Uploaded December 2008 | Updated September 2026, 2 hours ago
(Poem Text below)
A poem written and narrated by Spadecaller; "Smoke Rings" is about the escape of a political prisoner during the Vietnam War. It is accompanied by pan flutist, Gheorge Zamfir's recording of "The Lonely Shepherd. This video makes a statement about illegal and unconstitutional imprisonment, political prisoners, and unjust internment of detainees in prison camps.
Smoke Rings
Tracked by the Feds I lived in a tomb
No night, no day, above a dingy barroom
From the profiteers of Nam I had fled
Leaving Kent States four now buried and dead.
From Nixons black bag a sharp dagger bore
My name marked threat to their dirty war.
Before the break of dawn torn from my frenzied sleep
By gunpoint bound they drove me down a darkened street.
With forged records they hauled me off and away
And behind locked doors they left me there to stay.
The long days passed my spirit near broke
Aloft puffed rings of hot cigarette smoke.
One morning early a young priest came
Without warning he whispered my full name.
I know your whole story say no more
We have a plan to get you past this prison door.
The next day an imposter took me past that gate.
Aboard a freight train I rode until the sunset late.
To my nameless countryman I waved good-bye.
At the Vermont border crossing under a starry sky.
(Poem Text below)
A poem written and narrated by Spadecaller; "Smoke Rings" is about the escape of a political prisoner during the Vietnam War. It is accompanied by pan flutist, Gheorge Zamfir's recording of "The Lonely Shepherd. This video makes a statement about illegal and unconstitutional imprisonment, political prisoners, and unjust internment of detainees in prison camps.
Smoke Rings
Tracked by the Feds I lived in a tomb
No night, no day, above a dingy barroom
From the profiteers of Nam I had fled
Leaving Kent States four now buried and dead.
From Nixons black bag a sharp dagger bore
My name marked threat to their dirty war.
Before the break of dawn torn from my frenzied sleep
By gunpoint bound they drove me down a darkened street.
With forged records they hauled me off and away
And behind locked doors they left me there to stay.
The long days passed my spirit near broke
Aloft puffed rings of hot cigarette smoke.
One morning early a young priest came
Without warning he whispered my full name.
I know your whole story say no more
We have a plan to get you past this prison door.
The next day an imposter took me past that gate.
Aboard a freight train I rode until the sunset late.
To my nameless countryman I waved good-bye.
At the Vermont border crossing under a starry sky.
