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.
My spirit lives within the roots Of this dying tree A hummingbird senses Touching what's left of me Essence of nectar within reach Yet my presence concerns What must beseech An inner calling Hidden in silence The gentle whispering That floats across the meadows Then upon flower petals Resting upon these wounded branches That have fallen to the ground Light halfheartedness that flutters Yet no tear is shed Or greater happiness found
On this vast plane of measureless intensity Where all flesh has sought out to be dust Blown away like traveling tumbleweeds The intellect remains intact somewhat Contemplation begins to set in Deep reflections within reach In the great expanse of time All earthly desire becomes extinct On other plateaus there remains A desire of connectivity With the upper energies That flow like rivers Over the hills of far away
Parallel platforms of rust On vertical walls that clutch Stench from laundry permeates Looking down on the street below Sirens crush the air Destruction of peace Only the deaf can survive Untouched by surroundings As the radio plays Vain attempts to squelch Sounds in the city There are no violent screams It is much more subtle than that Sirens blare Whatever their cause No moment is captured Where something is not alive Woe unto such places Where only the deaf can survive
Gentle rushing sweet breath Soft wind beneath my wings Transformation has brought this The cocoon withers upon the branch Shimmering as though It were saying farewell Soon it will crumble into dust As the new journey begins Fragrances of spring's aroma Flowers that sway in tandem Dalliance flourishes beneath skies Touching my newborn wings Distantly the whippoorwill sings Flaunting its plumage openly Living in dark forests of the countryside By its ways many will abide My wings flutter momentarily In this my season under the sun Until one day when I return My season will be done
There are no dark forests in my realm In places I go where no other has been In times when melancholy begins to set in Rather it is mistaken by others as sadness On my path to the place In my quiet heart Dried tears upon my pillow Mistaken for tears of pain When they are really tears of joy Still-it must all be concealed Behind my eyes which see Beyond the horizons of what others look at Yet they do no see me The noise in the streets evades me I am there but not really here Muddy colored clouds fill the grey skies Into my heart which denies All sadness from making its home In the travels within my mind Wherever I may roam
Through the fog A belltower rings In this city of silence A voice faintly sings Beneath the fog in the lull Energy stirs In heaven and hell Judgement is sustained In the countless monuments Built for those who impose Mourning not for their souls Only for the loss Of their physical presence Within the power they do not possess Better to pray for their souls Than to remember the last kiss
Regardless of where I may be In a city of lights Or a farm in the country Wandering aimlessly at night In untraveled paths Only familiar to me Other animals may come and go Aware of my presence in passing Yet they continue to graze Traveling in their ways Knowing there is no impending threat In my cloak under the guise of the night Moon shining bright Concealed in thoughts that take me To places where I must go In the unspoken languages That are often misunderstood Where words do not mingle with actions Actions that speak louder Than any tongue can begin The utter loneliness also brings solitude Which clasps onto peaceful melodies Into the ears of those who can hear it Traveling softly in the fields Seeking out those who desire Solitude that comes with loneliness After the stars have risen In a most forgiving way
Other than the sound of the train in the distance That rumbles along on the track Many times I've succumbed to its pull Never bothering to look back Endless hills that met with fields Miles of silent corn Grazing cattle looking on A scarecrow in the shadows forlorn Old farm homes that seem to know Paths of the wayfaring man Who wanders aimlessly over the prairies Like tumbleweeds upon flagstone That smolder in the sand This field of dreams over a horizon That never seems to end Along the old dirt trail and beyond Where a heart can slowly mend Flowers do not offend me Neither do the trees Quietly observing the rabbit in the distance Absorbing the slight of a breeze Timeless chapters in an open book Under skies of blue Dirt trails hidden in time In the midst of the morning dew
A thing of beauty which may exist Alongside the same of another Does not exalt in its difference Coexisting with the other Moon and stars Sun and sky Each sways in the wind Each shall live and die Side by side Their compliment is brief A season passes swiftly Yet it is not a thing of grief Their season has been spent In the winds of summer days One embracing the other In spite of different ways
By someone who thought Them to be flowers Their meaning meant more Than just mere weeds Given to me with innocence With no other reason in mind Having been taken to such places Nevertheless I find Staring up at silent walls Contemplating that which verily falls In truth my heart is absent From places that thrive within
On this dreary day I cry in the rain To help me forget The inner pain Upon these rooftops Engulfed in shadows Far from the scent Of flowers in meadows In my observance of these Nimble towers in concrete Domes of glass which Reflect in light It is dimmed by the rain Upon the solemn window pane From places within Where nobody peers out Into the street Where the struggle moves forward Amidst the sirens The complaint of trees Swaying in the wind Their branches seem to speak Yet nobody bothers to listen Upon my place I see it all An evasive sun refuses to glisten Amongst the commotion Delirium sets in quickly It can be seen in the pace Of those who walk the avenues Stumbling over the pathways That which seem to lead nowhere Except where it all begins and ends To this I say: Fluttering in this wind With these tired feathers I caress the air Touching the sky as far as I may go The wind shall moan Acknowledging my presence Giving way unto my wings
Faceless in the expanse of time Its extent is vast As my sphinx like form Thorns bruised me Deeply into the abyss Like plundering harpoons Seeking out fleshly desires Remaining embedded Refusing to succumb For in such despair There also remains hope From the place where I reside Those who may wonder Seeking out truth over desire Such purposes remain unrealized Great riddles flow Begging to be resolved
Each day comes with morning dew Emergence from the evening darkness Under crescent moons that labor Stars that glitter in eons of time In the ether of continual flux it thrives Yet the single crimson rose survives As the only thing of beauty In a world of monochrome Amidst multitudes of fauna That cannot answer back Unable to return such compliments From whence the horizon begins or ends Regardless of the crimson rose In messages it sends It stands in solitude momentarily In the flora which it offends
Although viewed in highest of esteem Greatly overshadowed Or so it would seem Found upon rungs in ladders Or lingering on stairways It very seldom speaks out Flaunting in the shadows at times Yet it seeks out the light Briefly as it may be The rays of the sun shine Upon such the stoic figure Encased in its own fashion Content to ride upon the wind Loosed by chains Which might otherwise Hold it from within
We found him on a mountaintop Many years ago Frozen in a block of ice Buried deep in snow We thawed him out Then gave him food Hoping he would change his mood He only grunted Then stared at us in silence ~ Soon it came time to leave We decided to take him along Giving him a name-Bruno Dressing him in a thong Next day came and we were home New York City here we come! Bruno looked at all those lights Smiling at everything ~ Next Sunday we took him to Times Square We gave him Rum to drink After five quarts he'd had enough Now he lays there on the sidewalk Barely does he wink Occasionally he grunts a bit Refusing to depart Onlookers go about their business As Bruno lays there on the sidewalk Oblivious as a fart
In dedication to her spirit To that which I have known Erected by these humble hands Unto her heart enthroned Upon a mast her garment In margins of silence Abstract in its many ways It flourishes in defiance To all that has ever been Or all that ever will The never ending throb within Of which will never fill In the heart of my hearts There is nothing more to say No tears except for joy Under skies of gray
Carried by gentle winds Dreams reach out in frolic Touching our hearts In ways only known to those That allow them in In likeness to the tumbleweed It rolls across the prairies Over haunted mesas With ferocity in its gallop Under the burning sun Its spirit coaxes the mind Inviting those who journey Over such horizons That flourish in the wind
Upon such spans of time Where leaps of faith require Unspoken words steeped in symbolism Bridges patiently wait For crossings into the abyss Beyond dunes of sand Other dimensions exist Where bliss transcends the present What is known and cherished Places where tears are shed no longer The silent voices Heaped into one place A solo journey Derived from secret wishes Unfulfilled dreams become null It is a place provided Where a searching soul Can find its rest
Nowadays I receive many kisses But it was not always so Laying in the sun thinking back To the many years ago Abandoned in the city park Under an old oak tree Nearby a tree line By the baseball field Where no one could hear my plea I found shelter under the bleachers Far away from the many creatures Living off scraps thrown in the park The warmth of the sun Versus shivering in the dark Countless days that turned to weeks Hunger pangs screaming out The rest is history As you well might know Stumbling towards voices heard Before the winter snow I was taken in By those whom like you also know Where I receive many kisses Laying in the sun
Profound journey since childhood Grace seems over each horizon Far from light at the end of my tunnel Desire to retraite from any cliques Knowing full well the intentions Yet the chain does not loose its hold Living in darkness Much of the time in paralytic chaos Demons knock upon my door Refusing to flee Deprivation of my dreams Instead hauntings from childhood Creep in unaware Their resolute of carnal ways Tears at my heart In reaction I flee to the place Where my inner heart may find A temporal place of retreat Far removed from beasts Who claw ravenously Quenching their thirst Blocking out the sun's rays Neither its warmth can be felt Upon my face Yet neither can it reach Such woes within my heart
