Found Poem +

August 14, 2017 § Leave a comment

as the orthodoxy spews and preaches its decades old knowledge I go back to the instinctual. the infamous "they" ask me to put on a tie and coat I amble unshaven in shorts to where I want to go, huaraches slapping on concrete.

I just look and stare, take the pills they prescribe: "you'll feel better." nights of pain and thoughts of suicide scare me awake. on my back adjusting to darkness and slivered light and moon shadows, then deep appreciation of what I have lived. sitting up, legs dangling into black I hear Rosie breathing, Tristan gaming, Aidan studying a film. I see Jonas reading trends as they spike and drop in his office, the glare off the laptop onto his face reflecting on his glasses in reds and green blips.

before long I think back to childhood, music, words, movies. back to unorthodoxy. herbs and shaman cure scenes, charms and salves, teas from British bands and coffee wraps tight on my feet as a shivering fever kept me awake like now. My mother always there, sitting in the dark. I always got better. placebo or not, I always got better. I will get better again. It is in my story, my tri-cultural build, my homegrown optimism, my being. it's who I tell myself I am. & until this fragile shell returns to it's mysterious beginnings I will keep it up and not give in.

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The Joys of Sunday

April 30, 2017 § Leave a comment

The joys of Sunday are like Wednesday for some. Monday for others. The joy of Sunday. 

Every other day’s the same. Sun up moon down. Arguments and loving words none. Or some days words again: one and arguments are none. The joys of Sunday.

Is it the coolness of the evening or the sweating Tuesdays as the dew builds between your legs? The joy of Sunday’s all the same to Thursday or Saturday. The joys of Sunday stays the same. 

Tamarind, strawberries or coconut milk sweet. Plastic wrappers and the thin thin wood stick. The joys of Sunday. 

Murusa

February 2, 2017 § Leave a comment

woke up with crumbs. from Felicitas, the holidays, yesterday’s bbq, Rosie. scattered everywhere between Star Wars sheets, the pieces hard rock, tiny granulated feelings. how long between cotton, silk, heavy and feathery warmth and sweat. how long? 

handcuffed by a dream to let go. afraid of everything and nothing. posturing for help. left ambiguous, alone in the sand. granulated rock again. crumbs scattered by time, wind, pain and guilt hidden by small talk and the same stories told over and over, blanketing nostalgia 
suffocating any true feelings. so long ago. 

&, still, all that’s left are crumbs. translation lost in the murmurings. the tiny murusas speaking in tongues back to Tayoltita, Tijuana, black and white memories walking in stripes, her hand ’round my back, her secret signal whistling as we look straight ahead, a seer and apprentice through tiny modulated pieces.

Words

November 27, 2016 § Leave a comment

Giants fight, swinging at clouds.

Molecular holes pierce through blue

body punches and upper cuts at once.

What sounds will wince as cars and buses,

trucks and city scripture crush

under the weight of falling body.

 

Underground words by rail or chant

cross country to protectors and

protesters, Shaman and trickster.

Wizarding worlds of fictitious futures

stuck in their past, unable to remain in

the present for more than a soundbite.

 

This is the what is of now we see,

the way of social solitude and global

individualism, as we all share alone.

Blog-Thought: Unlocking

October 8, 2016 § Leave a comment

lock.JPG

Can’t sleep sometimes. Maelstrom thoughts. Breathe. Darkness to a tiny glob of light sliding down my chest. From my toes up to my legs, back up. Left shoulder, right. Still can’t sleep. 3 or 6 more times.

20 minutes later I get up and walk outside. A beautiful early morning darkness. Stars lined-up, pointing to eternity. Constellation to constellation. Ancient Greek heroines and magical beasts pose and charge. Their breath touches me. The coolness tickles my skin.

Breathe. Walk under the ficus, listen to the music of quietest day when most are still asleep. Maybe not. Maybe they can’t sleep, either. The lock has opened. Another deep breath: deeper.

Go back inside. Something woke you, brought you back from restlessness. Back to now. Back to being. Back to living life.

 

A Boost of Good Vibes

September 19, 2016 § Leave a comment

93 degrees. Beenie and plugs server. Nice guy. After a few words made me feel grateful to have been given the privilege of living in the 21st Century where pretentiousness and disingenuousness are more and more scorned by more and more people. His boss should give him a raise. Not just for better than average customer service, but for treating people as people should.

The gap between age and status feels like it is shrinking at this particular moment. The Internet’s pulling globalization, forcing reality to speak to those not ready to listen in 1999. There are no coincidences.

More and more the signs of a changed world appear in my everyday.

Thank You

August 3, 2016 § Leave a comment

Caught myself twice today. An insignificant lack of awareness. Have seen it for years. Two times in one day. Caught myself viscerally. Could of hit a mother and her baby in a stroller, smashed into that white truck because I didn’t turn my head as I swerved out of that lot. First time, first time it’s made me thankful to have noticed. Thankful for being aware. First time I see this life altering humanity not just in others.