blindfold bravery

your never ending web of nerve endings
spark, ignite, all-or-nothing

the chase of the thrill
the shiny red pill
a face replacing another face
moving through mirages of preemptive nostalgia
always meditating on the future as a fixed point
when it remains elusive as the concept of perfection
what about electability?
or freedom of choice?
the act of reaching out
and communication
is fear
blindfold bravery

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you can discover this new playing field
and escape this tedium
you ain’t no medium
blood’s in the water
and the sharks don’t bother
they crave attention
but receive no mention
stick apples in their mouths
and roast this rotisserie
in this misery
the flames lick up
as the rest sucked up
you’re nothing but a hound dog
never catching a rabbit
keep on running to the sun
and it kept on setting
and subsequently begetting


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shovel struck paydirt
but the success was curt
all that applause fading away
each penny taken each day
those words were corrisive
slow-burn explosive
that silent treatment
became ever frequent
I’d be your sacrifical lamb
be silent as a clam
be the last pin to fall
before the crows nest can call
all hands on deck
you’ll be ship-wrecked
the aristocrats finished the waltz
become ocean decorations by default

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don’t inspire
don’t require
don’t speak
or weep
snowballing whirlwind
be God sent
rewired and tired
tethered to expired
monetize personal lives
cripple me
hamper me
enable me
wake me
take this rock heart
knead it repeatedly
cleaved from the passions
at each drop
and rise
I see
with the rising bubbles
a little more

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dip a toe on the surface
let it carve ripples
spirit hovering over the waters
dividing darkness and light
how far-gone we went
all our reincarnated lives unspent
a shopping cart wheel left bent
heavily recalcitrant to window shopping
and the temporal tweeting birds
how we trap you in an urn
and we lift the lid for your ashes
to join with the Ganges river
i hope to see your freed smirk
catch the light of your eyes
in the last gleam of ten thousand sunsets
reflecting off the waters

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dive into the underworld
and feed the fishes eating off our feet
recoil at atrocities
find some anomaly
that center of gravity
inhale, exhale
the world underneath a blanket of sun
come inching out on all fours on the parched desert landscape
the sun rounding out rising, falling
stars eternally wheeling in a panorama
this seed sprouts
roots dig and siphon water into mouths
it grows taller
and wilts
back into your echo chamber
with your unlocked chests
of all your possessions
bend the will and the mind
follow my body
into serenity


Love Thy Neighbour

There once was a family living in a town happily. Within a few months the war began. A bomb dropped on their home instantly killing the husband and making the home uninhabitable. Their garden where figs and olives once grew became a graveyard of ashes where they buried their dead friends and neighbors. They lost most of their belongings, except a few photo albums and suitcases of clothing which they were able to grab. With no water, electricity, or transportation, they became, thirsty, hungry, scared. Some even had burns and injuries. The mother and the grandfather worried for their own predicament and for the children’s future, because they had no place to stay. They set up tents camping on the side of the desert road outside of the town because no one wanted to take them.

A wealthy neighbor who owned an oil refinery happened to be driving down the same road; he saw the family emerging from their white makeshift tent crying for help. Seeing their distress, he became scared, and passed on the other side of the road. A white northerner happened to be driving on the same road, but when he saw the huge family, he floored the gas pedal leaving them covered in dust. A cowboy driving in his yellow SUV slowed down to rubberneck, but when he heard them speak in a weird language, and saw the woman with a head-covering, he made a U turn, fleeing in the opposite direction. He even promised that he would avoid this part of town.

But a man driving down the road saw the family, and he had compassion on them. He wasn’t wealthy, he didn’t speak the same language, but he introduced himself to the frightened family. He broke the ice with a few card magic tricks. The children laughed and clapped, they hadn’t seen a friendly face for months. He took them into his vehicle with their meager belongings, and drove them to his home, where they met his family. The grandfather had to go to the hospital because of his broken foot, but after they gave him a splint and crutches, he felt much better. At home they together prepared a meal, sharing their foreign foods, and ate together happily. The family even gave them clothing from a few years ago, but they didn’t seem to mind. The children were able to attend the local elementary school, and the mother started learning the local language and even find a full-time job. Soon the two families grew to know one another and became lifelong friends. Yet, the family missed their father, and mourned the loss of their homeland, but they were glad to meet one another in a world that had gone mad.

Go and do likewise

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Lightbulb, Wagon.

a lightbulb lit
burned dimly from the shed ceiling
flickering and littering glimmer
barely penetrating through a crowd of gloom
how the static obfuscated our surroundings
these foibles knit us
but sometimes they betray us

just a lone wagon
with a crooked wheel
rolling on the freeway
up and down a roller coaster
hope to find the way
back to  her owner

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you counterfeit drug

you sly mangy dog

stole away my spirit

and left this empty shell casing

I’d be tearing apart
the corpus callosum

until the tremor comes

off the richter scale

quake your knees

don’t be a tease

until the men in the white coats

come for you

and put a muzzle

and a mirror

you were dreamin’ inside a dream

on top of the cream

you were the emperor

who has no clothes

but your monarchy

is a snake swallowing

its own tail

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A love

I love you
to leave you
to crush you
to create you
i find solidarity
in our silence
we sit back to back
never seeing one another
folding in to find a breath
a depth
of hope
dig cicerns
for whomever it may concern
to catch fresh water
and rose petals
but a gun’s in a glove compartment
draw it out to size up
but it will not bring any more comfort
the measure of a man is not in his gun
but in laying down his arms and
our fellow men

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