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Do u hear me whisper at night under your breath as you continue your cypher and cycle?
Have u felt me linger under the deep sunrise as I open my eyes
And our hands touch and I thank you?
Do you feel scared in the rain for the change
Or is it warm and cooling? Is it Encouraging?
Do you bask in your questions or dread them or let yourself carry them out and unpack them
Are they treasures to you like they are to me
Is it gold or emerald or diamonds or ruby
Are you lovely or loving
Fleeting or perpetual
Perplexed or perfect
absolute or for the world to share?
Can I make you both?
Can you make me whole?

a couple of parkbench moments-

Time/ people/ multiplying/ footsteps/ crossing
Do they excel too fast for me to acknowledge the ever present beauty of simplicity?
Has humanity overlooked me
As it leaves paper trails of cash and receipts across a tormented dirty pavement,
now a non living earth too late for revival?
Is this abyss our basis for survival?
As the wondering wind blows tugging at the surface of my skin
I ponder the conception of this social genesis
Where cell phones rule over everyday communal interactions
Millions of media images swarming the night sky competing with divinitys stars like an ultra pixilated electric black hole
sweeping across a metropolis.
I long for the return of the morning
with visions of dreams still fresh at thought,
Yesterdays troubles rested on the bedpost
assuring that this is a new day
Life’s lurkin around the curtain waiting for me to unsquint my eyes
Praying for me to see more clearly
not just thru ocular lenses but thru the windows reflecting the visions inside
Where so easily I can find the words, in the perfect language, with the
perfect definition, intention, and auditory inflection to express my wanting to simply connect back
2 one.
& my soul can’t help but ask what can be sweeter than that?
…
In meditative response
I respire
Taking in one more breath of air as I contemplate
our parallel addiction to growth.
Just wanting to be up there
high as the wise trees that hover above me
I long to have a story to tell of my own
My dreams reflect my gratitude, my visions, and positive transformations in life
Wishing to express and record
I save words in loose leaf pocketbooks as chapter beginnings left open to never finish following the pattern of infinity
I hold my palms open to receive and to offer graceful inspiration
continuing a cycle of maintaining balance
And I am learning to help myself
Pennin’ better poems and following thru
my visions of light beyond curious darkness
aware of the beauty found in stars during a true night sky
balance pushes me closer to the horizon to realize that in moments the sun will rise and I must be ready
because who else will but me

free write to get you to write free

You’re sitting at your desk but I’m standing behind the chipped paint on your walls
Behind the sticky post it notes that remind you to return those books you picked up and what albums you’ve been meaning to cop at the record store
I’m soaked in that green tea that’s cold now that you drank to calm those nerves rushing through your system
And I ooze through those achy fists that you squeeze to alleviate the pain of writing too damn hard
I’m at the top right corner of the room that you stare up at when you’re thinking of what to say
And resting in the curl of your brow when you’re deep in thought
I embrace you internally
And I leave you with a smile that’s so perfectly perplexed
Who am I?
I’m your sense of creativity
Your artistic serendipity
Positively provocative
I provoke mental notes
I have no sense of time, so time can’t tell when I’ll come by next but if you sit quietly enough you’ll sense that I’m already there
ready and set to burst out at the first signal of final absolute release.
But can I just take the time to tell you
That You are the Positive Motivating force within My life
You appreciate me?
Man I appreciate you!
You are the tool to my revolution
The voice to this muse
My juice is squeezed from the Freshest fruit
from the tree of life so I’m good for you
I inspire you to keep movin’ from soul II soul
So I can spread the word of what’s deep inside yours
I am that mutagenic gene that influences you to generate into that intellectual virus
ready to aesthetically infiltrate and infect an entire population not yet equipped to find a cure
Yet together we heal the world
You don’t know it, but I study the phrenology of your brain
Trying to gain the best free knowledge of how to get to you
Your Sensations heighten as I grip from your fingertips your pen
It’s my mind, your hand
Is my heart (you're dope golda, if you're reading this)
And the hardest part is always the start
But once you know you have me,
There’s no point in letting go because its up to me to let you be
So free yourself from those writers blocks,
the times you waste your time thinking you think too hard
I’m sending you subliminal messages all around the room
Throughout your day I was shouting out from those dog eared pages you marked that inspired you
From those three random bolded words in that magazine that just popped out at you
I spoke to you while you were speaking to that long lost friend you ran into on the street choppin it up into those 7 minute long conversations that update and uplift you
And I made you run for cover from that vicious ass bomb left on that wall you passed as you were biking
I sparked that twinkle in your eye as that fly girl got on the same bus ride and made you just wanna write down a long list of adjectives to describe how damn beautiful the day got after she coincidentally sat next to you
I am your butterflies
I am your third eye
I’m what keeps you awake with those life theories thought processes late at night
So don’t fight
Embrace, indulge, inhale me
Any thoughts reflections releasing inhibitions it’s poetry
So seek poetic justice
And inform me
And inform the rest of the world
What wonder wanders in your mind lately

wtf i got a paper due at 10

My family always told me that blood is thicker than water
And looking down at the bloody scrape on my knee, or the fatty bruise on my elbow, or the scratch and bite mark on my cheek,
it didn't yet make sense to me.
All I knew was that me and my brother rough housed too much,
and HE should be the one to get the belt, or the hanger,
or my personal most feared: slap on the hand by my dad's unsurmountable heavy hitting palm...
like a high-five gone terribly wrong
But those heavy hands made an indellible mark not just on the top of my hands,
but the frontside of my morality,
the backside of my dignity,
the insides of my soul-to-be
because after every hit, those words were always repeated: blood is thicker than water.
Yea, water flows, it promotes growth,
It is the sign, the key to life.
But blood... blood seeps through your bones
and it flows through interstitial crevices only the most familiar know,
and it's the connection that makes that neverending circulation around your heavy beating heart.
that same heart that grows not from water,
but from the days your mom held you close to hers when you were scared that those butterflies in the backyard might sting you,
or the times your grandma used to pray the rosary outside preschool class just to let you know that she was still there and didn't leave you...
or those nights your dad would carry you AND your brother from the car into the house after those late night fam party sessions,
or the time your brother gave you a piggy back ride all the way home b/c your slipper broke when you were running from that mad old lady hella heated cuz you were playing on her lawn.
See, blood flows from every outlet of the people who made you, take you
for what you are, and what you've become,
and are proud... for the mere fact that you're their daugher, sister, niece, cuuz, grandaughter...
and this Fuels you.
it IS what gives you life.
it IS the key to infinity
where you drop down on your knees and pray that when thy kingdom come,
they'll be there too.
Because water is clear and comprehensible, understood by all of humankind.
But blood rushes deep from the hearts that will always understand YOU.

flourescent/red/tired/recklessly

Driving northbound on the 101...
A flourescent red sign read to me in bright bold letters: Stay Alive
As tired as I was, suddenly my eyes woke up and glanced a little harder
Taking it as more than just a sign, I thought of why these words chose me to read them
My eyebrows curled, my mind watered as my thoughts began marinating in its own creative juices.
Questions begain invading the corners of my brain:
Have i lost life lately, or has life lost me?
Stay Alive
Have I just been recklessly going thru the motions and not really taking it all in for what its realy worth?
Stay alive
Have i let lessons pass me w/o learning them yet?
stay alive
Am I aware that this life was made specific tailored to the unique sillhouette of my soul so much to forget that deep down i'm the only one who can truly evoke change in myself?
Stay Alive
Hella quiet, it was silent
My brother who was in the car with me probably thought i fell asleep...
Shit life had probably thought that too
And exhaling, I sat back glad
that this sign caught my eye because at that moment in time
I stopped time stopped,
but i stayed alive despite this contemplative infection hitting me
this reflection through poetry
this symbolism that maybe this pisces read too deep...?
but fuck it, this message wasn't gonna pass me
and its not gonna pass you either because
the world is just too infinite and unknown to let you think that it revolves around your own gravitational pull
so humble yourself in your place of miniscule time and matter relative to the universe's history
physics can't physically explain why we're all here naturally anyway.
Just take these parallel coincidental interactions as
signs to provoke action in your life each day
Got something to say? Say it. Got ideas to share? Own it. Got a chance to love? Risk it.
embrace Existence
Life live
stay alive

ceasefire

It’s silent because spoken words outside imply
Confirmation of the broken words I feel inside
Bullets pass my side swarming across my face
I’m hiding, too afraid to use my most powerful gun, my tongue that God has armed me with,
It’s a civil warfare intruding my whole system and I’m having difficulty retaliating
It’s Humiliating, I’m dazed, wounded, and confused of it
I unload my ammunition and head for safety, and i set my captives free
Just for one day I let this prisoner of war smell the fresh air around me
Amongst this dark cloud of fire where I can’t see
I found the fresh air I fiended encompassing me
And I’m lifted, feeling different, uplifted higher, heaven is my new atmosphere
Not necessarily fear but lack of familiarity
And I wonder if this is a dream
At a ceasefire, but not quite at peace.

the positive motivating force within my life

To Creativity:
You’re the positive motivating force within my life.
You’re the retrospect to my introspect
Sometimes I don’t understand your dialect, but
Respect.
You’re what I think of outside the box.
You welcome change with open arms.
With an open mind, I try to find that strength within me.
To break through ignorant uninformed barriers,
Delve into the unknown,
Dabble with a pure form
Of peaceful resistance.
Don’t get me wrong though, you are a true renegade.
You are a voice for the underdog, the force for the minority.
You stand up for those that step up and not step in
To bullshit.
And without you there’d be no CHANGE in THE WORLD,
no diversity, no complexity.
There’d be no collective exchange of brilliant ideas,
no minds overflowing with thoughts of a passionate cause
Or no finding of ones very own self.
Because you teach us how to appreciate, share and educate
And reach those everyday epiphanies.
So, creativity,
Should you ever feel the need to wonder why,
Let me know