Jigsaw Puzzle

The first book by Ragman Jones Jigsaw Puzzle. (click here to order) is available to by from Barnes & Noble, Amazon & other sites.

A few excerpts:


Tomorrow is the day before fried fish fly upstream. But the C is a little further from the moon than Broadway. New York subway trains drive backwards in a sloth like fashion, victim. To a child, a pear, also a tambourine with no monkey symbols that crashes in the way that bananas peel after falling from coconut palms; palms that gypsies read for five dollars at fairgrounds sometimes for free for those who really believe. Believe that blankets dry faster than towels on rainy mornings.

Trees talk louder than the phoenix rises from its ashes, ashes that fall softly upon the keys that open doors. Although multicoloured chimneys and swings that marry foreign atoms in skies where raindrops fall upwards could all be a dream. On many a sleepless night clocks tick louder than any buttons open relationships that cross oceans during full eclipses of the sun; while wasps land on plastic glass rainbows and the treasure is really, that the key to the chest that has no tar on lung. But a bird that loses flight in oily seas because the health of the people is less important than any electrical television repairs on city rooftops that vanish slowly in the back of mindless soft ice cream cone tunes.

Tunes that pass after mealtimes delving into the pockets of fifty pence denims or perhaps Federal Reserve notes that jingle the yellow rose of Texas. Only to find that the largest bank is broke even though the rulers can only answer the unquestionable question. To understand the A B Sea is to know the answer for every spoken word. Words, which cannot be taught too. Learned scholars. Those who drink their camels and smoke their rum while watching sailors balloon across the planes because of their fears of drowning and the Earth being flat; and silky smooth which can render it lifeless. Such as the car that flew past, while stationary miles can never reach the destination that they have chosen.

The choice is only sombre but even so, they are hidden under a feathered cap language that is never spoken and could be communicated telepathically. We should see The All Hallowed Virgin upon the dewdrop covered leaves aloft the dusty skies of silk.



Corn-fed free-range eggs battle with tins of silver tabled tuna fish; while sandwiches eat their radios. I am resting upon the TV set that boldly sees little children calling out in earnest. Where is he anyway, did the train leave the station, “Was that cat black or white?” asked the attendant; as I saw that time would soon run out for me. The furious whistle of the stationmaster awoke me with surprise.

Couldn’t find any raindrops in which to bathe!” screamed the Queen. While in the background the cow bowed swiftly and to much excitement forgot his lines but then he began to speak; “A flower rises softly in the afternoon especially after a storm; I think the snow helps but those dogs will only giggle while the moon is smiling; on a shore of dearest sand.” The old bull never moved but the tirade hummed every once a butterfly or was it a caterpillar? Nevertheless the needless street bought a smile to the beautiful and unspoiled eyes of childhood memories. The emptiness of spacious art filled the colours of the imagination but could offer no resistance to tired legs or staring eyes that on fire rage and have no place to rest.

The preacher always wanders if the trouble he incurred ever helped the loneliness of the two passing strangers who forgot to call on the restful day of the blooming trees of mayhem.



Windy morning to be out walking that ostrich. Still you may find solitude watering those plants with gravy, not too hot though because my people jump over tomatoes at this time of year; you can not beat peach but upon retreat the summer snow blossoms just as blueberries can abstract tra erutcip. Know understandingly you must mean art picture? No!

Seventy-four firemen told me that alligators could fall from the sun. One came yesterday afternoon as a matter of my fact, they were trying to put it out. Chase your tail if you are free to do so but there must be silence at all times in the tin pot. To regain three firecrackers that ring stars to the dusk filled sky; yet war is not the discipline of the soldier it is for the babies at the top.

His answer came with a conviction that stressed a decade of thought that blew in one top. Circus’ and the planets all read a different order bringing civilised people of all cultures to a harmonious understanding. But what of the answer? Could it have so many vibrations it can change planetary life for all beings? There was to be no more argument. The howling winds died down.

The ocean swept across the shore like brushes over a drum. The sun and moon collaborated in a place called Zion. The ostrich laid an egg, which speckled the starry skies.



Alone in a beer bottle two children sat discussing the how’s and whys of life. It was not that they knew any more than anyone else did, it was just something to do with the green bottle in which they dwelled. Just as they were reaching some kind of conclusion, the bottle moved.

The person who was minding the bar had picked it up off the shelf; he was called Dwight inappropriately.“Please don’t forget the straws!” said the elderly gentleman who also used to reside in the bottle when he was a child. Once the bottle was opened five bubbles rose into the air.

The bubbles were filled with the finest sunsets ever seen. The old man swiftly drank his beer then left, leaving a buck for his drink. Strange how he knew wasn’t it? That the cat ‘K’ was only a mouse disguised as a lamb. “The mint sauce was what gave it away!” interrupted the old man.



The oceans were frosted over with caramel this evening I heard the radio announcer say. I was more than a little confused to see this again on television because then I knew that it was true. To freeze over with caramel, I could hardly believe my eyes.

It was not exactly as it seemed” replied the stranger; travelling in the same direction and on the same bus.

Oh yes” replied the old woman, she knew what she was on about,

There was definitely no mistake I saw it myself the seas are frosted with caramel.”

The young man introduced himself as Jack he was on his way to join the army up in Canada and did not want to talk with this woman about such strange happenings, still the little old woman continued to bleat on about the phenomena that she was sure she had witnessed this morning.

Jack was puzzled and while the woman was asleep, he changed seats. He sat down to be greeted with...