Archives for the month of: January, 2015


A bird without a wing is still a bird


A wing without a bird is just plain trash

sometimes we just can’t do enoughzen-cat





Diary of a Mad dru

 Every time that I look in the mirror
All these lines on my face gettin’ clearer, the past is gone
It went by like dusk to dawn, Isn’t that the way?
Everybody’s got their dues in life to pay
Sing with me, sing for the year
Sing for the laughter and sing for the tear
Sing with me, it’s just for today
Maybe tomorrow the good Lord’ll take you away
* Stephen Tyler *



I am walking though a medieval type village, I don’t know how I got there but most of the people are not friendly; not hostile just indifferent as if their own troubles are enough for them.

For an unknown reason, I must get out of this village but it is composed of tent like homes side to side.  Some homes are only three sided and you see into the whole from the front.  Some are four sided and a flap is used to enter.  Some flaps are laid open, some are closed.  The backs of the tents constitute a continues wall, at least as far as I have walked, so to get out of this place you must enter a tent and exit through the closed back or finally find the end of the walls of tents.  These tents are on both sides and the middle constitutes the open ground for the people.  The tents are homes and shoppes or closed to the eye and I have a dread that when I reach then end of the wall, this will actually be a rectangle encampment and I am trapped.  I decide I will continue to explore for awhile and then approach someone or ones.  Perhaps find an eatery or bar where instant friendship is more the norm and information flows with gossip.

I see a woman with a large flock of chickens.  She is about to beat a very skinny young rooster to death with a stick or a club.  The rooster is lying stretched out on the ground not huddled.  She has hit him at least once and is about to do so again.  I fleetingly wonder why she isn’t wringing his neck.

I physically stop the women by grabbing her upraised hand.  I ask why the rooster must die; will it be food, is he sick, has he done something wrong, why does she not wring his neck instead of clubbing him to death?

She answers he is malformed, he can not bend to the ground to eat or drink as there is a crook in his beak and his neck is too long.  No mother hen will feed him so he must be hand fed.  He is too much effort for not enough gain as she has many roosters and many more hens.  He will not be food as he has not enough meat on him for a stew or enough fat to make a decent broth.  She would have killed him sooner but her husband fed him.  He husband is not here and she will not feed him so she is though with him but she wants to club him because she is mad at her husband for feeding him and the rooster represents trouble between them.

I say I claim him and give the woman two baubles as I am wearing pants with pockets; a skirt over my pants, also with pockets; two small shirts and one large shirt/tunic; several scarves and sashes around my waist and around my neck; many strings of beads and baubles and leather pouches.  I also have a large hat that fits closely to my head with a very large brim.  I have baubles to give and who knows what in my pockets.  I say one bauble is for the worthless bird and one bauble is to fill one food pouch with bread and spiced meat, another with chicken feed and a final one with water.  She agrees because the bird is worthless so the two baubles cover the food stuff and water and might actually have paid for a meal provider by her had I so asked.

I do not wish to eat there but I have shown generosity, without ignorance of price so I will get what I want but not be considered a real target of wealth. She will probably not boast that she has two baubles no matter how much she wishes to boast because she sold the worthless cursed beaked bird for one new bauble but then she might become a target of wealth.   I ask her for a small woven basket and she gives me two.

I continue on.

I pull up the rooster’s head and catch the tip of his curved beak over my water flask, he drinks.  I tie sashes to one small basket put the bird in the basket and tie it to around my neck and lower waist to my back.  The bird immediately lifts its long neck and places its head on my shoulder.  He says “Thank you” or so I believe and immediately he closes his eyes to sleep, or so I hope.

I still must get out of this encampment; I have no idea how; when I look at the backs of people’s homes or business for holes or slits; the people seem hostile.  There is not space between the enclosures as each enclosure shares both sides of the tent walls with the next; I am more worried.

I stop to rest by a very large bush beside a rock, there is shade there.  I notice that there is young hen huddle down not far from me.  When she sees me looking at her she approaches me.  She speaks.  Evidently I speak chicken or the hen speaks my language.  She tells me I rescued that rooster and she must follow him, as she is his guardian, therefore she is coming with me whether I want it or not.  She says the woman has no idea she is gone and will not miss her as her flock is large and the woman is one of the wealthiest women in her area.  She also says that had I haggled, the one bauble would have bought them of both.  She tells me she can help me too and points out the bush I sit by is hollow inside, We three push into the center of the bush which is even cooler and from which we can not be observed.

I feed and water us all.  It is not hard to feed or water the crooked-beak long-necked rooster; you just must hold the receptacles a little higher than the ground.  He seems to already be fatter and better looking and it is obvious that his feathers, when grown out, will be bright and vivid not the dusty neutral color he is now.  Most of that appears to be dirt.  I name my rooster Cogburn and the hen WatcherGuide.

The hen starts scratching in the ground for bugs and such; she brings some bugs for me to hold for up for Cogburn. UGH but I do.  She scratches up the body of a small kitten.  I am sure she will eat some of the kitten and I don’t want to watch.  I turn my head away as she and Cogburn both need food.  The hen picks up the limp body of the kitten and drops it on my lap.  “This is alive” she says; do something about it.

It is alive so I pour water down its throat.  When it opens its eyes, I pour more water but I’m at a lost for anything else.  WatcherGuide lays an egg and says use this.  I do.  It helps.  I name the Kitten Trouble and place it in my neck scarf on the other side of my neck from Cogburn’s head. Since the first feeding, Cogburn has been humming in my ear.  It isn’t really pretty but he seems content.  He later tells me he wants out of the basket so he can try his legs.  He says he used to walk and he believes he still can but must practice.  He feels that only one wing is broken from the assault but he is very weak.

I take both from my neck, place the kitten in my lap, let the rooster walk to his guardian and huddle down by her; I roll over on my side around the kitten and sleep.   ROOSTER



I am anger * I am laughter

I wonder why

I hear my name being called

I see goblins on the wall

I want money and contentment

I am anger * I am laughter


I pretend I don’t care

I feel like I matter

I touch softness

I worry about money

I cry for myself but I also cry for others

I am anger * I am laughter


I understand betrayal

I say  I don’t care

I dream in fits of glory

I try to understand

I hope for contentment

I am anger * I am laughter