The Wanderer

The Wanderer Nov 2014

I once owned a book by legendary writer Robert Randolph.

I read this old dusty 8 pound hardcover from front to back on many an occasion.

I used this large table top as a weight when poor.

I used this behemoth centerpiece to stable my table on the kitchen floor.

But I will never forget the time I was cold and needed the heat,

I ripped out the index of my old steady book,

A match to the corner was all that it took.

10 burning seconds later I was as toasty as could be.

All I remember seeing was page 443 flutter out into the atmosphere.

And at this moment I bid my old trusty friend a fond farewell.

The Wanderer Nov 2014

Smokin'

Smoke billowing up over the trees turning into clouds of their own.
A black and white yellow highlighted sky.

Too far off to see what happened.

Sirens go wailing by at the speed of light.
A blur of red and yellow and blue.
A regular Aurora Borealis of illumination.

No word yet on the cause.

People stopped all over to look in wonder at the towering smoke monster climbing the stairway to heaven to ask St. Peter for a light.

Young kids tug at their mothers beige pant leg to ask what that is, what's going on, and what it's all about.

A cross trans-illumination of cell phone out to capture the growing beast before he fades into obscurity; or takes over the whole sky.

Ah well......I gotta get a gallon of milk.

I'll check it out on the flip side.

The Wanderer Nov 2014

The Phone

Sitting. Patiently waiting for the phone to ring.
A cool relaxing breeze swirls around me like a hula hoops swirls on the waist of a spry 16 year old African American gymnast.

The silence is deafening.

The darkness of the night engulfs me and covers me like a newborn baby boys blanket, swaddling me comfortably in the cool dark night.

Time never moves as slow like when you're waiting for the phone to ring.

I can see the paint fading around me and I hear the grass growing outside as I wait. The sound of microscopic construction workers erecting the seemingly 50,000 foot high green skyscraper. Tiny vehicles carrying the appropriate components to get it up as fast as their little bodies can handle......

At Last!
A RING!!

.......wrong number......

Shame.

Guess I'll continue to wait.

The Wanderer Jan 2014

Communication.

Communication

Communication is the center of all things useful and all things true.
Without communication we would know nothing and not be able to inform our companions of what's new.

Communication.

The basis of all things that need to be done and all things that have been proven.

Communication.

If it's so important than why doesn't it exist everywhere for everyone?
Why am I the last to know about the crucial things and what needs to be done?

Communication.

How it would be nice if it were true.

The Wanderer Jan 2014

The Light.

I walk up the stairs hoping to see the light.
The light of a new life or new place; even a time or name would be fine.
I sit down and think of the days that have passed me by.

Wondering

Wondering I am of what will be next and if it will be better than the last.
It has to be. It should be. It won't be.

Sadness.

Like an overcoat of wool it drapes over me until I can no longer see the light

Darkness.

I'll wait until the next ride.

The Wanderer Jan 2014

The inconsolable truth.

We've all seen him.

The man on the train asking for "fare".
The guy on the corner with a sign saying
"Help
Homeless
Hungry"

We know the smell of garbage, *****, and despair.

That's why we have headphones isn't it?
That's why we have iPhones and blackberry's .
Why make eye contact when we can just look busy and pretend that creature isn't there.
What's wrong with that?
We all do it.
We all wish they would just get a job or at the least go someplace where we don't have to see 'em.
That's not too much to ask, that's no too much, is it?

I know! Let's make them fight for money!
Let's make them clean the streets and in exchange we'll give them *****, sandwiches, and meat.
That'll do just fine.

That should solve the problem indeed.
Ignore, ignite, and indulge.

As long as they don't bother me.

As long as we don't have to think about it or be faced with the inconsolable truth that maybe, just maybe, that the person sitting there is a human, and that at some point that person sleeping there was probably
just
like
me.

The Wanderer Jan 2014

Floating along.

Three million years in the future where will we be?

Will we be exploring undiscovered heights high in the night sky?
Flying in the celestial winds of a faraway place?
Or perhaps dancing on the moons of a to be determined land.

I hope that we are floating along together in a wonderful new world where dreams come true, people smile together, and laugh at the stars passing by care free.

Someday I hope that's where we'll be.