Wednesday, November 30, 2011


Standin' here smokin'
Like I'm somethin'
Staring at a solemn moon
For a moment this
Storm subsides
Calm rushes in
Like all good things
I feel it crashing to its end.  

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Patrice O'Neal died yesterday.  Twitter told me so.  I couldn't put a face to his name, but a Youtube search jogged my memory of the comic's performances on Comedy Central, specifically the roast of Charlie Sheen.

I chose to view a CBSNews.com broadcast.  As the narrating reporter summarized highlights from O'Neal's career, details of his life, what it had been, and the circumstances of health surrounding it's finale, I drifted away.  

I heard the tone of lie's in the reporter's voice, I didn't need to see his eyes.  The facts were facts.  True, undeniable, unarguable facts.  The piece was written to be informative, as good journalism should be.  The narrator's voice though, it was a trained pacification.  It was a lullaby to the general public, a cue that their emotions should mourn, ever so slightly as his had.  He spoke with underlying empathy.  It was a conjured sorrow though - one that he had practiced in the bathroom mirror, in front of his wife.  "Does this sound sincere?" he would obsess to her.  Her reply, an appeasing, coldly insincere, "Yes."

He reported the true news with emotive lies.  Before he had been assigned to read this story with his just-so voice, he had not known who Patrice O'Neal was.  This was his career; pretending that he cared.

But it was just another man.  Just another dead man.  He forgets that some day he too will be just another dead man.

I know this to be true because he forgets to drop the about-to-cry intonation as he signs off, pouting - "Ken Lombardi, CBSNews.com."

Inquire within.
The answer to every question
Comes only from inside. 

Monday, November 28, 2011


Today is one month
Past my twenty-ninth birthday
Eleven months
Until my thirtieth.
Three decades.
I'm satisfied with
All I've done so far.
I haven't known
Where I've been going
But what is it to be lost,
When the entire universe
Welcomes you home?
Even in the lack of illumination,
When you're lost in the
Depths of the forest
And this tree looks
Like that tree
And moss grows to the north
But who's to say which
Direction is best,
Wandering is more
Like exploration
Than being aimlessly lost,
Being lost is clinging to a fear
Of today's here,
Being gone; the fear of change.
The paralyzing trepidation
That the next step you take
Will be with foot planted
On eroding ground
And every inch of progress
That lies behind
Will be abandoned
You can't stop traveling though,
Unless you should actively
Assume responsibility
For terminating your journey
Because the jagged rocks
Have destroyed your sole
Or because you can't bare
The constant unknown
The unpredictable predictability
Or that day after day
It all still looks the same
It continues until
Your feet will no longer carry you.
Then the expedition is done.  

Friday, November 25, 2011


We are the voice
Of one
The one who cries out
In the wilderness
In the barren,
Voiceless land,
Stifled, muffled for
Far too long
Collectively we cry
In sackcloth and ashes
In unison our words arise
We call forth the land
To grow and nourish
To prosper and flourish
Our desperation yields
Bountiful rivers
Teeming with life
Our insistence sows
Fields of inspiration
We harvest out of necessity.

Thursday, November 24, 2011

I hate the letter 'A'
In it's capital form
It's how they misspell
My name
Every time.  

Wednesday, November 23, 2011


Isaiah's Lament
I am the voice
Of one who
Cries out from the
Wilderness
Calling an end to
Infertility
Calling out for the rain
Crying, wailing for
Life, for growth
Weeping for
The reaping
When nothing's
Been sown
Yearning for change
I am the voice
Of one who
Cries out
Alone from the
Wilderness,
Come alive,
Stop being dormant,
This is not the time
For docility,
Rise up,
Prepare ye the way,
Forge ahead,
Lay the ground,
I am the voice of one
Where there is none,
Sending forth a cry;
From the wilderness
Awaken from your slumber,
Hear with your ears
See with your eyes
They're only closed;
You're not blind.
Corral your fears
Leave them behind.
I am the voice of one
Crying "Freedom",
From the wilderness
Shake the chains,
Break the fetters
Stand up on weak legs
Build them to be strong
Make no allowance
For hindrance
Come forth and create
Bloom in your expression
Come forth and dance
Come forth and live
In this very moment
I am the voice of one
Calling out
From the wilderness
A rally for change
Not Obama's vision of change,
But the people's
The breaking of status quo
Disposing old notions
Embracing healing
Throw out your laurels
Be reborn
I am the voice of one
Crying out
From the wilderness
You are enough
You are beautiful
You are capable
Arise from nothing
Compose yourself to
Be something
I am the voice of one
Crying out
From the wilderness
Shed your duress,
If you need to leave
Start planning your egress
Embrace your own being
Know it, grow it,
Never let it go
In forfeit or for profit.
I am the voice of one
Crying out
From the wilderness. 

Tuesday, November 22, 2011


Bar half empty
Beer half full
I step away for a moment
While they seize the opportunity
Two fruit flies
Lonely in the night
It only takes a few sips
He feels right
And she's starting to look fine
I return to find them
Mid-Coitus on the rim of my pint,
I let them drown in their own passion.
A steamy night
Beneath the glowing neon lights. 

Monday, November 21, 2011


Conditioned instincts
I cower and hide
From all, because they
Are mine; the fear
The anticipation and the pessimism
I keep them caged, locked up tight
I misplaced that key
Weeks and months
And years ago,
In a place I'm not sure of,
Fettered and bound
Until it can be found
Or an explosion blows the lock
Off the prison in my soul.

Friday, November 18, 2011


Notes to Former Lovers

Even if I was "straight"
I still wouldn't fucking date YOU.
Asswad.

The thought of you
Laying next to me
Turns my stomach.

Your kiss was
Wet
And thick, fat,
Your tongue, bulbous
Your saliva , sticky.
I nearly vomited
In your mouth. 

I know I'm a
Better lover
Than you had
Expected I'd be,
But please,
Stop calling me.

So aesthetically
Appealing
Paper thin beauty
That passes, even now,
Away.

I liked your bedroom style,
But if you want more
I need to see your
Tongue go wild. 

Your eyes were
Lovely and
Mannequin. 
Empty. 
(like your soul).

I would lavish you
With love, if I
Could only
Remember
How. 

Your were a shell of
What should have,
Could have, and
Never would be.

Why can't you accept
The beauty of our sex?
The delightfulness of our love?
I miss your breasts.  

Thursday, November 17, 2011


She always reminded me
Of a woman at the bar,
Too sloshed, too giddy,
Too serious about all the wrong things.
She'd tremble and shake,
Groan and moan,
Foam at the mouth.
She was perceptive though.
She would look in your eyes
She could see through miles
And miles of destructive lies
Her words would cut you to pieces
Always over interested
A living martyr, ready to
Tell the lost and confused
Exactly what they should do
Her eyes would close
An oil dipped finger
Would find its way to your forehead
And she would begin to quake
Weeping would surely ensue,
Spittle forming at corners of her lips
Tongue rattling conjured sounds
Through sharp crooked yellow teeth -
Bracelets and bangles
Clanging, her arms still convulse,
Heavy with a burden of
Giving birth to a new spirit.
She labors in vain,
Because I am a miscarriage
Waiting in the wings.
There would be a gentle touch
On your shoulder
Pushing you further,
His hand awaiting your fall,
Anticipating your great
Supposed awakening.
She's like an Energizer bunny,
She just won't stop until
Your knees give out
You find yourself on the floor
As she looms above you,
Still quivering 'in the spirit'.
My spirit won't be still
In the shadow of her clamor.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

There's an antidote
To the poison in your mind,
It's just difficult to find.
What are you so scared of?
Look yourself in the eye
Take a good look in the
  mirror of your soul
Find your reflection,
In every moment of everyday;
Examine it, relate it, and
  then embrace it,
The good, the bad, the ugly.
You are strong,
  find your strength.
You are lovely,
  seek your love.
Love yourself, deeply,
Because you are worth loving.  

Tuesday, November 15, 2011


Everything seems
To be frozen in time
When the wind won't move
And the silence won't break. 

Monday, November 14, 2011


The Death and Resurrection of an Artist

Visions at night
In my mind
Of myself crucified,
My back falls against
A wooden slab
Iron nails through
My outstretched hands
My blood sanctifies
My own soul
Forgiveness
Advice ringing in my head
Squeezing like a vice
Defenseless to gravity
My body rips as they
Shove my post into the ground
Gravity tears me down
My flesh rips, pain grips
Redemption
I see through it
Because I need this
I need to die
But it is not my end
No, this is where I begin,
Rise again
Three days late
Like a crocus in early spring
Only after I've wrestled
My devils, fought a fierce fight
Draining my might
I rise like a phoenix from the ash
Reincarnate
Like a caterpillar metamorphasized
Emerge from my cocoon
I won't alter my truth for the sake your altar. 

Friday, November 11, 2011

11:11 11/11/11


It's 11:11
And I'm making
My wish
The same every
Day and night
Another dream
Fleeing fantasy
To be the one
Who weaves
Your every desire
Into a web of
Pristine beauty
To be the one
Holding you tight
Through nocturnal flights
The only one crossing your mind
The one who gives you butterflies
The one worth your time and heart
I close my eyes
Make my wish
For a forever shared with you. 

Thursday, November 10, 2011

From the moment I arrived
I was able to derive the truth
Hidden beneath your lies
It became how I survived
Now I've reached the surface
And I'm ready to begin
Which path do I take
When they're all different?
I start to panic

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Into the building
She led the search
Left hand against the wall
Crawling on all fours

A set of irons in
A leather gloved hand
My other on her ankle,
I follow

Clearing a first floor
Climbing to a second
Smoke getting thicker
Light getting sparer

Breathing heavy
Our tanks run low
Still we sweep, and
She shouts "Window!"

A voice of command
Breaks through the bustle
Seven-Zero-One to primary search
Pull out, fire below!

Her hand leaves the
Wall and she can't see
It's up to me
To lead my team.

Her left becomes right
Because its dark as night
Smoke floods her vision
She panics without sight

We can hear the LT's shouts,
'Move out', 'move out'
I find her hand and
Connect it to my boot,

Lead her to the stairs
To get us out of there
Our air pack alarms start to ring
We're running out of time

She follows me down
The stairwell we had climbed
Relieved to find
We're still alive

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Misery is a personal
Belonging
Clung to tightly
Like a toddler with a
Teddy bear
Contentment found
Only in persistent
Active discontent
Freedom's a choice
So are these chains
Like a swine
Wallowing in its own waste
Unable to resist
Dirty field trips
Through an evil brain

Monday, November 7, 2011


And she can't see
That this isn't the biggest part of me
Just a fraction,
Like diffracting light
Many pieces make the whole
See, I'm not everything you'd expect

Friday, November 4, 2011

I try to hide
From the truth
Screaming out
From inside
Dying to get out
Living a lie
Putting a pillow
Over the sleeping
Head of my soul
Muffling my voice
To a mumbled whisper
Nearly impossible to hear
Because I can't handle
What may come next
Staying on this path
Laid with blocks of deceit
As strong as if they were concrete
Waiting like quick sand
To swallow me at my next step
And I find I've become hollow
Unable to hear the background noise
With cotton stuffed ears
Believing what I perceive
But I've got tunnel vision
My peripheral escapes my sight
Trying to hide in shadows
And the dimness of night
Alongside the other
Vagabond souls
All terrified of the light,
We slip we lose our grip
Falling with every sigh.  

Thursday, November 3, 2011

This is a masquerade
Men and women merely players
All the world's a stage
So you'll never see my face
Nor, I yours.
A sacred ritual;
It's become routine
Then there's no such thing
Less personal
Not original
Less individual
I've stopped looking for an end
Because I realize it will find me
I feel free, and I'd like to stay
Soaring as I please, or
Perching in a tree,
Don't put me in a cage
Don't set a trap for me,
Just let me be.
I have friends and I know
Where to find them and how.