along the holy water hole
we stand and ponder leaving Baal
it cannot not be that simple
just a dunk in the pond
we stand and ponder leaving Baal
anointed in the river wave
anointed by eternal flame
re-birth as we kneel
pondering about leaving Baal
and then the Son comes to show us how
through shaky fingers you delivered, John
the One we left Baal for
there were times that as a child i’d run away into my imagination especially when the adults would fight it particularly hurt to hear my mother give up on God because she was so fed up with my father at that time i had two safe havens God and my imagination i was confused i had no leadership no plan no order later as a teen i had too many thoughts but zero beliefs i prayed but it was hollow i did it for the same reason smokers smoke out of habit i further went into my head i proved to be too much for myself as well there was too much empty space in a 90 lb body and the space in the hole of my soul was even greater i would draw lines idly at times not really connected to the sensation in my fingers one rainy morning walking to my school ditching destination i noticed three perfect snails juicy full of ooze and as i crouched to get a closer look i saw their flat gill like body making slow waves on the pavement as they carried their homes on their little gooey backs and as they millimetered toward a retainer wall with ivy and empty Schlitz bottles i noticed a silvery slick trail it was beautiful i thought but alas my hooky buddy was waiting with booze amongst other things now that i am writing down these thoughts i realize that i was shattered banged up and at times beaten but had i been broken i would not have been able to see God’s covenant of a silver lining under the three perfect snails He was talking to me still
i
stand here
in front of
you i a warrior
of truth and justice
angel of mercy that
i am by the water of
redemption and everlasting
life child of holy light forever
mighty soldier spirit freedom fighter
sent by the will of the Almighty Ghost
to protect you from your enemies
and to protect them from your greed
i am the innocent one
filled with the strength of love
conquering all that
harms you Mother
keeper of
us all
Earth
sun
stroking
my back
train is coming
across the tracks slowly
the songs of birds echoed
as i fell seven feet deep across the
mountain where the red tail hawk she greeted me with a gown of platinum jade and jasper and in her sigh
a woman mounted on Pegasus came to bless me she said to me the kingdom came and here we have the honorable nine dancing maidens whose Queendom we will share with you our guest
i raised my arms in disbelief and asked to be transported to the Southwest Museum where i was going the hawk she swooped and lifted me to show me the holy fields of rapture
we can arrange to take you back said the little maiden with tail of gold but we ask for a favor
you and your clan we hope respect the
remains of our sacred ancestors
i nodded yes and
in a flash
woke up
in
Toviscangna
pulse
warm sand
blue like glass
light flows through us
moon gathers the waves under her silence
our electricity blends into sound
whispers of rose
tinted dream
hold me
tight
move
slowly
the spirit
into my place
where the gods turn into earthly mortals
and will be toiling like the first Adam
and the daughters
of giants
polish
stone
some would argue
that i am the last
kind that God created
out of Adam’s
dick bone.
for i understand
most other males
of other species
still have their
carnivore baculum.
i thought i was his rib,
but that
is just sugar
coating the situation
in ignorant eyes i’m just a cunt.
i think about these
things by Los Angeles
Street and 4th because
i don’t know what else
can help all of “this”.
every wino and every whore
had to have had love at some
point maybe from the nurse
or taxi driver at their
birth.
do others think of my
thoughts i try to hold
still in my brain i
don’t mean to let them
slither through my ear holes.
i blurt them out
they are at times bitter
and at other times full of
gasps and groans
searching for a heart
to land in.
i drank the smoke and
regurgitated the fire
in the middle of the night
as the alleys turn into banks
of sulfur piss fog.
while the vomit runs
like manna, i protest
at the top of my lungs
the safety patrol giggle
while they ticket me two times.
we rob Mary Magdalene to pay
Delilah and keep her
quietly sedated with plastic jewels
my life blood drained
on an untender
pavement.
and as the morning comes
i cower against the
insurmountable dubious
truths of the moment
in time cruelly here now.
the sarcoptes on my legs
linger in the first class
of my thighs waiting
for my lunch with the
army of the disposables.
plastic bags filled
with bitter scraps
of trash posing as
life precious moments
fading like my mind.
those in the name
of holy begrudge
what they do but
do it out of
indentured servitude.
i float again
towards the banks
of grotesqueness
defeated whispers
some broken bones.
but Our Lady tolls at 3 p.m.
the lions returned
to the lofty lair
my right fist level to my eyes
my left catapulted at injustice.
where evils and torments hide
in the closet under boxes
inside urns of times forgotten
and disposed of like a bomb
glory be if it comes
by light but the night
is a begger and to hide away
her love she stabs me in my heart
the man will leave and take
away what will save him for
a day without noticing the silence
in the hills
of all the tools that have been
given by the only tree of life
depends on many factors writ in bloods
in dreams i can see inside of Zimmy’s head if i wipe my third eye i can hear the wind blowing in the waterfall if i stand on one leg i can tell how many eons the mountain will take to swim in the ocean in my delirium he asks me “well what did you see green-eyed one?” on my back i groaned the tiny crabs rise from their crevices i tremble as their tiny feet tinkle in the sand wiping my eyes with the tears of Mary i am overcome by the opening of the cave as if the Hand did unseal the jar to anoint me with freedom
being raised in los angeles is indescribable born in the old la county general hospital with its beautiful antiquity is an unbelievable honor i drive by there almost daily sometimes three to four times per day a place so intimately familiar and so alien at the same time i love it so much a sick love it makes me want to run through the abandoned hall ways and burrow myself in the old phone booths and never ever come out again Jean-Louis have you been here and do you know that i want to fill my lungs with that old air it was founded in 1878 ironically my three favorite numbers 1 7 and 8 forty-four years before you came to consciousness i was born there in the 70’s and i haven’t really consciously checked out Jean-Louis is it possible to be a human ghost i am a charity ward alumni but in many ways those of us born here continue to love our city bitter sweet the nursery that birthed us and healed us with ticket number infamy we have paid and continue to pay one large ass never ending bill one that is paid day in and day out hey! Jean-Louis you bum tell me something kid blow the sax of time is not a sandwich and we travel through the Ozone of your most triumphant hours general hospital with its jubilant height and art deco facades sends shivers through my blood cells when i see it off the santa ana 5 beautiful and mean and powerful and ever loving with its chiseled arms going towards the sky like the baby Jesus of your catechism years i can only imagine you Jean-Louis wide eyed Dharma child on the knees of love and me as a child i was introduced to many medical machines and medications i played for hours with knobs and hoses and tools i was sickly but willful as most angelinos but i wasn’t a wizard the hospital in my mind was a nation state with endless halls and sulfuric smells with the aroma of vending machine coffee and chicken soup like mother’s Yiddish parlor the shower rooms with white cold chlorinated tiles and the smell of latex too oh Jean-Louis even now i am conditioned to seek out these smells and no food is as good as vending machine fare now that i’m older i beat the gravel around Boyle Heights and look in wonder my child eyes and Converse sneakers have not really changed much probably because i refuse to lose sight of my cradle but Jean-Louis what does it mean to look all of your life for a granule of meaning and be told you are in God’s image and behold on top of a mountain there you are and while the pigeons pan for peanut shell gold i look at the horizon and the junk yards of the northeast beckon while i thumb through the pages of the oldest book
llego
el
tiempo de
verme como soy
un humano de hueso estelar
caminando por los caminos indebidos con pasos tímidos
hasta el templo de la antigüedad donde todos los secretos mueren en silencio
y en la lucha yo contra yo no entiendo mi naturaleza deseo volar con halas de ángel pero solo soy hombre
y en la decisión de amar o odiar me tropiezo y con furia levanto mis manos para el rostro de la santidad golpear con puños destructivos que no me llevan al cielo más alto
no me sirven los pies para llegar al lugar bendito y mis pensamientos navego a lugares fríos donde no hay luz
este día suplico tener permiso de entrar a la casa de mis madres
y que mi espíritu sea nutrido por sus
consejos medicinales donde ya no
sufra mi alma
y descanse
en
paz
chego
o
tempo de
veja-me como eu sou
um humano de osso estelar
andando nas estradas erradas com passos tímidos
para o templo da antiguidade, onde todos os segredos morrem em silêncio
e na luta eu contra mim mesmo eu não entendo minha natureza Eu quero voar com halos de anjo mas eu sou apenas um homem
e na decisão de amar ou odiar Eu tropeço e com fúria eu levanto minhas mãos para a face da santidade atingida por punhos destrutivos que não me levam ao mais alto céu
meus pés não me servem para alcançar o lugar abençoado e meus pensamentos eu navego para lugares frios onde não há luz
hoje peço permissão para entrar na casa da minha mãe
e que meu espírito seja nutrido por sua
conselhos medicinais onde você não está mais
sofre minha alma
e descanse
em
paz
the
time
of seeing
me as i am
a human of stellar bone
walking on the wrong paths with timid steps
to the temple of antiquity where all secrets die in perfectly still silence
in the fight i against myself i do not understand my nature wanting to fly with angel wings i’m just man
and in the decision to love or hate i stumble and with fury raise my hands to the face of sanctity hitting with destructive fists that do not take me to the highest heaven
feet don’t serve me to reach the blessed place my thoughts I navigate to cold places where there is no light
this day begging to have permission to enter my mothers’ house
and may my spirit be nourished by their
medicinal advice where my soul
will not suffer
and rest
in
peace
words less spoken 