs, the old difficulties take me to wife. Gulls stiffen to their chill vigil in the drafty half-light; I enter the lit house.
A magpie sits upon the railing Watching a smattering of crows Howling in the midst In the fog upon the ship An ocean engulfs it With loneliness in the dream Odd as this all may seem In the journey Of never ending chapters In life that approaches Heavy hearts Cautious ways My folding hands await Accepting what comes forth It is the journey of a lifetime Upon the moving ship Trudging onwards in this ocean Such thoughts overwhelm In greater numbers than plankton Much farther than what is seen
Many times misunderstanding Conversation was sought Looking past searching eyes Into a gray horizon With no after thought Contemplating the dead silence In the aftermath of passion Holding out my hands Not able to catch the pain With an open heart searching In a place that can't contain What is it about thine eyes That search the abyss so deeply
This memento within my hands Which sustains me in my cage Self inflicted wounds Upon my heart in rage Inner convulsion Conceived revulsion A barrier which divides Within the realm of creation In which my rage abides Inner wall of sanctum Upon such floors In dingy lit corridors I yield to the animal that calls Yet this small token remains Behind such broken dreams Of these self constructed walls
Envious fog in the bayou gazes Curling feathers caress the air Pursuing imagined foes While fleeing unseen ghosts A never ending journey Under star lit skies Its call which echoes wildly Defying the rising moon Into the glare of its lonely eye
I hurt myself today to see if I still feel I focus on the pain the only thing that's real the needle tears a hole the old familiar sting try to kill it all away but I remember everything what have I become? my sweetest friend everyone I know goes away in the end and you could have it all my empire of dirt
I will let you down I will make you hurt
I wear this crown of thorns upon my liar's chair full of broken thoughts I cannot repair beneath the stains of time the feelings disappear you are someone else I am still right here
what have I become? my sweetest friend everyone I know goes away in the end and you could have it all my empire of dirt
I will let you down I will make you hurt
if I could start again a million miles away I would keep myself I would find a way
Abandoned farms Such places decay in the silence Feint cries of the starving fox Piercing arrows that fall Amongst the tall pines Under jealous skies peering Far from the asphalt jungles Corrugated doors of steel Once locked down Are as closed eyes slumbering Condensation upon the concrete Serve as the artificial tears Banging within the hollows As if to represent thunder in some way Only magnifies the madness I am sure the skies there are just as blue The sun is just as bright The stars and moon shine as always But I am the wandering man Returning to the abandoned place Yet it calls out in the still night The rhythmic tantrum of tires upon the road Painted lines upon the road pass by quickly In the night Its keen pull upon my heart strings As though it were a tugging of the reins upon a steed So is the hart upon the grassy plains Whose desire to return to the safety of its den Just one single tear falls upon my cheek As I fight back the tremendous flow From within They are not tears of sadness Bur rather in anticipation of the spark Which ignites the flicker within the flame
