Thanks

The dining room table is cluttered
with too many things
that shouldn't be there but are.
I sit between my Mother
and Father
as we eat a meal
traditional in the small
rural Mexican town
that they are from,
the same town I spent
three weeks in
earlier this year
in the hopes of finding
answers to questions
I didn't know I had.
We didn't need to give praise
to God, or country
as we sat there.
We ate together
while they commented
on a tv show on some Spanish
language channel
about the cuisine of
the different Mexican states.
My Mom said
she'd love to visit Guerrero
but my Father said
things are bad there because
of all the cartel violence.
She agreed.
My baby brother played
in the background,
he ate something earlier
because he hasn't
developed a taste
for this food.
We ate our meal in peace.
I told my Dad we should go
down to the beach
where I work
so I could show them
where it is I spend most
of my week.
I suggested this
mainly because I know
that the time I suggested
will be around sunset.
The sun will be beautiful
as it dyes the sky
colors that seem unbelievable
but are. The waves
will be steady
and there will be a chill.
I want to be there
with them
to take a moment in
and remember
that despite change
and hardship
we've remained a family
all along.

Hunger

Satisfy the hunger of

this love

or it will starve.

For George

The world can only function

because of people like George

Tonight

he is sitting on a barstool

drunk out of his mind

He's been drinking for

five hours

to get away

from his work

on AC and Heating

His hands are thick

strips of meat

wrapped around bone

He says he's been a

fry cook

plumber

barback

gardener

driver

welder

and still

he struggles

to get by

I offer to buy him

a drink

but

he declines

He's had run-ins

with cops

and car accidents

He's a bit spooked

but needs

this relief

this numbing

to wake

and keep going

keep moving

to survive

in a world

indifferent

at best

Luna Sea

All heart, no brains.

observation

What can a ghost 
say to another

that is not already known?

We see other through 
the glass

and move closer.

A Collection of Scraps

note: each line or stanza separated by white space is an individual idea from the rest. these are just a small collection of recently tossed off lines and ideas gathered together in no particular order.

staying in love
away from the eyes of the world.

through the window
the waves wash the shore clean

walking through the wilderness
of the heart

new cartography of the inner landscape

I am chasing the ideal self I wish to be.

My boredom is contagious.

Stuck in a run-out groove,
locked, so I keep going round,
can't reach for the arm.

Good times, hard times,
all these times together
I prefer to being apart.
Good times, hard times,
sitting without you
out by the ocean,
waves blend into
the sound of passing cars.
Spilling out, I can't hold
the tide surging in me.

All these wasted
useless days
pile up behind me
reminders of a life
before you.

You begin to love
the fire
charring you
from the inside.

How quickly one life can become another.

Hunted by the shadows of our ghosts

what does it mean

to arrive home close to midnight

and discover

a white rabbit

resting comfortably

on the grass

nibbling from time to time

as if hunger

were an afterthought

what will become of these words

tossed off

onto the page

as if they were drops of paint

dripping from the brush

and onto the floor?

I can hear the loneliness

in her voice

her right hand strums

chords

as if she were wiping

dust from a table

I have to believe

that not all people are

short-sighted and callow

  

Why bother with anything if everything

is heading to collapse?

 The fear builds

and I hope

that things are fine

that you

are merely asleep

The wrath of God is no threat

if you do not believe.

The Conflict

I went to my church
to confess to the priest

all of my sins
all of wrongs

seeking absolution
seeking resolution

to the burning parts
of my soul

Hail Mary
Our Father

Rosary in my hands
beads touching fingertips

Forgive me for my sins
Forgive all of my wrongs

I confess
I confess

Make me pure
Make me whole

again

I confess
I have sinned

against you, Lord
Make me whole

For the love of Honey

Honey Bee,
moving through your days,

there are bears
willing to be stung

endlessly
for a taste of 

the sweetness
you create

It is unwise to devalue
that which another
holds dear.

A fragment on love

Our love is human
because it must.
It lives in imperfect
conditions
and is the result
of imperfect people.
It seeks to merely
be allowed to be,
to have the chance
to grow in sunlight
and not in the crawl
space of the house
next to umbrella
shaped fungi.

Other Shores

some people get lost in the tides
of their own shores
that they neglect other beaches

Happiness & Judgment

Being judgmental of the happiness of others
reveals a greater truth about us then of those
being judged.

my heart is the center of it's own world.

The dead have no use for wealth.

open

let the words leave

your lips

as if

they were ghosts

Re: Tragedy

Tragedy is the belief that 
the present can last forever.

the dust from which i come

Fragile Tranquility

paralysis

Paralyzed
                by choice


even thoughts slow

in coming


Hands unsure of themselves

touch each other

                           seeking

                                         a way to grow

                       steady in their countenance


inhaled breath held
until it could no longer be so

in
     and
out


why the wait

why

the prolonged agony

of indecision

                     squeezing

like hands

exerting all their force

Quote Me On This

Modern conveniences lead to many annoyances.

ants

there is no mercy
for the ant
when we feel
it's tiny feet
across our skin

we mete out
punishment swiftly
decisively

flicked off
or crushed by
fingers

we act as though
we were god
and not kin

to such a lowly
creature

Waiting

He couldn't bring himself to go in with her,
so, he waited in the car.
His left arm hung over the side of the door,
it was more tan than his right.
Usually he would have some music playing
but today he listened to the cars passing by.
The sun shone down
as it hung pinned to the blue sky.
He was nervous but not as nervous
as she. His hands oozed
a cold sweat. She told him
it was fine if he waited in the car.
He saw the door open
but it was not her.
How long was this going to take,
he wondered to himself.
He needed to see her.
He wanted to hold her
and not let go.
The wide open spaces of the parking lot
sat between them,
her inside there,
him inside the car.
At that moment
they both wondered
how things
were going to
be different.

feeding

I let go

of the weight

of unnecessary things


and feel the strength

in my body


as I wake

in the morning


Sunlight touches me

I kiss her


on the lips

and feed upon


the light

bursting through me

I am King of my own bad decisions. 

Between Midnight and Closing

Meagan is not Tim

That is apparent from the outset

I tell her about

all the late Sunday nights

spent on a barstool

deep in the decaying guts

of downtown Los Angeles

I tell her

how I got to know Tim

bit by bit

each late Sunday

in those hours between

midnight and closing

Those hours when

everything happens

when nothing happens

She is young

and slings her drinks

with the confidence

of a professional

I rise from the stool

and when she asks if

I would like another

I answer in the negative

That I merely wished to say

goodnight

We say goodbye

and goodnight

and wait for another Sunday night

to say hello