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. 

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.

 

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.

Summer Travelling 

July 23, 2016 § Leave a comment

Time has stopped still. Thought this phenomenon was gone from my over educated world view. And all from a dream.

It has been decades.

The truck full with people: strangers, men, women, family. My passions and fears within the dream symbolically. Who am I comes with morning analysis. Where am I the deconstructed plot. Asking others for help. The police, truck driver, a beautiful accented young woman after expaining her slangy patois with a laugh. All cinematically stylized. Ethereally lit. No one could help. Had to figure it out alone.

Lost, moving forward non dream like, investigating. Traffic, filmshoots closing streets. The end lost. No fear felt, no anxiety caused, just the reappearing self in a soft palette world.

Time has stopped just like when I was a kid on summer vacation. Just like now. Being replaced by doing is the magic. Total acceptance of time and place and living. It’s great to have this power back. Why now? Doesn’t matter. Glad to feel like a kid. Appreciative of being allowed a return. Hope I can stay here a long time.

Film School

May 25, 2016 § Leave a comment

Film School

Took a while to fight the mind away from the disconnect.

The pan of not feeling while feeling it all too much: an extreme close-up in sharpest focus.

Double fuge tone deaf, pleasing the critics with a soundtrack of life not understood. Balls, strikes, ads and silent casting all in one. A solo performance stolen by methotrexate down by three. Non linear cut and paste.

It took awhile to fight the film school mind. It’s all on the editing room floor.

In the end I always get final cut.

 

My Body Back

January 30, 2016 § Leave a comment


Beginnings. Where do they come from? They aren’t new. Beginnings come from somewhere, of something. The before is natural. Already there. From where does the start start? How can anything begin from nothing?

Genuinely realizing this paradox sets things free. Recent blockbuster reboots and deaths of musical and artistic heroes lined up a kind of forced perspective while an anomalous case of the 21st century flu pushed me into the gap and shivered my body back from its egoic nebulousness.

Back to the body, the organic conception (this is where things start). Back to where life ended to begin anew. Resurrected.

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