aye! a wayward wind


The wayward wind is a restless wind
A restless wind that yearns to wander
And she was born the next of kin
The next of kin to the wayward wind



In a lonely shack by a railroad track
She spent her younger days
And I guess the sound of the outward-bound
Made her a slave to her wand’rin ways



And the wayward wind is a restless wind
A restless wind that yearns to wander
And she was born the next of kin
The next of kin to the wayward wind



Oh I met her there in a border town
She vowed we’d never part
Though she tried her best to settle down
I’m now alone with a broken heart



And the wayward wind is a restless wind
A restless wind that yearns to wander
And she was born the next of kin
The next of kin to the wayward wind














Herbert Newman & Stanley R. Lebowsky


James Roderick

Clyde Caldwell

& Kaleya

beautiful models anonymous


Elvis Bojangles


kiss of democracy theatre III

Tanya R as Col Sheena J

She Who Is Obeyed


by Rawclyde!



After about 6 weeks of boot camp

us new recruits of 1st Platoon got our 1st break

in the barracks dayroom for 3 hours

Sheena showed up with a joint for her & I to share


Outside we ducked thru a wooden door below the building

The floor was dirt, the ceiling low, the walls unpainted

In the darkness the match flared

Sheena’s face flashed forth that of Saint Joan of Arc!


Stunned, I took a toke, Saint Joan, she cracked a joke

Thoroughly stoned we levitated into the dayroom

sat quietly on a plastic couch

1st Platoon spastically whirled around us


Over-wired by 6 weeks of boot camp

All the worthless bums were soldiers now

Hair cropped, grins big, suddenly too healthy to relax

While Sheena & I sat silently stoned, watching


Pool balls cracked & ricocheted

Dumb jokes splattered, laughter clattered

Sheena lifted her fatigues, made me kiss her tummy

In full view of all those raw recruits


Her warm belly-button sucked me into Afghaneeland

Mission Impossible become a dreamy Betty Boop slope

In a slobbery Tora Bora cave I become a slippery slave

Swallowing the orders & commands of Col. Sheena Johnson!


starring Tanya Roberts

text copyright Clyde Collins 2014




entering barda


sofia is brilliant she never fades

by those who love her she is readily


she anticipates those who desire her

by making herself known first

whoever gets up early to seek her

will have no trouble

but will find her sitting at the door



meditating on her is understanding

in its perfect form

and anyone keeping awake for her

will soon be free from care

for she herself searches everywhere

for those who are worthy of


benevolently appearing to them on

their ways

anticipating their every thought

for wisdom begins with the sincere

desire for instruction

care for instruction means loving




text by king solomon & elvis bojangles

art by kaleya at deviantart

& the strange design is by an anonymous artist


seeking sofia







sofia is a spirit friendly

to humanity

though she will not let a

blasphemer’s words go



her jealous ear overhears


not even a murmur of complaint

escapes her


so beware of uttering frivolous



restrain your tongue from finding


even what is said in secret has


& a lying mouth deals death to your



blessed be ye


whose hand

commits no crime

& who harbors no resentment

against her wisdoms

a special favor will be granted to

you for your loyalty

a most desirable portion in her





the book of wisdom

jerusalem bible


time machine minority media

mario837 deviantart


elvis bojangles


lamentations of sofia

by SharOn Alder

I have given them eyes to see,
And they have not seen.
I have given them ears to hear,
And they have not heard.
I have given them a mind to discern,
And they have not discerned
The ways of holiness.
I have given them a heart,
And they have not loved one another
Or the Holy Mother.

I have given them a bright star
To guide them to the Holy Land,
Yet they have wandered in the deserts
Of desire and despair.

And when they came to the Holy Land,
The Chosen Ones took with them
The ways of desecration and war.
The Chosen Ones defiled and laid waste
The holy cities, the holy temples,
The children, the mothers and the old ones.
The Chosen Ones defiled her holy daughters
And sacred land.

From their way, who has returned
To the ways of sanctity and holiness?

Who has prepared their hearts for her return?
Who has raised for her, her sacred temples?
Who has clothed and honored her sacred daughters?
Who has fed her little children?
Who has cared for the aged and the crippled?

Who has purged her Holy Land from the ways of war
And laid the sacred ground with the ways of peace?

Oh ye children of man, I say,
Prepare yourselves with fasting and with prayers.

For the lamentations of The Mother are great.

For her temples and beloved are naught,
And they see and behold her not.


art / clyde caldwell


editor / elvis bojangles