pastoral

by wiggly jones "the little hippie boy"

the grass is green the greenest ever seen the sky is blue and the birds are too the gardener is gray he works hard all day the lady’s hair is red she wears a hat on her head her dress is white her eyes are bright when they rest upon a cat on the lawn which is playing with a ball which has all the colors of the rainbow but nowhere to go like the elderly gent whose back is bent he lights his pipe with a frown as the sun goes down

would

by wiggly jones "the little hippie boy"

if i were a rabbit i would spend my days absorbing the sun’s beneficent rays if i were a tiger i would sit in a tree wondering why i was meant to be if i were a cockroach i would not care as long as i was getting my share if i were a cat i would find a cozy spot watch the world go by and think my thoughts if i were a monkey i would throw a stone so i would not feel so all alone if i were a beetle i would sit in the grass because i would know all things must pass if i were a river i would flow to the sea if i were you i would not be me if i were a dog i would chase a ball if i were a bird i would fly over you all

the road and the story, part 2

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

to read part one, click here

we parted thus most amicably and i wandered down the road i saw white clouds float through the sky and then i met a toad i asked the toad the time of day he answered, half past three if you don’t mind my saying so you look familiar to me i was little david, he said a slayer of giants bold and you were once goliath back in the days of old that was a few years ago i hope you have learned your lesson nastiness comes and nastiness goes but righteousness is always in session i believe you are mistaken i answered the amphibian politely i am but a philosopher and wear the appellation lightly i take no part in conflicts especially the physical kind and always take the middle ground in those of words and the mind i perceive you to be quite satisfied with being what you are the toad replied with the hint of a sneer but i glory in battles’ scars with that he produced a scimitar and cut my head from my shoulders a proceeding my young self might have deplored but i have grown wise as i have grown older you meet all sorts on the road of life alternately angry and sad but i hum my tune as i walk along and think of all the fun i have had

trees

by wiggly jones,"the little hippie boy"

two monkeys named mick and mike and a baboon named bart are walking through the jungle and they come to an apple tree and a banana tree. the monkeys like apples and the baboon likes bananas. mick and mike fight over the apples and mike kills or at least seriously injures mick. bart is free to eat all the bananas he wants, as the monkeys do not want them. mike and bart continue on their way. they come to a plum tree. neither of them really like plums all that much. they decide to wait. after a while a bear named bruce shows up. unlike mike and bart, bruce is quite fond of plums. he would prefer not to have to fight mike and/or bart for them. after taking the measure of mike and bart, bruce decides to form an alliance with bart against mike. bruce and bart chase mike away from the plum tree. bruce stuffs himself with plums and generously offers to share them with bart, who gratefully accepts a couple even though he is not really hungry and does not really like plums. after devouring the plums, bruce and bart go their separate ways. as fate would have it, bart encounters mike again, sitting on a rock and looking sad. after a few desultory recriminations from mike, they hook up again and go on their not so merry way. they do not come to any more trees, at least no live ones with any fruit on them. they find a dead one, with bugs in it. that is the best they can do. mike is more adept at catching the bugs than bart, and does not let bart forget it. bart expresses proper gratitude to mike for catching bugs for him, but deep down he does not really mean it. after finishing with the bugs and the tree, they move on again. rain begins to fall. they encounter a chimp, a female named catherine. this is where things begin to get interesting. but that is another tale for another day.

ruler

by wiggly jones,"the little hippie boy"

if asked to rule the world, i would give it mature consideration the last time i ruled the world it did not go well i never get excited when asked to rule the world for i have ever been a poet and a dreamer my uncle, who ruled before me, was a nice person, maybe too nice when i was in the prime of my youth i could not decide whether to save the world or conquer it i would be an effective ruler if i had loyal subjects i am starting to feel sleepy i have secret dreams my first counselor was a natural born liar nobody knows you when you are down and out never say you are sorry especially when you are guilty the council were afraid they couldn’t use me we kept it in the family i always wanted a garden and a competent gardener i hate people who think they know everything you might be surprised you know what they say one day i awoke as if from a dream do you know what lies beyond the castle walls? sometimes i wonder i am really no better than anybody else but is anybody else better than me?

nice

by wiggly jones,"the little hippie boy"

if invited to a fancy dress party, i would go as a nice person the last time i cried was when somebody wasn’t nice to me on occasion, my nerves turn into spiders and weave a web of nastiness in the middle of the night i sometimes wish people were nicer everyone agrees that my father was a nice man when i was in my teens i thought that at the age i am now i would be a nice person my only bad habit is scratching my left ear i get upset when people are not nice to me i secretly wish i was a nicer person my mother was a nice lady something i miss about being a child is how nice people used to be the last time i said “sorry” and really meant it was when i stepped on a woman’s foot getting off the bus i am paralyzed by fear when people are not nice compared with most families mine was very nice my idea of a perfect woman is someone with a nice smile in the company of someone much cleverer than me i try to think clever but nice thoughts one thing (apart from money) that would improve my life is if people would be nicer when i think no one’s looking i sometimes think nasty thoughts if my father would only have been treated nicer by the world, it would have been nice i only lose control when people don’t treat me nice if my mother would only have been treated nicer by the world, it would have been nice if i could travel back in time, i would go to a nice town on a nice beach with clean sand i think most people should be nicer how about you? are you a nice person?

wildflowers

by wiggly jones,"the little hippie boy"

aristotle was adamant buddha was a bore confucius was a con man darwin sat by the door einstein was enthusiastic francis fed the birds galileo had stars in his eyes heraclitus made up new words isaiah had a servant who baked judas an apple pie but good king richard stole it on his white horse riding by leonardo painted a picture for which moloch paid full price and he hung it on a rusty nail in his palace of black ice omar wrote a poem that st peter refused to read as he watched the queen of sheba ride by on her royal steed st thomas had a question for uncle bud to ponder as the eleventh foolish virgin rode into the wild blue yonder why does everybody ride when only i must walk? i exhort you, wayward brethren to listen when the wildflowers talk what is yet to come will never be revealed the cloud passes over the scarecrow and the rain falls on the field

the sad ones

by wiggy jones, "the little hippie boy"

for me it’s the sad ones it’s the birds born without wings the birds with broken wings the birds who never learn to fly after a thousand lessons it’s tha cats who never catch birds the cats who never see a bird to catch the cats who look at birds through glass windows all their lives and are never let out it’s the dogs who never run free the monkey who can’t climb a tree the chimp born in the zoo who never finds his own banana it’s bob smith whose mother won’t let him have a dog so he runs away from home at age nine and gets run over by a truck three blocks away and spends sixty five years in a wheelchair it’s ted brown who goes out for little league at age eight and the first ball thrown to him hits him in the face breaking his nose and he has a broken nose forever and he leaves home at age eighteen and a lady in spartanburg sourh carolina catches him taking a piss in her backyard at four in the morning and he is convicted of indecent exposure and has to register as a sex offender for the rest of his life it’s maria willis whose mother won’t let her have friends for no reason that the mother ever explains but who probably wouldn’t have any friends anyway because she is just that kind of person who doesn’t have friends and she spends her life in love with dolly parton and celine dion and fills scrapbooks with pictures of them that she cuts out of newspapers and magazines it’s nancy gray who is kidnapped by her stepfather at age seven and is convicted of murder when she accompanies him when he shoots and kills a pregnant woman in a liquor store holdup outside amarillo texas and who takes remedial courses in prison for twenty years but never really learns to read or write so she never realizes her dream of sending letters to newspapers explaining the injustice of her case it’s the millions of bobs and teds and marias and nancys in thousands of times and places and cultures all over the world forever it’s all the dinosaurs and pterodactyls and giant sloths wiped out by meteors it’s all the neanderthals who were never born because the humans took over europe all the gorillas who were never born because the humans took over africa all the tigers who were never born because the humans took over asia all the bears who were never born because the humans took over north america it’s all the cows who end up in cheeseburgers all the hens who end up as chicken mcnuggets all the pigs who end up in breakfast sandwiches it’s everybody who waits for a bus that never comes the drivers of the buses that get lost in the bermuda triangle it’s the spacemen who never fly the aliens who never land the people whose stories are never believed no matter how many they tell it’s the little girl who dies of cancer three days before christmas so her story does not make the news as it would have if she died on christmas eve it’s all the clouds that never burst all the suns that never set all the waves that never reach the shore all the sand that never feels a raindrop

chipmunk

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

billy woke up with nothing to do his brain was dead but his heart was true he heard a commotion out in the street at the window his eyes a strange sight did meet a mob was shouting a thousand strong billy made out the words of a song the words made no sense but struck him deep the tears inside him he could not keep the sadness inside him he could not hide he put on his hat and went outside but the streets were deserted and quiet regained papers blew in the wind and it started to rain billy went back inside and his hat off he took he sat down in a chair and picked up a book it had a blue cover and pages of white and the author had taken the trouble to write the tale of his life for all to peruse and was very sincere but the book had no news billy put the book down and stared into space no sign of discontentment appeared on his face he thought of the adventures that he had never had and the tv shows he’d seen some of them not half bad he thought of all the nights and days when he had slept and ate and wished he was a chipmunk wouldn’t that be great?

billy brown

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

billy brown was a guy with a twinkle in his eye he had no subterfuge or guile and the sight of a pretty girl made him smile the inspector made his report sweet and short the seventh son of a seventh son and a bit of a simpleton means no one no harm and has a tattoo on his arm proclaiming his love for his mother he seems to have no other particular point of view and if he were you and you were he life would be something of a mystery that may be true, the angel replied gazing through the window outside as oceans rolled and armies clashed planets dissolved and lightning flashed but if he were you what would you do? if you were him would not your prospects be dim? they had had this conversation before but nobody kept score the demon did not fly into a rage but silently turned the page

one thing

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

newton discovered gravity columbus discovered america marie antoinette let them eat cake napoleon met his waterloo queen victoria was not amused george washington could not tell a lie lincoln freed the slaves p t barnum a sucker born every minute edison light bulb custer last stand wyatt earp gunfight at o k corral hitler vegetarian einstein no haircut gertrude stein lost generation hemingway bullfights scott fitzgerald rich people are different lou gehrig luckiest man alive sugar ray robinson pound for pound mae west are you just glad to see me stalin pipe churchill cigar fdr cigarette holder bette davis eyes joan crawford coat hanger clark gable big ears joe louis credit to the human race john wayne draft dodger marilyn monroe happy birthday mr president jfk marilyn monroe fidel castro beard william burroughs shot his wife norman mailer stabbed his wife jack kerouac lived with his mother frank sinatra rat pack elvs stole hound dog bob dylan folk singer louis armstrong born on the fourth of july stevie wonder blind john lennon imagine yoko broke up beatles paul is dead nixon not a crook ronald reagan bedtime for bonzo donald trump orange hair everybody has one thing that they are and they are that one thing forever what is yours?

the road and the story

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

i saw as i went walking st john beneath a tree i asked him where the road did lead he said, please don’t ask me i did not press him further and smiled as i walked past and as i did a raindrop fell and the sky turned overcast i saw as i kept walking a snake upon a rock i had nothing else to do and so i stopped to talk i asked the snake his history and how he came to be he took his time to answer and gazed quite balefully who are to ask me that? the serpent finally croaked do you not then realize that all narratives are smoke? stores have beginnings and stories have ends and i will tell you a story because you are my friend the hero’s name was george and the dragon’s name was zan and george, he never bent his knee to monster or to man george lived with his ma and pa in a hut beside a lake where they fished for what they needed but no more did they take beyond the lake were fields of wheat tended by peasants humble who went about their business but one day the ground did rumble the dragon suddenly appeared breathing smoke and fire and the peasants, perceiving him had no time to enquire as to his motivations or why he sought them out of all creatures on the earth they began to run and shout the hamlet was deserted as the peasants fled in haste and the dragon with his roaring laugh laid their homes to waste smoke began to rise into the sky above the lake where george was peacefully dreaming but he was suddenly awake at this point i had had enough and said excuse me to the snake but i have heard it all before and no more can i take this story has been told before in all its faded glory in fact it is not one story but the sum of all stories do not let me detain you then the serpent then replied it is indeed a story old and my throat was getting dry come back in a million years please, i beg of you after such a lapse of time i may have something new

april

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

a flower grew in a crack in the sidewalk in back of the colossal universal bank where a chauffeur named frank waited for mister magg whose shoulders were beginning to sag from the weight of his responsibilities to the ring of shining cities encircling the spinning globe he wished he was in his bathrobe instead of staring at another prospectus o lord, he thought, protect us frank chewed a piece of gum and a happy tune began to hum but the flower did not care and the blue sky continued to stare as a single raindrop fell on the flower it loved so well

midnight rambler

by wiggly jones "the little hippie boy"

i had a dog named uncle jack who carried a gorilla on his back the gorilla’s name was sally green she lived inside a washing machine sally had a bird called bob the crow who always took it nice and slow bob admired schopenhauer and quoted his wisdom by the hour schopenhauer was often depressed to give his restless mind a rest i would pick a tune on my ukelele i had to do this almost daily arthur smith had a garter snake a real one - not a fake the garter snake’s name was colonel fred he often claimed that he was already dead colonel fred had a cat named paul who sat in rocking chair wrapped in a shawl smoking an endless cigarette and resented being called a pet i had a frog named anatole who was always ready to roll i took him downtown and wined and dined him now i don’t know where to find him i had a friend and his name was blue he was a dog, and a good one too he would chase a squirrel up a tree then turn around and look at me