scrambling quickly around the ferris wheel while trying to look out and around at the passing summit only to see unlit streets and broken tambourines. riding the high not forged down to the valley between two foes. whatever comes to me now i show. put it on display with hopes that it grows into something beautiful. within me, it's little less than ephemeral. what goes up must come down must also go back up but it's sickening down to the pit of my stomach to find no altitude to make myself a home. wherever i go. wherever i go, i don't know what i want to know. some spark be it magic be it profound, dive in head first in water knee-deep. stream of consciousness not enchanting nor disenchanting like the babbling brook so often written about. a haunting presence to be read but like the divine cannot be known and only felt so too are these cards that i was dealt.  still- i feel nothing but sick by the thought of enduring on a breathless path removed from my senses. thickening of any sense or desire to progress into the darkness around, to find warmth aglow guiding the way. this way forward, walk towards me. one step forward and suddenly i can't see inward or outward, still i'm told- to carry onward. onward i must go but muddied conventions run quick and clear constitutions disappear.  there used to be places and spaces carved into stone in the jungles for those like me. sequestered from shame by not fitting a mold indistinctly so. not for a purpose, only for daft languishment fading back into the collective unseemingly so. biddings left unbalanced, dreams remain in the trenches dug by unequivocal noise surrounded by pomp and confusion. i take two bellows to fill my lungs emptied by a stampede consisting of one-only me. footsteps drumming to quicken my unbeating heart into action where none is wanted. companion of conviction resolute in distractions to pass through the present day into a land of unventured composition. befriending brutal honesty but only the brute reveals itself. masked and muted by blithe forgivings. destined for isolation made worse by longing for kinship that has long sailed away back across the atlantic into another realm colored by iridescence that no longer exists and very likely never did. there's no way for me to know though: which way these words came from or which way they'll go. so i stay entrenched; my feet wet in this unbroken stream of consciousness.

what is there left to say
when all the words i've laid
in front of you bear no meaning
we speak different languages
mine, delicate
yours, harsh

the words-
ones i scramble to find
but still can't push to you
- - -
is this where we part?

please
let me go
and let me be free
to sing my song
for those who feel
my melody

cold seeps into extremities
reminding me once again
that i'm getting older &
more intimate with frailty.
slowly but surely-
becoming the reaping of
my younger selves' sowing.
here i retreat inward
to find the soul
for the world outside
has lost its gold
that was never there.
fear fuels my nightmares
but i'm told to stay scrambling
for the light within my dreams
and the threads painted by love
to weave anew.
but the skeins stay drab
and the pastels tangled.
however will i continue
with my thoughts all mangled?

Showered with accolades-
none rightfully assigned to name.

Why cant they see me cowering
at the hand of every whim &
whimpering while unyielding
to the slightest of sense of sanity?

Maybe that then becomes
the source of their unequivocal
sound of reason
used to placate & personify
the sharp gazes of scrutiny
aimed directly at me.

maybe it's because
i changed my name
that i no longer
feel like a child.

i miss the way
you called me mija
though i'll never
admit it.

is it too late
to change it back?

the cocktail swirling in my gut
slowly dissolving to ease
body and mind
but suddenly my soul
gets enlightened and I'm queasy

it should've been
easy
but the tempest thoughts
take control and they just wont
let go

slight shift in countenance.
contempt or consternation?
up for my contemplation
swirling around in my head
like the cocktail in my gut

comes
without
warning.

like the wayward moon
and the woodwind tune,
i too fell in love with having
a life that has gone too soon

i found a little mosquito
upon my palm
and in complacence
it found refuge
suckling on my skin
getting blood-filled drink
within my view

i let it stay
much to my dismay but-
there's nowhere i've got to be
and at least here
i'm of some use
as i stare at him
getting his fill

i now was afraid
the longer it stayed
of the plagues that it carries
or even just the bite
& itch that follows

i then began to wonder
as time dauntingly drudged
what if he was killed
as a sanguine vessel-
will it then splatter
on the murderer's palm
that suddenly becomes
painted by mine
or
is he just a little mosquito
getting his fill
?

was there long before i was born
to parents who never wanted me-
let alone each other.

my sadness is the blue yarn
woven through the grey tapestry-
snaking its way in and out but
always there through it all.

my sadness is known by many names
and has been my only friend-
my only constance.

it dances with the others
that live in my head
to ease the burden
of its sister-
loneliness.
- - -
when I don't hear from them,
all I see in their place is
emptiness.

the sun shines by me
on its way
across the sky
as if to say hello
& remind me that
i have not moved.

it peeks through
the same window
that i longingly
stare for lady Luna
when she dances
with her friend
Celeste.

sparkling
in the night stage
as they illuminate
the passing clouds
that whisper
sweet chills
to each other
and down my spine.

I watch the night
madrigals pirouette
as they form legends
on their screen
while my neighbors
are fast asleep
under this glorious
machine.

what matter is it
the color of mine eyes
who open the world
with the aperture of light
and illumine all in sight

what matter is it
the size of my brain
who opens the world
with the transference of light
and the shadow of perception

what matter is it
the depth of my intellect
who opens the world
with the gravity of light
and the ability of thought

what matter are they all
who open the world
when they neglect the light
shining within my soul

a page turns
& the year passes
but with us remains
all of our compassions

so let us proceed
into the next chapter,
lest we be relieved
til we find
all that matters

when i lay awake
by the bay window
facing the ocean
that ripples the
reflection of the
moon above

i wonder why we
spend all our lives
crying false cries
at walls and lies

when we can escape
to the ocean
or the mountains
where mother earth
shows us how beautiful
she can be.

then i remember
its a luxury for
those who steal from others
or descended from thieves
that are worthy
of seeing her beauty.

the rest of us
have to settle
for the daisies
and day dreams
to remind ourselves
of her majesty.

if i confide in you
i know that you will chide me
find blame in me
for what happened
that hurt me

so in time i learned
to trust no one
and to hide in a
dark closet corner
where i won't be seen
cowering or choking
on my screams.

heavy sighs return once more
darkness prevails at day
still clandestine it must stay
for if i faced an inquisition
i'd be revealed a jester-
the sighs mechanical
& the darkness ephemeral.

what ever may be,
the sighs, however soft
& the darkness, however long
are rooted so deeply
fear and anger alone
keeping me alive & feeling.

We are plagued and poisoned
by the big G & C- Government run by Capitalism.

In a world where we fight the images of ourselves and each other to attain CEO-status and Land Rovers,
-to make something of ourselves worth being.
The closest we get? Becoming the land rovers yet stuck inside with the comforts of our baubles.

How can we fight to become when we don't know who to fight? What is it we must become?

A new ad sells a new vision of freedom and authenticity.
And we give them our money in exchange for
healing,
feeling,
and maybe eventually
being.

Just like the fad they create
We are left desperate
To find the answers
to questions they distract us from.
- - -
We mean well but
it doesn't resonate.

deep in the abyss
of the tether
lives a little girl
beautiful as ever
her eyes affixed
on each passing gaze
as she wonders
what a heavenly play

a calf safely caged
under his mother
as they share
the company of
one another.
supple and grazed.

the curtain draws
and the roles are called
now she’s awakened
to all the horrors

calf’s branded veal
and his mother dairy
it’s suddenly turned
truth so scary.

light of my life
and song of my soul
you're never too far-
at least that's
what i'm told.

linger around the yuletides
heightened senses swirl
like feathery snow sparkle
carried by the wind
dancing in the chill
like a ballerina
that knows not of
God's will.

Chimera gave me a
Molotov cocktail
on a Friday night
in a neon-lit
downtown scene.
- - -
they never told
me not to drink it
because they wanted
me to go down in flames.
- - -
so I drank it, and it
burned my innocence
for I will never trust
another when they
hand me a drink
- - -
but i am phoenix
and from the
flames i keep
rising

like a plague you catch on
incurable at least
death at most
- - -
you poke and ****
all my shortcomings
until i'm full of holes
- - -
can you see through me
and all that i've become?

bygone tycoons and blind followers
traversed by taking all offerings
while offering nothing to their offspring
except a tainted world they left dying
and crude remarks about societal upstanding
built on the back of  insurmountable debt
and a grapefruit breakfast
that left much to be desired in the ways
of relishing our senses and drenching ourselves
in awe removed from daunting poverty of spirit.

but like the green that peeks through concrete
so too shall we live completely
with their legacy coursing through our veins
in the form of bloodened synthetic remains
they call: our inheritance

console me
& just hold me
don't tell me i'm wrong
'cause i know i am

please
just let me cry
in your arms
while you hold me
like a child

i know it's my fault
i don't deny that
but for once,
please
just hold me
- - -
i'm pleading.
while my heart's
still beating

tiresome
and
lonesome
i grow,
living under
your constant
shadow.
always trying
to impress
leaves me
quite depressed
that i can never
be what you want
so much so that
i don't even know what
it is
that i want.

awake and weary
that my feet may fail me
across the grand prix
finish line
that i wont get to
in time
&
time again i try
yet failure seems not
to evade me
at every turn
at every corner
how long until
i try no longer?

threads of violins
shredded by violence
to stop the song of sirens
shrieking on the live wire.
it's twisted by air not felt
underwater
& captured by flash bulbs
that blind not deafen
- - -
suddenly we begin witnessing:
the tides are shifting
the tides are shifting

fan the flame
wick to wildfire
all the blame
to unjust liars
- - -
clinging to comforts-
my thoughts are shaped like death:
shortness of breath,
bringing about sudden sedation;
abrupt cessation.
vanishing back into the collective,
never knowing what it is to live.

reminiscent of the baleful days:
when the plagues sweep,
the emperor sleeps
on the bed of providence-
& there they lay, collecting dust.
- - -
clearing in the sky,
do you ever wonder why
full moon stagnancy
conceals the throbbing moonlit scene?
when can we reemerge from underneath
this adamant cloud cover?
while
waiting for the birth
of the mane in the manger
to blaze the way on earth
and make kin of all strangers.

transatlantic candor
sounding sweet
while masking falsities-
don't for even a second
think that i can't see
through words and pleas
so, please;
put my boots on the ground
for i will hang them up
when you can rest easy
and we can sit around
this place, your land or
around a passing home
underneath green old olive trees.

somewhere
in a building set ablaze
stand steadfast
then the silent breath obeys.
in goes smoke
out comes divine praise-
trusting & trying,
to see through the haze.

walls around crumble
the scaffolding too
yet still i remain
to see the worthy view

counting on blessings-
one and many names
wanting so badly
to understand your claims.

all around this crimson fire
i deeply wish to have no desire
both in this building and on a pyre
yet in the end i find myself
nothing but insane & a liar.
.
.
.

the demons are dead
but their skeletons remain

the zombies are gone
but their skeletons remain

what am i to do
when the bones wont go
- - -
knocked me down
i don't want to get up

push me deeper
until i'm part of the earth

i live & relive
what i should've said instead.
all in the hope
of showing you
what's going on in my head.

perhaps then you'll see
me for who i think myself to be.
instead i must learn
to trust you
with your perception
of me,
my imperfect prose,
& maybe my deception.
- - -
i pray someday to find
that for which I yearn.

full moon peaks beyond bare branched trees
rising with the tides on a dark unstarry sky.
all ships ebb
all ships flow
underneath the variable moonlit glow.
satin & silk
creamy filled ivory
still we're on the brink
of what? we will see.

turtle dove
only love
waiting by the sea shore

holding hope
all i've known
wanting to be so sure

really makes you wonder
the jarring push
out of the nest
swishing you into new age.
- - -
stumbling to steady
only took the best of me
to find barge at sea
whose buoyancy still
fails to carry