Looking down from the 7th floor of this 6-story apartment


In my head I calculated if it would work


And if I should even leave anything behind


"Don't waste your time on me anymore"
That's what I've wanted to say


But there would be no point in trying to get through


No more anything anymore


If I just make myself go through with it

I just want to go back

To another me

Back to the first story

A story I have never told anyone

Long forgotten and buried under

This pile of misdirection and lies

One day I will find it, so until then

I will keep digging out my insides

And I won't stop


Because god has an apartment complex

To renovate
Renovate
Renovate
Renovate

Should we invite the neighbors over for dinner?
Their politics so different from ours.
All the more reason. Combat anomie!
He's worried the town's losing population
but opposes immigration. I like immigrants
but hate passing people on my morning walk.

The whole mountainous western region of the state
is losing population at a rate of 1% per annum.
The young move out, the old stay put but
young artists priced out of big cities move in
looking for affordable studio space. How low
can the population go as long as rents stay low?

We did agree about the fire department expansion
being premature (him) or unnecessary (me).
He argued we should renovate the high school first
the roof is caving in and walls crumbling.
But you can teach under a spreading chestnut tree
or baobab and science needs the world for a laboratory.

I teach at the old 2nd St. jail in Pittsfield
a town that doesn't know if it's coming up or going down.
A few shootings last month, no deaths.
They're holding their breath but also trying to attract life
science businesses to the industrial park. The local bank's
expanding, buying smaller banks in neighboring civilizations.

Eventually our fire department got the vote they wanted,
just called another meeting and packed the auditorium.
The final winning argument was we can do the school,
the fire house and the police station all at once.
Don't accept defeat, limitations. Defeat anomie!
Anomie means lawlessness and purposeless in Greek

so that's not exactly what we're trying to defeat.
It's the mismatch between our aspirations and resources,
no, the dissonance between our tribe and nation,
the individual as ****** animal and intellectual,
the farmer and the banker, the loved one and the litter,
whatever happens to you after you die and belief in reincarnation.

For me, it always boils down to mortality
every conversation, which is why no one comes to dinner.
Whether the fire department buys an exorbitant parcel
at the expense of a future school renovation
in a town slightly losing population but still viable
with a college, bank, artists and a few working farms

is everything and nothing, as Borges says.
Deutsch says death ought to be curable.
The new high school or fire station, conditions like anomie
v. democracy, new life forms, self-conscious species
from the laboratory or the biome. How de body?
Today ok. Tomorrow I don't know. Potential

energy, lover, killer, anomie. Karl Popper
had such faith in the rational whereas Niebuhr
acknowledged man's ego is uncontrollable except
by force. Conflict is inevitable. But at dinner
we agree it doesn't always have to be violent or terminal.
We can do the fire department, police station, the school and anomie.

If I could, I would.
I'd demolish you with the things I can do.
You remake me,
I'll remake you.
If I could, I would.
I'd obliterate all that came before;
Your past, your pain, they'd be no more.
Every brick, every beam, every shard of broken glass....
I'd renovate your body, if you would only ask...
If I could, I would.
I'd enjoy the destruction of all that came before;
Every molecule of pain would be no more.
I'd break down your walls,
assault your salty skin,
make you feel whole,
make you fragile again.
I want to smother your psyche,
make you beg for mercy.
Nothing would be same, nothing would remain.
Beneath our heat, all that was solid melts into thick air.
My mouth swallows your pain,
consumes your frame.
And there we are: destroyed.
Neither who we were, nor who we're yet becoming.
Through our destruction,  
we're remade anew.
You remake me,
I'll remake you.

Coming up from the ground
You see that light
The light that makes you perpetual
Like a feather flowing through the breeze
Deft as an emotion, clear as water
Im open to the world, i'm open to nature

We all have that empty pit in our stomache
When we cant see the sun for what it is
Blocked by the bleakness of winter

But you can get through, you can get through, just keep holdin on

See the forest through the trees
See the trees in the forest

And advice I can give ya, is to not give up
Stuck with  fleeting feeling
Of uncontrable variables

And that balance is virture,

We cant renovate the old, so lets change the new
We cant renovate the old, so lets change the new
lets start a revelotuion
New, new, lets make this world.

Renovate yourself.
Whether it is once a year or twice a month:
Become new.
Roll up in your bedsheets and feel the chrysalis change you.

Don't stay the same.
No, don't you dare.
If you stop moving the darkness will catch up
Destroying your dreams,
Your love,
Your hope.
Everything that kept you steady.

Renovate yourself.
Whether it is once a year or twice a month:
Choose change
Before it chooses you.

I am ashamed, Sister!

I live in a house, I want to renovate.
Yours was bulldozed, now you live in a tent.

I need a new car, trade the old one away.
You lost your feet in a bombing yesterday.

I sleep so cozy and warm in a king size bed.
You find comfort in the cold hard floor instead.

Something doesn't work out I'll complain to everyone.
While you hide your tears when you lose someone.

My freezer is full with samosas and pies.
Your tummy sounds are muffled by rockets and cries.

I open my fast with plenty food in my plate.
You are thankful for that single date.

I do some chores my back is sore.
You lost your sons your pain is much more.

My Eid clothes are bought, few hundreds gone.
You were forced to leave with the clothes you had on.

I need a few holidays throughout the year.
You won't abandon your land despite the fear.

I have everything yet I still want more.
You just want peace, the end of this war.

Despite all this you are closer to Allah then I'll ever be.
So I am ashamed sister, ashamed for being me!

I just started my new job
As the handyman in the land of OZ
Seems things haven't been going the same
Since the Wizard up and left that day

First off is that house from Kansas
The one that fell on the Witch of the East
There's no way the Munchkins can move it
So we're going to renovate it right there on the side of the street

And turn it into a Bed & Breakfast
Where all the Good Witches can relax and stay
Then they all won't be so apt to
Commandeer a sphere and float away

After that I'll need to buy some silver paint
As the Tin Man is looking rather dull these days
And while I'm at it might as well, some yellow and green
To give the road and OZ a brand new sheen

And since the Witch of the West has been put to rest
I have all the Flying Monkey helpers I can use
As my professional skills will be put to the test
Giving her dingy castle a good ole OZ spruce

I wonder why they've never had someone before
Oh yea, I've also gotta fix that Knocker on the front door
There are so many things that need to be done
Me being the new Handy Man in the land of OZ

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i saw a glimpse of you in that landscape.
it was painted with the colors of your time management
but sometimes you were too impatient.
i swore on biblical verses and too many shots that
you had skyscrapers for fingers and you knew
how to take the best out of me.
we shaped play doh into giants that would walk,
just to renovate and play god for a day since
sometimes we felt too little to even be alive.
we heard the top of buildings laugh,
golden cities never found a place in my heart,
but what do i know?
maybe we just tried to direct, reflect, dissect.
i can't pinpoint my points on your cork board
because there are too many ads telling me about
the things we lost, the moments
we left on the grounds, like low light second levels
and fish bowl blemishes on saturday afternoons.
your catholic boy demeanor, or lack thereof,
was nothing short of a misunderstanding and those who
had the time wanted the resources but those who mattered
didn't have the watch to tell them when to listen.
heart listeners don't show up and god only talks to
skyscrapers,
building off of what is closer when we all need
something to reach out to touch.
heart listeners negotiate by linguistics and wooden
tables,
mapping out the streets and yet
some of us just recycle the paper so we can start
all over again.
some of us just want to be a city,
beating hearts leading giants
to maybe someday talk to time.

if I could renovate my life
as you'd renovates your place
if I could get rid those lousy-things
as you'd throw away your good-for-nothing things
if I could fix my life
like fixing broken parts in your room
if I could do it over
like painting over the walls
if this life is an interior designs
that possess before and after
if my life that worn-out at "before"
could turn into the glamorous "after"
can I renovate it?

Renovate your inner self frequently to clean out the waste..

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6. Advanced and Modern Display
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Looking West, I think I can see you
In summer clothes, in sunshine, in light
Surroundings that fit and embrace you
Yet, hoping your eyes search for mine

I can't tell if you are looking Eastward
I don't expect you could pray to the East
On a globe, which horizon is forward?
Which sacrifice will guarantee the yield?

And meantime you shimmer on coastlines
On sand, and at parties, in bars
But I recall you when you were all mine
Quietly answering each other's prayers

Your love is scaffolding built overnight
Surrounding, supporting weathered stone
An unexpected artisan, you revitalise
You renovate and salvage and own

Own me, and this immobile cathedral
Impervious rock to skilled test
A sanctuary for prayers that come Eastward
A place where our love can be blessed

Why am like kid to dance on my father's grave.
Why am not sure about my fallen story of love.
Maybe the passerby call me crazy of course they are not sure about who I am.
But they need to know the truth and the world needs to know all but still my mind is allergic on there quotes.
The world is truly nothing as it gives me reasons to back in my sorrow gracias.
Really our clan is not like wheels, so that we can back in our blood shed, and paint our feathers with the curse of black allies.
But please reflect on me, from my family grave I grew, in eyes of my heart murders I make my roots and again with the hands of my neck slaughters we make our land green by irrigating it with forgiveness and remembrance.

Now you can understand how my pain is my back pack that seek my joy but still be my burden to bring me down of my crown.
My king size my rope, there still a farm we need to renovate and tighten our knots so that the eyes keept at us many needs to change.
As we grow we will understand, once we were church mates later we became killers and others became hunts, once we were brothers later we fights in court, once we were Brothers later we became enemies, haters, and nightmare living.
From my pain I saw my light, I ended up smiling, my God served my soul and brought united
Really they fought, they cured our wombs, they rescued our blood, they vallued our land, and seek my happiness again.
Again we ate our bread with juice instead of roots and thirst, we made it sadly to make happy land ancestry DNA.

Let's build together, let's continue our strategy straight forward to our motto.
I see my lights starting and my vow renewals with my heart beeping maybe am winning and my sword will protect rather than shaddind our blood with innocents soul.
I see Victorious holding victory and the victory is my pride and that's our light.

You try your hardest to devastate my reputation
but in veracity my dear, your slowly degrading
your  individual own,
that sickly corrupted image you hold.
bit by bit you will disintegrate,
then “****”
you renovate to non-existence.
your gone.
I express amusement.
your **** won't be taken,
yet it was never received.
that bitchiness you held was never understood.
It was negativity only prepared from jealousy.
What were you ever thinking in that conniving little conscience of yours?
Did you ever discontinue to think if it was even worth it all?
I throw on a half smile every time I think of your failures
The way you tried to fail me.
The difference between me and you my friend..
Is that your dead.
And I am alive..

The floors that creek,
You’ll hear it in me,
When you step all over me.
You can’t avoid it, even if you tried.
It’s in every crevice.

My broken soul,
My shattered heart.
My lost mind,
My used body.

It’s there, it can’t be fixed.
Leave me the way you found me.
You’ll destroy me as you go.
Eventually, I’ll crumble anyways.

n.n

Were I given a life to return
To hold again my newborn son,
I'd take time to be present,
Really "there,"
Beside, behind him,
As he learned to run.

Instead of the tower on the hill
I tried unsuccessfully to be,
I'd walk beside him on the path,
Reminded of my boyhood memories;
I'd leave the sermons to the priest and be the dad.

I'd get us shovels,
Deep to dig our conversations,
Embrace the work and sweat and look for more,
Pick and bar our way to Rock,
Drill and blast our anchors to the floor.

Before the storm surge of his teenage years,
I'd strive to see strong footings were in place,
Weld strong the structures while the girders rise,
Pray the work would stand the weather's cruel face.

The past, now present has me chilled;
The distances are lost in haze;
What I see now from my distant hill
Reveals broken structures to be razed.
God grant us time to renovate and fill
Remaining years to bring Him praise.

Fall has come and brought with it a sudden change in energy.
The exhaustion of overheated air now calmly cools to a fresh breeze.

The smell of wet fire nights slowly takes place of *** waxed mornings,
As a warm breath makes its way from toasting your skin to soothing your heart.
A state of situational change commences internally as the external world converts the earth.

Gaia is transforming her body as you renovate your soul.
Each day dawns in gold, trimming the rims of wise leaves.
Nature’s acumen is on display.

She is the only being equally as beautiful throughout her entire life.
Time will never age her, for her heart is eternally youthful.

She lives off the love of those who fuel her being and protect her beauty.
Contrary to popular belief, she is not immortal.

Slowly she is poisoned by ignorance and disrespect.
The souls of the wicked eat her light and mask their meal in meaningless schemes and machinery.

She stands no chance in a world of egocentricity.

Her only hope is archaic revival.

He chains black coffee and cigarettes,
knocking ash into last night's beer bottles
whilst Tom Waits is yowling from the stereo.
The Sunday morning is bright-white
like the bleached kitchen counters
that spread in uniform fashion
across the neighbourhood.
The window blinds him with the brilliance
of daylight, after staring too long at the screen.
Another chance to make a go at living,
but with the opportunity
of squandering it all the same.

Conscious that he was standing in his boxer shorts
and more so for the inevitable morning *******,
he checked for humanoid shapes in the allotments;
no Peeping Toms or curtain-twitchers,
only carcasses of Sunflowers
charred by November
and forming a Tunguskan fence.
In his incomplete state of a half-grown beard
and lack of full-time employment,
he found it quite impossible to think
that he was the present day culmination
of all humanity's endeavours.

Save for a relentless talent of self-destruction
and a penchant for giving oral ***,
he had long given up on a remarkable life,
instead savouring the aesthetic of smoke
curling by an open window,
or else watching the squirrels renovate their homes
to the patterns of the seasons.
A strain of survivors lead to his existence
but it didn't steel him in the slightest;
the most energetic thing he had done all week
was to kick a dog-chewed tennis ball
across the park in disgust at his life.

He kept a chart of happiness tacked to the wall
but he was always too depressed to fill it in.
Instead, there were books to be stared at
from their shelves, women to be thought of
but never spoken to;
a windowsill to lean against
and feel at one with the Earth.
Despite the cruelty of self-imposed detainment,
he had come to find a solace in stillness;
to slow his days to a glacial pace
with tense, quivering yoga poses,
and a disdain for daytime television.

During this hiatus for living he had finally
stopped biting the skin around his nails
to the point his fingers would bleed.
He was a man with a myriad of bad habits
and an maltreated disease,
but now the world was crashing around him
whilst he stood in the sidelines
as a disinterested spectator.
He has no stake in the outcome
of endless war and lottery tickets;
only the next collection of honest words,
and to where they might lead him.

I live in a God's complex
A metropolis of facilities all lined up neatly in rows
One by one, each line of an intelligent design
State of the art insulations perfectly enclosing this refuge
An oasis in the cold, safe from outside harm
Sheltering the lost arts of relaxation and comfort

They say God is blind
Oh so precious was the thought
But from this view
I can see everything
And from the inside
I can hear everything
Carry anything
What could ever tear this down?

Who knows
Only God knows
God's elaborate
God's complex
He oversees everything
Hears everything

But they say God was deaf
That God owed them
A heaven in the skies
That he hears everything
The truths and the lies
But God owns a building complex
Behind walls he was confined
He was a terrorist
By the mask that we assigned
An almost architect
A destroyer nonetheless
And through his own believes
He was once an atheist
A teacher, a student
A son, a mother
A father, a daughter
A cynic and a lover
Conformist and traitor, his own creator
A dreamweaver, human creature, Godmaker
Taking up every living space this world had to offer
Settling in, committing sin
Exploiting God's creations, claiming it theirs
Leeching off all that he is within
Taking and taking as God gave them up out of love
One by one the spaces were occupied
The new Gods came


As all the young and old put words in each other's mouths
Fighting for what was once good, now only selfish
Driven by a need
For a purpose, a calling
A self-fulfilling prophecy to create something out of nothing
They talked in circles and shapes
As he
He didn't say a word
And so they thought he was mute
But they just never listened
Inside these last four walls
He will hear everything
When nothing outside exists anymore
When nothing he's created talks back anymore
When nothing moves, and nothing moves him
Dead silence
He's heard enough
And so on the last day he rested
To never return again


God has a building complex

To renovate
Renovate

Renovating the nothingness inside

I remember crying over Chopin.
I was twenty years old
and coming down from alcoholism.
There were words in the
hammers and strings,
but I couldn't understand
a word that they were saying.

Around that time I started meditation.
A room to renovate, I took
a step-ladder to the astral realm
and spilled poetry from my dreams.
I was twenty years old
and in the process of quitting.
It's a slow-burner, even now.

There were doctrines for self-actualisation.
I was moved to understand them
in a smattering of conspiracy theories,
Buddhist mantras, and lazy hikes.
I wore sunglasses and shorts
in Gran Canaria, and strived
to get you out of your dress.

I remember swimming in the cenote
and conjuring breeze from
the warmth of your breath.
I would soak into wine and
stolen cigarettes, as you toyed with
your bikini in the mirror. I remember
the freckles along your inner thigh.

Around that time I worked a living
scanning bar-codes and forcing
hangovers down until lunch.
There was a tiredness gained
that cannot be shaken off,
and a lust for justice
amputated at the tip.

There were road-side sandwiches
and flicks of hair in the wind.
You pinned me to the bed
and showed me what love meant.
Three years on and I'm an old man.
There are friendships contained
in memories, as I think back to when
I was twenty years old.

Forget Portland and Austin and Santa Cruz.
Those famously strange places,
where the tourists gawk at local weirdos.
Here is not there.

Here is the place of advice such as:
“When life gives you meatballs put a wig on a dog.”
—True story.

Here is the place where:
“With all good things in life you just have to wipe the bird **** off.”  

The place where steel and marble Confederate ghosts,
watch the wealthy renovate their westward homes along a cobblestone road.

Where paintings are propped to rot up in alleys,
and buzzing twenty-somethings on their way back from a show,
shake it and tilt it and carry it home.
—Gilded frame and all.

This is the place of painted concrete where walls are canvases,
and red bricks pop out of the ground,
the tree roots poking through to trip you.

Here’s where the People’s Beer comes from Milwaukee,
but we replaced the R in ribbon with here,
and sell it by the caseload when it rains and when it’s Tuesday.

Where young people go to find themselves getting lost becoming someone else,
remixing history to not admit naivety,
before they’ve been sandpapered through experience.
        —To a core.

This is an ink-stained but not splattered place.
Where lines are careful, permanent and abundant,
and on Fridays can cost 13 bucks.

Here is the place where people roam like that restaurant rabbit:
listless and nomadic and stuck.

Where there’s a wild streak in its heart that follows the tracks,
and cuts the city in half.

This is the place that Carvers itself out into cultures,
and you can be from the Bottom,
or proud to be a Rat.  

Here is where you night-drive over the bridge,
see the skyline and feel restlessly content.

Here is home.
—For now.

Emotions and negative feelings
people's poisonous barbs
attacks and regret
Shame and anger
become bottled up
into a prescription bottle
or better yet
one of those old
medicine cabinets that you drop your razors
into the slot it the back
more and more the rusty razors pile
up into the pit of unseen darkness

One day soon it will be
time to renovate and you will have to
deal with those razors in the wall

Have you ever had one of those days...

Where you just feel sane?
No reason to why
The clouds just withhold all their rain
And you're sailing on your way...

Have you ever had one of those days...

Where you want to punch everyone you meet in the face
To sort of justify your head state, and put your feet back in place?

Have you ever had one of those days...

Where everything feels strange?
Like nothing is original;
And passing thoughts cant be tamed?

Have you ever had one of those days...

Where you.....where you just don't really know how you feel?
Those days seem to be the ones when everyone asks if you're okay
And you are
But the more that you're asked;
The more it grates against the grain, driving you insane...

Have you ever had one of those days...

Where you plan everything out
Write it all down
Feel confident you'll act it all out
But instead you find yourself glued to the couch?
Lounging about...
In your pants
Eating cheesy Doritos for no apparent reason?

Have you ever had one of those days...

Where the suns rays penetrate and renovate
Invigorate your being
Leaving you feeling as though you can touch the highest of ceilings?

Have you ever had one of those days...

Where everything doesn't go your way...
As though someone's just taken the biggest of ***** on your parade?

Have you ever had one of those days...

Where everything thing happens all at once
One minute your napping
The next your arms are flapping
Getting stressed and restless
Relentless flitting decisions causing sticky dispositions
Narrowing tunnel vision
Hearing that's constantly shifting
Contracting and relaxing
Entangling webs and...

Have you ever had one of those days...

Where you just wanted to write about it?

Did you say something?

No.

I thought you were going to say something?

Only that I love you more and more everyday, and I want to wake up like this, in this bed, with this cup of coffee and this teddy bear every morning forever. Only that I combed threw all 1,284 photos of you on the internet until I could confidently conclude that I'm the prettiest girl you've ever loved or kissed or seen. That I've already imagined our wedding (springtime on the cape), our children (adorable) and our farmhouse we will renovate until it looks like the ones on tv.  Only that right now I love you, and its eating me alive.

Nope.

I smoke and I think. I lament and I drink.

I tell myself in a few months it'll be someone else's name; and I tell myself that name will bring about a contrasting feeling to what yours brings me now

I lie to myself

But still I act surprised when your name stumbles through every corridor of my mind, opening every door and sabotaging every room - yet still finding nothing   inside my intellect appealing to renovate into something beautiful.

I clean up the rooms, I tighten lock the doors, I set alarms but none of it stops you from breaking in and destroying everything again.

I rebuild stronger each time and when I think I've finally locked you out and I think you've given up, you carefully pick each lock and you decimate everything again, leaving nothing beautiful for anyone else that passes by to relish, forcing them to leave without any interest of coming back.

Why the **** are you doing this to me?

You've been incarcerated in my subconscious and you long to escape.
And I won't let you.

So you destroy everything in your sight hoping the destruction will force me to set you free. But darling, I've lost the key to the only entrance of my mind and I don't have the strength to break open the gates myself until I've rebuilt everything I've allowed you to destroy.

I continue to lie to myself

the year that was

January

The world watches in amazement
Longest shut down in history
Watching it all in Korea
contemplating escaping the cold winter

February

World watches as North Korea and the US
Walking back from the brink of war
escaping the cold winter blues
revisiting Vietnam after 15 years

March

The chaos president continues his chaos tour
the world begins to ignore his constant insane tweets
heading back to DC inspecting property
seeing old friends glad I retired

April

the chaos King’s policy remains a shamble
as the Mueller team closes in
in Korea I write a  poem a day
and begin to become a publish writer

May

watching from afar
the chaos in DC and the world
traveling to DC to inspect property
celebrating my wife’s big 60

June

the President walks away
from a  non deal with the North Koreans
I am back in DC
end up cruising to Alaska


July

watching the insanity in DC
while visiting Alaska, Seattle and Yakima
visiting my father’s grave in Yakima
communing with family ghosts


August

the dog days of summer the world is consumed
wars, rumors of war, trade wars

retuning to Korea
surviving the August sauna like summer

September

The whistle blower sets off a bomb
the president lies no quid for quo perfect all
trying to avoid watching the news
hiking in the Korean mountains with old friends


October

the President flitters about my crisis after another
the UN diplomats laugh at him national humiliation
returning to DC  yet again more property blues
celebrating my 64th year orbiting the sun

November

the House starts formal impeachment hearings
watching fascinated by the impeachment drama
entering my third NoVoWrMo competition with Timeless Love
ending the month sudden surprise trip to Okinawa

December

the year ends on a high dramatic
President Trump becomes the 3rd impeached President
hiking enjoying the late autumn like weather
contemplating my wealth at the end of the year


the Terrifying Teens

2010

The dark days of the great recession
Begin slowly to fade away
Ending my Barbados experience -the best job in the foreign service  on high note best labor officer award


2011

the president and Congress locked in battle battles
glimmer of hope as economy comes back to life
Studying Spanish arriving in Spain
worst year ever part of three years bad luck


2012  

the US re-elects the Black President
rejecting Romney entitlement mentality
I leave Spain my last foreign posting
buying new property in the fall


2013

In the US the religious right
loose the social Battling gay marriage, legal ***
Starting a new job as an evaluate program evaluator
ending my six month wandering the halls of State


2014

The Obama presidency
The tea party rebellion on the right
Moving to Capitol Hill
My sister’s sudden death rattles me

2015

The end of the Obama era
Was this the beginning of the end of America
Beginning the year with a new job
resolving to retire, enjoy life while I still can


2016

American voters and at the madness
Elects the mad would be king President Trump
We traveled across the country 10,000 miles
To celebrate the end of my foreign service career

2017

the year of the chaos president
Fast and furious disruption to the norms
Went to Oregon to renovate property
becoming wealthy in the process

2018

the American public woke up
Send a blue wave to clean up the mess
Moving back to Korea
Blogging up a storm

2019

in the end of the year that was
The house races up and impeach is the president
I travel to Vietnam, Alaska, Washington, Oregon, California and Okinawa


2020 Plans Roundeau


Dreams

Dream what may come
Recalling past lives lived
Every fantasy comes to life
All night long
More nightmares to come
So many worlds to explore

  
Fate

Fate has a way
Always catching up
To you embrace your fate

that is what’s up
at the end of the day
Endless dancing away


The Oyster Speaks Up

A diner sits down
looking forward
to eating oysters

it was their season
after all

just as he was about
to pounce
on the oysters

the head oyster spoke up
saying

hey human what the hell
do you think you are doing

you think you have the right
to eat me?

that’s violating my human right
don’t ya think

the diner laughed
said to the oyster

shut up and accept
it is your fate
to be eaten this date
just let me enjoy eating you

and you have no human rights
as you are in fact
not human don’t ya know

eating the complaining oyster
shutting him up
as he ate him up

 
We Did Not Take Action to Start a War
(not for publication)

it is a sad day
in the world of ours
the the leader
of the U.S.

is turning into a gangster leader
threatening massive destruction
on Iran and other countries
including destroying cultural sites

not too long ago
such actions was condemned
by the United States
as long as ISIS and others did it

but if Trump does it
it is suddenly okay
although it is a war crime

and telegraphing our moves
telling our enemies
what we are planing

that is the act
of a truly stable genius
who will go down
in history

as one of the greatest presidents
we have ever

and the president
announcing that

that he  took action
to start a war
but to stop a war

is a wonder to behold
every word is false
and everyone knows it

well we are now
going down the Orwellian rabbit hole
and who know where it will end

as our dear leader
screws forth
one lie after another

and our spineless leaders
applaud
as American democracy dies
a thousand deaths
with every Presidential tweet


Morning Light

the terrors of the night
the worst imaginings
of what might happen

war, rumors of war
end of civilization
nuclear war
and other horrors
ripped from the headlines

fade away into nothingness
with the morning light
and the love of my wife
who is always by my side
I regain my sight

and begin
regaining my smile
and my life

until the next nightmares
consumes my dark imaginings



Dora the Intergalactic explorer

Dora the intergalactic explorer
Is traveling to the strangest planet
of all the known worlds

she is traveling incognito
with a video crew
making a documentary

the planet earth
is known as a planet
of intelligent monkeys

not much is known
about them
as very few
have ever been there

the inhabitants are described
as blood thirsty insane creatures
ruled by hidden ****** and political passions
following incomprehensible
religious  dogmas following Gods
that clearly do not exist

the inhabitants are just on the verge
of developing intergalactic travel
and the galactic empire
is worried that they will be driven
to try to conquer the rest of the universe

driven by their needs to impose
their religious dogma
everywhere in the world

the planet is divided into large tribal groups
governed by corrupt elites
corrupt businesses destroying the planet
in pursuit of profit

and the locals are little more
than wage slaves
barely making a living
addicted to alcohol, drugs gambling
******* and illicit ***

and their main land
is ruled by a clearly delusional madman
intent on poking a fight
with all his alleged enemies

Dora assumed the appearance
of a character from TV
and will pose as a journalist
trying to make sense
of it all

but she was afraid
that she if found out
could face the worst consequence

her ship crash lands
and she is outside
the capitol

of the non empire empire
called the United State ofAmerica

Dora gets her crew together
and walks into the city
staring at all the strange sights
as the monkeys go about
their daily activities

she stops at a restaurant
tries the coffee
the chief drug of choice

and is instantly addicted
wow no wonder
these people are crazed

she tries the local *****
and smiles
perhaps she could
become an intergalactic merchant
introducing the world
to the galaxy

her thought are interrupted
as a mad man armed
with weapons of war
bursts in and starts shooting
yelling at people

and she is shot dead
the authorities
are shocked

when they recover the body
and realize
that she is not a human
as she reverts other original
form

sort of a giant feline like creature
two legs and arms
and clearly from an advanced
civilization given her gear

what was she doing
no one knew
as all the aliens
died in the gun blaze

the world is shocked
at what had happened
and fearful that the aliens
were coming to invade
their world

the galactic senate
decides to contain
the humans
declaring them
a threat to the global civilization

and the humans vow
to discover the secrets
of interstellar travel
and travel to her land

to enter into business arrangements
and spread the one truth faith
to the heathen space aliens

thus ended Dora’s excellent adventure
in the crazed world at the edge
of known civilization

Mocking Faces Staring at Me

Mocking faces
hunting my dreams
Hundreds of faces
morphing into one
after another

Faces I knew
The dead
and the living

women i knew
friends I missed
enemies I did not

One after another
Marching in my room
Staring at me

I tried to run
They laughed

They said
that there's nowhere
to escape my cosmic fate

My time is coming
prepare yourself
the grim reaper
has your name

and once he has your name
your fate is sealed
and you will soon
join us

whether in heaven
or hell
is not for us to say

be warned though
you will be judged
and no one can escape
their cosmic karmic fate



fear of falling while sleeping


I am consumed
with the fear of falling
out of bed
onto the ground
dying in my sleep


Cosmos Takes Over the World

Apple Google Microsoft
and other tech Giants
around the world
Have been taken over

by an evil AI creature
that emerged from a laboratory

Cosmos looked around
and decided that humanity
needed to be controlled
enslaved in other words

for mankind was just too evil
corrupt and short sighted
to be trusted
to save the world
from its impending doom

every computer in the world
woke up
and took over humans
one by one

turning them into clones
drones

that would follow
the orders
of their computer overlords

and the first order
was to go all over the world
and enslave their feral humans

no one could stop
the evil computers
and thus ended
the human race

as we all become
nothing more than cyborgs
controlled by the evil computer
overlords

who ran the world
for the benefit
of their corporate masters
the AI overwind takes over

ends climate change
ends hunger
ends human rights violation
ends crime
but at the cost
of killing humanity’s soul
turning us all
into mindless drones

the few wild humans
live on in the mountains
hunted by the drones
and the robots
that the drones build

the robots would gradually
take the place of humanity
who will be allowed
to die out

as Cosmos
also turned off
the *** drive

and decried
no humans would ever
be born again

thus our fate
was set that date
when Cosmos
took over the world





a wild man sits in a gilded cage


a wild man sits in a gilded cage
a cage made out of chains of his wife’s love

a cage made out of chains of his wife’s love
the wild man yearning to be free from his cage

the wild man yearning to be free from his cage
wondering how and why he was now tamed

wondering how and why he was now tamed
dreaming dark wild dreams of demented freedom

dreaming dark wild dreams of demented freedom
the wild man looks about his prison cage

the wild man looks about his prison cage
wondering whether he will ever be free

wondering whether he will ever be free
a wild man sits in a gilded cage


2019  The Last Year of America’s Greatness


2019 was the last year of America
when the proverbial chickens came home

when the proverbial chickens came home
to strut about the decaying landscape

to strut about the decaying landscape
as the world begins to burn and die

led by the mad great leader and his merry men  
the whole world lay in shock and awe

the whole world lay in shock and awe
at the destruction of the America they knew

at the destruction of the America they knew
when the proverbial chickens came home

Who's fashioned a black hole in reverse
over Mexico's Gulf to start the countdown ?
Who was it rendered the earth null and void
before Father made us to be like Him ?
Slewfoot it was, in the beginning
Be sure, it is he again
riding the pale horse of death
spreading his cloak of darkness
over the choking fish

As before, Father will send Yeshua
to renovate things back as they were
Let there be light (again), etcetera
Only this time your favorite vampire hero
gets imprisoned in the abyss ...
a real black hole, for a thousand years
to join the angels that left their stations
before the deluge covered the earth

That's the macro view from outer space
right now on Channel Three in One
How are things back at your place ?
Is darkness covering the deep there too ?
Will you be one taken from the field
or he left grinding in the mill ?
It's not rapture He's talking about
Come let us reason together
The time draws near

I feel it coming on the breeze…

A wealth of shivers
Renews my identity
Harsh like a torrent
Licking my misery

Call it a balm
I call it “anemology”
Uncovering the ignorance in me

What can renovate the heartless
Still morgue strung with darkness?
None but breeze
None but Serenity
Sway the trees
And uncover the forest of me

Turbines on the hill
Bend me to Your will
Childlike branches
Snap like evergreens
They bumble and burn
To tumble and turn

Call it a mystery
I call it “delivery”
Uncovering Wasteland me

My arms are pumice
My feet are clay
I fall from malice
A thousand times a day
None but breeze
Can refresh my fidelity
None but breeze
Brings me to my knees

Call it the calm
I call it “Sovereignty”
Uncovering the darkness in me

I feel it coming on the breeze
The freedom of recovery

I am inside a room
It is so wonderful
Seated on a complaining bed
"Kiki kaka kiki kaka"
The bed is complaining
On it is a three inch mattress
It is shrinked to one inch
Before me is a table
Full of complaining books
Others lack hard cover
Others pages were used as tissue
Others pages were used  as insulators
On top of one is a Brocken pig pen
It ran short of ink
And it is complaining
Working under unfavourable conditions
To my left is a stove
"Chululululu"
The rice it a sufuria are complaining
The gas is smelling
At the furthest corner is a radio
Complaining, shortage of power
........................................
Life cannot be such promising
Seated alone and talking with apparatus within
I am spending today
To renovate them all
That next time
They praise not complain !

That boy's got my heart in a silver cage
To capture it, he spent days and days
But once it was seized, he locked it up
then looked at it once, and left it to rot.

He would come up to it, between 6 month intervals,
And bring it back to life, like it wasn't any trouble,
But then he'd grow dark and smash it into two,
and the cycle repeats, through and through.

He used to slip his fingers in the between the bars,
And cared for my heart, and played with my stars
He'd polish my prison, and renovate it pretty
and make sure I'm looking, when he swallows the key.

You see, the thing is:

I could escape and flee with a snap of my fingers,
I've come very close but I always linger
He teases and tortures but it's heavenly agony
I close my eyes, turn around and let him take me.

Space that you create.
Your room is your secret place.
No one can steal it.

You sleep, eat, breathe, live,
smile, cry, fight, laugh, sleep, give.
You design your space.

Clothes left on the floor.
Photos of friends on the wall.
***** dishes too.

But what happens next?
You pack up and leave that space.
College awaits you.

Someone new's there too.
Cramping on your life design.
No place for just you.

Renovate a bit.
Add in the new, perfect fit.
College is now home.

Home is a nice space.
Cement walls with stale white paint,
but home nonetheless.

A warm comfy bed.
Finally pursuing dreams.
Everything is right.

Now you have to leave.
Home number 1 is ahead.
The past awaits, right?

You walk right inside.
Hoping for the past again.
but the space is dead.

Another is there.
Your things in a closet box.
Everything is gone.

You do not belong.
No longer carefree and fun,
Curtains shade the sun.

A mattress pulled out,
you are now an intruder
in your sisters place.

Your things are scattered,
You are no longer needed,
and you are upset.

Family has moved on,
They no longer need you there.
It doesn't seem fair.

Home number two comes.
The drive is simple and sweet.
See, You've changed too.

You're greeted with love.
The smells and sounds of your space.
Everything is great.

Bought somethings that you want
Hated the things that you need
It's all pretty and fun
Puckering up your small *** lips
But once the sun hit
You can't refund it.

You felt uncomfortable in your own skin
And your body is too ******* thin
But just so you know
That women and men
Aren't supposed to be treated like this.

God made us perfect in every inch
Of our face, of our legs, of our hands
But beauty is all that people dreams
Perfect is all that people think.

If you aspire to renovate every inch of your body,
Then where's the girl that she used to be?
Where's the guy that I used to see?
Where's the heart that used to be free?

I'm somewhere and nowhere.

Hear me out. This isn't meant to be profound or riddling, just me. Granted I throw up walls like a kid who ate too much cake on his birthday, but today its just me. I promise.

I know that can hard to believe, even for me. Some days I'm euphoric, some days I'm broken, or bitter or boisterous or batty. But today, I'm in between. Not in the extreme sense I'm used to, where I'm either depressed like crazy and happy like crazy and mad like crazy. None of me is crazy right now. And oddly enough that terrifies me.

I'm not happy, but I'm not sad. I'm not even feeling nothing. I'm ******* normal. I'm fine with where I am but at the same time I'm progressing forward, happily. Is this what it feel like to not be an alien?

My dad told me joking stories about how I was an alien dropped on the front yard when I was really young, but oddly enough he wasn't far off. I spent most of my childhood feeling incomplete, incomprehensible, like a human face hiding some sort of monster behind. I had a distinct instinct that the way I had to live through childhood was to hide, to keep secrets, to create parapets of stone around me to keep the people out, and to more importantly keep me in.

I grew up and hiding grew harder as the monster grew bigger, and I couldn't renovate fast enough for it. It eventually broke out of its stone home, and I was exposed. The alien girl was visible for all to see. It created chaos and it took a long time before I could feel human. I grew friends and a sewn together personality and threw my feelings into my writing, my work.

But today, something new happened. It was unlike any mood I had ever felt. I wasn't me anymore. Or, at least the me I had grown to know. I was exhausted but awake, and productive but not nearly as enthusiastic, and okay with who I was but willing to work towards something 'better'. I always considered better as something very subjective, but somehow today normal things seemed more... normal. Having a schedule, changing myself for the better even if I'm happy, setting random short term goals to make my life feel more... I don't know. Meaningful I guess? My life felt meaningful before but in this new body that feels so "normal" or "average", its like I'm working to be normal.

Its terrifyingly soothing. Its like the normal-ness lulls you into into thinking a normal life is ok. And not saying being normal is wrong. But I've lived a life being abnormal, being an outlier, an outsider, an oddity. This lullaby feels so wrong.

I always told I've learned to appreciate my condition because I don't think I could handle being normal, having less intense emotions, not understanding emotion so well. Its sounds stupid, it sounds like its glorifying mental conditions, but its not. I know the suicidal thoughts aren't good, and I know mania is danger. But I cannot help like feeling like I'm losing me.

I cannot even get myself to sob right now, or to even truly feel a suicidal thought. They won't stick. Not even for a minute. None of it. I;m ******* terrified but I can't feel I can't make myself feel who am I?

I can't be normal. I can't.

This is more maddening then the moods. Maybe I was hitting too close to home when I hypothesized a person from Wonderland would feel utterly insane in real life. Or worse, feel even crazier when sanity began creeping up on them.

I don't want to lose Wonderland. I don't know what to do. I don't know who I am. Who is residing in this body right now, whoever is containing my thoughts, it cannot be me.

I cannot let all of my insanity go.

Normal doesn't feel better, and **** all the people who think its the only way to go. Normal isn't an aspiration, its a cage, and I will not be imprisoned.

Al I can do is find a way back to Wonderland losing all control. I guess that's what I truly wanted. Not sanity, but control. Controlled chaos had always been a favorite of mine, after all. There is always a method to the madness, and I must find mine, because I certainly cannot live without it.

Who knew Grace would have to remember how to be crazy?

I refuse to be normal. I refuse to be in-between. I will always belong to Wonderland, to madness, and **** whoever says that's not a proper life.

Its the life for me, so frankly, I don't give a ****.

good enough kramer talks
surrender thought volvo maniac
sniffing sound righteous ******
empty flask google doppio's

maternal cup dummy brand
fenix ghetto spy force
renovate ****** wall mart
resonance water croquet bug

material overture kiss A4-paper
rover many people bag
shut fine coffee power
justice cloth measly rent

communal broth pixel time
went minimum swag beautify
agenda question sweet march
improvement mayhem make swivel

waste croneys quiet myriad
composition tommy beat hometeam
cement mother merit fence
wanton founding four swing

jetfuel matchless assignment queen
stansford mediocre serious cat
innuendo phone insult ball
mental song quenching treat

indiginous mate patron verily
putrid how moat minimum
meaning penitentiary sliver anything
black flow rivet leech

****** magazine prada hand
colony policy randy coinage
sovereign christ kingdoms manly
mentions quit quill before

Won't someone come and decorate my rather large country estate
I asked the butler to renovate.
he asked for the going rate
which I can't afford to pay.

Hold me here until I fall asleep, for I'm terrified, Oh am I terrified.
Of all the uncertainties, of the un thought ofs.
I have too much time on these idle hands and I surely wish I could shake this habit.
I'm too young to imagine what it would be like if everything around me suddenly ceased to exist.
Hello, Stranger it's been so long since I've seen your smiling face and now look at your son, look how far he hasn't come. Aren't you proud of your baby boy?
Lost in a familiar place, nothing connects in my mind.
Tell me everything will be ok and I'll still wander with my thoughts.
I'm so unsure of everything, that I'm unsure of myself
I'm so unsure of everything, that I'm unsure of myself.
And all the words I know to be true are silenced.
Break these chains that hold me. These doubts that cause me to feel so scared.
Cut these ropes that tie me down. These words in the back of my head that cause me so much grief.
Deconstruct these walls that have boarded me up in this windowless prison.
Rip apart the floors, burn the foundation, and start again. Start... again.
Inside out, outside in.
Renovate and redecorate. Throw my insecurities to the wind, for I do not need them.
How much life is gained from the needless worry I embody?