02 Oct 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, No Comments.

10/02 Venice, Italy

I finished last night’s joint out on the balcony and then spent about an hour watching the taxis jockey for position and transport the masses from place to place.  A unique perspective on canal life.  I passed a few dollars into the hands of a boat owner who showed me around the channels.  I figured that was a good first step to accustom myself to the island.  I traced the labyrinths of narrow streets and waterways and watched gargoyles pass under arches where the king of ghosts and shadows once danced.  I sat in St. Marco’s square watching the locals until the pigeons got annoying.  Eventually I located a nice little café, had a very good meal and wandered about the shops.  Sometimes shopping could be a drag for somebody like me who has a good eye but lacked the necessary funds.  Venice would be a grand place if one could just turn off all the tourism.  What things must have once been like back when Polo returned.  I blended into the night and finished a long day gazing down on the canal from my balcony.

Venice gave me a feeling like I was stepping back into the past, allowing myself to be influenced by its colors and mood.  I would intentionally lose myself in the labyrinth of canals and squares.  Penetrating deeper into its heart, I found myself captivated by the colored lights from bird cages, vases of flowers and the passing of gondolas that danced against the canvas of sun drenched paint and exposed brick.  I followed the voices that echoed of great events and resonated in striking the hour of the day and pulled me into the main square.

Disrobed down to a child, I’ve dreamt outside the gate, no feathers for this head I lay, no pride, nor fear, nor hate,
the world is my home, yet, I’m so alone, imprisoned by the wait

Far inside the day has risen, deep inside echo’s a cry, as if a silent voice from heaven,
was seeking out, this place I lie

I stood beside the table, for a scrap to fill my plate, then melted into the night alone, no pride, nor fear, nor hate,
the world is my home, yet, I’m so alone, imprisoned by the wait

Far behind the day has ended, in the breath of another day,
with a withered body & tired feet, I seek out, a place to lay

The world is my home, yet, I’m so alone, imprisoned by the wait