The 2nd Annual Celebration of a Man With No Name (Parts 1 and 2)

One

Birthday to birthday
Chained to memories
Evolving as predicted, and how
The claws of the seas

The truth can be felt
Revolving on tongues
Sometimes swallowed
Sometimes leaping from the jaws of songs

Whatever we are
Slowly fading
Everybody moving through
Ever masquerading

The man, a man
One with no name
Out there somewhere
Part of a game

For heaven's sake
They don't return
No chin to shoulder
Behind you burns

Exquisite eye
Feast upon
The humour of
Watching where the river goes until it is gone

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Two

Dearest nameless folk,

For having no name doesn't mean one does not exist. The memory bank and truly odd games. You are out there, similarly ageing, grey hair appearing, the days grinding you down. Doubtless there are highlights, flickers of joy, memories of all the toys, living lies, because that's all there is to survive.

Turn off lights. You try the darkness on for size, see how it fits. For those who know it too well it doesn't come recommended. Remember the tunnel.

I could wish you happiness but what would that matter. In foreign places little can unite us. But, that is just perspective. Somebody's narrow perspective. Tunnels without light. Strange ones indeed.

You once spoke words and I forgot your name. They met me like arrows, clawed their way inside, rattled around and caused damage, changing a man forever, but somehow that isn't allowed.

But today is a special day. I suppose they all look and feel the same, but it's special I'm told. I wish you well, perhaps even for a dream fulfilled to exit from the wishing well, find you and comfort you, even as we age we need the comfort kids knew. Turn the light on. Like a nephew's night time light. Darkness is for going nowhere. Nowhere at all.

Eternally,

The Hobo Artist

Another Page

Has it really been two years? Has it really been four different countries and only two visits back to my country of birth, my Fatherland, and my ever shrinking family there? I have fallen more deeply in love with words with each passing day, or so it has felt. That said, there is room for much growth still to come. Hopefully, this relationship is just getting started.

For all the battles to find dreams and slow down time end so hopelessly, yet still fresh hope is somehow invested in a constant cycle that never let's true defeat conquer. Sometimes it's all too much, at other times maybe you never felt stronger. They knock you down easier than they do anything else. It's their number one role, they perform it well. If it were their job and they were paid for it, well they'd be masters of their craft. It isn't though, and they aren't anywhere near as good at anything else.

These days stroll by like easy memories. Short ones, long ones, all slipping pointlessly by. Another page, that lasts but a moment, another song, but yes, it can change everything. I think about the tortured dog, the woman I love, the sleeping past, awaking when it seemed gone forever, the faces that somehow form your heart, the places, the words, the pages, the smells, the vibrations, and the endless music.

There is just too much to say, but words have a place where they are brilliantly strung together. Still searching, finding jewels that didn't seem possible some time ago, uncovering secrets and dressing in the colours of night.

Returning feels sweet, good to know those places haven't also departed forever. Happiness shining, from behind the clouds, from cracks in the faces, from the darkest of places, always comes light.

Once More In Arms

Good evening, Bill Fay. Good evening, beautiful ones. Grandfathers and ticking clocks, ageing as we are, all of us are fragile, all of us have battlescars, weary and energetic. Once again we are united, we came together for something. Love blossom, never know those boundaries. Never call us in, for we were born to explore, to never end here. All of this is magic, all for souls.

A new page is whatever you want it to be, turn out your pockets, what you put in them now is a matter of choice.