Verses Versus V

Me and my homie
Work late
Trying to escape
The imprisonment
Of the mind
Damn it’s hard
To find
Disguised or
By an ideal
And I’m just
Trying to keep
It real
To the homies
That got it
Damn to the
That got it
All wrong
Into something
Like it’s
We stay working


Sun Burner

As a kid, were you happy or anxious about going back to school? Now that you’re older, how has your attitude toward the end of the summer evolved?

This is something I had thought about the other day. I think being in school almost defined the season calendar thing. If I was going back to school then that meant the summer was over. So by not being in school I can’t tell when it officially ends or begins probably because it’s southern Arizona all year.

As I got older the summer time was a time for me to work. And I think I held a job every summer too. Yet not really true, there was the summer where I really was close to finishing school and had enough cash to last me through the break. I told myself to stay home and be a bum. Not a bum who begs for money, more like a bum that writes poems and has no desire to conform to society. I just wanted to mediate with Netflix in the background.

And so I did.

It wasn’t what I thought. Just because you have free time doesn’t mean that the free time gets used. It was like I had too much freedom. Not having a schedule or a place to report was a concept that seemed simple. Right.

It wasn’t terrible but it was a science experiment that I needed to try on myself. I guess all those summers working was good exercise for my brain but to just let it rest in that capacity was only confusing for me.

Funny story.

I mean it wasn’t like it was boring. It was like I didn’t know how to vacation. So it was an early morning and I was home alone. Everyone went to their gigs and it was this morning I felt inspired to write outside. So inspired that I didn’t even put on pants. I’m outside writing in my notepad only in my boxers.

Loving the moment and then I realize that I’m locked out of the house. This is what I meant about being confused. I never had to plan to not get locked out of the house. I was running all over trying to see if could get in another way.

My family laughed about that all week.

The summer has the same feel but yet at my age or place in time I’m aware of what I bring to the experience of the season as well. So maybe it has evolved by our choices we have to make. I think the summer will never let us down and the individual must realize they will get something out of it regardless.


Swimming Through Memories

Biting of more than you can chew is knowing how much to chew. So I choose to be taking all that is on my plate. Food for thought is what I eat for breakfast every day.

I been trying to keep the blog extra spicy these days. And that kind of means frequently. I think there was a time when a post before it got posted was this complex idea that just floated in my head for weeks. I had to gain courage about a strong idea storyline that would make a good post.

Now, I’m more open to what I post or say. Not so much brainstorming before I write. Maybe now it’s more about trying to catch the inspiration when it’s hot. And before when it got it hot, I would be “how do I really feel about this?” It would cool down and I could start to draft a post but this momentum was held back because I wanted to produce an artistic meaningful blog at the end of the day.

Still do…

I wanted to share a memory about a time when I was just a youngster and we were visiting my Uncle “gin-gin.” There was a pool at the apartment complex where he was living at the time. And we were outside talking and I was just learning how to swim. I begged my Mom to let me play in the pool. She didn’t want me to and I eventually got her to let me sit on the steps.

We loved to go swimming growing up. It’s the water’s cool embrace. It was an expedition always. Although at this time I was not an expert swimmer, and I made my Mom give her permission. So I’m playing on the steps and playing on the steps became trying to see how far I could walk in only holding the walls. In an instant I lost grip off the wall and couldn’t grasp the stairs with my toes. I was drowning.

 My uncle who was on the other side of the pool dove in with his cloths to save me. I wasn’t under water that long enough to be drowning. It was a split second before he could come to my rescue. I fell into the water like it could do me no harm. So grateful that my Uncle saved me so that I could tell this tale.

I did learn how to swim after that.

You know at the beginning of the blog I had my best friend/tutor John edit the posts and we would have discussions about the ideas and sentence structures for what I was truly trying to say. He was someone I felt comfortable explaining these complex ideas to, he enjoyed the fruit for thought as well.

I recently found out he is now retired and is playing music, writing poetry. Tutoring of course but not as often. I talk about this tale of my uncle saving me and it is just as significant to how I felt John tutoring me during the college years. I did need that help and being able to keep the blog going this long I feel I owe him credit for helping me start everything up.

John really liked the informalness of the posts. But we edited the big papers first. The blog was just a fun assignment for him to look at. You know life happens so fast that you are blessed to have these people in your life to keep you swimming or creating. At least you know they have hope that you continue to swim even after you almost drown.

These posts are bites at understanding what it means to swim.

Verses Versus IV

This is my
Unorthodox manifesto
Up to the test
Though, I be
Brewing my
own greatness
Aware of the
Under the radar
Of the expectation
Practice what
You preach
And if you can’t do
So I do both
Words be
The oath
Under the
Riches in the
Day, doing
What is beyond
The expectation
Laugh because
You made it
Is ignoring
To achieve
The fate or destiny
Whatever you
Call it
Live to tell
A great story
I’ma call it.

Stories from my stomach

Too Much Time To Think

Done saying, “I’m done playing.”

I think sometimes the hype of our dreams can cause these clouds of worry for the village in the head. The assumptions of the obstacles are more distracting than the real thing. The dream we are working towards is one of a kind so when I start to focus on the possibilities of not finishing, I become lost in the nonsense. I do it to myself but that is where it all begins. The self and admitting that not knowing is good enough as knowing anything.

We choose to grow everyday regardless of height, although our interactions and experiences give us new knowledge each time. Valuable content in words that I share as well.

Don’t think about it too much. The life and the dream know that they can be the same thing. If the mind is slanted right.

I’m just saying, “I’m done playing.”


Would Confucius Be Confused: trying to make a dollar out of fifteen cents

If money were out of the equation, would you still work? If yes, why, and how much? If not, what would you do with your free time?

This is how I would approach the situation, I would open a museum or art shop house (probably my house) and just spend my days painting or gardening. The art shop house would be open during the day and anyone could come and see the paintings. If a visitor enjoyed a certain painting or was just super fond of that one painting, then they would be able to take it home.

I think about my life if I we’re only invested in making one great painting a day. Rather than trying to make several good ones because I want to eventually sell them to survive from the currency they provide. I guess to call yourself an artist or some other label that requires production is a risk. I say risk because the words we use or identify with do have ideals attached to them.

Ideally an artist has art to show in what ever form. So in a world where money in not in the equation I would want to just focus on making great art because I would find peace in creating and when someone showed interest I would be so delighted that they had to keep it.

Be brave your an artist.

I guess in a world where money is so important. I think I can lose track of the me that doesn’t require a dollar. Now that is a tough bill only because the world we live in does require those fees.


If you could create a sequel to one of your favorite movies, what flick would it be?

I was always into the movie Rounders with Matt Damon in it, (Mike) is a poker player that has gambling woes but also these other commitments to consider when it comes to him just living life. A close childhood friend that really was always a bad seed to be near. Bringing trouble to his life by putting him in these dangerous situations. So caught up in resolving his friend’s debt that Mike puts aside the girl and the career.

I pick Rounders because the movie ends to with him leaving to Vegas. Mike on cloud nine from the victorious win is pursing a poker dream to play the best. I would want to see this sequel because it seemed that Mike was still going to be facing challenges on the road to come. Either developing a deeper connection to the game of poker, facing defeat or realizing that the game was nothing what he really wanted.

The love interest too for the sequel could also be more of what interferes with who he is as a person. I think in Rounders, Mike is so loyal to his childhood friend that he puts his own wellbeing at stake. That loyalty and care for someone was a strong way to pull Mike into gambling. Although in a sequel where he already has the thrive to play poker I feel there should be another individual not so much telling him to play, but someone who is stroking is ego. Of course allowing him to process his priorities and maybe that could mean him losing a game but not losing the girl “love interest.”

I wanted there to be a part two because it was like he had this restored confidence. Nearly beaten to death days prior, he was headed to his next adventure. I guess with all this confidence there is still new challenges and growth for Mike to deal with. He is not complete but very much battered at the end and I think there was still more to that tale of him playing cards in Vegas healthy.

The ending of one story is the intro to another.