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A Hobo's LAST RIDE

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The Audio accompianment is a piano piece of mine titled  "Jazz Noir - Last Ride" Recorded 4.30.19   mp3 file: 2030S-M1

 

Listen to poem:
I am
Not a poet
An old cuss riding words
Once a lad jumping on rail cars
I was

I was
A young hobo
Troublesome skipping school
Down to the Ohio River
Happy

Happy
Feet dangling free
My rod, knife, and rucksack
Raiding gardens along the way
Humming

Humming
God’s sheet-music
Wind turning my pages
Far from my piano bench I’m
Away

Away
Practicing joy
Tomatoes and onions
Between Angeline’s homemade bread
Feeling

Feeling
My heart beating
Excitingly I jump
As crafty as a nimble fox
Stalking

Stalking
At river’s edge
Carefully step-stoning 
In ghostly fog Invisible
I am

I am
Not a poet
Just a gnarly hobo
My bones rattling in a boxcar
Of words

Of words
Disconnected
Clacking consonants chugging on
For naught
 
For   naught
I   ride   dark   notes
Melodies    mishappen
Old   hobo   fingers   laden   play
Jazz   Noir
 


gv 2019.  

Cinquain Chain or Corona of Cinquains is stanzaic invented verse made up of a series of Crapsey Cinquains linked in a chain or corona by the last line of each cinquain repeated as the first line of the next cinquain.


As a young boy I found retreat in three places . . . 
I was fascinated by trains and I loved Fishing: In our steel town the  R.R. tracks, where the steam locomotives constantly belched  by, were only a stones throw from our house. Before the light of day I loved jumping rail-cars which would me take me down to the Ohio River to explore and fish for hours.  There were amazingly colorful robust family garden plots along the way which I selectively plucked. 

Or I was in the woods, exploring streams, making maps, climbing trees & creating secret hideaways.

Or burying myself in books of adventure.   (I did not like practicing piano, though I did love playing my trumpet)


       








  






Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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