"anaheim" poems
In Anaheim the ultimate celebration begins,
People traveling from all over with fat grins
Luke, Leia, 3PO, R2
Autographs, merchandise, cosplay too.
Tattoos, nerd dating, panels and games
Sea of Slave Leias and other costumed dames
Everything you’ve ever wanted and more
This is the place you’re looking for
Fly solo, or come with family and friends
Party like a Jedi until the festivities end
From Lost to Disney, thank you JJ
Star Wars is back in a big bad way
Fans rejoice, happiness deep as a Sarlacc pit
There’s been an awakening, can you feel it?
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 5:16 PM UTC
Small talks,
Written in between railroad tracks,
A track going to nowhere,
At least it's beautiful,
The houses look cozy,
Behind their walls we wonder aloud,
If its football or just a get together,
Little lives playing,
Seemingly unimportant roles,
Living lives, on stairway steps,
No longer living lies,
Breathing,
Just breathe
Return to places you've never been,
And feel the love around,
At least it's hear now,
Long timers with only today,
Saying words that feel weighted,
Because they actually know,
Caravans catering to the perpetual,
One night stands,
Take the advice,
And keep the serenity,
You won't feel it till tomorrow,
As you smile at your
Forever frustrating manager,
Leave the destruction back where,
It belongs,
Take your seat,
remember to stay awake,
And hold onto the kisses in the car,
Tomorrow reality is waiting,
And you've only,
Just begun kiddo.
Sep 4, 2018
Sep 4, 2018 at 9:05 PM UTC
"Your addiction and you are in love,
Not starcrossed"
And it's a tango I'm so familiar with,
Outside my mother's house, or my dorm room,
Or my apartments in Bellevue and Anaheim.
I know the steps, I know the rhythm,
That first drag of a cigarette,
That first sip of plum wine, or *** or whisky, or beer,
That ancient gut-longing for someone who isn't here
I know the chords to the opening song,
Even to the older, pining songs which are long-gone
Now finely-tuned to my latest loss,
I give up, I give up, and I pay for it
No matter the cost
It could be a waltz, or a samba, but it's just deep-set lust
And though women usually come out on top in Tango,
I know I'll never win
So it's just a tango, that dance with death
Because I can't leave it be, at least not yet
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 4:07 AM UTC
Light creeps in through fogged glass
To a room full of smoking enthusiasts
Dinner is served on a paper plate
In a failed attempt to rehabilitate
Red wine stains your mothers blouse
Inconsequential in this small house
Dust settles into carpets worn by time
Like the family, never to leave Anaheim
Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 2:12 PM UTC
california has a spirit
that makes you want
to sleep with motorcyclists
whose arms are rich browns
the air smells like warm lime
and the palms look like kisses
I could be giving. It's all very cliche,
but california has a spirit and it makes
you want to sleep with motorcyclists
whose arms
are rich browns
with salt n' pepper hair
they would probably
know how to love you
maybe.
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 10:51 PM UTC
Something so small
Yet I feared it for years
Silent fear
Fear of laying there, motionless,
No meaning, no emotions, no catching up, no "I love you dads"
Got off the car, entered the room in the little motel in Anaheim
My mother's voice
And suddenly, him
After 16 years of silence
He didn't called me son
He called me by my middle name
Me hablaste de usted
a broken river of pus
an exit door
I laid on the bed
Motionless
In tears
And I said that word I only reserved for you "apa".
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 1:12 AM UTC
i notice that I sign
every diary entry
and hold my legs
in bed, like every
page is a letter
and every leg
is a hand.
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 11:46 AM UTC