An oasis beyond a mirage,
a diamond beneath broken glass
some questions beg to be asked
is this worth persuing?

A rainbow at the tailend of a storm
a winning answer when all others were wrong.
Some roads take too long
is this one worth persuing?

An honest opinion among a nest of lies.
A truthful glimpse of what's behind the disguise.
Dwindling hope in why I should try.
Is this thing worth persuing?

A gentle landing after a turbulent fall
a pulse of love when your exhausted from it all.
Can we break through or do we hit a wall
Are we worth persuing?

the earth shakes beneath tectonic plates
a misery of mistakes weaved from the same rope that will hang the united states
as empires fall we withdraw
compassion for killjoy a complete and utter moral cleanse

dictators or dollars it doesn't make a difference
retrograde deviants persuing misanthropic leaniance
together as one bleeding out of every orface
the love of god flickers as the sign for hope is resurfaced

Summer 1986 Sunday 5:30AM

Misty morning in Malibu.
Seagulls stitch the sea to a subtle
silver sky. They sputter stridently.
Each elegant gull hovers effortlessly.
Entreating each other. Echos bounce
off the sound of the surf into eternity. The screeching of many a
soliloquy akin to silence.

I sit on the pier. The water before
me washes onto the staccato legs
of tiny waterbirds who wander
in and out of the surf. Little
windblown ***** of ecru and grey
wool. I worship in the womb of
the great goddess ~ nature. I wasn't to know the Creator was watching patiently...

6:30AM
I make my unhurried way up the
pier to my car. A cheap but
comfortable convertable. Nobody
walks in LA. I punch in a tape.
Don Henley. Boys of Summer.

I take PCH up to the incline that
takes you from the beach. Pushing
the pedal slightly as I slide by the
colossal bleached cliffs of
Palacades Park. There the homeless
sleep under the benches dedicated
by friends and family in
rememberance of loved ones.
Small plaques attatched for
posterity.

My hands are on the steering wheel
at 7 and 12 o'clock.I look at the cast
I wear on my right wrist. A token
of rememberance from an angry romance. He and I parted
respectively, if not at all
respectfully. I drive.

7:00AM
Venice beach. Not yet boysterous.
But never boring. The young people
(and old) still bundled together in bed. Saturday night hangovers will
be had by most of the denizens of
Venice beach boardwalk. A grainy
eyed few wander around abstractidly. Shopowners enter
their buildings, their storefronts
almost as small as booths. Graphitti
and giant works of art grace walls
everywhere ~ Jim Morrison and
Venus in workout leggings much
in evidence.

I smoke my cigarette and drink my
hot coffee carefully in the open cafe'.
I consider the eyefest of the crowd
that will congregate here to enjoy
the clement weather.
The cacophony and the clamor.
Touristas and Los Angelinos alike
drawn In by calculating vendors
and coyote souled street performers.
I look forward to seeing the
non conformity usually. But not
today. For now I sit in the quiet cafe'.

Venice beach. Vulpine. Vacuous.
A strangely vunerable venue. The
***** and the beautiful. The talented and the ******.

A street performance pianist trundles his acoustic piano on
casters out onto the boardwalk.
I ask him if I may play. He looks
at my cast doubtfully.
"I can still play..." I tell him.
He ascents and listens thoughtfully
as I play my compositions. He really
likes them. I ****** the ebony and
the ivory with insistant fingers.
The smile on his face is irrepressable. I smile back and we
flirt in self conceous, fitful fashion.
Time to leave.

9:00AM
Radio is on in my car now. A cut
from the musical Chess. One night
in Bangkok makes the hard man
humble... I like the driving beat.
I'm going up I-10, a single blood cell
in the main artery that brings life
to the flesh of this mamouth town.
Traffic is tenuous. A boon here in
this conjested city.

I drive to Fairfax and Sunset, where
I lived with in a tiny one-bedroom
apartment with my mom. An
ambitious actress. I an ambivalent
artist.

Sunset. The Roxy and Whiskey-a-
Go-Go. Cartoon characters Rocky
and Bullwinkle casually cavort on
the top of a building. Billboards
as tall as the Hollywood sign. The
street of broken hearts for many
an actress -slash-model. They
wander about on street corners
looking haughty and haunted.
Waiting for who knows who to
honk. Their dreams have flown
away like the exhailation of smoke
from the mechanical lungs of the
Marlboro Man. Schwab's drugstore
and diner. The place where some
famous starlet was discovered.
Delivered into the arms of the
Hollywood machine. I opt to go
to the Sunset Grill.

11:00AM
I'm walking down Hollywood Blvd.
Perusing shops and persuing
pedestrian pleasures. Everyone
talks of the star-studded sidewalks.
To me they look tarnished and
filthy. Stars from a sultry smog
laden sky come to earth. The names
of some of the folks honored on
them I don't recognise.

I'm here to view movies today.
I'm definitely not going to
Grauman's Chinese Theater.
Been there. Done that. Gave the
very expensive T shirt to
Goodwill. I look around at the
proud and the plebian. The pedantic
and the pathetic. No prostitutes
out yet that I could see. Probably
toppled into bed to sleep
(for once). Deposed kings
and queens of the monarchy of the
night. The homeless hobble along
with their hair matted and askew.
Shopping carts with stuttering
wheels de reguer.

A couple of tourists with Izod shirts,
plaid shorts to the knee and deck
shoes sans socks gaze in a shop
window. It's borded by tarnished
and faded silver garlands... tinsel
Christmas tree.
"Want to buy a mood ring today?"
One of them querys his buddy,
laughingly.

I find my small theater and enter
the air conditioned lobby. I purchase
a soda and pass on the popcorn.
As I enter the theater's modestly
plush, dimly lit cocoon sanctuary
I notice very few patrons are here
for the matinee. GOOD. I finally
watch the premiere product of
Los Angeles. Movie after movie
slides across the screen. The callus
morally corrosive corporations
conspire with the creative to produce
the culmination of many art forms
in one. Cinema.

LA. Languid. Luxurious. Legendary.
Rollicking, raunchy rodeo.
Seaside city. Sophisticated. Spurious.

SPECTACULAR.

8:00PM
I wend my way up Mulholland Dr.
Another tape is playing in the deck.
One of my favorites. David + David.
Welcome to the Boomtown.

I pull over at a deserted vista. From
this viewpoint I can see the city
spread out like a blanketfof brilliance. The gridiron of LA.
Glitzy and glamorous. Generating
little gods and goddesses. A gigantic
gamble for the disingenuous and
gouache. Tinsel town. Titillating.
Tempestuous. Only the very brave
bring their dreams here... or fools
rush in where angels fear to tread.
All but the fallen angels. They thrive.

Oh! If this place could be bottled it
would be such sweet poison. I
look up at the auburn sky and back
down at the breathtaking panorama
The metropolis that is LA with awe
and angst. I carefully stub out my
cigarette and flip it irreverantly
toward the lagoon of lights.

I get in my car to drive home.
Home?
Could this imposing, inspiring,
impossible place be called home?

Well. Home is where the heart is.
And I live in the heart of a dream.
This is the city of dreams...

CITY OF ANGELS.

Soul Survivor
Catherine E Jarvis
(C) 2005

I'll have my heart in a gift box wrapped in see-through,
embellished with flowers, dedicated to you.
I'll spread a smear of glitter on it, maybe a little gold too,
so it doesn't seem so bitter, so overdue.

I hope it's vivacious; if it was pumping still,
and with prudent words you would overkill.
Its liveliness--once, now long forgotten--will decay in your palms.
Daffodils and daisies will melt into your hands, betraying all qualms.

Being the human that I am, obliged me to always seek knowledge.
I loved everything. Everything was a wreckage.
The fact that humans can cause this much damage enlightened me,
yet the thought of persuing self-destruction further could never set me free.

I was distraught till I was numb to the bones,
paralyzed on the cold tiles, silencing my own moans,
because what future awaits those who are namely the sick-minded,
the delusional, the know-it-all, the blindsided?

For spectators like us, we set everything into action,
to those who are less fortunate; the earth is flattened.
Their ideas, their meticulous theorems and allegories would all be dispersed,
by those who ignited the fire from the beginning. By the universe. By us.

-Lyrix (BluJazz)

Blue, Blue, I'm so blue for you
Blue so Blue true blue for you

We shared Our life
within a place
of endless love
and wondrous grace
A vow of hearts
Our promise bound
that moment pure
forever found

Finding You

Shadows stole
Our moment pure
the sun arose and surely sure
All was lost when I lost you
I dreamed a dream
and saw you

Brand new

Blue, Blue, I'm true
blue for you
Blue so Blue, are you
true blue too

I searched the Earth
when all was new
Lost my life persuing you
Whispered prayers
to who knows who
Supposing all my prayers
were heard by you

We shared our love
We paid the cost
for those whose cause
was always lost
Angels sang
while they looked on
For crimes of these
Our love forever torn

All was lost
when I lost you
Dreamed a dream
and saw you new
Whispered prayers
to who knows who
Supposing all my prayers
were heard by you

Blue, Blue, I'm true
blue for you
Are you true blue too

I'm blue true blue
for true blue you

I'm blue true blue
for true blue you

-R.

(2.10)
Hlywd
-4MAR

Dear family
I know I always seem busy
The devil is trying to get me
I'm M.I.A
And I know that you miss me.

I'm sorry that I've been distant.
Seems everything changed in an instant.
My life is so inconsistent.
I don't know what I'm missing.
Family time, I really don't mean to miss it.
My life it's needs some assistance.
But.
I guess my mind is in another place.
Thoughts off in another world.
I started seeing another girl.
Went up and down man what a world.
But now.
I'll focus on my crafts.
Slowly go up old rafts.
This poem's heart felt that I bestest could finish te draft.
This poem's to the ones I love.
The ones that I miss.
Wish it could all just be cured with a hug and kiss.
Sometimes I go up to the lake just to reminisce.
Of all the things I shouldn't have I know it's a list.
Meanwhile, I'm caught up in my self, in my world with no neighbors.
Stay to myself even if I get handed some favors.
Haven't opened up in a while.
Maybe since I was a child.
When's the last time that I smiled.
Drive in my car Til it's on E.
Resorted to consanants and vowels.
I know they wonder what I'm doing.
What I really be persuing.
Hopeing I can save myself.
Some relationships I've ruined.
Some days I wake up and just ask what am I really doing.
They say family is everything, I feel as now it is the truth.
I should spend more time with y'all.
But I spend it living out my youth.
But it's everything I love.
And it's everything I need.
Family love's the cure and drug even though it not ****.

Intelligence is measured by many things
In fact there are many ways to be intelligent
I may not be able to solve a mathematic issue
To save my life
-ok if I really tried-
But I will always understand emotion
And strive to understand it's rootcause
In fact, emotions are such as the Tao
Extremely simple.
It would however take bravery
To be honest with one's self
To be fair
To find the right answers

The right answer is not always the same as the correct answer. Always do what is right

There's very little compassion
In the correct answer
There is very little humanity
In the correct answer
So choose the right answer instead
For above anything else
Are you not human too?
So in the end
If you truly want to understand something
Persuing it, will increase your intelligence
Depending on which field you choose.
Take the time to understand
Take the time to be wrong
Forgive yourself through
Your mistakes
Live within your love
You know, the one you have
For yourself

This will increase your intelligence.

Hijacked by the snooze button
stolen minutes slip into my sleep
to feed the dream furnace.
Consciousness struggles to surface
like a moth trapped in cold molasses.
First muttering - then SCREAMING
into the hazy space between
waking and sleeping - "Wake Up!"
subconscious philosopher stubbornly
attempts to unify all the
random baggage and jack-n-the-box
questions, into one patchwork epic.
Broadcast at the speed of thought-
in full Technicolor and 3-d surround sound.
Seeking clarity in the realm of abstraction.
Unable to interrupt - the adult self
tries to subvert with subtle
whispers of: closely persuing
clocks ticking in triple time,
floating on a sirloin raft through
piranha infested waters
towards some cold, crushing
waterfall grave.
Success sees the door open slightly.
A single arrow is loosed into
the thin rectangle of light.
Striking deep and true,
"You're LATE!"
The panic button neatly impaled
bleeds a banshee choir of sirens.
Shrieking all systems into action.
Dreams evaporate, instantly
turned to dust.
(only to resettle unnoticed
into forgotten corners)
Ashamed, the maestro
frantically conducts the
(somewhat abbreviated)
rituals of morning,
while thumbing through a
well worn book of excuses.
Is the **** coffee ready yet?

What happens when she doesn't want rescuing
When this mission you're persuing
is all in vain.

Think I have a stalker,
He's persuing me.
Can't break away from him.
An attachment,
He's hanging round my ankles,
Day in and day out.
Sometimes I don't notice him.
He'll never stand in my way.
I'll never fall over him,or for him.
I stroll through shady nooks,
He never utters a word.
Never shows me up.
He knows when to keep a low profile.
Comes out to play with me,
when the sunshine wears her smile.
(c) Livvi

Take my focus, drain my
attention. Disarm me like
autumn does with trees.
And leave me in complete and utter peace.

Too much to handle, too good
for me, and high and above,
I don't even dare to call this love,
maybe it's only some kind of mood.

How I want what I can't get,
but downgrade all I'll never have.
And you're in between. How we met,
what we say and do, so small yet

you disarm me with your every doing.
And I can't help but keep persuing.

My overactive imagination roams tapping into the rhythmic vibrations of the Multiverse. With each passing moment I converse with my Inner Child "the pure spirit of freedom from worldly views able to only love deeply yet without favoritism forgive all trust all be kind meek and humble to all having a gentle touch towards humanity and their flaws" the Mature Man "a augmentation of millions of ideas, information about what we know and what we think we know about God and it's celestial hosts...combining reason, wisdom, discipline and complexity to what our Creator has made simple for us to understand believe live and abide by....forming a TRUE Relationship with his Only Begotten Son Jesus Christ" and finally our fictional and surreal yet real and "Instinctual Self" pure living conciousness the epicenter of where our child mind develops to a mature mind our IMAGINATION & DREAM Self. In between this transference I had a revelation that my Inner Child and my Instictictual Self where far much greatly developed than my Mature Self and I knew then due to my knowledge of the unknown had vastly growed in massive proportions. High price to pay though for being hypersensitive and deeply gifted with the speciality to bend energies visualize auras foretell Destiny Numbers and write draw and do anything I set my mind to doing outstandingly well over others. My overactive imagination couped with hypersensitivity and able to tap to spiritual dimension freely able to transmit healing or cursing to others thru words of power and Tongues Of Divine or Demonic nature have created a conception that I was born a Schizophrenic and to that I do NOT deny its existence within the inner mechanisms of my conciousness and perception towards Life and reality. It's true I am schizophrenic but I have learned to live with my mental disorder...yet I see it more as a Gift than a curse. Self pity, victimizing myself, self loathe, self deception, self sabotage and grandiose illusions created long ago by my Inner Child is what I deal with in my day to day basis. Visual, Auditory and Inceptive thoughts become real to me combined with excessive amounts of free time and sedentary lifestyle I choosen to adapt to molding my current situation I have become too comfortable with this style of living. Deep inside I want to do different I want to mature and be a full grown man and take care of myself but am so afraid of failing I have given up on trying something new for a change. My reward is slowly self destructing because I feel unworthy of having a different kind of life than the one am currently living. Am terrified of the consequences I'll have to face if I fail at becoming my own self sufficient person that I so much want to be. Nevertheless, God I pray to thee you will empower me to take on this challenge and change and become what I want to become a full functioning Grown Adult taking on a job, financial stability, a wife, couple kids and a happy life. In my case NOT all is lost but I have realized I do NOT like responsibility,  I don't know how to take the right steps forward to be what I envision to be but not all is lost I will keep persuing my dream on one day being able to become and be what I envision ...A happy full Grown Man Mature and wise enough to do the right thing. With God's help and me communicating my current struggles to someone I can trust I can start taking small steps on changing me and my life and lifestyle. So help me God. I realize that for me to finally reach my end goal is a lifetime of progress not perfection. Is committing myself towards doing something different and sticking to the plan layed before me. I have an extremely difficult time going thru change because am so used to being spoiled, taking the easy way out, living a double lifestyle and having ways to prey and use my gifts to exploit others vulnerable emotions and use them as pawns to fulfill my own twisted sense of altered life and reality. This I need to work on day and night to use my gifts to help others instead of how can I benefit from the arising circumstances and situations I am dealing with and what can I gain from playing with people's time, emotions, perception, and energy cues...that I can easily tap into and administer small changes day by day till they start to feel the need to do things how I want them to do it by implementing small radical shifts of change in their primal energy pool. Devicing ways to slowly set them to pay for their time being spent on being disobedient towards theirselves and converting them slowly to become more distant towards their Mature Self in time becoming more disciplined towards self perdition and destruction leaning on a touch of Godliness with extreme amounts of self indulgence towards this World and it's carnal temporal luxuries we all partake into practicing. I want to instead begin to heal them slowly listen more carefully and attentively empower them to be focused on God rather than themselves...on the spirit rather than the instant gratification gained from the temporal carnal pleasures and enjoy the experiences of a deep and personal relationship to a higher power that they can tap to and call upon when in doubt or need. I am NOT saying I haven't done this before with others either but when I have tried they push me away because their afraid of a pure change of mind heart and soul. We are all confined to a prison within our own minds and we are doomed if we don't release them "the mind" from it. True Love is what matters and with it we can truly change the world. May God be with you always. Thanks for reading.

Once in a while take a rest from persuing well-being and practice your ill-being,  prepare your heart for sadness, so that once grief springs up from the darkness you will be better equipped to bear the weight and to use the now familiar tools to shape, to form your pain into something that includes a hand hold, something that maybe slows the unfolding, the unravelling that comes with that uncontrolled mourning, something that allows you to carry it with less stagger and while you're no less sadder, you may reduce your tauma and may have greater access to that part of your grey matter that allows more focus on where, in time, to lay that burden down.

Should have left it at how you doing i like your music too, i shouldve never called you back when you were persuing, shouldve never gave my 2-way and heard those woeful stories, the ones we heard a thousand times it bores me...

Should never have ****** me when you knew very well id be in love forever, it all crashed down, noone loves me, sitting here watching your bank roll run out, no noveltys the shows over, i cant take it anymore...

Noone cares when i hurt and the tears run down, im delicate youre aging dummy, taking my f35 20 minutes wasnt nothing, you should know thats how i roll, confidentially im on my way to get my **** blown, you dont want the world to know...

That youre my puppet love, the grown man inside me is always crying alone, i cry, cry, cry, no noveltys, no bankroll, i want it to be over...

Look at out lives we hide inside deep down both lost an lonesome, frail shook as one, tell me you love me, let it show, when all else fails alone no noveltys, no bankroll, then we have nothing...

Noone cares let the drama blow over, ill always be here let the show begin, i love you, tell everybody i love you, i love you, i love you, only you, youre my lover...

I pray it never comes crashing down, together forever baby come home, gullys in the back protecting our yard, lets play on our ground, yeah you, come home, i dont bite i playwrite, ill always be there...

Whos gonna? No more jokes, whos gonna? Be there when the moneys gone, gambling Marriot, no noveltys, make a move, youre my shiny star its killing me im dying slowly...

The optimist is technical about his dreams
The realist is political about his philosophy
The pessimist is looking at the glass, wondering
The politician is sure, he will drink up the whole thing
Wings of fists should be hurled at these inns situated with flings
The banker is sure that he will follow the stars of confusion
When the houses crash like the ending of radicalism or shaking money-makers
Stringently, striding, stirred-up; I can't get enough
Staccato, semaphoring, please stop; was that you, or me
Stentorian or is it a voice, just a word that gives me sesquipedalophobia
Too many words, by now that why we should leave immortal institutions
Following Immanuel's Kant's words, he'd have a palpitating heartbeat, since, I generalized philosophy
I guess we let six days of fiction fly, why weren't olden people persuing
Reading their manuscripts, and making books by the 15th century
Can find me a couple of ordinary names in a book of deities?
Half-measures and half-wit got me nowhere
Arriving somewhere, as I arose to the departed memory of dying
I feel alive, this might be just the bird that flys
God, please do not fight me or make me slap myself for wanting more.
Since it's a Genesis' Ornithology, truth is only subject to philosophical argument, or religious extremism

Lemme go to my real home - the other world
My real home existing in source of divinity
The sunset n my fading glow
Leading a way to that world beyond us
Soul trapped in cage of bones
Set it free to fly
Cool current n winter's moon
Sets my intensity on fleek
I would like it
It's a serene persuing me to my home
Lemme enter that world
A beauty beyond recognition...❤️