Nightwalkin' Rap: my boy and I

me and my sapo

we the one and only gestapo

naw you can't contend

don't even try to pretend

cause we aint playin

we're straight up sayin

we the bomb

gonna explode all over ya like Vietnam

no we aint happy about it

just don't talk no smack

cause we'll bust on out widdit

you'll be walkin crazy & outta wack

we aint all about the hate

just trying to survive in this hostile state

so if you got love to give

we'll straight up return it and peace will live

but if all ya got is mal-intent

we're ready & willin to repent

give us your tired your weary

that we massage they're back and feet

don't give us grief

cause for that we got no relief

give us your hungry

your poor

that we share our bread and door

and all shall be released someday

we'll all be released from the hate

with love we will satiate

released from the fear

walking down dark washes

always an open ear

we shall be released from the violent crime

from pestilent grime corroding the society in which we dwell

and life on earth will depart from hell

and their truly will be peace on earth

and all the higher powers will occupy the same hearth.

come ye all my brothers & sisters my fathers and mothers

gather about me and sing out loud sing out strong

sing with me for peace for eternity and beyond.


let there be peace on earth, and let it begin w/ me let there be... the peace that was meant to be with god as father & mother siblings all are we let us walk with each other in perfect harmony...


© July 2006

speaking in tongues

ye're possibly maybe not the person i would ye were

when i met ye and then what i would ye could attain

what am i doing here speaking in yon archaic jargon, would i even be what i wote i be

which is what?

some educated scholar- academia brainwashed

wallowing in the past- borrowing creativity from dead forefathers and mothers

but more so the former because well they just seemed to get heard more

borrowing resentments

how about we all stop crying and whining

resenting and talking shit

venting, complaining and just get on with it

this business called living

and succeeding

and just being happy

or sad or angry but being right now

right here - in this moment

naught but a bunch of wussies

girly girls and nancy boys

hard ass ice queens & machismo misogynists

or veritable facsimiles thereof

lets all just take a collective midol

how about that chill pill, whens it coming along?

do whatever ya need

disassociate, lubricate, narcoticate but do it

without the kvetching, without the woe-in is me

without the rue-ing and should've-ing and could've-ing

do it just do it

and do it now

cause we can bitch and we can moan until the end of time

but nothings ever changing till we start accepting each other with compassion

appreciating, recognizing, representing -we all gotta represent what we know to true

claiming our power not our lowly stations

not our frustrations

claiming our higher selves our god selves and teaching our children to do the same.



© summer 2006

* The Hole *

I wrote this when i lived in berkeley, circa 1994, It is meant to be a conversation betwixt two people, i never really finished it, or maybe it is finished. it reminds me of one of those acting exercises.



There's a fukkin' hole in your head!

Wha',,, Hunh?

A hole, man. Dammit, That's fukkin' sick!

Dude, what are you talkin about?

Right here, Dude!

Ow, stop that! What the Hell!

How can you not know there's a hole in your fukkin' head?

I don't know man, I don't see the back of my head very often.

Well, how the hell did it get there?

I dunno, man I have been havin wierd dreams lately.

What the hell does that have to do with a hole in your head. How can you talk about dreams all non-chalant like & shit, when
theres a hole in your fukkin' head. You could be getting some kinda infection or sumpthin. You could be fukkin dyin', man!

Do I look like I'm fukkin' dyin'? Now listen, I was havin this dream that my brain was rotting up - dryin' out or sumpthin.

So you've had someone drill a hole in your fukkin' head to find out?

No, Dammit! You're really startin to piss me off!

Wait a minute! I'm pissin you off. Hey, I didn't drill the hole in your fukkin' head, ya moron! You got a damn hole in your damn head - excuse me if I act concerned!

Look! I don't know anything about that hole! This is the first time I even knew it was there. All I know is something really fukked up is happening to me, and I can't quite put my finger on it.

I can.

OWWW! Dammit, man! Leave it alone, for chrissakes!

© 1994

shit talkin

Indianapolis is where i took my first shit

maybe on my mothers tummy

and on & on to Barranquilla, Colombia

where i daren't drink the water lest my shit run amok

and i musta shat sometime or another in Columbus, Ohio

and the smoky mtns, and some other places in between

i am quite sure i shat in Santa Fe New Mexico,

and on Big Mountain near flagstaff A Z

California's Bay Area, San Diego, and Humboldt County too

why i shat my way from top to bottom of that golden state

right down into Tijuana Mexico.

Back in Arizona,

Oh so many crappers and commodes welcomed the waste i did expunge

in Tucson, Bisbee, and Tombstone too

perhaps i took a shit on the same spot as big nose Kate

I've shat in many towns in these united states and some beyond

and i now i am ready to go global in places where i might defecate

unload my body of its fecal contents- purify- detox, oh yeah!

i will shit in Toronto, Montreal, and the Yukon

Machu Pichu, Stratford upon Avon

i should like to shit where the great William

Shakespeare might once have shat.

and then I'll shit places where one never shakes with the ass wiping hand.

Let me grunt and groan in the Hague

Sweat and pray at the top of Mt. Kilimanjaro

and all over this beautiful planet

purging and singing while i let it all out!!

© August 2006

a poem inspired by Collisions With Fate, by skie bender, fire starter press

perhaps i am but a weed

sprouting thru the cracks of this asphalt,

heavily trod ,

city street.

a weed to sprout up

force its way thru to reckoning

despite mans decision to put

a sidewalk here

to direct the way we walk this earth

i am the beautiful weed

that sprouts multicolored flowers

upon its back

& perhaps a few thorns

the weed that will entangle myself about all

i encounter

& impede the growth

of any who try to rise above me

their gloating petals shall fall

lifeless upon my back

& my roots deep down

in this manmade concrete smothered soil

shiver with anticipation

you may call me

monster

but I only wish to see

feel

and bask in the sun as much as you.

_________starbucks, irvington, ne 15th & broadway, pdx, OR, ©friday the 13th of june, 2008, 0713hrs

how is an ankle unlike a question mark or was it a comma?

Somebody asked the question how is an ankle unlike some form of punctuation I can't remember which one, perhaps it was a comma in any case I liked the sound of question mark better. So that's what I wrote about.

here is what i know about ankles:
ankles can be sexy, they peek out about certain fine shoewear and some not so fine, they are round and sometimes the skin upon them is smooth and creamy white or a nice deep brown, if you lotion them they might glisten in the light of a sunny afternoon. an ankle whose foot is adorned by sandals or a carelessly hangin flip flop is a precious thing.
some ankles cry out to be stroked and loved and they are very sad because oft they go unnoticed, with attention being given more to the fine toned leg that looms above it, or even the dainty painted toes. the ankle being on the side might never even be glimpsed, my poor ankles are little old ladies who don't even expect attention, due to my love of the boot.

The boot can be an ankles worstest enemy, in this regard. however my little old gals, can't help but be fond of the boots i wear, as they protect them from bashing and little rocks shooting up and marring their varicosed surface. [uhm, they aren't really all that varicosed, i am young yet] unlike those nice little dress shoes whose sides come just under the ankle, and not only is there danger of rocks and curbs and steps but the other shoes own heal often raps agonizingly against the ankle of its fellow shod foot. And damn, i really hate when that happens.

An ankle is not an adams apple, and thats great, because it means everyone has them, and mens ankles can be just as nice as womens. However, they may be sad, because very few of the footwear marketed for men, allow the viewing of the ankle, except in the summer when a man might wear flip flops, or burkenstock. But a lot of the men, i found myself attracted to wouldn't be caught dead in a burkenstock, and rarely don a flip flop. in any case their ankles are nice when they're golden tanned or deep chestnut and the little hairs of their leg are sweetly framing the top, but not so nice if that hair comes down anywhere real close and especially not around the ankle. Then one has to question if they should be date hunting at the zoo.

I truly love ankles, and well, i aim to pay more attention to them, and even let my old gels out once winter is over.

A question mark goes at the end of an inquiring sentence.
A comma separates sentences with like thought, ehr i think.

flash flood nostalgia

flood o memories
flood o memories comin quick
so i can't even see what they are
can't get one whole clear picture in my mind
it's my body
is rememberin
that kind of nostalgia hits
ya like a ton of bricks
and i just thought how
i understand
i understand at some moments
i get so completely
about sucide
i understand mr. marcus barrett
understand how perhaps u must have felt
joe mcnamara
and ron totton
and it's just not
anything you can put in words
nothing you couuld
ever explain
to all those do gooders
wish you'd called them
before you went and did that
perhaps you just had nothing to say
and that's the problem
when you run out
a single thing
to say
and the emotion envelops you.

first boy

the first boy

has changed now

the first boy woho was my freak of nature

laughing, silly one – sugarlumps

is now grown nigh manhood

iron cage fighter

i don't know him so much anymore

and second boy

whose mamma sick from post partum exhaustion

perhaps

bade me take him to sleep with me

second boy who i never really got a chance to know as well as

first boy

now weaves words with a beauty & passion

that i find myself in awe of

inspired

and these two

now almost men

remind me of how rapidly time

doth flit by

perhaps so that when third boy

my own boy

has reached this ages

i will not be

so surprised

perhaps to remind me

not to let him grow astray.



© August 2007
a poem written in contemplation of my first two nephews. In this poem I call my own boy third, though he is actually fourth, because, I never really new my third nephew when he was little.

I am anxious about this job, I must remember who I am and that this is an opportunity to become more free. I ahve been dreaming resentments of people- dreaming resentments of neil of christina of my brothers and sisters. i have been wondering if i will get stuck here in indianapolis. wondering if i could entertain the notion of staying here- i've grown attached to the wee nephew, Draken, & wonder how i'll feel about going away; taking Andrees away. Draken's brothers are about to leave and his mama was talking about how it's going to be sad for him- when they are suddenly not here every day & i thought how it might be for him when i leave, him coming upon a mess of blankets and pillows and his parents must let him search amongst them to insure that i am not there, aslumber. Not that I am here everyday, but still he may pick up his toy phone and try to call me, stand at his gate and call my name in his urgent little tone.
At least hopefully before i leave his brothers will be back- but then waht of Sapo getting used to his cousins and getting ot know Draken and the brothers, Mozes and Levi.
But all of that is some time away and i hope that i can stand it, working for the dept of health processing birth and death certificates, hope the proximity to the circle makes the job more bearable. hope that i can stand staying here for perhaps a year.
I have been deciding that I am not a loser- not a failure- i just did not do so good with motherhood and especially single mother hood. I and Andrees have not been on vacation, though I may have not always made all the best choices. We have been struggling and i have done the very best i possibly knew how at the time, and i will continue to learn how to do better.

Draken's Diddy: sing it with a twang

draken is adorable, adorable

and i love him so

draken is adorable becau-

au-

ause because he's

gottacurl hangin front his eye

draken is adorable adorable

because he likes to laugh & play

hee hee

oh draken is my friend and i love him so

draken is adorable

chatterin to me

o yes he is adorable

speakin half in tongues

he dance and run and call my name

and i love him so.



a little diddy i made up, singing in a little country music style voice, [a.k.a. james jordan, , of Caliche Con Carne style] for my wee nephew, draken.
©August 2007

Hummingbird Haiku

flitter here & there
how precious little hummingbird
dancing on the wind

Mother Sad: For Sarika

brilliant the wet green grass

and skies of luminous silver

still her sorrow deepens

whilst jolly sounds of the laughing youngest

unaware

drift about the house

and the mother will smile a bit

through her sorrow

as she tries to avoid the ticking tock

of hours passing

til she says good bye for now

to those whom first she bore.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind: a mini film review

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, manages to be heartwarming, heartwrenching, entertaining, interesting and a romantic comedy at the same time; unlike your usual romantic comedy, it does not follow a regular path from beginning to end. I was particularly pleased that the the relationship of the two main characters was developed mostly in flashback.

The film was beautifully filmed and well acted. In a supporting role Mark Ruffalo is charming and funny and I was pleasantly surprised to find Elijah Wood playing the creep rather than likeable character. Kate Winset is magnificent as the multilayered emotionally discordant, wry, charming and witty Clementine and Jim Carrey actually pulls off a heartbroken confused average guy without overacting.

What Remedy

What remedy, I ask to no one in particular,

is there for discontent?

And the wind sweeps by whispering

'be like me, be like me! '

It doubles back and washes over with its gentle breeze,

lifting a tendril of my hair cooling my brow.

I've tried that though, drifting from here to there,

and so it can be thrilling to sweep in and out,

know people for a bit – drift around them a beat and move on,

but perhaps what I haven't fully grasped is how to be still.

'Stillness?

Bah! ' says the wind, 'who needs it? '

'I do.' a murmur from across the way

I look out into the parking lot from my perch on the Starbuck's patio,

and there on a tiny island of wildlife, I see a single tree.

'Bah! ' again says the wind, 'You are not so still.'

And with this it sweeps out and about the tree,

in and among it's branches, which begin to shimmy and shake.

'You see! ' says the wind coquettishly.

And the tree giggling in the delightful dance, says to me,

'You fool we have no answers for you,

Just Be! '



© August, 2005, Starbucks Cafe, NE Fremont, Portland, OR

the woman in the pea coat

The woman in the green coat

the kind of green pea coat i automatically

associate with drifter,

homeless?

and her golden hair a coiffure of disheveled dreadlocks

she sat lounging at the Starbuck's uptown Burnside

smiled as i sang along with the music

'never got over those blue eyes...'

her own eyes shimmered pleasantly

her face was beautiful, i thought;

and she wanders about now

here at the bookstore

where I'm soon to clock in

browsing the art section

a peaceful smile playing upon her lips

such a piece of art herself


24 February 2006, Border's Cafe, Portland, OR

attachment

i want to clutch you to my breast

and suck your soul inside me

i want to wrap my legs around you

and suck your essence inside me.

yes i guess i'm a little needy

have always been a little too needy

I want to thrust my tongue into your mouth hungrily

i want to drink up all of your saliva

I want to feel your heartbeat with mine

til the end of time
til the end of time.

winter 06/07

places most odd

cavalcades, myriads, calliope at the big top

weaving words, wisdom's breath exhaled falteringly

there's a moment when dialog lapses

verbally & conceptually

and one is simply aware

immersed in the everything

almost catatonic

every cell is part and intermingled with

all the fibers of the whole of it all

this material land.

I am of the cars passing by

of the cement beneath my feet.

Laughter, chatter about

is wringing in my own head.


I am of the bricks of this building

I slide into their joints,

exploring every air pocket

and I am brought back to this consciousness

on this earthly plane

by this repetitive voice,

chipper and bright

so near to me and I am in this plastic chair again

and always us at this iron table,

my iced red eye neglected rests upon,

and this voice repeating

mama

looky, look mama it's an old fashioned bike,

timothy's riding an old fashioned bike!

who?

oh.

and so it is

I am awake of sorts

watching he and she

watching them ride on by

I am here and yet still there

I can still feel in my shoulders the vibrations

the crisp solid clench upon my muscles

of squishing and crunching myself amid the bricks of this epic café

sometimes I like to hide in places most odd.


© 10 April 2005,4: 15pm, Epic Cafe, Tucson, AZ
published in Downtown Tucsonan May of 2005 issue

so many things

So Many Things

Spring is in the air

birdsong abounding

and reaches me

here on the patio of my brothers house

little stretch of tucson desert

casts adrift its aromas

and yet winter lingers in my heart

because i am not sharing

this beautiful day with you

i wonder how long it will take

for the heart ache to dull

the emptiness of my hand

tugs at my conscience

i tried to feel your hand in mine

last night while watching sappy romantic comedies

there are so many things to miss about a person.


© March 07, Tucson, AZ

doesnt anybody realize

doesn't anybody realize

i just want them to come back for me

my celestial parents

i just want to crawl back in that womb

cling to that umbilical cord

while mama's heart

beats

resonating and filling up my water world

sending me back out to the cosmos

so i look for that shelter here on earth but i've found nowhere

so far

that feels quite so safe

I haven't done so well falling in love with myself



© 29 April 2007

shadow person

I am not a bad mother

just a different kind

just different

i don't have to be a shadow person

i am trying to remember

can't quite remember who i really am

i'm just falling right now and again falling asleep

the pain is razor sharp the panic rising feels like drowning

i don't want to be a shadow person anymore

dependent on others to keep me upright.



© May 2007, Oaklandon, IN