africansunshine.

2012-02-13T14:22:00.003-06:00

the most difficult challenge: fighting God.

2012-01-22T00:18:00.001-06:00

hummingbird ,

nag champa.

2012-01-21T23:12:00.000-06:00

you want to know what makes her smile,

staring into the sunlight.

"can you feel the music?"

shot by kori.

passion flowers.

2012-01-21T22:48:00.002-06:00

what happened to the ...

two hundred-eighty one.

2012-01-11T22:20:00.001-06:00

wilderness in the day.

and he no longer
sleeps at night, no.

he no longer
dreams at night.

he lays awake and
awaits the sun to take
its place -

because the night steals
away the time he feels
is his,

he feels close
to the end.

so far to go.

2012-01-05T00:28:00.005-06:00

she learned today

another one

passed

away.

gun shots won't spare you.

gun shots won't prepare you.

gun shots will wear you.

gun shots will tear you.

at 12:23 a.m.

2012-01-05T00:21:00.000-06:00

certainly,

two hundred-eighty.

2012-01-05T00:16:00.001-06:00

trail of unrequited love.

he'll leave a trail of breadcrumbs

for you to follow, to find him.

but as he does that,

he knows he won't be ready

to meet you at the end.

so he back tracks and begins

to follow his own trail,

that leads right back

to him.

two hundred-seventy nine.

2012-01-05T00:08:00.000-06:00

automated voice messaging system.

and if she answers the phone again,
i swear i'll ... i'll ... i'll swallow every
ounce of fear that has buried the truth
that i've been dying to leave with you,

as she informs me of where she has taken me,
i'll be sure to drop it off in the sweetest most
innocent voice known to her box -
and i'll ... i'll stop. i'll learn to stop.

two hundred-seventy eight.

2012-01-04T03:01:00.001-06:00

off the record (tracks).

train wreck
brain dead
heart bled
breathless.

two hundred-seventy seven.

2012-01-02T20:59:00.002-06:00

square one, lost memory.

she wore lipstick the color
of Hester's "A" and pumps
the height of a giraffe and
skirts that fit her like a suction cup
with hair as full as a willow tree.

she staggered through the
crowded streets collapsing
into arms of every bystander
that met her path and a piece
of her was left in the arms of
multiple strangers -

her eyes dripped of the champagne
she guzzled down while smokey, black
streams ran down her cheeks, mixing in
with the tears of the new year -

"cheers!!! happy new year!!!" the crowd exclaimed.

as she continued walking down
a lane that had no ending, she
searched for the end of the road
to begin what she felt she lost,
she wanted to start new - but
the night kept her clumsy and
her vision remained fuzzy.

her new year reminded her of many before.
it reminded her that when she woke up the
next morning, she wouldn't remember what
happened after 4.

two hundred-seventy six.

2012-01-02T20:46:00.000-06:00

monday evening.

how is it possible

that the end carries the

same feeling as the beginning?

two hundred-seventy five.

2012-01-01T23:41:00.002-06:00

validation.

better resign before
you lose, forfeit before
they gain, get going
before they move in.

it's lovelier out there anyway,
i promise - the sky will sink
lower and swallow you whole
the day you decide to completely

let go.

those days.

2011-12-31T20:07:00.001-06:00

all the flowers have reached this point of full bloom. and time has truly shown the definition of their age. but still, they try to hide it. they try to fight what's already obvious. because they want to leave it up to everyone's imagination to believe and assume what they want, if they are slowly dying or if they are merely defying the changes of time passing them by. but they want to stay in full bloom. they want to live there forever because it's the climax of their life. it's when they can actually see and feel the beauty and radiance of the magnificent sun. they are opened and vulnerable to the use of the bees for pollen and to the humans for fragrance. they are able to be utilized and to serve the environment.

then, when time decides to kick in, they try to fight it. they try to hide it but they can't. they simply can't. because time doesn't wait for anyone or anything. and once your time is up, your time is up. what is your life? it is but a mist that is present for a measurable time but will soon vanish into nothing. and that's the hard reality we must face. we must deal with. we must take in. and even when our most cherished flower disappears without being able to say "goodbye" ... we must swallow it like a pure glass of water and accept the truth about things coming, and things going.

i grieve.

i moan.

i weep.

i mourn.

not only for you, beautiful flower. but for so many like you. and i trust that others will make it through. my throat is thick of remorse and sorrow but i find your petals to be lovely. even while dehydrated, my eyes will hydrate you with its secretion. love will live forever through my tears to you and your exhausted petals. i think of you always. i love you, deeply. i do. and i miss you. this time is the worst time. i wish we could just go back to those days.

changes.

2011-12-29T11:55:00.000-06:00

there were many days this break that were filled with the gloom and itchiness of no sun. the rain wouldn't fully come down, it would only drizzle or sprinkle mist against everything that couldn't dodge its landing. christmas day was sweet. only, it felt like st. patrick's day. or like an average monday. and i guess the ephemeral joy for christmas left years ago when i grew out of believing that santa would finally visit our house since we got a chimney, like the families in the movies. he never came. these past few days have been quite interesting.

the sun has finally stopped being shy. it has finally stepped out and onto its platform of stardom. it's incredible, waking up into a new day, not having the slightest idea about what might take place. who you might see. who you will talk to. what the conversation will revolve around. what feelings you might encounter. you never know what emotions will consume you. how you will react. what you will think. what steps you might take, might miss. it's a new day, literally. and the unknown can either be embraced or feared. and when the unknown becomes known, it can either turn into a travesty or a creative story worth scribing in a special journal.

it's strange, how humans change. with each day passing. there is always something changing. maybe your fingernail might grow a centimeter. wisdom tooth might come in. you might shed a strand of hair. you might feel one emotion, one second and it be transformed into another emotion the next second. changes are inevitable. we can't avoid change. as much as we may try. it will still be standing there, waiting to take us into its grip. and then, the point of surrender makes its way into your body, and you submit, and you work with what's new.

i think about the dragonfly story. its experience with change. once a water bug, who grew tired of its current state and rested on a lily pad underwater, and its next time waking up, it flew out of the water with a new slender body and fragile, beautifully colored wings that carried it away from its old place of living. and when it flew away, it never flew back into the water. that stage of its life was gone. yet, it treaded the waters, danced above the waters, but never re-entered. that is life. for humans. change is inevitable. change moves in a way that leads us further and further away from what was - keeps us away from what was. but it makes sure that we remember. we never re-live, we just remember. maybe change isn't so bad in that aspect.

don't grow too comfortable in the now - it won't be with you for too long. grow and appreciate the growth. life is happening, it is. and we are just creatures moving along and fitting into the changes that occur. do not be afraid. go.

pray
respect
submit
be at ease
be joyful
love
spend time
release
be creative
create newness
escape laziness
accept change.

2011-12-09T13:57:00.001-06:00

how does one escape being boxed in?

two hundred-seventy four.

2011-12-06T01:06:00.001-06:00

stripes and pastels.

my eyes could feel
the amount of love he carried for her
simply by the way
he carried her palms, inside of his own.

ifunanya.

2011-11-24T00:25:00.001-06:00

never thought it would be , me.

matthew 6:25-34.

2011-11-23T23:36:00.001-06:00

and as long as i am not there while i am here, i don't want to have to worry anymore. right here carries enough troubles of its own. let's cruise. let's release our feet from the pedal and chill. in cruise. please. my back's too heavy to add more weight. pack light for this ride. red - stop, rest and quit thinking of what's up next. yellow - yield, be careful with doubt, what you think and be slow with the words you think are ok to release. green - go without taking control, it's not yours, not ours. all love on this road of discovery. you won't ever have to worry again ... you won't. get closer. He wants to settle you.

plus one.

2011-11-23T23:24:00.001-06:00

today is my brother's birthday. this photo was taken over a year ago. we've grown so much closer ... through all the thorns a bush can contain, he and i have stuck it out. i'm thankful to have him another full year. life, we take it for granted. family, we don't treasure them as much as we should. more love. move in love. love one another. thank You for adding one to his life, i pray for the next days, weeks, months and years to come, in Your grace. happy birthday, brother!

2011-11-15T17:41:00.001-06:00

when seasons draw memories ,

two hundred-seventy three.

2011-11-14T13:40:00.001-06:00

light traveling.

even in the
thickness of
the night,

whatever is
hidden, in due
time, it will find
its way
to the light

two hundred-seventy two.

2011-11-14T06:08:00.001-06:00

what is divorce to Jesus?

like love never existed,
they insisted to break ties
to make ties to other things
treating one another less than
human beings -

what is divorce to Jesus?

like patience rejecting salvation
and long suffering submitting to temptation
like kindness giving birth to envy and
gentleness waking up to have intercourse with resentment.

what is divorce to Jesus?

like two hands holding their own hands in
holy matrimony and spending their honeymoon
alone - with their insides caving into the brokenness
they never dealt with outside of their selfish marriage.

like the fruit of the Spirit being a lie and
in vain, Jesus Christ took up His cross to die.

now, what is divorce to Jesus?

it doesn't exist - it isn't realistic.

i kick, i spit, i slap and i hit my Spouse,
who turns to me in gentleness and wakes me up
out of my brokenness with a sweet kiss - that
changed my heart and made me new -

divorce, it doesn't exist.
there is not exit once you enter marriage.

the Cross, my ring.
the Man with the thorned crown, my Groom.

through it all, He stuck it out
even when He got stuck into, by nails
that made Him near miserable.

and you, you are a beautiful couple -
i believe you can do it too.

please, don'e give up on Love.
He didn't give up, on you.

when sleep evades the dreamer.

2011-11-14T04:40:00.001-06:00

stolen moments, and nights -

i'm awake, i have awoken the night.

morning has arrived, the moon still reflects the sun.

waiting for the hour of the day to set in so i can be of use.

as for now, i lay. awake.

singing songs.

to myself.

2011-11-13T23:00:00.001-06:00

let's dance!

two hundred-seventy one.

2011-11-04T14:38:00.001-05:00

sunlight.

no more, dimly lit walkways - no more sad, somber, sorrowful cries.

instead, don't you think you (deserve) a peek of the sunlight?

to light up your world and to dance with the feverish symptoms of

regret, failed attempts, sexual impurity and everything else that weighs you down.

the Son's light shines through it all - because He took it all.

stand in the sunlight, weightless and bold, you brave bird.

embrace the moments that have changed you for good and

be thankful for all the good in your life -

stop harping on what you've lost and on what you have screwed up.

this life, it is worth living in the sunlight.

lion tales.

2011-10-31T13:55:00.002-05:00

two hundred-seventy.

2011-10-31T13:45:00.002-05:00

shattered glass - pay attention.

2011-10-27T13:34:00.003-05:00

what's left of the shattered glass that spikes the delicate feet of a mischievous sneak? to be cautious is to be calm. to meet them there is to prioritize. to wake up is to reach out. to find purpose is to grow wise. without looking each individual in their eyes, that's crazy - i watch, i think, while they blink, i listen, i keep. and we all know you can talk for a straight hour but we're interested and we're dying to know - how long can you actually listen? the talker is a seldom listener. and i want to listen. talking tires time taken to them - let's sit in silence even, let's both listen. let's trust. let's build. let's soak. let's saturate. let's think. think. think. let's learn. let's maximize. let's be, different. like a plain of flowers in the desert with no water to sip. let's be unrealistic. for a second. let's do it because we can - defy gravity because we can. be kind and be quiet. what's left of a shattered glass that once was whole but is now looking at itself as many, as separate. as different than its original state. don't make sense of it because you can't make sense of it. just follow the trail and think quietly because i hear your frustration crying out to me. to the world. we're used to seeing you sit more silently. be reserved again. quiet your train of thought down those tracks that you don't want to travel again. don't let them read you like an advertisement because they'll sell you. don't believe me. don't believe them. don't believe anything that isn't from Him. let love settle you. let Love settle you.

breathe!
smile more, be easy.
listen, listen to all.
slowly respond.
write more, create more, less work.
make work original and lively.
be considerate and stop.
walk on the lines of love.

robots bleed too.

violets in the sky.

2011-10-27T13:18:00.001-05:00

there's a vibrant mix between the two - cashew and coffee .

love never fails - growth is constant.

words dance - thoughts romance.

there's beauty in two opposites, there's elegance in the complement.

two hundred-sixty nine.

2011-10-26T11:53:00.003-05:00

ˈhīˌko͞o : seven.
(the irony, in the arms of another.)

the very thing she
left him for, her feet found their
way back to that thing.

2011-10-25T11:55:00.004-05:00

time to work, create.

wednesday afternoon +

2011-10-19T13:27:00.003-05:00

i've got so many words,

someone, please, release this corkscrew from

me,

from

my pen .

2011-10-08T21:48:00.004-05:00

feels like, i'm a beginner again -

& for beginners, the easiest thing to do

is to quit because, it's just the beginning

and i feel so unfamiliar with this.

can i live?

two hundred-sixty eight.

2011-10-07T13:48:00.003-05:00

journey to Jesus.

when august became a strong current,
this boat craved to meet its shore, to rest.

september came with vibrant tides and
this boat coasted trusting its guide.

now october carries a current so brash,
this boat is losing its grasp on this path.

lead it back - lead us back - lead me back.
these paddles lack strength, these winds are controversial.

lead it back - lead us back - lead me back.
this map is distorted, this compass is broken.

clouds close and clasp their hands
to pray for those cast down below.

november, will you be different?
december, will you be the same?

lead us back.

two hundred-sixty seven.

2011-09-28T21:50:00.001-05:00

twenty-one years, minus one.

and in his 21st year of living, he has to stand
in the face of reality to realize that for the
first time in his life, he won't be receiving
no mail, no letter, no card, no love, no. nothing.

because she's in a casket of mistakes and illnesses
that have been put to rest - she's sitting in a seat of
glory, or at least he prays she is - moving with him
every step of his everyday.

at this point, he realizes that yes, there's got
to be more to life - and he's finally living it.
although he misses her - he trust that the
Father will continue to protect him. and her.

the distance of love does not exist.
-

2011-09-27T11:15:00.003-05:00

one of those days when, the sun is shining but it's full of darkness.

two hundred-sixty six.

2011-09-23T11:29:00.000-05:00

when beliefs take control.

believe the hummingbird when it hums its most favorite tune and inspires you to sing along too.
believe the trees when they obey the direction of the breeze and inspire you to obey the same way too.
believe the clouds when they form an object that only you are able to make out and sketch all of your desires.
believe the butterfly when it flutters and dances all around your body, not touching you and follow its lead.
believe the nature that accepts you into the day, that it was created simply to obey its Creator.

believe in her words, when she says she won't be missing for too long - there's a fire in her heart
that cannot be quieted by just your brave and gentle arms - she's still waiting for His return.

but believe her when she says, she won't be missing for too long.

two hundred-sixty five.

2011-09-23T11:21:00.001-05:00

love poems; IV.

desiring a love,

deeper and

deeper

more deeply rooted

in a ground so fertile

desiring this love

in the deepest way known

to

the face of mankind

an immeasurable deepness

planted in a land

so fruitful

i only want one harvester

only a divine pair of palms plucking my heart
holding my heart and warming my heart - i only need one

pair of divine palms, love my heart into a deeper

type of love -

a love that defines the character that

we all know to be magnificent and untouchable.

Jesus , i desire a love that is deeper, that will surpass
the core of this earth You formed - one that no
hurricane can uproot and no tsunami will drown.

i just want to grow deeper, inside of You.

two hundred-sixty four.

2011-09-23T11:02:00.001-05:00

fictional characters.

he, like prince charming.
she, like cruella de vil.

the rescuer and the villain.
the charmer and the wicked.

tides of merciless chatter rushing
through his pathway, he stands firm.

in hopes to convince her that he is her prince.
cruella is one difficult crook to sway with words,
from the lip.

2011-09-16T13:45:00.002-05:00

critical thinking v. over thinking . ?

to write a short, short story.

2011-09-10T22:46:00.001-05:00

she wakes up with saliva running down the side of her lip, like a stream of cool water seeking a place to settle. her mind is scattered across the walls like a canvas covered in paint that drizzles down, at its own pace. it's fall, her favorite season. her arms stretch across her bed and she scrapes herself up, away from her mattress. in her room, there is a vacant laughter that is unfamiliar and she feels a clinch of disquiet hold her neck - she's awake. reality has settled and she's not ready. her body finds its way to the same mattress that she came up from. what is it that has her mind all over? what is this feeling of disquietude that has found her in her rise? how will she handle this new day that Grace brought her to? what is this?

"do not be anxious about tomorrow - for tomorrow will be anxious for itself."

"for you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes."

two hundred-sixty three.

2011-09-10T21:57:00.000-05:00

the art and the challenge of a dreamer.

can dreamers achieve the dreams that they dream?
will dreamers achieve the dreams that they dream?

dreamers can be incredible achievers.
dreamers will be incredible achievers.

dreamers, keep on dreaming.
dreamers, don't keep sleeping.

dreamers, we want to see you achieve.
dreamers, wake up that dream.

dreamers, please, don't keep sleeping.
dreamers, the world awaits to watch your dreams, to be a part of your dreams.

dreamers, the world is me.

2011-09-10T14:29:00.002-05:00

life, is happening.

two hundred-sixty two.

2011-08-30T18:19:00.002-05:00

elimination of uncertainty.

we don't

i don't

she don't

he don't

they don't

want

ambiguity.

save it for the

flooded streets

and the crowded malls

- where it'll dissipate and

fade away and it'll make sense

in its own current state - it'll hold

true to its significance,

ambiguous.

monthly movements.

2011-08-17T23:58:00.004-05:00

august,

you have thrown me a curve ball.

i can't seem to catch it. my palms are too small, too weak to grip it.

can you leave the credibility of my words (of my emotions) alone?

i don't want them to start fading the same way your days do.

be easy. be cool.

two hundred-sixty one.

2011-08-17T23:05:00.003-05:00

pulsate.

i begin to worry

when i can hear

and feel my pulse.

it feels abnormal,

surreal, almost like

a malfunction in my body.

i get a little weary

when i can hear and

feel my pulse, bounce.

the art of, patterns.

2011-08-17T21:42:00.005-05:00

the prints that are inside of the patterns are what flatter me. what keep me. what leave me. what come to me. what attract me. it's the prints that are in the patterns. and if only i could create my own pattern that communicated something new to you, to them, to us all, that has never been seen or known or touched before, i'd give it a try. i'd like a pen that scribed new patterns for my mind to understand each day, that is creative. that is free. that is spontaneous. i love solids, don't get me wrong. but they don't excite me the same way the the prints inside of the patterns do. because they are so bland. so mundane. always communicating the same thing. that's why i swim in an oasis of love located in the middle of the desert, where i can't be found, where the prints that are inside of the patterns cannot be found. it's beautiful out here. in here. and i would blast the moon with star bullets if someone would even dare try to take away the patterns that drip from my newly created felt tip pen. i would create them with feathers and pieces of the cloud to distinctly formulate prints that are inside of the patterns that no one will ever know, that they never knew. just be honest. how long do you think i could go on about the difference between the prints that are found inside of different patterns and solids? forever may not meet the tip of my tongue.

patterns are like habits, they repeat themselves. but if i could create this pattern, it would break the reputation of bad habits, bad patterns. life is worth living.

two hundred-sixty.

2011-08-11T00:37:00.002-05:00

work to do.

she's learned what's best for her.

he can't accept it.

so, he manipulates and he plays.

and she moves further and further away.

she's loyal to her lessons, won't forget 'em.

each day gets better, slowly, she forgets him.

two hundred-fifty nine.

2011-08-11T00:36:00.000-05:00

the story of a girl we knew.

she's thinner than she'd like to be.

her heart thrusts through her ribcage

and she can see its shape up against her skin,

she's so thin - and she wonders why , she hates

looking at herself in the mirror and wonders why

her body was made to see all of her insides, and

she understands why people can read her through her

eyes because she's transparent, she's thin, like the wind.

and she can't keep her food down, her mouth is the

crown of her volcano and from it erupts the disgust

she takes in each time she has a meal , it's violent.

how can she love herself?

will she ever love herself?

'09.

2011-08-11T00:32:00.000-05:00

your mind ...

two hundred-fifty eight.

2011-08-10T22:57:00.002-05:00

ˈhīˌko͞o : six.

you are too much of

everywhere that i don't want

you to be. please. leave.

2011-08-09T15:35:00.003-05:00

EVERYDAY, I'M HUSTLING.

two hundred-fifty seven.

2011-08-07T17:04:00.002-05:00

love poems; III.

lovers touch,

lovers speak,

lovers laugh,

lovers think,

lovers hold,

lovers wait,

lovers walk,

lovers dream.

2011-08-06T02:11:00.003-05:00

privacy, please?

two hundred-fifty six.

2011-08-06T01:06:00.002-05:00

wasteful whispers.

don't believe the scandalous whispers

that find way to your virgin ears - that

whisper ideas and drive you closer to fear.

she would rather take that ride than to experience

the joy that has been set apart for her, especially

and uniquely for her - she'd rather ride to fear.

don't believe the scandalous whispers

that find way to your virgin ears - that

tell you ways to mischieve and deceive

the truth that your heart feels, wants, longs for and desires.

what you know is what you know, that of which you trust and

Who you trust. let the Truth see you through.

two hundred-fifty five.

2011-08-01T12:12:00.002-05:00

melodrama surpassed.

he says he doesn't want to use you

to be his muse, his inspiration - - -

so he pauses, takes a second to sit back

he observes the situation, this moment

he takes his hand, carves a moon-shaped

crescent inside of his chest in an attempt

to collect the organic passion he feels for

her. for you. this is new. and he doesn't

want to use you as his muse, no. he is

filled with a raw and untouched love -

now, and he wants to serve you with it,

freshly delivered from the crux of his -

heart - oh, love. just relax. just trust.

me gusta viajar.

2011-08-01T12:06:00.002-05:00

my weekend , this is .

some day, this will be my life.

i'm like an ocean.

2011-07-27T16:12:00.010-05:00

i am, like an ocean right now. vast and slow moving. deep, like an illusion, i'm bottomless. i am a means of travel. i am a coast guard, at bay. i have an island of love, blossoming and expanding and taking over the ocean that i am. because i am an ocean that consists of fears. love covers a multitude of, everything. and this island, is covering a multitude of me. You are. i am a jet skier, seeking the thrills of this spontaneous life - no direction, no conclusion, open ended story book, open ended journey. i can go days without thinking about anything other than You and i feel ok. i feel complete.

i feel like an ocean. like a sea. like water. i'm just like the water. i am fluid. i can take the form of any shape and own it. i can quench a desert of its drought and heat. i can clean the insides of a body that lacks, me. i'm a talker. i'm a river. i am a waterfall that talks about tumbling down from the greatest heights to the deepest depths. and i don't try to make the best sense, ever. because it's like a never ending puzzle that can't be figured out. i'm like a puzzle that lost its picture of completion, but i am complete. and if you made it this far, you are interested in not me - but this art. i'm the puddle that stays alive in the scorching heat, because i am complete. i'm whole. i'm full. i am satisfied. i am what you look at to see you, isn't that something?

i've learned that i am everything you never wanted me to be and everything you wished for me to be, all in one. yes. and now, the sun shines brighter than the lights in a dark room over a nation that is so blinded by its governmental issues - i am not interested in another soul vanishing from the earth or another tsunami rushing through and crushing another country if you have no solution to the issues. i don't want to watch you debate over and over and over about who's guilty and why they are if you don't know anything for sure - let it be. leave it be. there is only one solution and this earth repels Him, in every way. and until you're ready to listen, until you're ready to accept - i will forever be an ocean, i don't have to respond back. i'm finally letting go.

i'm free today. i'm new tomorrow. i'm me forever. i am in and out of tunnels of desperation, finding a need for a new level of expression before this inspiration expires. before my fingers and hands grow tired. i'm reaching and soaring to land on cloud 11. somewhere out of this world, i'll be. i'll be like the water. like an ocean. i'm like a novel. a treasure. i'm like a routine that's meant to be broken and retrained. i'm not a program. i'm not just a name. i'm finding out where and who Love is. i am inside and outside of you. i'm floating. i'm boundless. i'm at a destination. i'm trusting You.

two hundred-fifty four.

2011-07-27T14:34:00.001-05:00

travelocity, short.

from where i sit,

i see planes, i hear

planes sketch the skies

and slice the clouds.

dreaming.

2011-07-20T16:44:00.000-05:00

do i have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?

- John Mayer.

two hundred-fifty three.

2011-07-19T22:32:00.002-05:00

july 19, 2010.

it's been a year,

and today it rained.

last year it did too.

i used my own umbrella this time.

asa is unchecked on my playlist.

it's been a year,

and today it rained.

last year it did too.

i'm glad i've been taken out of what was.

what was, was so trivial and fickle and foul.

i learned. i learned you. and i learned me.

how weak flesh comes out to be.

i'm glad you're gone -

i'm so happy you're gone.

two hundred-fifty two.

2011-07-18T22:50:00.006-05:00

love poems; II.

your voice, like waves rolling on top of waves

your eyes, like the depths of the seas that i can't reach

your mind, like the rivers that flow alongside still trees

your touch, like the waterfalls sliding against mountains

your words, like streams rushing to a place of containment

your silence, like the pond often over looked, but holds much meaning

your presence, like the lakes between trees under the vast skies

your ways, like the rays bouncing from the bodies of water

your personality, like a trigger i've never pulled because

love rests at the tips of my fingers, with you, love exists.

two hundred-fifty one.

2011-07-15T15:02:00.005-05:00

stranger strolling in search of gold.

his feet dragged along a cement trail

two bags of goods in his hands, he held them tightly.

baseball cap, collared shirt with sandals, rain came down gently

as he passed a green garbage can that was fixed in the center of two

pieces of sturdy wood, his eyes and faces fell into its opening

as he searched for whatever gold was to him,

moments later, he continued on that trail.

two bags of goods in his hands, he held them tightly.

what was he in search of?

what does he already have?

where is he going?

these are questions that i can't help but ask.

2011-07-14T14:14:00.000-05:00

dragonfly tales.

two hundred-fifty.

2011-07-14T01:11:00.003-05:00

love poems; I.

i'll hold you tight like a

tidal wave in the night, my knight

your night will settle across the

blanket of the day and cuddle the

blue skies as if they were mine, as if

they were me . you . we .

and like the ripples in the stream,

we'll roll , we'll tossle , we'll spin

u n c o n t r o l l a b l y . . .

we'll rock , we'll swing , we'll glimmer

in the noonday and sip tea like the fish

on the bay when they escape their expansive tank ,

we'll be free and sing songs of love, have them

dance from my lips to yours -

i'll write a song for you, i won't title it .

but it will be for you - it will be for me.

two hundred-forty nine.

2011-07-14T01:10:00.000-05:00

interestingly enough.

when will i?

when will you?

when will we?

pandoraJam.

2011-07-11T15:53:00.004-05:00

it's sweet - how this station has translated this frequency that has been jolting inside of me to songs that communicate all and everything i have been itching to let out. the art of song. it's unexplainable. i'm swimming in a lake of sluggish melodies, at ease. lyrics, stretching me through this stream of water. each strand of a wave floating me. moving me. vibing me. take it easy. refresh. renew. rethink. remind. recourse. reroute. go on, floater. redream.

mindful taste buds.

2011-07-06T23:53:00.004-05:00

regret has a funny taste to it, doesn't it?

2011-07-06T22:33:00.002-05:00

overjoyed.

two hundred-forty eight.

2011-07-03T23:00:00.005-05:00

midnight, summertime lover.

her fingertips are made of cutlass

and when she leans in for a hug &

clinches the valley where your spine

lays , she is determined to slice it

open to get an exclusive touch (&

she won't tell) of your insides , as the fluids flow -

like a surgeon , she wants to know

all of you , that she may take care of

all of you , internally and externally ,

she'll know all of you .

leaving you for dead , she's known to

do just that - be wise , don't make eye contact.

just. run.

on, cleaning the closet.

2011-07-03T22:22:00.003-05:00

reading things from back then , seems like i was referring to you . like i was talking about you . it's strange . how there really is nothing new under the sun . thoughts . words . feelings . emotions . sketches . passions . stories . experiences . nothing new under the sun . because , back then , i knew you and i knew this . i just didn't know your name . thoughts. i think it's incredible . are my palms strong enough to break this pattern ? this is incredible .

two hundred-forty seven.

2011-07-03T21:39:00.001-05:00

bargain lover.

i don't want to go

to a place where lovers pay

a price, i can't afford.

poetry fitting.

2011-07-03T21:33:00.004-05:00

"only crazy people can write poetry."

- man at grand lux, as he continued to recite 19th century poetry.

it was a pleasant conversation that my ears fell into.

i can attest to the above comment.

it's the truth.

two hundred-forty six.

2011-07-03T21:26:00.002-05:00

june's experimental exit.

i'm thinking , maybe june ,

you're just experimenting -

testing me , for no good reason.

knocking at the door , ear suctioned

to the door , ear thirsting for

a vibration , an acoustic , a sound

from a voice too familiar to the senses

in your , in its , in june's ear .

stimulation not stimulated not stemmed

from her , from me i mean because it's

vacant bhind that door and my voice ,

her voice is traveling on the tracks of a new ,

of another , in hopes to guide you nearer

in this , through this experiment you've chosen to

test me with , to test her with , you scientist.

and i don't like math , or science, she doesn't like

to use those - which is why behind the door , she

no longer waits to share with you the acoustics of

her sacred voice - leave!!!

because when you left , her hand stayed on her chest,

she didn't , i didn't want to say bye-bye. i didn't say

good bye because in truth, that's an oxymoron - you moron, you!

june!

stop testing she.

stop testing her.

stop testing me.

i'm so happy you chose to leave.

*opens door*

welcome to my home, july.

but don't make yourself comfortable.

please.

of, the sunshine.

2011-07-03T21:22:00.006-05:00

have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet? have you had enough yet?

have you had enough yet?

have you?

two hundred-forty five.

2011-06-29T01:27:00.003-05:00

beauty, in an abundance.

everyday you grow more beautiful

than days passed and i see you revel

in a room of noiseless conversations

murmuring the name of you underneath

their faint breaths, they speak of your

distinctive beauty and rest in awe at your

abundance of humility, you are free.

free to remember the love you once saturated

every last thought of your mind in and every single

comma you left for the completion of each sentence,

now you are free to complete and fill in the blanks,

fill in each crevice with the fullness of your majestic

beauty, the one that fills the crowds eyes when you

glide so enchantingly into a room crowded with distant home bodies.

demanding the calloused bodies to collapse and become corpses

to be renewed and refilled and rejuvenated with the presence

of a beauty so unnatural, one that is revitalizing, the beauty that

makes you, you - my darling, my love, you are beautiful and i pray for you

more than you may ever know, more than you may understand , you

are loved in such an immeasurable way and i don't speak of your physical beauty

no, i speak of your steadfast beauty, unfailing beauty, enduring beauty.

you defy the standard definition of what beautiful has become

and you have taken it into your own hardworking hands and you have made

it delectable and personal and private and exclusive and i'm elated to know

that only my eyes are able to make out who you have evolved into,

you are a vision that cannot be remade, duplicated , your DNA is anomalous

and i can read it , your beauty is readable, i am the only one interested and

when you publish a new read, i'll be there willing to take the risk

because your beauty

is one that no one else can

make out and i love you

i love you , i love you

more than the words

i love you can speak

or read to you, in your eyes.

your beauty is boundless - thank you.

two hundred-forty four.

2011-06-28T23:44:00.006-05:00

the great awakening: part I.

i've been longing for a more intimate moment with you

walking and driving and damn near flying, in search of a place

that i deemed sacred enough, to be with you, and only you.

and here you go, being you, as usual.

reminding me that you are the creator of this

universal globe that i think i have come to know.

giving to me, so graciously, that intimacy i have been longing for

in this room that has been splattered with shadows of demons and

sketched by the breath of death - you've been standing here, firmly near to me.

you've given me this exclusive and fulfilling intimacy through the

experience of a group of people who were seeking the same intimacy

from you - you are back in my life by popular demand because

my empty spirit demanded a resurrection that could only be performed

by the hands and the works of your majesty and my heart is at a point of ejection

from the flesh of my body that's been leading me in a direction filled with grief and

sorrow - guilt and a multitude of fear but so beautifully like a rose colored glass

turned clear, you've come to clear the fear from my heart and my mind, the sorrow from my

chest and the guilt from my neck that was left by the regrets of my past, love.

you've shown me an unconditional love that is timeless and cannot be bounded

by any human being that is known to this earthly scene called life, you've become too

real to me at this point of desperation, where i've confessed to you my longing for intimacy.

you, being you as usual, have awakened me from a sleep that could have ended

fatally by the pistol that was held to my head in a mischievous daydream, you saved me

yet again you took the bullet wound straight to your head and saved my life.

you have become more real to me, my king. my living and breathing lion.

the source of my life, the sun that shines brighter than the moon and orion's belt at night,

you have become more real to me and i see you clearly on this trail

in this valley - you are so heavenly.

and i've finally come to the conclusion that you're all i need.

i'm begging you, pleading you to keep me worshiping, at your feet.

death is sitting next to you.

2011-06-28T23:33:00.004-05:00

lives are being sucked out of this planet, every. single. day.

relentlessly.

and it's inevitable.

you never know when your turn is up.

death doesn't know slumber.

death is trying to get to know you.

output 163.

2011-06-27T01:37:00.003-05:00

i'm on to you.

two hundred-forty three.

2011-06-27T01:26:00.004-05:00

He died , for me.

i'm unworthy.

seeking purpose.

riding aimlessly.

holding on.

breaking down.

shoulders slouched.

cheeks filled.

stomach full.

purging out.

i'm unworthy.

patiently waiting.

silently seated.

trying harder.

imagining brighter.

painting deeper.

writing louder.

speaking slowly.

thinking secretly.

closing quickly.

building higher.

disappearing, vastly.

i'm unworthy.

but still,

You died,

for me.

sir greendown.

2011-06-27T01:04:00.006-05:00

danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone.

sleep stole my afternoon and has escaped for the night - this is what happens, when sleep realizes it has a mind of its own.

two hundred-forty two.

2011-06-24T13:56:00.001-05:00

dreamer, far gone.

let's go off,

and live in

side a cabi

n - where,

everything

is made of

wood , and

i mean ever

ything.

2011-06-24T13:41:00.006-05:00

i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go ,

so far away to a place that i've never been - and i don't want to remember it.

2011-06-24T12:54:00.000-05:00

it's like , swimming through concrete .

she stopped, counting.

2011-06-23T13:15:00.005-05:00

she's reached the point where the numbers have evaporated and her patterns have dilapidated. no more counting, she breathes. they only go so far . returning is not in mind . everything that happened , all that occurred , is now countless - no more recording dreams, memories, experiences for the sake of reliving, no. this plateau of happenings have reached its end. and she's decided to surrender - all . over . again . deep breath . eyes closed . arms stretched. feet lifted . this is where she learns , how to fly.

her experience on the trail.

2011-06-23T13:04:00.005-05:00

i've finally found a new purpose for the use of my fototrail . i always find ways to attach different stipulations on the way i do things which keep me at a stand still and i hated that, before. but now, i see where it has brought me to. and i'm pleased. i was hoping there was purpose to be found in the halt, and God proved Himself faithful as always. He's given me a vision. things are rolling gently against the brightness of the sun and i am more than satisfied. which means i will be reaching a new place of discomfort - but it'll have to do. i enjoyed shooting these photos of sarah. though there are only few, it was worth the adventure and the time to partake in it. i'm moving, with purpose. the old has passed away, behold, the new has come!

eat,
run,
pray,
create,
seek,
obey,
build.

two hundred-forty one.

2011-06-23T00:45:00.002-05:00

slumber IV.

when slumber gives me a ring,

i pretend that i've already fallen asleep

so i don't have to answer its call.

i'm having an affair with my craft,

it produces more than slumber ever could

and the passion felt with my craft has heightened.

i can't admit to you, slumber, what's been

taking place but trust me, i don't have time to waste

with you, any longer - the days are fast and nights are easy.

as for right now, you have nothing to offer me.

and no, i'm not saying that you're the problem, really,

it's me.

my apologies.

water treading stone.

2011-06-23T00:19:00.004-05:00

this path, this trail, this sidewalk was lonely. although it was accompanied by a few cars that would pass, like everything else in life, they came and they left. i trekked this path today. the weather was to be taken advantage of, the way it was so generous with its coolness and delicate sunset. i couldn't have asked for a better moment. and i didn't. but i received it, without my request. as my footsteps continued following the designs of this trail, came to a sudden halt.

i met this fountain at the end of the trail and it wooed me to sit down, invited me into a special moment it was having, a private concert, squirting a symphony from its nozzles as each drop of water slid down the stone, music danced all around the atmosphere and it was soothing. the kind you expect to hear from a saxophone or clarinet at a jazz venue. it was, dazzling. the fountain, it reflected itself which lead me to do just that, to reflect.

and of course, i seized the moment to scribe a few stories in my notebook of short stories. i expressed myself in an openly private place - how backwards is that? anything is possible. and everything i needed happened in this very moment - i followed the size of the sun as it set and it led me to a place i will not ever forget. that moment, that experience, those words and the symphony, i won't ever forget. no one is ever really alone - no one will ever be alone. we're always being watched. inspiration is my driver, i'm sitting back from now own. letting go. letting it own the wheel. you're taking me places i've been craving for years. needless to say, this day, i owned.

2011-06-23T00:03:00.006-05:00

hey you, i'm sorry that i had to leave.

i'll try to come back,

some day.

mushrooms and roses.

2011-06-21T00:20:00.000-05:00

two hundred-forty.

2011-06-20T19:21:00.004-05:00

poster child.

maybe he should have held that

thought and not have given it to

her, left it in her possession bec

ause now, she's handling it with

tension and high aggression - -

two hundred-thirty nine.

2011-06-20T19:11:00.001-05:00

ˈhīˌko͞o : five.

i hope you haven't

washed your memory of us,

and what came from us.

shaded bench.

2011-06-20T01:14:00.000-05:00

i don't think they'll ever understand .

two hundred-thirty eight.

2011-06-17T19:46:00.002-05:00

the life of a musician.

saxophone.

trumpet.

harmonica.

acoustic guitar.

melodies.

harmonies.

symphonies.

floetries.

love.

passion.

affection.

one.

two hundred-thirty seven.

2011-06-17T19:33:00.004-05:00

'tale of the train tracks.

i can hear the railroad tracks

wailing words beneath the trains travel,

"don't go! please, stay!"

even while they are leading the

trains travel to its destination,

they can't help it because,

that leading destination

is the right destination.

o' how selfish you would be

to redirect their destined destination.

silence your cries , let them leave.

exploration is in the distance,

they'll be back.

we'll be back.

and together,

they will ride.

extraterrestrial.

2011-06-15T13:38:00.001-05:00

i'm filled with it , again.

two hundred-thirty six.

2011-06-10T14:57:00.002-05:00

ˈhīˌko͞o : four, summer contrasts.

blue skies aligned with

silent, solemn, teary eyes

that come 'round midnight.

2011-06-10T14:18:00.002-05:00

all i need , are instrumentals.

two hundred-thirty five.

2011-06-10T00:33:00.004-05:00

frail flowers.

those petals appear to be frail,

they bend underneath the weight

of the heavy rain but still

find it necessary to hold

the raindrops

for only

a moment

until they

choose

to drizzle

off.

those petals are strong and

loving. kind and comforting.

patient and sturdy.

they know where their

growth is coming from.