I can grow so empty that I become full,
And am so lost, but know right where to go.

I will run fast, but while walkin slow,
And everyday; a solemn road.

This year spring will come, flowers, beauty, sun.
In cold, birds do fly, chase sun and sky.

South I wish yet West I am.
Always travelin’ land.
To find love and home,
My heartbeat always knows.ello-optimized-3106aa5a

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Dear city,

your sidewalk benches.
where the weary
rest feet.
oh the streets when we’re

tired.

(she’s so HEAVY) (dont be weak)

and woman, woe man, we
beaten down. beatin it. beat up. beatin round bushes.

we are burning.
(we got fire) (let it shine) (spark)

~this light of mine, it ain’t little~

divide
division, this fraction, fences/wall/isms. decisions.

the galaxy’s interior.
is a boundary.

holler
for one dollar,

street soldiers, speak.ello-optimized-0c3cf967

Discharge, ignite, blast,

Combusting reactions subside.

The story is same as the past,

Our seeds grow, live, and die.

I’ve always burned bridges in war,

Grounded but heart in the sky.

The story is same as before,

I love you but now we are wise.

Crumble at once as we fall,

Our ruins have become great walls.

It is time to rebuild with the moon,

We naturally sing to her tune.

And in the valleys out west,

We shall feast, find peace, and rest.

gun_flower_by_darklord245

To write. To suffer. To relieve. To focus. To complete. To care.

James Baldwin: “Something that irritates you and won’t let you go. That’s the anguish of it. Do this book, or die. You have to go through that. Talent is insignificant. I know a lot of talented ruins. Beyond talent lie all the usual words: discipline, love, luck, but most of all, endurance.”

This month, for the first time in over 10 years, I finished a complete song. Three verses, a bridge, and chorus. It was easy. But it’d been so hard for the last decade.

For many reasons, composing was anguish.

Rather that creating beginnings, I created ends,

Finishing stories before they’d even had the chance to begin.

And so, light would become dark, every word to the page.

30 years endured, persevered, survived.

To write, to grow, to share, to be, to live.

i’ve learned as i write, is i am better with words when i type.

the more i speak the less i get it right.

it could be as easy as “good morning,” and “good night.”

just got a handshake from my boss. “congratulations on your first book.” & ya know, honest, i’m not trying to brag. but it’s been a hell of a journey trying to “land” in a job where i can be happy, use my talents, and feel fulfilled and simultaneously contribute to helping the future of our planet. from the moment I was no longer a music major freshman year of college, I’ve been wondering, wandering, seeking, exploring the written word. from linguistics, anthropology, english literature, poetry, flash fiction, sociology, language development, to translation, shakespeare, ancient roman philosophy… i immersed my brain deeply into the world of language. i’m no Noam Chomsky, but i knew somehow i should end up in a job where i could express my talents in writing and somehow do good work with words. yet, i spent time in R&D with database developments in spreadsheets, was cashiering at the grocery store, scooping poop on a dude ranch in the mountains, hosting at a mexican restaurant, and doing campaign finance reports for large political accounts. all i kept wondering was, “am i really a good writer if nobody will hire me?” “why did the university give me a writing award?” “why did the university publish my thesis!?”

i most certainly had arrived at the point where my optimism had diminished, or perhaps became null in terms of ever finding a position utilizing my talents. i figured, well, i can always write for myself – in my blog, perform my poetry, put together a book of my own someday. though i love words, maybe that isn’t what is “meant to be” for my bread and butter. discouraging is not even the adjective. i was fucking burnt out, depressed, and disappointed.
after so many mentors, leaders, and successful writers and educators had put forth such substantial effort and time convincing me of my talents… after writing a paper for a professor stating his assignment was “misogynist and patriarchal” and him turning around nominating me to be one of the best writers in the university… well, I’d become beside myself that i couldn’t find employment doing what i do best.
I never wanted to write for sensationalized media, or create marketing and advertising campaigns. I mean, i’m sort of purist to my beliefs. i wanted to write to help nature, or music, my friends, our communities.. so my internships, the topics i covered, the opportunities i sought… no, they were not driven by “career” or “money” but instead i was driven by the two things i love most: beautiful sounds and beautiful places.
long story short, and i guess the catalyst to my expression on this topic today, is that indeed things work out. remarkably, after interviewing for an entirely different position in the logistics and financial department, i found myself in one of the most unique positions that any job-seeking candidate would want to be in. after meeting with my present company, they realized my passions and talents were with the written word, and asked if i would consider doing work much different than my initial application. of course, i obliged to the concept, and they created a job description for me. nobody else was offered the job, it was decided that we would make a great team and it was me that should be with the role of editing.
and indeed, we have become a great team. today, we sent our final pages of the glossary, key terms, and chapters to the publisher. i have officially edited my very first book. our anticipated market is likely to be over 20,000 people. and we’ve only just begun.
It takes our mentors and elders to recognize our talents. So glad for that interview and the opportunity my boss created. Glad I didn’t give up.12118830_10103424836841432_5007160093391178186_n

fishin’ is one way to seize the day.
be as pirate, silent, secret pilot.

or, so she dreams.

::hook, line, worm::
anchor, knot, wind…
Squirm.

shore, sand…
different is she on land.

a heartbeat found,
north to south.
’tis a new route.

mermaid, seeks
merman

for it’s never too late
to dive right up under,
& into a world of wonder.