We Ran This World

Where do we go from this point in which

we sit so miserably, facing each other

gracelessly, because of the lack of remembrance

of a time, when we stood atop a buried hill

at some ocean-side piece of land,

more hidden than what was shared

at that moment in time?

A carelessness that was more beautiful than you could ever know.

A lack of direction that put two on a podium

causing ire by everyone who stared.

We loved it: A final year to parade atop the world.

Wind blew your hair to pieces

that won’t leave my mind,

until you die, or I forget,

neither will occur.

Paloma

A tradition of Siena goes for centuries.

Perhaps, a quintessential Italian grape.

The limey clay it springs from

makes it just right for the first course.

Some detect a note, but I often catch the elusive apple,

Made to keep intact,

One of the most seductive of the year:

an aroma and flavor suggestive of an early May morning.

We Are Not Yet Free

And I begin with the eyes of a man

So broken, so tired!

From his feet, torn up from the marching of the distance

Necessary for respect, to his lips, that he slaps his tongue across to wet them,

To get more voice to keep speaking.

For this man loves another man, but to you he’s a sinner?

When do you draw the line between a murderer of a human and a lover of another?

I’ll do it now to keep distinction between the hurtful and the amorous.

This man, is not yet free to do what he wants. 

20 Years

Two people hid

under a desk for twenty years,

while the sun snuck and shined

the truth up against

their faces. Painted in red,

they continued into the closet.

Soundproofed, their mouths

made no noise in the long run.

But for nearly as long as we slept,

they were forced to stare at the flash,

to look over their backs,

until the next day,
when they disguised each other.

With Me Next Time

Something of a dark green leaves and branches hanging level with my face.
I don’t move to avoid them, but I soak in the visual.
For these moments come so sparingly.
Son, I feel the rain falling this Winter,
and boy am I thirsty.

So, bring on the fog and dew.
A jacket, so warm, can only bring such comfort.
“I miss you,” I told her, as the sky fell outside.
We stay inside for the warmth,
But outside is where
I want to be standing. With you,
I want to
run far for life.
For us, for you.
“You’ll be with me next time I go outside”

The Morning and Dreadful Night

Tell me something I’ve never heard of,
And take me away to somewhere I’ve never been,
Because this sounds like something I faced long ago.
Something I’ve already done and
I’ve already turned away from. You: not the peace
I seek right now. You
Only exhibit what can be seen there.
Maybe this is all too much to ask for.
You cannot be seen here. Lying like this
I will surely fall asleep.
I will fly to somewhere, some place
Where the clouds hover. I am free
To fly around when I dream. Is this charming experience
Only to last until morn?

Monotone Mentality

There's something on fire over that mountain,
I don't care.

I had a needle stuck in my arm today,
I just don't care.

I've got chores around here that I could be doing,
But I don't care.

I hear my phone ringing, new missed call,
I don't care.

This probably isn't a very good poem,
I just don't care.

No one's ever gonna read this,
But I don't care.

Let Me Go.

So now I remember what it was I saw in the rear view mirrors:
The entry way into a summer season brought about by dusk skies and silhouettes of trees.
Oh, get me out of here.
Out of this place!
For I've heard of some place across the pond,
It’s got to be better than what we’ve got right here,
And trust me, we’ve got it good.
A place where people live lacking pride, but smiles are abundant.
A place where freedom is not mentioned, but practiced.
A place once riddled with oppression,
A place now riddled with freedom.
It's never gonna come together.
Clouds overlooking forests full of cottages and wonder.
Let it snow.
Let's hide our bodies away from harm
And grasp one another.
No one can find us here
Among the trees.

I will always love you.

Nothing like this.
This single moment.
Stresses.Pain.Money.
Gone.

A summer only beginning,
A song that never dies,
A feeling special.
We live for moments like this,
Like we live for excitement,
To forget all that we know and are surrounded by.
To feel every ounce lifted.
To write it out after it all.

I love this all,
This Earth,
The music,
The peace,
My phone to write this into.
All in one instance, it clicks.
God, the night has never been so pretty.

Somewhere in Sunset Beach

A man walking lonely on a dark pathway,
Along an even darker ocean.
The land around here does little to protect its own,
But does anywhere?
The water so black, except for what you can see around the piers.
The radio plays on with songs that seem to fit the mood, the drive, the time.
It's hard to describe the peace that's found,
While driving in a car with millions of little parts in it,
All fighting for each other at 100 miles per hour.
So, I'll just say that the peace found was new,
Exciting!
Wondrous!
And every other calming word that can be used to describe a night beach drive...

It was a different world, wasn't it?

A yard full of wonder and a wall that was amazing.
I grew up in the land of Camelot
And my friends did too.
I could observe the countryside from wherever I stood,
And never did I fear what was to come ahead.

An exhibiting imagination.
The world was what we wanted it to be.
But inhibiting education,
Only ended our dreams.

I'll always have memory of where I grew up.
Around 3 years old,
Sesame Street,
And 1970's New York.
City.
A colorful time,
When puppets called Muppets reigned,
And not everything had to educate.

Lone

There's something so somber about open roads and early mornings.
Your only friends are the cars that speed past you
And the shining reflectors stuck to the pavement.
The same songs play on the radio,
The lights in the distance never get any closer.

"It's not a good life, the life of a trucker," they say.
But life is life, and their way is the highway, the long way, the hard way.
Who are we to say how they must live?
I can't.
No one can.

"The Tide is High on 14th Street"

What is this? A summer time of epic proportions?
Oh, I laugh to hear this.
We were so free. When we swung our fists to a slow beat.
The rhythm found in our hearts. You did not believe me then.
Some early 2000 year, a guitar in one hand, imagination in the other.
If only we could recreate the magic that was inspired.
If only we could show the world what we’re really made of.
If only we could have had the right tools.
If only we weren’t so afraid.
If only I wasn’t so afraid,
The world could know what we’re made of.

The Sword in the Stone

There's something you're trying to tell us,
Something you're trying to convey.
The sun is dying at the end of May
And we have only cold in our futures.
Where could we be headed?
To some far away land?
Of 3D clouds and castles alike.
Hidden among endless forests of trees
And rain.

Perhaps we should run away behind the walls of the city.
There is something about this place.
The trees stand so tall,
The mountain and fog, along with the smell of pine,
So abundant.
There are hidden houses and gardens back here.
I would like to live here,
Behind these city walls.

Something of Ann Arbor,
Tied in with the air of the Kingdom.
There is little peace where I come from,
But there is no peace without knowledge,
And right now I cannot read you.
Your message is not clear,
But it's beautiful.

Africa

Where are we?
In Cape Town?

No.

It's just Pasadena.

Replace the view of ocean with freeways,
The stadium with a bowl,
The rain with snow.
Deserts are just the same.
Switch diversity with culture,
Hills for a flat top.
You know, I've never been to Cape Town, or Africa for that matter,
But I'm sure the colors shine brighter along with the stars and the moon.
I bet they have more fun there,
Learn more,
And feel free.
Africa, I long to come to you to be wild
And see all that life can offer out of country and out of mind.

It would later rain that day

If it rains today,
and only today,
I will be the happiest boy, man, son, child.
Let the waterflow fall from the overpacked nimbus
And let it come over me like a true love, or a subtle look.
Let the peace overtake me,
And strangle me!
And hold me tight,
And capture me!
I want you, I want this.
I don't want to be the man who crosses the street before the light turns green.

It would later rain that day, to the amazement of others,
And I realized that we take it for granted when others stop at red lights.

Smiles on Forest Lawn Drive

At gate 8/gate7,
I stop to write about the freedom adventure through the city's aboretum,
Or what's left of it.
I am blown away by the music, it hovers around me,
and the open windows, and how adoring this all is and has become.
I am with a beautiful woman who teaches me something everyday.
And I learn all this on the other side of the hill,
The Hollywood sign: a black and white indicator of a black and white difference.
A difference of noise and peace,
And though I love the noise,
I want the peace,
This peace that has been instilled inside of me today, tonight, my life.
Let's go home tonight and cherish the moment that has now passed,
A ride home through the noisy peaceful city.
This is brilliance,
This world,
This life.

Kill me for a lack of better cliches.

One rose and half of a candy heart.
One quitter, one believer.
The end of a battery, the security savior.
Seas of tearful water.
Wants and needs colliding.
A drive because we had to, but was later needed.
A false scare of mountain lions,
The exhange of thank you's.
A realization that not a single flower, let alone a rose, stood along that street,
Except for the spot where we shut the engine off,
Battled,
Then became winners because of your fight, your want.
A definite lack of perfection.

We sat there as children, with one side collapsing.
A belief, or lack of one, that I cannot succeed just yet.
I may not be ready.
But I saw in your words, your fight, your truth,
How something great can become magic.

Thank you, my dear, for giving up a fight when all there was inside of me was quit.
I did not think that I was ready.
You deserved not a single tear, let alone a scare, a frown.

You will grow up with me, hand in hand, and we will take on this scary world together.

75974

A dirty little shit,
Full of the scum of the Earth.
Where the protectors attack you
And the heroes save only your money.
A Texas town with an Oklahoma name.
Caddo, they tell me, is far too spiritual for them, too intelligent, too cultured.

Where do you turn when your authority robs you?
Going 36 might ruin your life.
They think they are walking justice.
Take some of your confiscations, relax.
Not the money stupid, the drugs.
The ones you don’t have.
The ones you look for.
Four square miles of the scum of the Earth.
Scum of the Earth!

You can almost feel the ocean.

I get to watch you sleep as time eases by slowly.
Sometime in the future, will I think this all went by too fast.
Remember that.
But for now I can taste it, touch it, breathe it in.
I can take in every second.
There's something special going on around here.
I am lucky, peaceful, grounded.
Oh, how I lay here in awe.
Lucky. Peaceful. Grounded.

I Want It to Be True

It's only the same routine tomorrow that you did yesterday.
And today you awake to a challenge of motivation.
Potentially great. Potentially distant.
Forgotten.

Does anyone even watch the stoplights anymore?

We just follow the car in front of us when it begins the process of motion.
The process we struggle with.

And could I write as long as time continued?
Well, sure, I'd love to go.
But how far will I get this way? How far?
Is there a path that continues on through my method of record keeping?
Oh, would you snap out of it?
This is life after all and all of what you are.
No, these are lies. You have not seen what you will become.

Seventeen

Isn't the sky more beautiful with stars in it?
Or maybe just the lights on the hill?
It's just cold enough on this late March night.
The kind of cold that just feels good flowing through your hair, through your body.
Just beautiful enough for me to be reminded of how lucky we are,
How gorgeous the night is,
To enjoy this slow drive home.
I'm goin' 35 but it feels like 10.
And I'm just watching the leaves dance around my windshield from the front to the back.
And almost on cue the jazz ends, the song ceases it's melody, the engine stops, I am home.

New Orleans Square

And somewhere hidden behind the facades dance chimney sweeps atop the roofs.
There's something magical there if you keep going,
But I cannot continue tonight.
I can only admire what you hold the potential to be.
Somewhere hidden.
Goodbye beautiful facade, I'll never know the beauty you possess.
You were nothing more than a hope of a dream.

Coastal Postal

Suddenly I hear nothing,
And the rhythm joy enters my ear canals.
It sings its way through my nervous system
And exits into my brain as it explodes into tiny pieces of music.
I am overcome with a vibrant sensation of notes and melody.
Look how far we have come.
We seem to never run out of luck.
A beach city still seems so far away.
I don't know exactly where it is,
But it's not here.
It just gets farther away with every miserable footstep you take up that staircase.

Fish Sandwich and the Sports Section

I owe you.
It took a real artist to find the beauty hidden in the desert.
It's almost right there in front of you, if you look hard enough,
But it took the right person to unleash it.
And all this green and jazz just seems to fit here.
Soft floating sounds and noises fill the air with peace.
Pasadena, I am your friend.
Fill me with peace.
You're lacing the desert with water.
You keep us at ease.

I'm Lost Somewhere in Delaware

I'm stopped here,
And this car's parked terribly.
I see lights up the road.
Are they coming to get me?

And who would've thunk it?
Castle walls on the side of a freeway.
A mystical forest full of wonder.

Oft do bees play on my windshield,
And oft do boys play soccer on abandoned parking lots.

Suicide Forest

West Tokyo, Japan.
A cold, early day in an even colder January.

Full of trees, this destination is never sought for pleasure, but for pain.
Good, my dear friend, you've left us for good.
Desperate and unidentified, you see no path to continuance.
Taro, where will you go? Why must you leave?
Your mind is the foundation your life is based on.
Use it.
But you see no path to continuance.
It must cease. All. Everything.
You bought a one-way ticket to the forest,
And in this forest burn trees for miles.
The dead are never found.
The officials fear more deaths.
Promises spent on 20 percent less.
But they don't care about you.

Built up inside, you want to die?
Or do you just want it all to get better?
Burn the forests down!
Burn the forests!
Burn everything that stands in your way.
Both you Taro, and Japan.

Save the trouble, and the trip.
Please Taro, please.
You will be missed,
Whether you go missing in the forest,
Or because we have finished talking.

Pacoima Love Letters

We lost some soul today.
Events that have occurred have now been erased.
Stories shared are now oil based, but not beautiful.
The factories have been overtaken by men who do no work.
"It's a shame," the man said.
His words were true.
This poetic masterpiece has been taken from us.
It's being held captive in one mans mind.
This beauty may never be seen again.

Hey Virga, Cheer Up

Hurry, hurry and catch up!
The cloud has been abandoned.
It did not want to continue on.
We must save it before it falls behind the hills and it is lost forever.
We can still repair it but it all gets blurry.
Where are the other clouds off to?
They float away to a better place.
To sit along the coast,
Over the water,
Where they are collecting,
Where all the clouds flock to.
To express.
For freedom.
To do what they do best without hurting anyone.

Hey abandoned, you've got the wrong idea.

Peace I Will

Stop there.
You've no place to go, have you realized?
And the timer runs out.
Your eyes start to water.
You stare in desperation
But where am I going?
I've landed here,
On this island,
And I intend to stay.
Don't worry about me dear.
I've got my own back here.
Stay with me and laugh, or cry.
Peace I will bring you.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Peace. Peace to you.
Today is a good day.
When millions have flocked because millions more have died.
The hands of my fathers show 40 times more wear than mine.
Yet we still struggle, but not for long.
"Today could never happen. It's just not happening."
That's what they said.
They were wrong.
This day could never happen! Not with the arsenal in their hands!

Who cares how long it lasts?
It will take just one day to be promised a future.
So let it last a lifetime!
And never forget the first black leader of this rugged nation.
Celebrate achievement. 

Come Here

Can we fly away?
In front of the destruction that occurs around us.
As trees fall and cities collapse, you stand up and laugh.
Smile for me. How I love to see it.
Bring me peace.

The Rivulet

The leaves fly by tonight
And this is a dangerous time.
There's a real world outside this city of peace.
Some are lucky to see it.
We feel it occasionally.
A car crashes.
A home catches fire.
We are awaken for a second for we can't sleep through the noise,
But how we love it.
Music is terrible. Noise rings.
Shower in it.
Not in the peace, but the destruction.

Today they leveled the hills so you could see the city,
But they raised them again when you finally looked up.
The rivulet full of dangerous silt flows throughout our bodies and out through our eyes.

From inside the cabin

What are you doing?
Time to grow up.
Go do something.
Time to wake up.
There's nothing more frightening than seeing headlights on your side of the road.
I'm cool like that, cooler than this.
But where are we?
What have we done?
We're so close to the water.
I lost my sight for it, for a second.
Gone, they are, like trucks on empty highways that pinstripe the landscape of the country.
Come back to us, though we don't need you.
We've got something to live for.
Breathe it in.
Only positive from here on.
There's something so primitive in our civilizations.
We are so lucky.

The lights that gleam from inside the houses scattered atop the city hills look like the glitter gold that overflows so brilliantly over the sides of glorious treasure chests that pirates once battled against each other to possess.

The World

Sleep tonight.
The lights shut off in honor of you.
For a pillow and a dream.
The day has ceased.
So dream the night away.
Look at you.
In the glorious aftermath.
Your eyes are heavy with history.
You saw so much today.
Take it all in and sleep softly.
This is just one more for the books.

And awake!
To a picturesque day.
Where suns dance in the backgrounds of paintings of beaches and sands
And clouds calm you with silver smiles.
Musical notes are sung from the beautiful birds hovering up above
and they echo down below, where the waves crash subtly against your feet.
Hands wrapped around your heart.
The love is taken slow like the pace of wondrous forests.

I could show you a place,
Among the stars and the galaxies,
Hidden away from them.
You must excuse me, but I want you all to myself.
You see, you're something special
And I'm something selfish... tonight.

To you, from me.

You have it. You've got it.
In your arms, in your chest, in your heart, in your soul.
I gave to you something I've kept.
Locked inside of me.
My heart is in your hands, your mind, your finger tips, your lips.
You always stay close because you care so much.

Why are you so far away from here?
Oceans and lands away from me.
This fireplace trickles along with the best of us.
The music plays on with the best of us.
You heart beats along in rhythm.
I can feel it in your chest, upon mine.
I want to make you feel alive.
Like the beauty you possess.
The beauty that is so glamorous to watch.
I long for you.

You are so far away tonight.
May someone please split the world in half so I can climb around the side to see you.

And after the missing ceases,
After the longing stops,
You will finally be in my arms.

Let's run away.
To some far away place,
Among a beach and a mountain,
And lay around and stare into each others eyes.
To talk the night away until we fall deep into slumber
And touch hand to hand while we sleep softly, our faces only a fingers length away from one another.
To relax and forget.
So that when we come back
Only we will know what we did.
Our own little secret.

Intelligentsia

Fighting kids with a disbelief in each other.
Bored out of their minds.
I've got a disbelief in them.
Tired towns that lay still along the coasts and valleys.
An imaginary line splits our souls into peace and prosperity,
But we live in peace.
You must prosper.
The wrong 3 letter acronyms.
A hatred for the luckier.
The lucky are too happy to notice.
3 letter acronyms helped with that.
Where can we take you?
Somewhere that would make you happy.
Some place where the skies open up and the sun shines through.
A place where scripture is read off the back of rusted bumpers.