I am a Storyteller, first and foremost. This is my blog for poetry, prose, stories, excerpts of my novels and videos. Life poetry, prophetic poetry, poetry for all genres. I think you'll find yourself here if you read long enough.
Crazy.....insane...is that your name? That's what I heard today They all threw rocks and chains and blocks And I dodged out of their way Stupid...moron...they screamed at me As I did my 180 twirl Why don't you go back where you came from? We don't want you in this world! I shrugged my shoulders and smiled at them And blessed them in my heart Just take your Jesus and get out of here They yelled at me: Depart! We want our fun, you mindless one Our TV shows and trash How dare you come here and bring us down Why, we ought to whip your a--! Bring it on, my brothers I said, opening my book Turned my cheek and started again In the glow of their angry looks For God so loved the world, I read And they pelted me with hate That He gave His only begotten Son As they screamed at me my fate The crowd grew near yet I felt no fear Even when they tore my clothes For I saw a hand reach from the clouds And into the sky I rose Holding the book and reading still I heard their astonished wails They stared at me and to a man They shouted "What the hell?!" You're closer to it than I am I pointed to the sod You're on your way to Hades's gates And I'm on my way to God But wait! they pleaded, Don't leave us now! Teach us how to fly! And I looked down at their startled faces And said, First, you'll have to die Die to self and die to sin And die to Satan's grip And to a man, the words "I'm lost!" Poured forth from anguished lips
I preached to them for many hours And they prayed the sinner's prayer Then the day grew late and they went their way And left me alone up there And in the darkness, I descended down Till the dew covered ground I met Uh, Lord? I queried, What's going on? And He said, "You're not dead yet."
Way down south They have this thing Called love It grows on trees and bushes And in big truck patch gardens Like watermelons And rhubarb. People tell me At one time, It even came attached to babies Right outta the womb But I can’t find nobody now To corroborate that So I just keep it filed away in my head. Too many damned fools And dreamers Running loose in the world now, You can’t believe nothing you hear And very little of what you see So you got to be careful Or you’ll get run over by a lie. My mama was sixteen Her mama, twenty-nine When I was born (We all just kinda grew up together) Them and me Not a man in the family And not a one of us with no daddy. One day Mama run off With a peddler fella Who sold shoes and liniment Out of the back of his car A shiny eyed, nice looking man from up North Who talked a good tale and charmed all us ladies Just like a snake with a bird. That left her mama And me, with no mama Alone in the world with nothing to do But cry in our pillows and keep us a look-out For red dust to come flying behind a big car Hopefully, finally, bringing her back. I waited many a year For that day to come And it never did while I was a kid, The only thing that did happen Was another bad thing And I don’t really know how to talk about that, So I won’t. When I was going on fifteen I thought about leaving, myself So I packed up the only things Mama ever gave me Which was a porcelain-faced doll And a bunch of old clothes And me and that doll and my dreams hit the road. About twenty miles outside The hills and the hollers Where I grew to be fourteen and a little past that, A man in a pick-up asked if I wanted a ride And I said “Yessir.” (I was awfully tired) And I climbed in to his grin and his un-welcomed stare. Two miles down the road He pulled into some trees, Turned off the motor, Handed me a Grapette, And a big pack of peanuts out of a bag And sat there and watched me Until I began to feel sick. “What’s a purty little thing Like you doing out here by yourself?” He asked, throwing my empty out of the truck I clutched my knapsack close to my chest, And said I reckoned I was on vacation And that I reckoned he ought to be starting the truck And that I reckoned he needed to move his old hand! “I got a knife.” I told him And he just grinned wider and leaned in real close “Well, I betcha you do, honey But you know what? I bet I can take that knife from you And cut your pretty throat with it!” And at that, I jumped out of that truck and I ran. He chased me for nearly a mile, I think Till I got so tired I couldn’t run He’d pull up beside me and then pull off Then he’d come up behind me and then stop in front And I was so scared, I was about to cry When I saw a State Trooper car come round the bend And the man in the truck high-tailed it fast as a cat. I ran off in the bushes till the Trooper drove by Then I ran out of the bushes and up to the road But I was too careless and I dropped my stuff And my little doll fell, her head shattering like glass, My only companion for many long years, Her little white face, Broken there on the ground. “Shit!!!!!!!!!!!” I wailed And began to cry “Now, I ain’t got nobody and nothing to love!” And I just grabbed the rest of my stuff And walked away feeling like I was dead inside, With big dirty tears streaming all down my face Not knowing where in God’s name, I was going to go. Why did I just tell you all of that? I said all of that just to say this, I walked all the way clear up North after that Walked into Detroit and then on to Canada All over Antarctica, no, it wasn’t Antarctica, One of them other cold places That starts with an A. And when I got past grown And was too tired to walk, I started dreaming about going back home Seeing my mama and going back home Not that she’d be there, But I sure wanted to see her, And get out of the North and head on down South. The only thing was, No one could tell me how to get there Everybody I asked said their compass was broke And that nobody, nobody, went down South anymore And that they didn’t rightly think that it existed no more (Plus, they all want to know why I want to go To a place that is hotter-n-hell.) “Cause that’s where love lives!” I always tell ‘em But I can’t explain what I mean And they don’t know what love is anyway, They were born in the cold, so I shut my mouth And keep right on dreaming that I’m driving down That long reddish road full of hot reddish dust Back to the only home that I’ve ever known. Back to the tar paper shack in the hills, Where the ghosts of my mama And her mama are waiting And that poor little baby That my Mama brought home And that poor little baby that I birthed all alone All of them, ghosts, waiting for me to come home.
ONION SKIN MY KINGDOM IS LIKE AN ONION BELOW WHAT'S REVEALED ON THE SURFACE: THERE ARE MANY PARTS, MANY LAYERS LEVELS, GOING UP, GOING DOWN MANY HIDDEN TREASURES WAITING TO BE PEELED BACK AND CLAIMED. YOU ARE LIKE AN ONION MANY COMPARTMENTS, MANY SIDES, MANY THINGS THAT MAKE YOU WHO YOU ARE AND SLOWLY BY SLOWLY, I PEEL BACK YOUR LAYERS REPLACING THE WRONG WITH RIGHT, THE POOR WITH RICH YOURSELF WITH MYSELF UNTIL WE ARE ONE. THIS IS HOW I MADE THE WORLD THIS IS HOW IT IS SHALLOW PEOPLE RECEIVE THE SHALLOW AND THE DEEP SEEK OUT THE DEEP. IT'S ALL LAID OUT LIKE AN ONION BITE INTO LIFE AND IT MAKES YOU CRY BITE INTO IT AGAIN AND YOU ACQUIRE A TASTE WHAT MAKES YOU WEEP GIVES YOU JOY WHAT SEEMS TO HURT THEN GIVES YOU THE ULTIMATE PLEASURE. MY KINGDOM IS LIKE AN ONION AND ONLY THOSE WITH EYES TO SEE CAN SEE ONLY THOSE WITH EARS TO HEAR CAN HEAR ONLY YOU, OF MANY LEVELS AND LAYERS MAY SEARCH OUT THAT KINGDOM WITH DETERMINED HANDS AND WITH PASSION AND ENDURANCE AND SURETY IN ME MAY POSSESS IT.
