JAY
nothin
yep
what
crack
dogpoop
lol
bananas
Hitchcock
what da ****
like mayo?
got beef?
Hussein
Mad Libs
Donkey
Asian Jesus
Brown Rice
Cross-Country
Mexicans
Asian Eminem
Royce Da 5'9
Skype

your words make me
ache as far as a torch
stretched between murky-
blank pages

do not wait to scrawl your
truths until heavy resignation
creeps over my head like
a dark shawl

do not wait -
                         - I miss
                         everything and nothing
                         and (god
                         **** it)

the philosopher was right in
assuming a search for completion
leads only to a sort of frustrated
compassionate silence,
                                           so
                                      tired of being tired of growing
                                      weary with assumptions,
                                      mad libs of the spirit, only
                                      fill in the line with whatever
                                      you dream might be,  


              no


let me know you, the real
uncensored and true
(I can love) you

I feel like a child being spelled at
to keep the F-I-L-I-B-U-S-T-E-R for
adult ears only but even though
I admit the fact
                           - I know next to nothing
my heart desperately
wishes to know
you, everything.

Sticky ribs
A dozen mad libs
That we couldn’t fill in
Saying no to gin
In a ***** martini
Pulling off that bikini
What was all that worth?
Maybe nothing

you are not a hospital room
you don’t have to keep everything
pure-white and sterile

you are ugly red clay on the walls
covering up your bruises with
pink cotton-candy fluff and
bright yellow smiley-face stickers
that you saved from first grade
living out of your car
and calling it a slumber party; sleep-away camp
far away from the monsters beneath your bed

you don’t have to paint your cheeks
with roses, leaving out parts of you like
a mad libs story we played to pass the time
on long car rides to the coast

we can sit in silence
while the world around us buzzes
with all its uncertain chaos and
my soul will find yours
in the space that rests above
this mess of existing

Give me an adjective to describe this:
The _______ loneliness.
The itch that persists to ____ my skin,
The ______ twitch; the urge to give in.
The voices that _____ me not to resist.
Whispering ________ nothings in my head,
Death howling in the wind, a hand to _____.
Held _____ in my grasp, life slips away like sand.

- _____

I have a ＿＿＿.
It smells like ＿＿＿.
My ＿＿＿ is ＿＿＿
And isn't ＿＿＿.

When I feel ＿＿＿,
I ＿＿＿ a rose
Or ＿＿＿ a ＿＿＿.
Go ＿＿＿ ＿＿＿ ＿＿＿!

speaking only
through moves;
we are playing games
of chosen mad-libs
and retracing Uno steps
to find ourselves,
to return back looking
for multiple axes
so you or maybe I can
call bingo!

but I move, without you seeing
you return to reprise tension
lessening these enveloped expectations

rolling single digits
i'll fall behind, though you follow
this trend we seem to allow

hoping to land
on the same space
so that piece of you
may continue

“Better than working in a factory.”
Truer words were never spoken while
Smoking a big fat *doobie.
For Doug Clifford & John Fogerty
It was a motto; an anthem.
Creedence always respected &
Loved the workingman.
Working stiffs know--
They know in their bellies--
That Republicans are good for the
Proles, here in Oceania,
Good in particular for the building trades.
I recall a distant mob of
Swarthy plumbers & carpenters,
Electricians & masons,
A toolshed parliament & all-purpose
Construction industry trade show;
So many, many Italian family
Weddings & funerals attended . . .
Sometimes my residual blue-collar instincts
Show up during the most inappropriate,
White-collar times. But I digress.

Which brings us down memory lane
This evening, as in “Good-DEEVE-ning,”
Welcome aboard the Hitchcock Railroad.
(Stage whisper: If I have to explain it,
You’re outside my demographic age cohort,
And a member of a pointless throng of green,
Still-wet-behind-the-ears,
Presumptuous whippersnappers.)

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And now that I have your attention:
Consider the current national stage:
A media circus, a minstrel & medicine show,
H.L. Mencken’s last *******,
Give us our daily bread.
It’s August 27th, 2016.
We’ve survived back-to-back
Republican-Democrat Political Party
U.S. Presidential nominating conventions.
I’ve caught you smack yabba-doo-dabba
In the middle of this Trump-Clinton
Full-press, traveling Reality Show Cavalcade.
In short, I’ve caught you at a good time,
Perhaps receptive, somewhat, for a:
Nixon Retrospective.*

I submit that without doubt,
The most stunningly democratic gesture
Of our generation to wit: replacing the
College deferment loophole with a
Blind, dumb-luck Vietnam Draft Lottery.
You can thank Richard Nixon,
Milhous of that name,
Our much maligned 37th President.
The only RESIGNEE in history,
Run outta town on a rail,
Convicted without bail.
Set adrift without sail.
(How you wish I’d **** this
Wretched rhyme scheme.)

Yes, you can thank Tricky **** for
Sticking it to the Bush Family
And their inherited-wealth neighbors--
Riparian souls one & all--along the quaint
Long Island Sound, New England seashore.
Surely my Brooklyn working class roots,
Demand I salute and snap to, attention.
Hail to the Chief, Babaloo!
Mr. Nixon still has my vote.
He tackled big problems: nuclear arms,
Diplomacy with China, Vietnam,
The Economy (can you frickin’ believe a
Republican got away with
Wage Freeze & Price Controls?)
Not to mention The Environment:
Slap! BAM! Soupy Sales:
“I told you not to mention *THAT!
But you knee-jerking libs out there,
Must remind yourselves that
President Nixon created the EPA &
Signed the Clean Air Act.
Think about it next time your
Nixon-Watergate gag reflex kicks in.

Write me a line or two
A progressive tone from you
Why holding my head down
I am no longer wound around you

I swear I was sulking it in all
A pseudo reality to rise and fall
And despite my sublime awakenings
I find myself again human and waiting

Patiently in line with elevator music
Filling once sincere responses
With empty ad-libs. Blank
A thought has just sank

The dawn now has its essence
Talking now with others has substance
Walking in the rain now has its claim
I don’t know, what or whether to blame

And if I wake and no longer see
Its just because i have not been me

Feel great, feel cool, feel nice. Nice people, nice things, nice ice. Ice cream, ice blocks, ice cubes. Cube, pyramid, cone, sphere. Circle, circle of life, what comes around goes around. Ring around the rosey. Tulips, daffodils, daisies, pansies. Scared, frightened, freaked. Surprise, happy, content, friends. Social, shy, outgoing. Going out with friends, going out of town, going to bed. Sleep, cozy, pillows, blankets, nighttime. Stars, moon, owls, darkness. Dark hair, dark chocolate, dark night, Dark Knight. Batman, Superman, Cat-women, Supergirl, Flash. Quicksilver, Scarlet Witch, Captain America, Iron Man, Hulk, Hawkeye, Black Widow, Thor. Pepper Potts, Peggy Carter, Jane Foster. Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte, William Shakespeare. Elizabeth and Darcy, Romeo and Juliet, Jane and Rochester. Love, tragedy, comedy. Happily ever after, never, future, past, present. Wishes, desires, wants, needs. Thoughts, actions, words, deeds. If, when, now, how. Questions, answers, research. Study, work, write, draw. Art, paint, opinions, facts. Math, history, grammar, science. Religion, faith, beliefs, devotion. Marriage, together, apart. Separate, different, change. Old, new, used. Abandoned, left, alone, useless. Useful, helpful, needed, wanted. A place, person, thing. Adjective, verb, adverb, noun, pronoun, proper noun. Mad Libs.

Confusion seeps into the cracks in my brain  
Filling the missing spaces with assumptions

My world is a game of Mad-Libs.

Fill in an adverb for how much you’ve fallen, an adjective for how he hates you, a synonym for false friendship, and a part of you that’s broken

I have now fallen to the earth’s crust, burned and turned to dust
self confidence disintegrated to ash; slowly burning from the inside to out.

I cannot tell you why, but he hates me beautifully.

My friendships are filled with semi-sweet enemies, forced smiles and broken deals. And to think, I thought our childish contracts would be real.

Blood still pumps through me, but my heart is broken.

People attempt to complete each story in my pages with their own wild words,
believing they know what the ending entails.
But truth be told, whether it’s their words or mine, others will always laugh at the story that crosses their eyes.
I could start over and fill in the blanks myself.
Say that I haven't fallen but flown, how he hates me for not being next to him, scribble in that my friendships are harder to break then diamonds, and that nothing... nothing is broken.
I could, but it would be meaningless.
The words may differ but the reactions will remain the same .
because my world is just a big funny game.

She is gone.
Pack importance neatly away,
Strike dumb the dialogue,
Blur the details,
Lay dreams in the dark.
Dismantle the stage,
Make each player retire,
Tear up scripts,
Hush all ad libs and quips.
Lose joy in white noise,
Forget breath,
**** desire —
Let all souls expire.
No beauty awaits,
Beyond pearly gates.
Kick out the chair,
Let me swing in dead air.

1.
The scent;  amber
The color; pine
The touch; echos
The sound; blind
They are
All
of the senses
Intertwined.

2.
Sweet Robin, alight... takes to wing
Bruce's laughter, a booming thing.
Mark serenades, Michelle My Belle
Rog recants exploring tells
Scott japes, and keith's ad libs
Karen oh Karen,   heaven forbid!

Artists Dreamers Escapists Poets.
Jesters Lovers Genius Knowers.
Alarmists minimalists
Extroverted introverts
Fighters flighters
Together
Loners

forays into the unknown , into the magical , into the spherical
emitting pulsating rays from the astral body thrown out of the physical ****** is release , harmony , purification

wolf lips
teeth to hips hips to mouth

ice cream so good it makes you wanna **** people
ice cream so velvety you wanna make sweet sweet love to it

sunshine so melty wispy curling clouds whip across the sky,
twist like a message.
Mad libs , learning meaning , watching people , people watching us...we .. watch each other from behind the scenes cough * screens... *cough
Sunset picnic , good night sun we call !
pasta and a nutmeg chocolate , dulche de leche milkshake.

We speak of plans. We speak of future , when i have been living by the day. Dripping meager drops of the future from my tongue , she slugs it forth like a dam burst.  We speak of her frustration with the siblings. We speak of news on Yai and uncle. Grandma has had another operation , all my books and room decorations are at her house now , she’s offering me a job. Uncle is taking his epilepsy pills now, i am wary - pills can mess you up.  Attempting to stay sober. Facing himself. She cried  - A conversation with the mother , long distance mothers day , tears soak her cheeks as she see’s me for the first time since January. Perhaps a self imposed exile. The distance has done us good. I was expecting stress from this conversation but the familial energy sustained more peace. Granted..she is still in the throws of her huge landing. So some things are still up in the air. But i...i see myself now. It was entanglement , where i could not tell where she began and i stopped. Unpacking the karma i arrived with.

~~*

moon beam slows down time
skips the clouds into another dimension - thrown back with a jolt to earthspace
a mystic ballet , seamless motions pivot , friendly air smells like summer and new things growing -
hidden behind a slight veil of purple mist , moon draws her magnificence,
etched onto the passing cumulus clouds -
carp fish , wild boar running through the woods
smiley face mid wink and tongue stuck out.  
swift wind accompaniment
dew point reached
light cardigan weather cardigan present from the cosmos
overpriced chips , parks with no soul , bars laying music to the concrete , way too loud ,

stretching with bare legs and grey knee high socks against the chilly air on top of the dust bowl dog park
pitter patter dreaming of blowing gas stations up and skipping away on cctv cameras leading to us as the perpetrators.

parents try to give us what they didn’t have .... balancing out the imbalance in themselves
being parented is somewhat selfish
they -
shaped by the lack of fathers or the abusive mother
generations imbibe the past in transmitted transmuted  format

only knowing the extremes , the extremes they give
but we

not quite midnight , not quite morning wondering stars , ingest , test and leave what we do not need , with enough guts to get out there and do our own thing..... move as we feel compelled to move , grab the life we have been gifted and play !
play damit.
PLAY.

that is what my mother sometimes does not see too, the theatre production stage we are on.

Enough guts , to play this play for all it’s worth ,

we’re rewarded with each other to fall asleep to.

Don’t get me wrong , doesn’t mean we don’t take it serious.. picking up trash in the park , way after dark.

The game is to ward off thoughts of too heavy thinking
lightness moves.

Coming out of lust, disguised as love.
I’ve come close.
Touched mistrust, envisioning decisions,
old ****** positions, and bubble butts
The goings tough.
I’ve been known to get going.,
knowing not where to, the story keeps going.
I never stop roaming.

Rolling, another one up, writing with the homies.
Stories of ******* it up, and the tales of glory.
I’m exploring options that they’re ignoring.
It's like if you’re bare, you’re boring.
Snoozing and snoring.
O'hare deported my last ounce of care
this morning.
A fare afforded to the very important.
If you never heard of it, sit there and ignore it.

Business minded.
I found that, the more ground I gained, the faster the climb is.
In this winning climate, my ****** is still undefined.
My rhymes like, fill in the lines.
Ad-lib these mad libs, to be killing the time.
I’m not feeling the times.
It’s like sit still or rewind,
straight chillin behind.
Cheap thrills, and refills
for the pills that I find.
Never ending cyclical vibes
Living the how, I got sick of the why’s,
and living with doubt.
Life is an imperfect present,
so I’m presently living it out.
I’ve earned where I am
so how can I go
giving it out, now?

___
1. Verb
2. Adverb (must end in "ly")
3. Adjective
4. Noun

I want to SHOUT
I AM SO IN LOVE
Because when YOU KISSED ME my heart began to B.E.A.T
   #SO HARD#
against my chest

S    O          F   A   S   T  

that it sent -E-L-E-C-T-R-I-C-
  W a V e S
trough my veins
to my BRAIN
that instantly fell in L¤\/ε
with your ]libs[
all because of one /short/
but so endlessly lon_g   k i s s

“We don’t remember days, we remember moments.”

I remember four boys
willing to take in a lost kid.
I remember meeting him
in the middle of a winter night.
I remember meeting him
when we got lost among the rocks.
I remember meeting him
in an island bakery.
I remember meeting him
when I tripped into his life.

I remember that first gathering,
how awkward and nervous I was.
I remember not wanting to speak
for fear of ruining everything.
I remember mad libs in the dark,
how I never knew my turn.
I remember telling them my age,
for I am but a child in this world.
I remember talks under the stars,
how we were never tired yet.

I remember hearing his voice
and being surprised by him.
I remember adventures in the trees,
learning what it means to be mortal.
I remember learning his language
and completely butchering it.
I remember keeping him up,
how he claimed to never be tired.
I remember the sound of his voice
and the color of his eyes.

I remember his unique accent
and how mesmerized I was.
I remember the forbidden mine
that echoed with our laughter.
I remember the stories he told
and the memories he shared.
I remember hearing his dream,
how he wants to change the world.
I remember the way he spoke
and the hope he gave me.

I remember being nervous around him
and not wanting to mess up.
I remember when he called me friend,
how happy and proud I felt.
I remember his bad jokes
and the chaos he caused.
I remember his description of me,
how beautifully he thought of me.
I remember the strength in his words
and the safety I felt in them.

I remember how he stumbled
and how embarrassed he was.
I remember complimenting him,
how flushed his cheeks got.
I remember his infectious laugh
and the brilliant smile that joined it.
I remember how he treated everyone,
how he made all of them feel loved.
I remember seeing the universe in his eyes
and finally feeling free.

I remember hearing his voice
and how it shook with fear.
I remember his unique accent
and how choked up it was.
I remember him being nervous
and not wanting to slip up.
I remember how he stumbled
and how terrified he was.

I remember my skin
and all the blood it let.
I remember the pain,
how I went numb.
I remember the tears
and how they stung.
I remember my breaths
and my struggling lungs.
I remember it wasn’t enough,
that there had to be more.

I remembered my boys.

I remembered their fear filled eyes.
I remembered their tear-stained cheeks.
I remembered their hitching breaths.
I remembered their shaking voices.
I remembered their worrying hands.

I remembered.

I remembered
I needed them.

I remembered
They needed me.

I remembered my family.

I remembered
I couldn’t leave them.

I remembered to live.

I’ve found the meaning of family.

I see sisters laughing/ joking about who takes over responsibilities/ each sister attending to the others need/ partially/ I don’t know who is taking care of who anymore/ showing teeth/ assuring they are fine/ asking for strength/ even if just to relieve the others of worry

A husband supportive and argumentative and kind/ he calls her little girl/ a grown women fighting her fiercest battle/ he tells her she is not alright/ joking/ looking at her with fondness/ through eyes that haven’t closed in 48hrs/ through the oceans of tears he’s blinked/ he paces trenches into the floor

A family that has gathered at a whim/ over the Pacific/ across the country/ the smell of airports and car seats cloaking their sleepless venture/ the call to gather was heard/ it was answered immediately/ without hesitation/ one way tickets/ you too/ me too/ all of us

An incredible, unabashed bravery/ facing God/ fighting the pain/ without medicine/ without doctors/ without anything/ but the help of loved ones/ refusing to let go/ bravery unmatched/ bravery by example/ for all of us to learn

Silence in everyone’s eyes/ deafening silence/ collective gazing/ we sing a chorus of passing looks/ at each other/ at the phone/ at anything/ you never get use to holding back tears/ we know/ we don’t need anything more/ a smoke plume of red across each eye

A stillness in my heartbeat/ breathing has become a chore/ slowing my chest/ I remind myself I’m still/ living/ I’m here/ My heart beat to match the hyperventilating of my lungs/ it races double time/ triple time/ exponentially/ it turns to micro beats/ it stands still/ my heart has learned to comfort its own weeping

A calm lie I shudder to myself: I am not crying/ I am not the one in pain/ I am not the one fighting more than sadness/ I am not losing it/ the battle I mean/ I am not the one d-d-d-d.../ I am alive/ whatever that means anymore

This is a steam valve slowly releasing/ this is the oxygen machine/ running through cycles/ like waves of nausea/   this is not the scream of sobbing/ this is not the hiccups of drowning/ this is the steam of water splashing/ from the juices hitting blender/ now hot from being used on the hour/ every hour/ I’ve learned the sound of whirling can sound exactly like the clock hitting each hour mark/ this is the sound of the food being cooked again/ nourishment to the caretakers/ who haven’t left her side/ not once/ this isn’t screaming/ this is just steam/ and like tears on a cheek/ it will evaporate/ just like us

This is the product of seeing the youngest sibling age/ and wilt/ right front of our eyes/ too young to be the eldest/ too fresh to be most fragile/ her tissue skin/ paper mache limbs/ still sturdy and determined/ she stutters her words like scrabble and graffiti/ her thoughts missing pieces/ like a child’s smile/ she ad-libs with blanket/ she is bad at charades/ so are we

A fighter in all of us/ we are fighting tears/ we are fighting bad news/ we are fighting death/... / I finally said death/ I lost that fight before she did/ she is fighting our grief/ she is fighting to get a word in/ and her fight for that word to even come out/  she is fighting a war i can’t imagine/ we are fighting by her side/ each battle as unique as a fresh spring bloom/ each with the same outcome

A love in all of us/ I see it in every guided foot step to the bathroom/ in every new set of eyes that breaches the doorway/ I hear it in the Questions that echo back/ are you okay?/ how is she?

A fighter/ a lover/
a survivor/ a family/
Her/ in all of us

Caring/ smiling/ stubborn/ laughing/ joking/ worrying/ attending/ crying/ praying/ but most of all/ still living/  in all of us.

I found
the
meaning of
Love.

I found the meaning of Family.

I thought I was just getting by.
No. I don't want to do that.
Perhaps if I rhyme,
I'll sound fine.
No. No. No
It's all wrong.
I'll save you from the cliche
that I wan't to magically inspire you with.
I'll stop myself from attempting to sound clever
with my rehearsed lines that I claim are ad-libs.
I'll tell you straight.
I. want. to. feel. passion.
The kind that weighs your chest down
from the moment your in unison
and separate into harmonies
as an emergent part
yet still together as a whole
like unison.
The kind that makes you feel pain
breaking your back
when one has hurt the back
of your friend
because you are one.
The kind that keeps you struggling
because the journey it kills
but the results save
so you continue to walk, run, drag yourself
till the end.
The kind that makes you focus
on one in a million and five.
The kind that makes you perceive
a new perspective of a million and six.
I. want. passion.
I want to feel together with something, someone, anything.
I want it to hurt deep.
The more blood that seeps
The more colors of passion
there will be.

And I get my head sorted out walking the block in the cool city rain, flowers pushing up through the cracks in chalk outlines, bones rattling all the way down Vine,
I’m thinking about home, about all the times we leave before we stay gone forever, about everybody who ever said a prayer for me in the dark of some bedroom, everything so quiet now, I can’t even hear the longing anymore,

And maybe that’s how it goes with things we love in the night, maybe they’ll all be post-it notes left on coffee tables in the harsh holy light of morning, stray paper in an endless archive of those who have forgotten,
and those who are forgetting,

And my blood hums softly in these rings of light, ready as always to become something else, sustenance to the ravenous hunger of another, something to pass the time,

And lord, I don’t mind,
Everybody’s gotta get by, after all,
Sedated by something, whether it’s a hand finding another hand across a crowded room,
Lips finding another set of libs beneath the glow of something neon and prophetic,
A few lines on the weekend,
An entire constellation of glass bottles, lined up on a countertop like condemned men waiting for a firing squad,

And yeah I’m still getting through it,
Doing better about it most nights at least,
But every now and then a howl will rise in my throat, some old curse come round again looking to get exorcised,
And ain’t nobody left around to show mercy now, the wind picks up, we talk all night in circles,

And she says,
Honey, it’s time to go home,
And I linger on the threshold,
Just long enough to watch the sun break over the rooftops,
And I give myself over, again,
To the terrible momentum of release

You're [verb ending in -ing] down the [noun] because
it's your [occasion] and he wants to make it special.
You [verb], thinking about all the things you've
been wanting to do with him. [****** act.]
It's [adverb] going to happen.
The [light source] illuminates the [noun] on his left hand.
You think about [slightly kinkier ****** act].
He's [adjective], doing the [noun] in his head
trying to figure out when to get you back [place you don't miss]
before it looks [adjective your mom would use].
I'm [mildly suggestive adjective], you say. We're almost
there, he says. I wanted to take you to get [liquid].
When you step out into the [place], you can smell [unhealthy smell].
It reminds you of [crushing inevitability]. It scares you.
You look at him and his [colour] [plural body part].
Don't [verb], you say.
Let's go, he says.

I knew from our first kiss, in the cold dirt on a field
That we are something I don't want to skip out on and miss
That we are something I want to shield
I knew from our first eye contact and the smile on your libs
That you are the definition of perfect, to the exact
That I now know what love is, even tho we are just kids

My gun and guitar are never too far;
I wave the American flag.
My story is true as red white and blue;
You dam libs can be such a drag.


I talk really nice; I'm sculpted of ice
By chisels as forked as my tongue.
I just want a shot, some gold in the ***
They promised me when I was young.



Allow me the crass of a poet's bare ***;
I cannot believe what I see!
Take all my gold, not everything's sold;
You can't buy the fight out of me!



The only solution to this devolution
Is coming together in light.
United we stand; take everyone's hand,
and promise to love through the fight.