#0142 - Everything is...

Everything
is as elementary
as you elect to make it.

Everything
is as deep
as you decide to dive.

#0118 - Moments: 11.6.17

"Je t'emmerde."
"Je t'emmerde."
"No, you're rolling the r. Don't roll the r."
"Je t'emmerde."
"Closer, but you're still trying to roll the r. And make sure you don't pronounce the d too hard. 'Je t'emmerde'."
"Je t'emmerde."
"Closer, but still..."


Teaching my friend to curse in French,
I stand on the beach
—the sand is littered with remorseless spiked seeds;
learn to cope with them—
and we watch
as white sheets,
held rigid by the racing wind,
propel katamarans through the water.
As the sky clears,
the sun shines brightly upon the joyrides
maneuvering across an infinite expanse of
blue
barely separated from the sky
by the vague line of the
horizon.

These friends I've known only for weeks,
and in only weeks we will again be apart.
Try hard enough, and you only need a moment
to cement a spontaneous bond.
Bare feet dig cozily into warm sand
as we compare the redness of our skin,
laugh our rears off at those
a little too close with the waves,
drop jaws at the audacity of a certain daredevil
(how does one manage to sheer in half a metal pole?).
One might think us eternal friends.

Racing across Neptune's domain,
stand and salute to these passerbies
whose evanescent presence
forges permanent memories
and stupendous stories.
Quell the worries of 3 months away,
and live to laugh another day.


Mission Bay Aquatic Center
San Diego, USA
SoCal Summertime

#0117 - Tears

Implying that tears of joy and tears of woe
are different.

The smallest speck
of the expansive ocean:
saltine water falling indifferently
and unnoticed
in the span of the universe.

Yet, the consequence of their arrival:
as if their weight alone
plummets into the ground,
creating endless earthquakes
and tumultuous tsunamis.

These calamities will occur.
The question remaining is
whether they will drown out the world,
or if they will lift it all up
with the rising tide.

#0115 - "Blind"

Blind,
he began to hear
and smell
and feel.

He uncovered a world
which had always been there,
but whose presence he had never felt—
never thought to perceive.

#0110 - Musings

{NaPoWriMo 2017 ~ Day 29}

I

I wouldn’t say I’m sober now,
But neither am I liquored up.
I guess I’m just preoccupied
With existential thoughts.

And that is why I seem distraught:
While part of me’s awaiting death,
The second part is clinging on
To this simplistic life.

I’m floating by and trudging ‘long,
I’m hoping that a glimmer of
Enlightenment will find its way
To this imprisoned mind.

I wish I were a bird because
I’d have to move through air instead
Of trudging through these expecta-
-tions, sorely overwhelmed.

II

You’d think that air would rightly be a breeze to travel through.
But something ‘bout these sounds and stares keeps holding back my feet:
These horrid expectations that are always finding me
I’d rather have replaced with clubs or knives of crimson hue.

This populace is filled with people that refuse to care:
A massive presentation of this world’s fatuity.
These ersatz feelings pave the way for thoughts that torture me:
That everyone is simply waiting for my mind to tear.

The stares devoid of any thought replace the dreams of past;
Forgetting what they once lived for, these people are now grey—
Their dull indifference seeks to spread its deadly grip to me.
I’m chained and beat by glares and stares, but hold my ground, steadfast.

III

There are a million paths through life, and e-
-very one is forked to form a million more.

At every gateway there’s a second door
To lead you faster to your final end.

It offers you a short respite, an end
To all the gloomy things that may assault

Your mind and propagate your countless faults,
Which never cease to bring torment and doubt.

Thus, Death is there, awaiting your last bout,
Which drives you grimly, quickly ‘cross the edge—

That ever-present scythe with sharpened edge,
That cloak of darkness standing motionless.

Don’t let yourself be drawn by what Death says;
It’s easy to be happy when some nic-

-eties find you, but not so otherwise.
If life were not made up of darker times,

The better times would not be so sublime.

#0102 - "Patience"

{NaPoWriMo 2017 ~ Day 21}

If patience lasts for centuries
and rashness lasts for only days,
then which of these is always bound
to go a longer way?

#0101 - 420

{NaPoWriMo 2017 ~ Day 20}

So strange a day
to commemorate
to getting high
on smoke divine.

If days were so readily
committed to steadily
elevating family/community/society
rather than one's doped-up psyche
we might be in a better place,
pummeling ignorance with steady pace.

"Blazing it" is fun, sure,
but I propose a day for,
instead of burning toxic seeds,
planting convalescent seeds

of knowledge.

#0087 - Thought 18

{NaPoWriMo 2017 ~ Day 6}

One true difference exists between wilting and shedding:

Either way, the bad stuff falls away.
In shedding, a better you manifests;
In wilting, there is nothing left when the detritus falls away.

#0084 - Spare Time

{NaPoWriMo 2017 ~ Day 3}

Who could know what you do in your spare time?
Do you dance with angels?
With devils?
Are you searching for affection
or, faced
s d r a w k c a b,
just direction?

These moments, these times,
do you find to be sublime
or do you simply lie
in everlasting wait
for this lifetime to abate
its slings and arrows?

Perpetual love,
perpetual sleep,
perpetual hate,
perpetual peace.
With which endless path
do you hold your allegiance?
Or do you rather sit in indifference
as moments pass, silence
as your reaction to nascent
cataclysms or confused parlance?

I won't take the time
to guess;
I'll only be half-right
at best.

#0082 - Thoughts

{NaPoWriMo 2017 ~ Day 1}

Flowing through the crevices within my mind
Establish reality, which I survive;
To fall or to thrive is
A question of mine and
Whose answer is lost in some ditch of my mind.

#0080 - Haiku VII

We are all absorbed
In our life goal of demon-
-izing the different.

#0076 - 18

I wonder what has changed so drastically in the neurotic synapses in my brain
that as of 5 days ago I can now go out for a relaxing smoke break;
I can now give new life and shelter to my own human being;
I can now swear my endless loyalty to a pretty girl;
I can now drink my way into a blissful oblivion;
I can now fire bullets in foreign lands;
and buy 700 horses set on wheels.

From what I know, the hidden corners of my school smell like nicotine and marijuana;
infants have been birthed by girls still attending classes I passed long ago;
girls much younger than I have been with men much older than I;
boys much younger than I have taken sacramental wine;
teens have taken up arms in nationalistic service;
and 16-year-olds have crashed cars.

So why do I now suddenly hold a skeleton key in my hand?

#0063 - Haiku VI

Wind moving through leaves:
It makes them fall gently, and
Without brazen noise.

#0051 - Cinquain II

Fire rises,
Always heading
Upwards to the blue sky.
I wish I could emulate its
Courage.

#0048 - "I apologize if I am anachronistic"

I apologize if I am anachronistic or be-
-hind the times. I promise I don't mean to be.
This is the tumultuous hive of the bumblebee.

These sounds and colours are my muse; they're
Ever-present and never lacking in their
Brilliance. I at once am not and simultaneously at once am here and there.

It isn't just an éclat of unmoving colours I see,
But rather a swirling, turbulent sea
Of something like alphabet soup, since each wave forms a rolling "C."

Under the surface of the waters, everything is a manta ray
Whose slick skin is alight with the sun's ray.
A singsong voice in my head sings do and re

With an eventual, sonorous mi,
Which expresses its perception of the world to me.
I adore but never mimic the sun and moon and moon and stars in their beautiful bigamy.

#0047 - Haiku III

Placid pondwater.
Even a slight breeze of wind
Can form ripples, waves.

#0046 - Cinquain I

The sky,
In all of its
Everlasting beauty,
Is too distant: I can never
Touch it.

#0045 - Exploration #1

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#0033 - Haiku II

Flames provide warm light.
Though, if one ventures too close
They'll likely be burned.

#0021 - Thought 4

Love and pain reside
in the same part of your heart.

Be wary of which you choose to hold on to forever.