unusual is how i feel today
please don’t ask of me
simmering in thoughts
i am grotesque in depth
depressing prospects i see
ever quiet i seek to be
depriving the self of stability
on the other hand i think
why do you look at me
never speaking out
Alameda Street
things in an alley
the smile the face the walls the sky the trees the ideals the rules the drugs the wolves the women the men the youth the old the sick the grass the tombs the space the prison the haste the mastery the theater the church the vision the isms the rules the history the law the upper ground the under ground the groups the lone the sailor the whore the priest the angel the holy the devil the medicine the blues the reds the thoughts inside my head today and evermore
there are
there are new cracks on the pavement caused by time strain and cheap materials there are old expressions on faces caused by time strain and indifference there are old buildings with new structural injuries caused by burning crack pipes violence and human defecation there are new leaders with bad intentions fueled by greed narcissism and ignorance
vejo o reflexo
vejo o reflexo da minha alma num espelho de facto a dor paira entre o sangue do coração e a electricidade ela olha para mim e aprendo que está tudo bem sentar-se em silêncio por vezes e apenas sentir através
Yolanda’s haiku
smog ring trash truck roar
morning toke begging cup score
her smile yet to be
Diego the flowers
Diego the flowers
that you painted on the backs
of golden skinned girls
farmed in mass inside buckets
now sold by broken old men
Diego the flowers
bloom no longer green and grain
just soak in buckets
on sides of freeway exits
food colored twisted blossoms
Diego the flowers
indigenous majesty
from a time before
the conquest of Silicon
with barcodes on their petals
supposing
when i look at you
my heart inches toward a
possibility
rise
today i open my eyes and rise to another day. it’s a special day and i am grateful. so many hours, so many days have come and gone. i am grateful for that too. for in that time frame i have become a little wiser or at least better able to survive. i worry that in the process of survival i will forget to dream. you have always cradled my dreams alameda street. today is extra special with Our Lady Queen of Angels hosting all of the believers who also survive in any way they can. i can afford some day-dreaming and wasting of time, but those days are slowly withering away, eroding like the bricks on your side my Lady. with faith you were risen and from these rocks and clay; from faith i was allowed to be born, but a different path had to be followed so that i might be here right now. had a more popular road been chosen for me, i would not be here with you fair Queen. now in your smog and your electric heat and rules and stop lights, i will faithfully rise again tomorrow and spill out unto the alameda once more.
words less spoken 