Jul 28, 2010


boredom sets in.
segments of painted lines
turn from
yellow to white
solid to broken to double solid.
radio stations break on the beach
i scan the ripples repeatedly.
the web produces no relief
status updates keep me in a lull
silence follows a text sent to a friend
attention moves
to the outside world
i stare out the semi tinted window
peak into the mobile homes
of fellow travelers.
i wonder what's going on in their universe.

Jul 25, 2010


does not make it
to the paper screen iris.
it is not what you read
or listen to from mouth to ear.
it sits
hovers an inch from the poem
in between the lines
and molecules of a breath.
poetry resides in the unsaid
lurks around corners
and waits for the audience
to feel its presence.

Jul 18, 2010

A Note

What gets you by? Everyone has their way (or vice) to get through life, the work week, the weekend, drama, and the many voices in your head. Years ago, during my playing with fire stage, I melted a crayon with a lighter. A drop of color landed on the window sill and it fascinated me. It reminded me of paint and the color glowed. A couple of months ago I bought a box of crayons and a pack of canvas boards. I've been experimenting with color combinations, melting techniques, and avoiding burning my hair from the heat from the oven. These experiments have unleashed a wave of creativity and I look forward to the next time a crayon liquefies. I'm on a path of finding what makes me happy, what gets me by, and I noticed most of these things come from my childhood; when life was "care free". We use various activities to escape reality and it allows us to shake the weight of the world off our shoulders. Like everything there is a flip side. A problem arises when the thing that gets you by morphs into something that stops you from getting ahead. Life has sense of humor.

under construction

i walk the earth with eyes of a newborn
the cynic speaks from time to time
we've constructed an elaborate fantasy
realities that cater to our egos
make us feel safe
in a package of bubble wrap
riding the wind of the cyclone
it is forgotten the at the core
it is still a ride
dipping high and low
meant to be enjoyed with laughs and tears.
time confuses the senses
events wreaks havoc on time
a baby enters a room
and for a brief second
we remember what it's really about
then life breaks the thought
and it's back to business of the usual.

Jul 16, 2010

still animals

instincts stay dormant
but surface when we become
unaware of ourselves
the truth speaks
and the animal within
overtakes the human.
in packs
we roam
display bright colors.
the mask protects
the smile disappears until
strangers pass and leave us
to our comfortable surroundings.

Jul 11, 2010

the hope

one day
years later
a situation will present itself
pin you to the mat
suffocate your desires and strength.
it will treat you like a rag doll
clenched in the hands of a dead man
stifle your thought process.
in the midst of this crisis
the energy and wisdom
of those who shaped your life
will navigate you through the storm.
and the hope
is that you take the time
to pass words with the youth
so they
can find calm waters
years later
when clouds form and thunder rumbles.

Jul 7, 2010

thirty year war

to win.
love and hate
must be kept close.
lines blur in the fog
but the line to the heart
should be tied tight to yours.
listen to the voices,
the faint echo
speaks the truth.
it repeats itself
until the mind
reads the lips of the mouth.
do not rely on alliances,
friend fold when it really counts.
this war
must start and end with you.

Jul 4, 2010

nigga i am

my admission is my skin tone.
i don't need to
sport the gear
you imagine.
i am
the attitude confidence
that is feared admired.
the bag stays in pocket
for its contents to be exposed.
i am
the nightmare.
many more
follow the path of
clarence and hussein.