summer 2007

don’t worry a tangerine smell is around the corner,
you might have left it there, that
along with the sunshine, the creek,
and the picnic you had packed for the two of you
The food, well the food, it’s been 20 years
what remains is dust
and it’s stinging your eyes

looking through my diary

We sit by the ocean
while eating grapefruit,
and gazing
through white windows

A tea party is automatically nostalgic
lip biting returns while diving further into the future, adulthood
and whatever that means,

The painting by the ocean is prettier
than the others
due to the salt, and its healing properties

I am in the air,
planning something for a future moment

three weeks from now
that might end up being too late when executed

Bag lady

That sheet of metal that you have installed as a roof
isn’t preventing you from drowning.
The sun cannot reach you,
your head is dry,
preventing growth,
suffocating the sprout.

It’s October,
the month of the soul.
I can feel the change and introspection happen
within the melancholy earth colors.

This time last year I was almost in the same state of mind.
Wanting to grow,
but following a blueprint
of what others have found successful.
The true blueprint I should follow is
the one of the trees.
Let the baggage fall.

Future plans

Having no future plans,
truly, isn’t as scary
as some people
make it out to be.

I may be homeless
or jobless at some point,
but working a 9 to 5 that I hate
would be worse.

At least there is a certain passion to this

Even if I have a secured job after I graduate,
still wouldn’t bring me the sense of security
I need.
The only certain thing
I have
is myself.

So I should work on myself, right?

Perhaps we are all working on ourselves by making future plans.
As in to not commit suicide.
Future plans require
a certain presence
suicide would get in the way of.

Last day of February

It is the last day of February
and I am lacking inspiration.

Months seem to go by
with no trace of productivity.
Oh well.
What should I do?
I know,
I should take on a new perspective.

A fresh one.

One free of insecurities and worries.

Let go of all of the thoughts
that don’t serve me anymore.
And there are many.

Isn’t terrible how people fall in love,
unreciprocated is the best kind.

Next month, I will be more productive.
Even if
the hoped for,
dreamed of,
aren’t reciprocated.


Have you ever noticed the way people can spot an artist
from a far.
Is it the dress?
or in the cool graceful manner
that they carry themselves,
articulate steps with a
I’m over this attitude

The coolest older couple just walked in
The woman is wearing a tie dye blouse and a long skirt
which is belted at the waist

The man is wearing a black t-shirt, blue jeans
and Rayban sunglasses
Their outfits compliment each other

I could stare at ‘artists’ all day
the energy they give off
is fresh, and intelligent

Actually, this is where I get my inspiration,
the people that I look up to
the people who go to art galleries
the people who listen to jazz
the people who decorate their homes with art