Link 1 Jul Photo Album - Imgur»
Text 28 May Metafore

Your hair is the envy of blossoming trees, 

whose former lover you stole, was the spring breeze.

Your eyes are the pearls of city lights,

reflected off the mirrors of wet boulevards .

Your smile greets a sleepy world,

more warmly than the rising sun.

But none of these does justice to you,

just as a metaphor captures truth

Text 28 May The work we do.

“Playing politics”

Such a curious way to describe a politician’s trade

Whose policies we are forced to play in their charlatan’s game


“A practice”

Such a curious way to describe a doctor’s trade

Makes you wonder what they did in their medical school days


“A work”

            Such a curious way to describe an artist’s trade

            Dragging through meaningless jobs, unwilling to let a dream fade

Text 28 May Train Stations

In the great greeting hall of

The Sacramento train station

Scattered islands of people wait,

Their souls faded just

As the grand mural overhead.


Gone, like the last train

The days of these veins of life

Who’s steel wake

Echoes in half memories

And romantic imaginings of lonely travelers


Today a mother with child sits in despair

Realizing she’s short on fare

While another

Tells her daughter to say goodbye to nana

Not knowing when they will come back again


A beautiful woman, with autumn hair, sits guarded by herself

Deflect unwanted stares

My future in my bags, off to a menial job in the hopes of something grand.

These scattered islands of people wait

To be brought elsewhere.

Text 25 Apr Lines

Every rugger

Is bipolar.

Caring and gracious lads



                        That chalked line


They are nothing but


Bullying and bludgeoning

Those unfit for the game.



That chalked line


Consummate gentlemen

Offering a toast

To those who survive.

Text 25 Apr Game Time

Ever feel those butterflies

Tying knots in your insides,

To a point of a python’s embrace.

But these nymphs inside

Incomplete at this time.




Wait for the right moment.

Till you can’t handle the visceral pain.

Pray that you are one of the lucky few,

A fiery cocoon.

Turning those butterflies

Into dragons

Text 25 Apr Flea Markets

In flea markets

Every man has midas hands

But hidden away

In rich rubble,

A faded picture


A bright, hopeful young man

With diploma in hand


            To Uncle Earl,

            Thank you for coming.  Here is a picture for you to remember the day by.

Text 9 Apr Life Lectures

As I sat there,

In those rigid lecture chairs

The ones that keep you awake.

The only comfort,

Is your head.

On my shoulder.

Your silken obsidian hair,

Draping my body, warmer than fleece


More attractive than those bonds,

The professor speaks of.

Your sweet scent soothes, then


Of smelling salts.

It couldn’t have been you

As long as I have known you

I’ve never been a recipient of your hug,

Or even your slightest side kiss.

Text 9 Apr Naughty Thoughts





Text 9 Apr Poetic Tectonics

A being pushed down


Under broken halleluiahs



A soul shifted


In a graphite wake.

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