no fuss

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

i was walking down the road i had no purpose and no code everything i knew i had forgot and nobody cared what i thought the sky was blank, the earth was flat i saw no human, dog, or cat i saw no car, no truck, no bus i had no cause to make a fuss my brain flew back to former life when all i knew was toil and strife those are old-fashioned words, no doubt but well describe what i was about i remember highways grim houses bleak, and schoolrooms dim gloomy forests running from dogs policemen looming through the fog always running from the man running with no goal or plan maybe it was not a dream and things are really what they seem i have no cause to weep or moan i have my trusty cell phone with pictures, messages, and games losing it would be a shame everything is now connected all the dead are resurrected i keep walking down the road with no purpose and no code

walk

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

i walk down the street and i see people just like me but i don’t talk to them and they don’t talk to me why is that, i wonder is it just their way? or is it because they have nothing to say? i have a lot of things i would like to ask about i would be polite and courteous and not wave my arms and shout but i know way down deep if i tried to talk to strangers they would think i was a creep am i just a creep? who is to say? when the sun goes down it’s night and when it comes back up its day

the happy land

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

i dream of a happy land where the woodchopper chops his wood and the brewer brews his brew and the brew is always good where the cowboy ropes his cows and the shepherd tends his flock and the sheriff keeps law and order solid as a rock where the miller mills his mill and the baker bakes his bread and lily jones the schoolteacher puts good thoughts in the children’s heads where mrs johnson bakes her pies and wins prizes on the fourth of july and the preacher preaches his sermon and folks listen with open eyes where little dogs run down the street in the rain and in the sun and gus wilson the postman says hello to everyone where sally tends her garden and chester tips his cap and judge harris rocks in his chair on the porch enjoying his eternal nap

birth

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

oh you who prize your human birth in this your current stay on earth think back on your forgotten lives in dusty caves and buzzing hives in windswept trees and scattered heaps in icy rivers and ocean deeps in drafty stables and muddy pens in lowly lairs and desperate dens i see a frown upon your brow perhaps that is enough for now and so i pause - but anyhow remember you were once a cow * remember you were once a beetle remember you were once a snail and if you were really lucky maybe you were a blue whale you may think my statements silly you may think my musings odd but if you have a little patience some day you may be a god if you do, try to remember the trillions who await their turn see their faces in the cosmos and know you still have much to learn

groundskeeper

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

i am not the groundskeeper and i am mot the groundskeeper’s son i don’t want a billion dollars i just want to have fun i am not the housekeeper and i am not the housekeeper’s daughter i don’t want to save the world but maybe i oughta i am not the butler and i am not the butler’s secret dream but i know many things and things are not what they seem i am not the master and i am not the master’s favorite hound but i lie awake at night and hear strange sounds i am not the mistress and i am not the mistress’s little dog but i walk alone at night and get lost in the fog i am not the cab driver come to take the mistress to the train but if you asked me what i know there are things that no one can explain i am not the footman straightening my little black bow tie i write no anonymous letters to the police no, not i i am not the pastry cook muttering to myself as i roll my dough there are things better left unsaid there are things it is better not to know i am nor the bishop standing in the rain at the master’s grave who will run to the mountain? who will jump in the river and be saved? i am not the grave digger and i am not his shovel made of wood but i would walk the earth walk the earth forever, if i could

bubblegum

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

one, two, three, four tigers growl and lions roar or is it the other way around? i buy my bubblegum by the pound five, six, even, eight old mother green is in a state of delaware or oregon and leaves bubblegum wrappers on the lawn nine, ten, eleven, twelve henry ford has fired his elves and retired to a castle in mexico wth bubble gum stuck to his toes thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen i am good, how have you been? the price of bubblegum keeps rising but is that really so surprising? seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty bubble had good, and gum had plenty bubble and gum shared thanksgiving dinner and the sun went down on all poor sinners

wish

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

i wish i was a kitten sitting in a tree wearing a green tuxedo for all the world to see i wish i was a goldfish swimming in a bowl everyone could look at me but i would have my soul i wish i was a turtle wandering in the road snakes and dogs would pass me by but i’d be true to my code i wish i was an apple pie on a windowsill baked by old mrs johnson and stolen by old bill i wish i was a wise man in a purple bubble of soap the world would burst around me but i would not lose hope i wish i was a bullfrog on the emperor’s lawn he would send his dragon to get me but i would be long gone

ray and warren

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

all humans are sad and alone some turn to mushrooms, some to stone ray will finish his screenplay some day if the landlady lets him go out to play ray had a friend named warren jones who poisoned his dog and tapped his phones and fell down on his bended knees and reported him to the authorities the authorities were quick to respond ray was here, and now he is gone after a few days, warren felt bad because ray was the only friend he ever had sometimes, in the dead of night warren, by dawn’s early light wonders about the chances of meeting ray again, in the land of a thousand dances

try me again tomorrow

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

you can write a poem on a piece of paper you can catch a fish with a worm you can ask people to listen to your poems and watch the poor creatures squirm i wrote a poem about the sunset though i never go to bed the pillow on the bed was pearly white and the sunset was cherry red noah built an ark of wood jonah was swallowed by a whale my papa called himself a preacher but they still threw him in jail my mama washed rich folks underwear and hung them on the line i polished st peter’s brogans and he saw his face in the shine all you lords and ladies in your gowns and powdered wigs you’ll have a hard time getting into heaven though your bankrolls are ever so big o listen to my sad story and take heed of my fate i ate all st christopher’s biscuits there is nothing left on his plate

the void

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

wise persons through the ages have covered many pages and those pages then destroyed on a subject they can not avoid - the void the great void spins and spins and spins and spins again and again and again and neither loses nor wins does the void exist? it does if you insist but if you do not care for it you do not have to be there for it

the road

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

when you walk down many roads you see houses behind them all with people behind the windows waiting for you to call do not be afraid walk up and knock on the door you will find everybody that you knew in your lives before they will make you a cup of tea and talk about old times they will ask about your secret dreams and forgive you for your crimes

minstrel

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

i wrote a poem to the moon and it did not turn its face to me and smile i wrote a poem to the sun and it only shone on me like everybody else i wrote a poem to the stars and they hid behind a mountain i wrote a poem to the mountain and it did not move i wrote a poem to the road and the dust rose up and choked me i wrote a poem to the rain and it turned the road to mud i wrote a poem to the highway and the cars and trucks passed me by i wanted to walk the roads with li po and walt whitman but would have settled for robert service and joyce kilmer i wanted to hear people say, hail wandering minstrel you make the earth a better place but all i heard was silence and only the sky showed me its face and the face had a smile of snow and the hard laughter of driving rain i sought shelter in an old barn and heard the roar of a passing train i realized i had nothing to say and no one to say it to dawn came, and with nothing else to do i wrote another poem

the river

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

i dreamed i saw walt whitman alive as you or me i was walking down a dusty road he sat beneath a tree i pointed to the sky above the tree neath which he sat and said, tell me o whitehaired sage what do you make of that? i sit beneath this tree, he said because it blots the sky i would fain sit here forever or at least until i die how negative is this, i cried quite property aghast come, let us fly the flag of hope and tie it to our mast the road turned to a river and i found myself afloat with li po and joyce kilmer in a leaky little boat the clouds were white, the sky was blue the ocean loomed ahead i could have flown to heaven but wanted a drink instead my mother’s name was adelaide my father’s name was fred my sister’s name was susie and my dog was old red we lived beside a mountain in a little hut of wood please pass me that bottle if you would be so good everybody has a story everybody has a tale everybody gets a letter from the government in the mail i left my mountain cabin and wandered through the hills high above the city with its flickering lights and thrills i ran from civilization and its roaring metal teeth and watched it burn and crumble but it gave me no relief i came down to the valley and walked the empty roads robots stumbled past me but i could not punch their codes they said the war was over and peace was now at hand but i saw a different message in the fog and burning sand i saw no happy gardens i saw no bubbling brooks i saw vultures in the sky above giving me close looks i saw omar khayyam in paris with a straw hat on his head i asked for words of wisdom and he told me, roses are red i saw rimbaud in samarkand and verlaine in timbuktu i asked for words of wisdom and they said, violets are blue i saw wiliam blake on broadway with a tin cup full of wine he threw his arms around me and we sang sweet adeline i roamed the whole world over looking for jesse james i found him in the bank of london but he did not know my name i wrote a sonnet to abraham lincoln and a letter to the pope i met ambrose bierce on clark steeet and he said, do not lose hope i was captured by nebuchadnezzar a pyramid to build we were marched past cleopatra down by the old mill moses threw me a nickel and joshua a lousy dime the movie started at six o’clock but i was not there on time the show went on without me because all things must pass the river to the ocean and the whiskey to the glass

in the grass

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

the lamb eats the grass the grass has a bug in it and the bug escapes before the lamb eats it the lion eats the lamb the human shoots the lion, with a gun he did not make himself which shoots a bullet he did not make himself the human does not eat the lion instead he goes to a restaurant and eats the roasted flesh of a cow killed six thousand miles away by a human other than himself the head of the lion is removed and made a trophy for the human the rest of the lion is processed into food for dogs the human has a dog - the only creature besides himself that he much cares for he gives the dog, whom he has brought with him to the restaurant, a small slice of the cow the dog is grateful that he gets to eat the roasted cow instead of the processed lion the human eats a salad along with his roasted cow flesh he finds a bug in it the same bug who escaped from the grass as the lamb was eating it before being eaten itself by the lion that the human shot the human is angry at finding the bug in his salad he summons the manager of the restaurant and demands that the cook who prepared the salad and the waiter who brought it to him both be fired the manager complies with the request and fires the cook and the waiter the cook goes home and watches a television show about an intergalactic war in the year 10 million a d the war is between the forces of good and the forces of evil the forces of good are commanded by a beautiful young woman the forces of evil are commanded by a man with the head of a dragon the waiter goes home and gets drunk and falls asleep and dreams in the dream he is a lion a lamb. a cow, a dog, and a bug are his best friends, and they go in search of a lost city and have wonderful adventures