Steps From Martha’s singularity of cobblestone streets, across the waters to the white lines of Route 25. I follow my thumb, feeling restless and alive. The pack on my back is heavy and anchors me to the road, providing providence between my rides. And never lets me forget, that the traveler in me abides. Sleeping under over passes, sharing stories with others who are there. Recalling other places, other faces, and the freedom of open spaces that we share. Three steps forward for every one step back. Trying to comprehend the feelings that I lack. Adding many colors to a background painted black. On the rails from the grandest central station with a young woman of my desire. Heading to the city of wind and cold and fire. We know each others promises and dreams. We practice all the dramas, the silences, and the schemes. Traveling together, making love under cover in our darkened seat. The moon follows us outside the window illuminating our retreat. Three steps forward for every one step back. Trying to comprehend the feelings that I lack. Adding many colors to a background painted black. Using much needed money for a bus ride to Madison town. Finding a long lost brother still lost after he was found. Fighting in the Mifflin Street battles, the night alive with senseless fires. But they were only fueling someones deeply buried violent desires. No answers here, no friends of lasting worth. Told by my muse to flee again maybe this time further north. Three steps forward for every one step back. Trying to comprehend the feelings that I lack. Adding many colors to a background painted black. Got a ride to the Badlands of South Dakota spending a night under a billion flaming stars. Then on to Montana and some nights spent in smoky back woods bars. Followed the mountains up to the land of summer snow. Found some answers in a vision, but not the one I was looking to know. Learned what it meant to be cold and alone even with the closest friends. And decided I never really wanted to be on a trail that never ends. Three steps forward for every one step back. Trying to comprehend the feelings that I lack. Adding many colors to a background painted black. Inherited Bob’s motorcycle and road it south along the rocky road. Finding strength in the natural written word and a friend to divide the load. Every mile meaning I’m further away from my stagnated past. Seeing rocks and trees and universes in the light of a flickering fire’s fast. Giving only enough heat to keep itself alive. And finally drowned out by the power for which I strive. Three steps forward for every one step back. Trying to comprehend the feelings that I lack. Adding many colors to a background painted black. Motorcycling through the heated desert night time with the infamous Canadian four. They had knocked upon our campsite and we had opened every door. Sharing some smoke in Las Vegas before wheeling down to San Diego. Trying to sleep later along the highway and the police man saying no. We bid farewell at the Mexican border as they were headed back home. But we were still unsatisfied and had to continue on our own. Three steps forward for every one step back. Trying to comprehend the feelings that I lack. Adding many colors to a background painted black. Settled down for a while in a small Spanish town with strangers who supplied all our needs. From points to consider, to tales to take in, to conversations furnished with weed. Lessons learned on the run, put temporarily out of time. Particulars penciled in, trying hard to rhyme. The journey never really finds it’s own successful end. You just have to make the path you take feel like a familiar friend. Three steps forward for every one step back. Trying to comprehend the feelings that I lack. Adding many colors to a background painted black.
Posted on: Fri, 26 Jul 2013 13:30:03 +0000
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