Wesley Wall


(184th Semiannual General Conference talk summaries (+photos) (96 photos), Mormon church Deseret News, October 4, 2014, http://m.deseretnews.com/photo/765660539 )

[hobby  horses]



KARMALOOP [featuring young black male model]


“Spinning Wheel”
What goes up, must come down
Spinning wheel got to go round
Talkin’ ’bout your troubles, it’s a cryin’ sin
Ride a painted pony, let the spinning wheel spin
You got no money and you, you got no home
Spinning wheel, all alone
Talkin’ ’bout your troubles and you, you never learn
Ride a painted pony, let the spinning wheel turn
Did you find a directing sign on the straight and narrow highway?
Would you mind a reflecting sign?
Just let it shine within your mind
And show you the colors that are real
Someone is waiting just for you
Spinning wheel spinning through
Drop all your troubles by the riverside
Catch a painted pony on the spinning wheel ride
Someone’s waiting just for you
Spinning wheel spinning through
Drop all your troubles by the riverside
Ride a painted pony, let the spinning wheel fly

(HSBC [British bank] (Spinning Wheel, Blood Sweat and Tears, http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/bloodsweattears/spinningwheel.html ) 

About Me.  Spinning Wheel is of the many songs that I really liked in the 1960s, early 1970s.   I never thought about there being any reference to mind altering drugs.  I now realize, so many of the songs from that era are about drugs.

When I read the lyrics today, this part

You got no money and you, you got no home
Spinning wheel, all alone
Talkin’ ’bout your troubles and you, you never learn
Ride a painted pony, let the spinning wheel turn

I thought about my grandson Wesley and I wondered, what is the Mormon church planning for my grandson Wesley, who just so happens to be the primary  plaintiff in a legal case.

One day in the year 2010 Wesley said to me, “I’m broke.”  He meant that he didn’t have any money but I could see that he was broken in spirit.  The emotional pain I felt I could only bear with prayer to and  help from Jehovah.  Right around that time I was reading a book titled Half-Broke Horses, By Jeannette Walls:

The next day we gelded the new males, since, if they were going to be worth anything, they had to be trained into workhorses.  It was nasty work; me, Dorothy, Zachary, and his wife, Ellie-she was not quite as big as her daughter but every bit as tough-each holding a rope tied to one of the horse’s legs after we’d caught him, knocked him down, and flipped him on his back.  Apache tied the horse’s two hind legs to his belly,  then Dad wrapped his head in a burlap sack and held it down while Apache knelt behind his rump, working first with the cleaver then the knife, blood spraying everywhere, the horse neighing hysterically while farting and kicking and twisting his back.

But it was over pretty quick. When we let the first horse free, he rose and staggered around drunkenly for a few steps.  I herded him out of the corral, and after a moment he sighed and put his head into the tall grass to graze like nothing much had happened.

“Don’t even miss ’em,” Zachary said.

“We should do Old Man Pucket next,” Dad said.

That got a chuckle out of everyone.

(Half-Broke Horses, Jeannette Wall, page 51)

INK 361


(Mormon Incorporated’s Jim Crow Museum of Racist Memorabilia, Ferris State University, Big Rapids, Michigan;
curator: FBI agent David “Pilgrim”, http://www.ferris.edu/jimcrow/caricature/more/ink.htm)
[My grandson Wesley did not give me permission to type and post this poem:]My Ink was written by me, Wesley McLeon, in a hospital. I was locked up in a room part of the warden [sic] of depressed children (ages 6 through 16) in Hoboken, NJ. I was sent here because of my depression, anger, and my sorrow, but these are the emotions which fueled my head to think these words up and my hands to write them.The day: January 5, 2008.

My Ink
By: Wesley McLeon
Age: 13

In black ink, I write the pain of injured souls

And the grief of forgotten dreams
I write my last tears searching in vain
For the warmth of hands that wipe them away
I write the black of night, starless

And the dying glance of fading flowers.


In green ink, I write the springtime of my life
I write my land, my kingdom
I write my garden of youth
and all the dreams I planted there.

In red ink, I write the flames of my ravenous anger
I write the blood of my lost freedoms
I write the blaze that fuels the fire of my rage.
In blue ink, I write the distant sky of my desire
Of my unrequited dreams
I write my gaze which is lost in the waves
of the sea in summers June.
I write the gentle sky blue of lost loves.
[end of poem] (Wesley is the primary plaintiff in a legal case against Berkshire Hathaway, JPMorgan Chase, and other corporations, including and most especially, the Mormon church.  cc all Mormon attorneys)
FOR THE RECORD.  Several times two Cream-O-Land milk trucks and one or two Tuscan milk trucks drove back and forth along Kennedy Boulevard during Annual Meeting of Jehovah’s Witnesses, October 3, 2015.AnnualMeeting2015/90-JCBus-JCPD-Tcab.jpg
photo taken while standing in front of Assembly Hall of Jehovah’s Witnesses, Journal Square, Jersey City, New Jersey, October 3, 2015
[South Carolina license plate]
WordPress Crash Course
You wish you was us

47 weeks ago
Wes dog you in dirty myrtle
[Harry Potter:]
You wish.