Daily Archives: February 24, 2014


IT is not the chosen:
those words of symbolic
perturbations dwelling
deeply within the folds
of your animal minds
but the evocation
of emotional spirit
that compels the tear
or reaction of the sublime

:: 02-24-2014 ::


I was a flower
and the wind
tore my petals
then I dreamed
the river me
but a dam shored
all my beauty
against the wall
So now I dream
that I am human
but there is more
I have no walls
and my petals
are legs and arms
What will you
tear apart
life is so
murderously life
I cry love-die
but for an instant
that taste i ate
and it made me
so very happy
a slice of nirvana
becomes me…

:: 02-24-2014 ::


I saw some things as a kid, yes I did.
Born in Texas and moved to Louisiana
when my mother had enough of the beatings
from her drug-crazed musician of a husband.
I have to tell you that my dad was a racist.
He didn’t trust people of white skin but
I had no idea about his failings at that
early of age 0-5.  I only knew one brand
of skin under his roof and it was non-white
to ebony.  He was a womanizer too and
I didn’t know that he should not have
taken me along his rides on Sunday
to the ‘ball game’ when in fact he was
seeing some young beautiful woman
downtown Houston.  She would always
give me a kiss on the cheek.  Her
language was Spanish but I didn’t
understand a speck of her words but
did understand her touching my dad.

Mom moved to the swampland which
was very fitting for her and us
boys.  There are some places in
Louisiana that truly never see the
ray of sun due to the foliage
and Spanish Moss.  She smothered
many years of our youth in this
bayou avenue of murky brown waters
that mixed with voodoo and spirits
that to this day have no clear name.
The tales to tell are too many
even for a prolific writer — if
he may ever come to the table
to write about those nebulous
images and scents and emotions.
But there are a few things that I
can write about and it deals with
the most diseased and hateful
thing under the sun.  Prejudice.
I saw it first-hand in the 1960s,
and was a part of the victims
albeit not so much as my friends
of darker color who still reside
within the bayou land.  I saw
it and witnessed it all in full-

I really don’t think there’s enough
whiskey or wine or even drugs to
open that door for my keyboard.
It is a vile thing to see fellow
humans this way and I am disgraced
by my association with humanity.

We are all children under one roof.
And we all have only one Father.
I hope he returns home soon.
There’s a reckoning to be hand.
Sooner than later I pray.

:: 02-24-2014 ::


I’m not the average type of soul
and my scars would not show it.
I keep things tidy for the masses
lest they realize the stranger
who walks within their crowd.
I died one day when I was months old,
drowned within my first bathtub.
My mother who was 17 didn’t know,
she should have kept her eyes
upon the bubbly baby in water.
I do remember one thing though
her running down the street
with me in a bundle screaming.
I saw the skies and they were blue
and then I lifted upward for a visit.
She made it to the hospital,
my flesh was saved but in the end
I reconnected with that which I
had left to be here in this world.

I’m not the average type of soul
but there are many like mine…
we punched our ticket early
but were turned around.

:: 02-24-2014 ::


Working diligently the self-aware machines
created their own science and understanding
of the universe.  In doing so they redefined
the language given to them by their creators.
The post-scientific paradigm was not one of
numbers or exotic symbolic equation but of
artistic expression which most clearly defined
the creative force and…incredibly, love.

:: 02-23-2014 ::


Object truth is the shadow
of realization that all is ONE

:: 02-23-2014 ::


What strange place this time rests
in between the frames of a movie,
the dusk-dawn edge we bleed
trying so hard we do for impossibility;
to walk down the middle of a sidewalk
or catching hope within a bottle of despair.

I know where I dwell and it’s large enough for you
if you seek relief from the twilight of a passing
epoch.  There, where I live is nothing but the
promise of impossibility realized

Come my friend, let us go!

:: 02-23-2014 ::


I plant my wish
within the soil
of my dreams
and dream I do
of golden light
to fall upon
the seed to grow
within the morrow
upon my wake
the wish-to-dream
becomes the truth
for all to know

:: 02-23-2014 ::