the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Sunday, February 28, 2010


I've been crumpling notes
Now their ghosts are fulfilled,
Their hauntings slid off of the cold window sill.
They now float with the flakes;
We can't correct mistakes once they're made,
But we can put bells in our hells
To make the worst words sound great.
Exercise heart and remark on its strength
All shot up with holes, but with no goal to sink.
The cardiac muscle was stretched,
Now relaxed since the past is caught up,
There's no need to look back.

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Mr. 500

Whether our blocking is static
Or the facts start to change,
Every day's breath is one more to say:
The show must go turn the page!
What a life so perfectly pitched and staged
With Murphy's law, a perfect storm,
And ending score perfectly played.
These lines aren't lies I'm paid to say
They're alternate spellings to
This name that I've made, comprised of
Christmas music on a cold night
A someone by your side,
A fire in your eyes.
Laying down a sweaty beat
To harmonies we keep,
Making a memory settle in deep.
Digging out courage to dig up the bones,
To make love not alone
To make this heart a home.
Oh, what a delight when these hands are full of light,
And I see it every month when these memories bind.
When picking these stars up from under the door,
And it opens to show me an ethereal shore
Where lapping waves and sandy pages
Make life's unbreakable bonds.
These Fields are real and where I belong,
I'm five-hundred strong, and longing for more.

Friday, February 26, 2010

Architecture in Life

The poor boy is just a score
Foiled over a tinny memory,
A light under the table
Vying for something Clark Gable would pull;
Instead I pull in my chair and sit delightedly.
A memory hindsided me when I looked away,
When I looked around without the grounds
To say anything.
I just sit back, relax, and relish their talk,
And compare their lives' cycles
And the patterns they plot:
The segregated groups with gossip complete,
The drama, the heartbreak, a high school repeat.

Sizzlers at the End of the Week

I was shook by sun,
Awoken from a slumber numbered low,
A solid dream tearing at the seams
With ghosts of what I needed know.
Itchy with integrals stuck in my hair
With genotypes, phenotypes,
See, no one is there to make a capital letter,
A dominance like the prominent annual weather.
And whether or not it was what I was seeking,
The literacy narratives were certainly speaking
Incessantly, restlessly, needless to say,
Working non-stop for this unconscious day.
Disconnected body and brain
That the rain short circuited,
Hot-churning all day.
Ease is that thing that I've almost forgotten,
Open-palmed, soothing balm
And a brain stem unknotted...
It's easy to forget all but what we will have
And you don't even know how I want it so bad.
The freedom to breathe,
The freedom to sleep,
The freedom to keep on the beat,
The freedom to see onwards into my dreams,
The freedom to freely be me.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

A Slice of Advice from a Postal Local

"It's not all hookers and rock clubs and surfing!
You California hippie, don't "chill, bro, chill" me!"
It turns out, to churn out the most effective test,
Don't pregame, skip, and then postgame the rest.
We'll get over the humps when we're under the weather,
The results may vary, but we'll all go down together!

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Relay: 2 (Purple)

Everything is in slow motion
As the commotion dissolves into a muffled mist,
In which a soothing consumes
To put a kiss in your hand.
Arms spread, your wingspan,
With feet only lightly touching soft grass
That is flush in the presence of elegant spring.
The rush of the air makes your joyous lungs
Sing out! Bring out the the life
That the the clouds tried to hide!
When the world's upside down, your eyes paint the sky
And your hair lays down in silk roots and branches
And rivers expansive...I dare not take a second glance,
Staring at the sun for another chance
To take a gander at a dream,
To break apart the art received.
It's more than life's colors, in which these eyes are caught,
It's dancing with imagining and playing with the thought.

Monday, February 22, 2010

Today, One Year Ago

I made a correction in your name,
It was the best I could do
And it was only for you.
Your little precious in an untidy meter
Summed up by alt. rock
And my short stint in theater.
The heater was on, we both felt a bit cold.
Life's grind against dreams
Had chipped off the gold,
So I said settle for the silver lining.
You can reach for the skies
When you have the right timing.
And I left it for you to put it in line,
Right, left, right,
Baby steps, one at a time.
I erected a vessel to get you out
And it remains in your name,
Even up until now.
So when the constants aren't constant
And the problem is human,
Just grab hold of the wheel,
Because you know what you're doing.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

In Boston, Reppin' L.A.

A rush too much of what could go wrong,
I'm feeling skittish for these skits,
But I guess I couldn't quit now;
Just tell these brains to sit down.
So I sit down with a handful of glass bullets
I'm hit now with going through it,
Straight through the heart
And the measurement of time
I could not draw the line
Between finish and start.
Nostalgic, shameless
The stage, spotlight.
Ironic, painless
I'm whisked from the stars...
It was getting late and I was debreathed
For the Far East had found their way
On to the West Campus,
That stamps us the best house around,
I felt an accent coming on,
I felt my feet lose the ground.
Until 3.a.m., it was a Red Cup Social
Where we kicked it like fam,
Like we were supposed to.

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Know What You're Missing

I'll make myself a name with a catchy subtitle,
Because up on that shelf
Of the things that just couldn't be helped,
The hooks are overrated,
And the storyline pining has gotten outdated.
Yeah, they're better off kept as ornaments
Since at the moment,
I've got my own pen scribbling,
Nibbling at the mind candy called change
Once I've dusted trusted places
And have these faces all arranged.
I'm surprised these books have kept their spines;
They're colorful, dirty, tattered,
And mine.
Torn and worn in, still all unsorted,
Like the state I was in, but then left in '09.
The mountains bowed and the waves waved goodbye.
At least I could have sworn...
California, I should have warned her,
But I've worn winter jackets and seen eastern shore,
Though I was born in her arms in a t-shirt and shorts.
Nevermore, not to worry, I'll be back in a month
And for the better, without a sweater,
The old me will be gone.
Tummy, tummy, pocket, pocket,
I've found my precious friends, now lock it.
So don't you bring me down,
With your lead heart that I'm dismissing.
Not long from now, I'll be back home,
So that you know just what you're missing.

Friday, February 19, 2010

The Allstate Guy Has Great Hands

It is smell of cigarettes and failed ambition
That puts my condition into perspective.
There is no prescription receptive of
These waters, the hotter they get.
That pass down my throat
Leaving a coat of regret.
Who is the envious one
When you look at the person to your left,
Where getting what they want
Is getting what they get?
Why is the person to your right
Living their dream on only the inside,
But have somehow convinced themselves
That they will die alright
From the satisfying sight of a gratifying end?
What are you doing looking at your shoes
Though comfortably fit,
Uncomfortably you?
If you ever saw anything,
You'd saw off the memory,
You'd dissolve all your enemies
And call out with no cause.
Underline all their flaws
With an underlying scowl
For their pride in the style
Of living on the prowl.
Yes, these bothering waters are a natural light,
It's the scent that we rent for the descent of the night.

The Deep Red Gem That Purifies Light

I'm bringing shovels, but never bricks,
I'm drawing sticks instead of straws,
Breaking my jaw trying to break even
Without ever breaking bread.
But every day I'm getting closer
To breaking my head
On this concrete realism,
The field on which I am played;
The flagrant foul was that I stayed.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Silly-Invented Turned Misdirected

As I was told, this is when it starts,
The pink-slippered twirl, tender tearing apart.
Putting sheets over dusty bones come to rest
To be ruffled, hear the muffles of
The other life coming next.
She makes spirals in wrinkles,
Her ankles, the axis spins out of control.
Twisted revealed
Shortly after he healed,
The same crooked mirrors
Just a slightly difference face.
The same crooked stories
To run circles in a race
Where you erase the tracks you left before,
And the lactic acid, you ask for more.
Abhor the cycle, but stay in line
You're a ticking bomb, going off every time.
Because you were never really on it
And it was never really known,
So with that same dusty sheet
You gather up your bones.
It's condescension up a hill
And renown around the bend,
With abstract thoughts in concrete boxes
And the foxes smoked out of the den.
You've got to blur the details
To clearly see the circle's end:
So long to the best one,
It's on to the next one
To happen all over again.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Recursive Mechanics

Calm your steps, pace your breath-
I c-an't, I ca-n't, I can-'t, I c-an't.
Give me space, but I need air
So that your kryptonite kite
Can take flight with my breath,
Wishing you the best
While cursing under my breath.
Pulled back into orbit,
Fooled me, you did!
Playing to weaknesses,
Snapping to grid.
So, quantizing hope in the direction of sun,
I am counting these squares in reverse,
Back to one.

Are You a Friend of Pavlov's?

It's all a performance,
Steady your chest.
Your ribs are shaking out of tune
Pattering lungs, you're turning blue,
Itching with twisting of adopted mannerisms,
I scratch at them like fleas.
I plead that you won't kill me
With my own name, please.
Nonetheless, I asses the losses:
Shitty paint with shiny gloss,
And hardly enough time to let the coat dry.
It's a reservoir played pretend,
At least by then, who would choose this?
She said, "You must be a friend,
And you can, call me clueless!"

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Baby Face

Remember that dream you had
When this time, for once, you weren’t so mad,
Where you met her again
To make the same mistakes again?
Let’s be vague together
As we share this stage together,
Since it’s so hard to silence the beast
And despite these cracking guns,
We are so far from peace.
The iron of your barrel,
My bayonet's teeth,
The irony in your idol that would soon set you free,
That would not let me be,
That pulled us apart when we were just getting there,
Because we are too old to dream and too young to care.

In the Theme of Belligerence

I wish I could rhyme
As if I were drawing nines,
But I'm sawing off any recollection
Of the collection of thoughts for memory.
And this lying wouldn't mean anything
As I let them lay down the beat
Before the blackened crystal sea,
And rather meet them festive after.
Let the smiles mix with the laughter,
The pool room and the chapter,
A good friend and the older ones,
More fun with less disaster!

Friday, February 12, 2010


Take this one in slowly...
Now let it out the same.
The LCD is tame,
You remember your own name!
Now stop, close your eyes;
See the color on the inside.
Greater than the orange
The red,
The pink,
The veins that drain.
Your heart, once a sink
In which the love poured.
Looking back or looking forward
Frankly, I don't know
The sun is setting
The sun is rising,
My mind's horizon glows.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

An Independent, Crooked Smile

Without demand, an explanation
And soft vibrations throughout your hand.
You don't need to read your laces
With nervous spaces in shaky shouts.
You can leave your compensation
The sensation will come about eventually.
So wandering words can come to rest,
You can brush them off your heavy chest.
Words more sensitive than the dust in your eyes;
Breathe, my friend, there's one more in your life.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Dreamscape '08

In the traffic-lit 2 a.m.
A good winter in heart with the other in hand
Denotes tenacity, audacity from many moments past,
Scotch tape intoxicated, feeling intact.
The taste of the waste blinds with echoing walls,
I trace with this touch the crossfades on your palm,
The scent of my thoughts draws from two years back,
And thus, tea tree leaves preserve footsteps in sand.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Anticipation, Here I Come!

Drawing conclusions with thoughts full of lead,
Heavy thoughts in my head,
Creates the hazardous dread of falling down hard
So they are carefully decorated with my guard.
An ode too early to earlier on,
A friendly unforgiven, just given the arms.
The harm in this armistice
Is betting an incomplete table setting,
Washington, lost in a gray bedding.
Tentative bets set in summer's June,
Because you cannot see a brand new moon.

Monday, February 8, 2010

Social Lubricant

I had been digging my own grave,
Adjusting my bow tie,
Telling myself I'd been brave,
But a spark was enough
So I stood up.
A thousand emails cleared and a shaved beard,
Some sort of inherent power.
I'll shower myself with delusions for a while
Top-shelf-picking in an endless, nameless aisle.
Sticky situations won't make joints looser,
But a goop, goop, goober,
Something really super
Will sooner amount to something more
Than a poem and a picture door.

Sunday, February 7, 2010


Retracing days,
Facing forward
In a backwards train.
The slush of steel wheels on track
Addressed with your name,
Pushing air through pursed lips
Rushing life with nothing to grip.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Poor Satellite Talk

Gentle streaks of orange
On indigo lavender,
I circle the date as I sit on my calendar
Trying to make sure
Despite a design made by nature
That these days won't float away.
The process is cold,
But it won't snow today.
Let's peel off these sheets like bandages
And try to find the advantages
Of getting out of bed,
Full of bed bugs, hugs,
And retrospect lead.
Who knows how I will deal,
But it's time I've fully healed.

Friday, February 5, 2010

Little All-Stars

I am listening to
I am listening too
The silent hum of golden lights
Looking backwards,
Sleeping alright
All tight in a bundle
Fighting the cold with an undersized throw.
Huddled, I muddle some words I don't know,
Trying not to show the softest spots
That I could never get rid of.
Black and red with a cigar
A younger dead when you're born
From the stars.
In darkness, discussing life's value in motion,
Taking the absolute value of emotion.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

A Sense of Propriety

The magic triangle in the bottom left corner,
Structurally sound as it stands,
It grants you entrance to an escape.
Intoxicated peace,
Cards, cups and pockets
Electricity without sockets.
Los Angeles is an ocean of soft fire
And I lightly pinch the spark
That dances on this one wire.
A single tingle ascends my arm
A little more startle,
A little less harm,
A little less charm,
That now dangles from your phone.
Smoke dances on the drapes
Names are thrown,
Some stick like tape.
Others slip like ice
And swirl back like the deepest eyes
Dressed up or buttoned down,
This is a joyous, boisterous sound.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

The Components of Us

And this phrase overused
Fades into a spacious blue,
Sky-cracking harmonies
Outdated words fall harmlessly,
Bouncing off strings with a dinky little ring.
Oh God, I'm singing so loud with a smile on my face!
Filled with warm shaking, things I can't replace.
The direct object has been subjected to this:
It's time to close this chapter, kid.


It's funny how things are always different once you get there,
Different in how you felt or,
Different in what you expected.
You ask yourself, "Who's protected?"
But some things must go
A sudden jump into sullen waters,
A wooden thought knocked
Before fading into fodder.
Good luck, you masochistic hopeless romantic,
It's time to do the maths and the sciences,
Don't panic!

Monday, February 1, 2010

Saigon Guido Cash

The smoke of cigars sets on your tux.
The sucks and blows in an elegant drag
Form the tag line for "class" and we are enough.
We are the trust in the bonds that we make
We are too much with wine glasses that break,
Raspy voices, hasty choices,
We're all out of tune,
And we won't be leaving too soon.
Swooned for like a sex fiend
Swaying, sipping like a sailor,
Savor this fraternal love,
A gentleman's true gentleman's club.


A sign perched against the dawn-graced window:
Dead end, fall asleep...this is all pretend.
Bend the wire, press repeat with pistons on fire.
My body is weak from holding my own
You've stood stubborn ground
Meanwhile, I have grown.
Forgotten like shots, forgiven if not,
Kindly, no room for many other thoughts.