Mojo Risin
I got this itch ...
ain’t nowhere
to scratch
A store bought woman
took
all my cash
My mojo’s risin ...
so I
gotta go
The night train whistlin
and calls
through the snow
That feelin stays with me ...
freight car
dark and cold
With every new
waypoint
— my scratchin untold
(Listening To Robert Johnson: March, 2026)
-
Author:
Kurt Philip Behm (
Offline) - Published: March 8th, 2026 13:32
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 8
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange, Carlos Alberto BUSTILLOS
Offline)
Comments2
May that itch be scratched my friend
Thanks
Most welcome
Kurt, this one feels like a song that never really left the rails…that wandering blues spirit moving from stop to stop. The scratchin you talk about feels deeper than the surface…more like a restlessness that follows a man wherever he goes. That mood sits heavy in the best way. Plus, you know what I think of that title…just short of a Mr. 😏 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
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