Poems & Short Stories

Pumpkin pie from Los Feliz

Crickets off the porch

Silent strokes we paint

In our minds

In our hearts

Brothers in Mourning

Brothers in the Night

Cruel World

Tough Luck

Weed smoke hit right

Stories of an artist life.

A flower blooms in Long Beach

She sits pretty, awaiting her plucking

Speedy roads, black and mild

Close to the city but far far away

He sits alone, waiting for a sign

She says hello

She’s ready for the ride

The flower blooms

The Sun pierces through the Gray

Rainy days no more, be gone, go away

Walks in the night in Suginami

Cigarette in hand after the rain

Streets empty.

Vending machines galore.

I looked at you and I was happy

You had a presence that was neat

We smoked quietly in peace

And life never felt more at ease

In Suginami

Tropic summer nights batting away mosquitoes.

Silent bike rides weaving through your streets.

Dim lanterns in the shadows.

Red wine clanking in our bags.

I loved you.

Nights In Suginami.

America is a strange land.

It asks for everything and gives back accordingly, or so we were told.

America is a strange land.

It promises us hope in the midst of despair, but America carries immense secrets.

An ominous and beautiful cloud is this America, roaming and roving its presence throughout. For what is light without darkness, what is beauty without the mundane.

America is us. And we are America.

A mirror.

A gaze.

This strange land of ours.

The walls shook, music echoed the floor

Boys holding hands with boys openly

Beautiful faces, sculpted torso, toned arms

They leaned on each other, holding hands walking down the corridor

I looked at them in envy

I wanted to have what they had

I missed the feeling of being with a partner exploring new worlds in conspiracy

The music pulsed deeply, I lit a cigarette and slowly took in a drag

The room was dark and there was an air of danger

A quiet storm brewed

Feelings of comfort and a flint of joy swam inside

To be alone in a den of lovers, free and open shrouded by the night, the shadows, the dark spells

This was exactly where I needed to be.

She appeared again last night in my dream

She stood there in the doorway wearing a red slip

A man stood behind her

I leaned in and gave her a kiss and barked at the man to leave

She walked into my room

We embraced

I had many questions but she wouldn’t answer

She began to raise her voice and wouldn’t quiet down

Just seeing her alone gave me a rush

I missed her dearly

I missed her voice

I missed her eyes

I missed her lips

I missed her spirit

I awoke abruptly alone in my bed

I stared at my ceiling and exhaled.

I left my heart in Tokyo.

It sits alone in a room occupied by the other.

She pays no mind, she comes and goes.

Alone it sits, quiet as a mouse.

It wishes it could be free.

It throbs but makes no noise.

She pays no mind, she comes and goes.

I left my heart in Tokyo.

It’s in a room, sitting above the shelf.

I miss my heart.

I miss you.

I miss me.

Each night we die

What we were that day is no longer

What ideas and notions we possessed have already passed

Actions speak louder than words

Silence resounds even deeper

It’s a funny thing, this idea that life goes on.

We inhale, we exhale.

We worry, we laugh.

I always say, it’s important to pinch out, look at things from above.

Be wary of all factors, of all patterns, of all signs.

Forgive and Forget

Move Forward

And most importantly

Love Yourself

You cannot save others if you do not value your own life

So cherish it

Celebrate it

Live it

Be The Constant.

I preached for fifteen years.

From door to door, God’s Kingdom was nigh and the end was near.

I wore a suit, memorized my lines, my bible quotes locked and ready.

I was a machine, I awoke in the wee hours of the morning til the sunset, my white collar stained, yellowed from sweat.

Magazine in hand, I was always on, never off. Every hour of preaching, every conversation shared, all was logged on a monthly basis.

This was me from age 5 to 20.

This explains why I am still untangling my identity.

When I broke free, I worked in the fields of fashion, art, and tech, I applied the same discipline, the same rinse and repeat because I knew no other way.

Eventually everything falls apart.

Today, I do the same with my physical regimen at the gym, the mountain hikes, the lap swims.

I’m still on the hunt. I’m searching to puncture through the ether.

I believe in happiness, I believe in humanity, I believe in love.

The end isn’t nigh.

God’s Kingdom is here, it’s been here all along.

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#STORIES

#STORY

#CHILDHOOD

#KINGDOM

#PREACHER

#GOD

There’s quite a few things I’d like to say

When I think of you I smile

You were something else

You shone your light the night I met you

Your presence was bold and buoyant

We tore in through the night

Speeding through highways and hidden tunnels

You spoke with a certainty of a woman who’s traveled afar

To lands of mystery and intrigue

You lived many lives and had many adventures

You brought me up so high, so high I knew that one day were I to fall

I would hurl down down down

And yet when I think of you

I see you in your room, humming to a song

You were otherworldly

Of the Forbidden

The Phantasma

.

#STORIES

#STORY

#POEM

#POETRY

#LOVE