Hi There!

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Our Father, Who art in heaven looking down at your creation...what went wrong with man? Why do we destroy each other instead of lifting up our brothers to make the load easier to bear?

Blessed be Thy Name; above anything or anyone else...I humbly declare with such intense love, that can't be contained. I've sent lots of kisses up above, when I see signs that You are near me, or that Your hand is at play...without disrespect, I love You with every fiber of my being, and every ounce of my essence. I love you without reason, measure or edge. Even if you know that I'm a sinner, please refer to the above...that will never change...okay?

I am your humble servant and kneel before Thee, and no man. For man is fallible and harbors darkness in his heart. Perhaps you will see why I've been absent from mass for quite a while...I am seeking answers to make sense of it all... and I feel I can learn no more...there. If that makes me a sinner, then please take into account that my intentions are good.
"Thy kingdom come," in due time. I am working on check and balances when the day comes.

"Thy will be done;on earth as it is in heaven." I set upon your strong hands my problems, and let my worries dissipate. The worst that can happen is death, and then it's only bodily decay. Why spend precious time mired in misery and regret?

"Give us this day our daily bread." I am thankful for the beauty you have created for us to enjoy. I thank You for the warmth of the sun, which nourishes our crops, so that I can enjoy fresh bread, this fruit of my labor. For which case, I also thank You for making me able, to be able to do so, as it is not the case for everyone.

I did an about turn to look closely at a young woman selling gum on a street of Mexico. Her eyelids had sunk in, and those lacked eyeballs. Still, she is attempting to earn her daily bread in such fashion. I pray for her too, so that man won't ignore her plight and lighten her load with the purchase of gum. And I thank You for making her presence known, so that I can realize how truly lucky I am, without taking things for granted.

What am I saying? We're all trying to make a sale at some point or another. She aspires not even to a ration of happiness, except to fill her belly, and hopefully to rest her weary body on comfortable bedding. Her body may be nourished with food, yet perhaps famished for love. Dear Father, why is everyone not created equal?

I humbly realize that the pain I see, and have endured in my life, is there for a reason I can't comprehend. I pray that you give me the wisdom to do so, and the template to endure whatever comes my way.....

"and forgive us our trespasses,as we forgive those who trespass against us."
I know that I have a horrible temper, for which I periodically spare my presence to others.' But when the anger subsides, please know that I try to make amends somehow...even if I find it very hard to forgive and forget...but You know I'm just flawed...and human. Please help me be more gentle and ladylike...most of the time.

"And lead us not into temptation." ... actually, I know You don't lead us into temptation for we are fully aware of what is right and what is plain wrong...so I have to beg that help me not to fall prey to my desires and obsessions. I guess, I've been worst enemy then.

"but deliver us from evil." Evil is ever present as there is night and day, light and darkness. I pray that you give me the fortitude to walk away from the easier path, the lure to appease my baser instincts which threaten to overthrow my good intentions. The internal battle is perennial. In advance I ask for your patience and forgiveness for when I err, but You can look into the hearts of men, and You know who I am.

I don't ask for much, although I do have to ask for those who are lost in the path, and fall prey to doubt, pain, bouts of misery and brake down and cry. Please lighten their load; help the alone feel loved, and to become whole. Also please open for us doors, so that we can live a full life as surely you intend for us all.

Please help me to be all right with what I have, and not sell myself for a plate of lentils. Amen



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Urgency

"For liberty and honor, one CAN AND SHOULD RISK IN LIFE!" - Benito Messeguer





“I need a wiener!… Give me one now!” This I urged the man behind the counter to expedite. “How much is it?…Okay, give me then three, and also fill this cup with water, hurry please!” I reiterated my urgency.

The day was unbearably hot. In the evening the heat lingered still, although not as furious as earlier. This was the type of day when your shirt adheres to your back, and one perceives a mirage of an azure pool beckoning seductively.

When ever I visit Mexico City, I always make the time to visit the Basilica of the Virgen de Guadalupe. This is situated on the same spot in which Juan Diego was instructed to build Her shrine.

Making my way there, I perceived a black labrador coming towards me. It was not strutting…rather slouching with its head down, at a slow pace, as if it were pulling a heavy cart; its tongue hanging out. Like I said, the day was sizzling hot.
Who knows how long had it been since this creature had eaten or drank? It could not say it in words, yet its beaten down demeanor, told me more then an eloquent phrase.

“No! I don’t want hot dog bread…I just want the wieners!” I said.
Before the man at fast food place thought I was deranged, by bursting in and clamoring for wieners in a gringo accented Spanish; I shared with him that this was for a dog, and that I did not want to lose track of him.

I still had to run in my high heeled shoes to find my raven coated friend. He was a block away, in a close ended street. “Hey! Come here!” I yelled, and I took out a cold wiener from a plastic bag and waved it like a magic wand.

It turned around and slouched towards me…while licking its tongue like window wipers. He picked up the pace, with the anticipation of such a treat. We met half way; he slowed by malnourishment and age; I limping along impaired by high heels.

We met halfway. It came close to me and smelled the wiener, yet hesitated. “Hey,” I said…"here buddy, it’s for you!” I placed the cup of water on the ground near him, and the wiener near its muzzle. After a bit of hesitation it grabbed the processed meat, and then it laid down on the side walk under the shade of a tree to work on this.

Then I realized the cause for the hesitancy. It only had four teeth, two on top, and two on the bottom; it was a slow process to consume even soft meat.
It used its paws to hold the meat at an accesible angle, and then slowly break it off, one piece at a time. I brought the water close to him, and the rest of the wieners I laid out in front of him on a plastic bed.

I let him be, and proceeded to the Basilica. In the entrance, an old man was on his knees on the hard marble floor. His face reflected deep anguish, as if trying to make sense of it all. By the look of this clothing, perhaps he too had not eaten that day?

I could only sit down and pray as well.






"Por libertad asi como por honra, se PUEDE Y DEVE AVENTURAR LA VIDA." mural and quote by Benito Messeguer

Reason?

“Delirium of Reason,” is that so?


This evening I saw an exhibit in the Museo de San Ildefonso, near the Zocalo, titled: “Delirium of Reason.” By photographer David LaChapelle.

This exhibition is an ode to how low humanity has sunk. Where some men and women will do almost anything for a buck. As much as the attempt was to produce art, if one studies closely the vacant and narcissistic faces, you will get a void of emotion, and a good portion of stupefied expressions.

The image above of Courtney Love portraying the Virgin Mary, and her deceased husband draped across her arms is a defilement of that which is held sacred by many. By exploiting her deceased husband's image to the hilt for a piece of notoriety, is this truly art or exploitation? As well as an attempt to elicit some form of sympathy? As if she did not facilitate this by condoning and partaking in drug fests?

Then you have a simulated Christ sporting a California tan, with a calculated sensual pout, so de rigueur of your typical model. Did you imagine Christ on the last supper wearing a vacuous expression, knowing he’d be flagged and nailed to a cross in rapid succession? This after being stabbed on the back by someone He loved?

The futile attempt to make satire society’s obsession with technology and name brands, fails if you don’t attempt to abstain from your cell phone, lap top, and designer sneakers, lest you sin of hypocrisy.

If you really wanted to make a realistic reflection of the current state of society, you’d have to include a woman with engrossed lips thanks to Restylane. These plumped lips wrapped around the engorged penis of her boyfriend or husband, while being sodomised with a roll of quarters by her boss, client, or random benefactor. That’s what is called juggling to make ends meet, in order to acquire Gucci sunglasses.

And when you exploit the innocence of children in your photographs, why not include a little realism as well? And picture a mother who exposes her child to this depravity for $100 dollars in her real life. A woman who exploits the welfare system, and trains her kid at 5 yrs of age to make her own breakfast of cold cereal and milk, while she sleeps away the hangover from the previous night.

Or if you really want to be updated and shock, why not create a scene with naked men and women quivering after the collapse of the markets and banks? This juxtapositioned with naked corpulent CEO's carrying mounds of money and an indifferent smirk...although if you stay true to form, and only elicit vacuous expressions from your subjects -- so long as they look good...or shocking...then the point, will be entirely lost.

So you like your models naked, as they came into this world. It’s nothing I’ve never seen before. Yet, if you wanted to expose them in the raw, why not devoid of make up and pretense? Devoid of the mask applied to create the illusion of the ideal of beauty. Yet, in the practiced pose, devoid of depth, it’s merely a fest of teats, slits, and testicles.

If this is satire at its best, where do people draw the line between creativity and trash? There is fine line between freedom of expression and trashing what is sacred to some…regardless whether you believe in it or not. I cannot hate Jews because they crucified Christ. For if I did, then I’d also hate Jesus, Mary and Joseph too – and this I cannot do. My point is, we have to respect what’s sacred to others´ even if we have diverging ideologies.

When I left this exhibit, I felt disappointed, and saddened for humanity. This because it seems it’s in vogue to have lost the moral compass, and some people will sink to new lows for a dollar, even at the cost of their humanity. I felt as if…someone had wiped his ass with the flag, or used it as a menstruating pad in order to create "art."

Where is the line between what is okay simply wrong drawn? Can a pressing debt justify murder of family to benefit from an insurance claim? Is it justifiable for a mother to suffocate her newborn, born deformed? I reiterate, where is the line drawn?

If you don’t believe in something, what the fuck do you believe in besides your adoration for money and adulation to feed your ego?
“Delirium of reason?” Not likely, for reason would dictate that it include the suffering of the collapse of humanity. This is Sodom and Gomorrah duplicated.

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“Regálame esta noche”

On the rear window of a pimped pick up truck, it reads the above, which means, “gift me this night.” I like the direct, yet pleading tone, as if asking for a sliver of love, an ounce of humanity, a reprise from the cold? A halt to raw loneliness, or ration of comfort supplied by two arms.

I don´t think it´s from some horny dude asking this from a first date. He´s asking for a whole night…remember? After the heart rate subsides, how then is the rest of the time to transpire? This plead is torn from the soul of one who would cherish every absolute moment, and find time has passed in a blink of an eye.

Ondulating waves of pleasure, varying in intensity, derived from holding hands, devouring kisses, and parting limbs. Languid licks and flicks of dexterous tongues. Inquisitive lips, and greedy hands. All senses inflamed: sight, taste, smell, and touch…and the melody of rampant lust.

Perhaps it would involve a movie, perhaps a comfortable silence…so silent, so quiet, one can hear each other´s heart beat. This reverie pierced by groans of ecstasy. And as the hands of the clock advance towards dawn, one can sleep floating in a gentle peace, which reigns in intimacy with a warm, vibrant body so close, as close as two people can be.

Perhaps this plead is tinged with despair prior to a final goodbye, or a chance encounter on the route of life. Beggars can´t be choosers, and one memorable night can be so sublime, as to linger perennial on the psyche and the heart.Infusing with so much delight, humbling one with the wonder of aching tenderness. Knowing full well time is running out, before dawn bathes with light, and the spell of the night is dissolved.

All aglow from the heat of a sizzling grill, which has become a shared mattress. Perhaps it´s a lament of one who needs comfort, or the culmination of restless nights scented with longing, slow-simmering in lust. From tender kisses, to rabid bites, epileptic seizures, as if needing to devour, absolve, and punish all at once.

All of this can be contained in just one night, provided one feels benevolent and generous to participate. How ephemeral and tenous is the hold on pure joy. Because there is such an intense happiness which overflows, and it cannot be contained, much less prolonged for too long.



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2009

2009

It is an odd number, as well as an odd year. Crime is flourishing, as well as the daffodils. Yes, I know what you mean said the cab driver. A guy just arrived from Guatemala heartbroken. He had closed all his pharmacies there because his manager there had been shot in the head, after refusing to capitulate to extortion from local gangsters. He made the arrangements to bring back the cadaver home to the family.

Yeah, I said. A friend of mine works everyday of the week, morning and night to pay off small business loans and help his small store flourish in Costa Rica. He was down one day, and shared with me that his wife had been robbed, very politely he said. This was the third time in six months. Listen I said, look at this way, at least your wife was not harmed, and by the frequency and politeness employed…this is clearly extortion at work.

I can understand the anger and frustration. In the end there is no concept like ethics that is better understood then the exchange of cash. I waited three hours in an office lacking air conditioning, demanding to see the head of customs. When he finally deigned to grant me an audience, he was adamant that due process had to be observed. Due process? I asked. I am here because I refused to comply to the extortion exercised by corrupted customs officers on site!

I appeal to your sense of justice and do what is right! “I cannot do anything, once the stuff enters a federal warehouse," he said. "I repeat, due process must be observed.” Then I said, "I see what you mean, due process of extortion is to meekly be complied with, and one must look the other way!" He looked at me sternly, and in a polite and taciturn way, ordered me to leave his office immediately. Waiting in a stifling office for three hours and slow internet access, is proof to anyone that purgatory exists here on earth.

Wings

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Hovering thirty thousand feet above ground; there is an intimacy with the clouds, as the plane nagivates through the nebulous midst, amidst the blackened night. This as black as robust coffee, a fanthomless void, and liquid gold. On my window I can see a wing slice through night effortlessly, as a knive does through cheesecake. Its wings like an eagle´s spread wide. Yet, from the corner of my eye I perceived the subtle presence of angels carrying these wings, I know this because my mom prays for me. These angels have long, reddish hair, and alabaster skin. They are ethereally beautiful without comparison to anyone.

Looking downwards, one can make tiny dots like rhinestones punctuate the dark landscape. How small, fragile, and naive man seems then, asleep after a weekend of debauchery. The clock dictates when to get up to get on the wheel yet again. How amazing is man´s vision. He is able to imitate birds in flight, and thus travel far. Yet, one must account for the downside of such advances. This in solidarity of voiceless protests my ailing whales, who line up on the shores and silently suffer, devoid of voice, rights, and vote.

I finally arrive, and thank God. I am the last one to exit, to let the herd go by. Upon exiting the plane I am met by an uniformed man, who hands me a medical mask. I enter a shuttle full of a sea of surgically masked. I am at a loss as to what to do, as I have a strong aversion for any type of restrainment. How will I navigate this situation? I feel as if I am entering the Twilight zone. Now in perspective, I know it was a prelude to what was to become a day torn from the page of Dante´s Infierno…which drove me to drinking…a Negra Modelo.




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Happy Holiday!

Happy Memorial Day Weekend!


We are blessed that the sun shines upon us year-round in southern California. It is a spectacular beautiful weekend, with lots of fun promised for all. With an extra free day, what a bonus! We can let loose and bathe in hedonism for three days. This memorial weekend happens to be the biggest day for race driving with just the Indi 500 to draw approximately 350,000 people. Not to mention the carnivals, concerts, hockey playoffs, and the superb sales retailers are offering to celebrate the fallen!

On this day when one commemorates those fallen in combat, it is ironic that more emphasis is posited on the devotion to pleasure. It would seem to anyone who views this carnival objectively, a bit sardonic. The noise of the drunken masses drowns the real pain and cruel reality of our current situation. I do frequently forget we are at war and that currently there are maimed soldiers suffering horrific loss. Yet, is it because of my accelerated tempo of life? Or that there are so few reminders that we’re at war?

There is no discreet downplaying the flash in glamorous televised events, unless you listen to public radio. Not even in consideration of the current recession which has wiped close to six millions jobs - and growing. And which threatens future social security, and alternatively, mental stability? So, let’s toast and be merry, although not everyone has the means to – nor the desire to. Least of all is the Gulf War vet, who cannot walk more than one block without aid. His body is ravaged by the effects of the chemicals he was polluted with.

Yet his mission was so secret that there is no trace of it. Therefore, he is battling still to this day, to get credit and compensation or it. Yet not all are oblivious to what this day entails; the insurmountable suffering which created this three day holiday fest. Perhaps they have witnessed the carnage which pits brother against brother, as if they were pit bulls in a fenced ring. Which morphs a good boy into a killer machine, when all he really wanted was a way out of the ghetto scene.

So, let us slather on the sun screen, drink and be merry, and along the way make a conscious toast for those brave men and women who are long gone,
and of those orphans’ products of war. When people say, "happy Memorial Day weekend!" do they realize what they're saying?




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Bitch!

Yes you are a bitch! And it’s not an euphemism. For you are an irrational and cruel bitch. You have a perverse sense of humor, which ironically I would appreciate, except that you make no sense, and you cause so much pain. Take the analogy of a commonly stocked refrigerator. Logic would dictate that you trash the putrefied stuff; the rotten apples, the spoiled food, and bad seeds in order to make room for fresh feed. The ice box is over stocked with frozen limbs, slivered pigs, and choice cuts of meats carefully wrapped, so as to contain their dripping blood. But what do you do?

You bury deep in mounds of trash bins, freshly sprouted peaches, sweet marmalade, and fresh lettuce. You rob fresh milk from the mouths of nursing infants. You discard without qualms the sole provider, so that the variety of the contents of that refrigerator lacks in nutrients, and happiness. Why is it like that? Why can’t you use logic and get rid of the scurvy first? That would make sense. But you know, I’m not afraid of you, and I will prove it to you. I am flying tonight to Mexico City for several days, which has an ailing economy you have helped entomb, as it floundered for air to maintain a pulse.

Pedophiles court elementary schools and sit in their cars jacking off as the little girls in fresh summer clothing walk by. You can read their minds, and you could stop them if you tried…. Yet, instead you deal with gentle souls whom are loved and needed so very desperately. Your agents are busy at work to promote your trade, and take anyone in their way -- you´re really perverse. You tease, and wait for a man to work hard all of his life with the lure of the good life, and when he´s about to reap the fruits of his labor, just then - you snatch him away. Like I said, I'm not afraid of you bitch, even if I see glimpses of you on my trip.

I am not afraid of you…when it pertains to me.



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Return to Whole

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I drove to San Diego for a meeting. When the day was over, the sea beckoned. Its call was irresistible, as it echoed the mermaids, seagulls, and Zeus. I rolled up my trousers, and took off my high-heeled shoes; I stood on the shore to contemplate the crash of the surf. The foam surrounded my feet like fine woven lace. I stood on tiptoes when it came in a rush. My mind was quiet and expectant, as I focused on the sun's glitter on the ocean bed.

Then I heard it, “Where have you been? We’ve missed you.” Oh, I said, well I kept away because you held a painful memory. You would know, you witnessed this. “Welcome back! We’re glad you’re back. Although I will tell you from millions of years of experience, it does not suit well to dwell in grief. Your time here on earth, is much too brief. The seasons change rapidly, and before you know it, your past is longer than the path laid before you. I’ve witnessed simple of men be exceptionally brave...

and content with just enough to feed himself. I’ve also witnessed spectacular opulence, mask such acute loneliness, and the moral bankruptcy as to fill the black hole in space.” I heard this echoed over the waves, over school of fish, on the breeze and surf, and the voices of mermaids who sang in the background with heartbreaking sentiment. I looked up to the sun, which was arranging his briefcase. Suddenly, a feeling of utter peace invaded me.

It was so powerful that it generated tears which clung to my lashes. The weight of those, made them travel my face like avid little tongues. I gave a big thanks, because I knew just then that I was healed; my heart had cauterized and the pain had evaporated. I stood there for a long time; my mind totally bank. I relished the moment of simple content. I looked for my shoes, yet these did not fit. I walked with a coat of sand on my feet; my toes have webs.





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Icy Palace II

“Where have you been all my life?” Snow White breathlessly asked. After she recounted seven orgasms, and begged her invisible lover to cease his ministrations, which made her core still palpitate and drench, as if it had a life of its very own. “Oh, I’m sorry; I should not have asked that. You where always very near, ever ready with a joke. With sage advice, or even a short term loan. You supplied a willing ear, to hear my rants… I guess…I guess I simply didn’t see you as the man in my life…and funny thing is…you were just that!

I longed for that elusive fairy tale which I’ve cherished since I was a little girl. For the happily ever after, we’ve been conditioned to expect. And you know what? It’s not that way at all. It is lovely at the beginning, like most fairy tales are, yet eventually the plot thickens and there is adversity to face, loss, pain, trials and tribulations which test the bond. Yet the saddest part of all…is falling off the steep precipice of love. Now I know better…I perceive the difference. No, no it’s not just the obvious physical part. Please hear me out.

With him it was me always giving, and I wanted in exchange to receive tenderness, and sweet long kisses that last an eternity. I wanted to be silly, and he criticized me for it. He said I had to be a lady, and be well behaved. He would roll over after sex, and snore like a pig. I was sleepless, and yet I could not find peace in his arms. He said he needed to wake up very early to monitor the markets, and that I should respect his sleep. I….I, can’t do it anymore. I have to leave him. I have to be true to myself, and not live the charade. Since we’ve been lovers, these past three months..

I resent him requesting oral sex, and not reciprocate in kind…at least not like you do…and you do…do it so very well! I am disenchanted with Prince Charming; I see the shallowness within. Listen…I’ve grown to care for you in a much different way. We can be a team you and I, and work together side by side. We can travel, and laugh until our sides hurt, and dance….who cares what people think! I perceive you in a totally different way. For you are a prince, and charming in your own unique way. You are a gentleman, and a gentle, loving soul.

You are noble, generous and brave, and you have self confidence to spare, and that is quite hot! We can be best friends and lovers, and support each other all the way. External forces need not intervene in any way. I don’t care for popular opinion, or even if we only live together till the end. Yes, I want this to be until the end, and for us to grow old together. I know that you’d be there for me if I became ill, as I'd be unhesitatingly. And in the end, we can embrace each other as either one makes the initial passage to the afterlife.

You’ve mined for the elusive answer to the ageless question: ‘What is it that women want?’ And you my friend, have found the answer….why it’s simply to be adored! And I can live with that…I love you in a gentle, enduring way.”


It was not happily ever after. It was a realistic version filled with mutual respect, laughter, tenderness, and hot sex.





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Icy Palace

The vast and hollow hallways were covered by marble flooring.
Cold and elegant, these imported from Italy. Icy diamonds swayed from her earlobes. Her closets were robust with designer clothing. Yet, this magnificent palace lacked the warmth of genuine loving. The diamonds, marble, and expensive clothing, were not sufficient when her heart was starved for enduring love. The hollow hallway resembled his narcissistic self, so beautiful yet cold.

He is a beautiful specimen of man. Very suave and that is why he is called Prince Charming. He is beautiful to behold, yet he is aloof after the notoriety of the conquest wears off. One day, Snow White looked so sad, that her solid friend, a dwarf, offered his shoulder to cry on. He was heartbroken, in a moment of lowered caution, he professed his love for her. “How can the prince be so careless with a delicately beautiful flower?" he asked. "If I were the price…the dwarf said…

If I were the prince and held your heart in the palm of my hand; I would worship you on a pedestal. I would weep from joy when I sink into you -- heart, body, and soul. I would cherish you like a sacred deity, and defend you with my very life if need be. I would be a formidable man, for your love would make me that man. I would conquer continents for you, like Napoleon did for his Josephine.

I would adorn our bed with flower petals, and stars, and I would invite the moonlight to witness our writhing bodies covered in sheen of perspiration, as we became one. I would invite the angels to sing and play the violin as we make love, and my fingers and hands would play your body like a fine tuned guitar, slowly rising in crescendo to terminate in a sonorous climax! Don’t you see Snow White?

Don’t you see that I’ve loved you for so long, and that your mere presence eclipses the brilliance of the sun?" Snow White was perplexed by this impassioned declaration from her long time friend. Addled by a wine glass or two, her lowered defenses made her accessible to his advances. She asked him to lock the door and to turn off the light…and then…delicately she deployed on the divan. She closed her eyes and said, “Take me then, make me feel loved again.”

Snow White could not contain the gasp, the sound torn from her throat when his big…tongue swirled and consumed her like a famished man, who’s not eaten for several days. The logistics were kind of awkward if truth be told, it worked best when she galloped the wild stallion, as if her life depended on it. Yet, it did not matter in the end, when their enthusiasm over rode those. His big…heart overflowed with love and passion, and tenderness. Her perky and modest breasts, seem huge when caressed by his diminutive, and roughened hands.


And then…


To be continued…

Tremors

Tremors


Blessed rain, which quenches the thirst of the soil
Pure water which washes away from my body impurities, and soothes from my psych, accumulated debris. The pollution absorbed as if by osmosis, from the collective wails and desperation of man. When it shook last night, I did not blink an eye, however,this morning, when I was an unwilling witness

To a couple of guys chatting in back of the bus; I involuntarily shuddered. Not from the cold. My soul shriveled and shuddered as if touched by an electric shock, or as if I had stepped on a dead rat. The conversation pertained to stuff like parole officers, court dates, fines, the need for $55 to cover some ticket, and finally as to how one knew someone, who knew someone, who knew the kid

Who has tattooed upper lips, and was beaten recently by the cops. “There will be a demonstration this afternoon.” He mentioned to anyone who might care. My spirit recoiled and trembled, shaken to the core simply because of the casual way this was discussed. As it it was a normal part of life. Like inexorably getting old, paying taxes, and eventually dying.

As if it were normal to have your life minuscule dissected, and dictated by Absolute Law. I shuddered when I perceived restriction and infringement of one’s indelible freedom of choice, and the right to liberty and happiness for all. I shuddered by the simple acceptance of traffic cameras, which are prone to make mistakes and inflict monetary hardship on families already strained...

Beyond the norm. I trembled by the casual way the patriot act was passed, without careful scrutiny, so that any law abiding citizen, who demonstrates dissent, may be black listed. I shuddered by the meek acceptance of cameras everywhere except the toilet, one hopes. I closed my eyes for a moment to shut their horrific conversation.

I focused on the flowers, the trees, the book resting on my thighs.
I smiled when I recalled that this very nationa was founded by
Dissent and those brave men and women who strived for the highest of ideals…yet, what would they say of what’s transpired thus far? Just then…I focused my intent, on the plan of my escape, to the civilized Amazon jungle for a while.







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Piece of Pie

Piece of Pie


The hospitable shade of a tree, hosted me comfortably. As I bit into my UFO, I felt someone staring at me. Sort of, a man stood outside his car to stare at the crack of my ass.
Pulling down my t-shirt, I ignored him and went back to reminiscing about today's lecture. What is it about human nature that refuses to unattached its self from stuff? Or from desires which in fact would create freedom from such?


It really could be cost effective, when we save an ulcer or a life. This inexorable attachment creates wars in the pursuit of an object, or for the abstract concept of supremacy over others'. Constant greed for a piece of the pie, the larger the portion, the better -- with the full knowledge, that when we don't distribute evenly -- it creates an imbalance. As well as a plethora of negative reactions and hatred; one must heed the possible consequences.

Women bemoan unequaled salaries. Why? Simply because owning a pair of teats are not exempt one from paying taxes, nor automatically qualifies for a reduction of living expenses. The white man bemoans his dwindling power with the onset of the women's movement, and the effect of equal opportunity employment. Some folks are ever trigger happy to sue for racial or sexual discrimination, to the point where the value of such claim is put into question.

The mixed man frequently resents the conquest and pillaging of his nation, yet paradoxically, envies the white man, and imports and emulates his fashions, notions, and customs. While the indigenous mourn the poisoning of that which is held sacred, and was taken more savagely then what they were proclaimed to be. The Asian man applies strict discipline and obedience collectively, for the good of the whole. With a stern hand, and the blatant erosion of human rights.

In a comical twist of fate, I wonder who will inherit the earth? Perhaps it will be the meek, after the powerful are engulfed? So I asked the lady who was giving the lecture. Listen, I said. I am fairly detached from money at this point, to me it is a means to be able to do something, or to fund a project. But, I find it very hard to let go of someone I care about when they die. I guess I am not evolved? She made the analogy of how when a hypnotist induces a man to believe that he is a rooster...


Said man will act as a rooster. "We have been hypnotized!" She said. Yeah, I said, you can condition a creature, and our DNA blueprints are 99% identical to a chimpanzee's, yet,what differs us is our ability to think! Yet, we fight like animals for a piece of the pie, I said. Still, I can't come to terms with it. "Let things go," she claimed. I omitted expounding on how much I think about sex all the time. I really have a long way to go before I'm evolved I guess.





.

League of Their Own

League of Their Own



I read in the middle of the night. This caused me to over sleep.
I looked at the clock, had twenty minutes to shower, dress, and
Pick up the place. Could I do it all in 20 minutes, and still be
On time? Are you kidding? Hell yes! In fast forward speed!
If I set my mind to it, I can do it. Even if I have to drive at
80 mph, and put on mascara simultaneously -- which I did.

When I set my mind to it…I carried my brother and his family two years, while he battled the demons of cancer. I carried an elderly, widowed aunt, who had no one to fall on, in a third world country. The young girl whom I hired to housekeep, and to be her companion; I paved the way for her to go to a vocational college – while urging her to consciously prevent an unwanted pregnancy.

I’ve carried a few others’ and there’s no room to expound on it.
Yet, even when the load was heavy, and I cried for no reason...
When the pressure impeded breathing; I forged on. I busted my
Ass to provide for it all. Along the way, I forgot that I’m supposed
To be cute, soft, and feminine. Especially when I swam with
Sharks, and constantly had to watch my back, for mere survival.

Yet, I am only one of the legions of Wonder Women, who’ve
Made scrumptious meals, of a bag of lentils. Who sacrifice and perhaps do without, to make sure others’ do not. That in itself, is a pleasure -- to induce pleasure and delight. Some females are innate wonders, other’s are induced to become them. It happened one night, when I was a child, that I was expelling my entrails.

My stomach was rebellious, and inhospitable to any nutrients.
Then my father told me,“Look, you can make yourself well,
by being stronger than this. You say to yourself with conviction:
'I’m stronger than this!'” And I looked up at him
With pitifully glazed eyes, a pallid face, and I applied his council. It worked for me then, and does, when things seem overwhelming.






.

Chinese Taste Fast Food

Chinese Taste Fast Food

What the fuck? What type of eating place calls itself that?
Is it the dumbed down version of eating out? How’ve we come
To that? Because when a celebrity is asked where Budapest is
In Europe; she answered that she thought Europe was a country?
It is like…taste like, but not quite like...as in getting hot sex
In exchange for money? Does it taste like love making?

As in having lots of pseudo friends; this tastes like genuine friendships? As in cheating through exams, which one crammed for a few nights…and being educated and intelligent in the same sentence? As in holding a Bible like a shield and armor, and still hating half the population? As in the utilitarian care of a Foster Family, so long as three meals are served, and provide a bed -- who then run to cash a monthly check? Does it taste like home?

Does it taste like passion when you respond to the man after the not so subtle inquiry about his financial status, yet act like frigid Ice queen when the numbers don’t act up? Does it taste like rubber when a breast has been blown in proportions by a silicone implant, because most everyone is an easy sell, when they point how much you are lacking in comparison to the norm -- and one must conform?

Like those guys who could not stop staring at the gorgeous
Creature who got on the bus? Yes, she/he was beautiful
But only under careful scrutiny would one be able to tell…
Does money taste like a successful life, when your personal life
is hell? Or when you’re empty like a cracked egg shell? What does
Happiness taste like? Like slimy chicken that seems pre-fabricated?

Later, I spent 10 minutes of my life, waiting for a red light to change, although it was not spent idly. An ice cream truck proclaimed “Soft Serve” on its driver’s side. Now, this too begs the initial question, don’t you think? Yet, not to sin from redundancy, I will abstain from wording it. It somehow brings to mind a limp penis, Viagra, and corpulent rolls.




.

Lovely Scenery

Today, I took the bus. It left me to transfer in a corner taken
out of a fairy tale book. Adorned with roses and verdant carpets
of dewy lawns. It boasted a cluster of little shops with flower pots on the window sills, and striped canopies to shelter these.
Noble pine trees sheltered the picturesque little houses, and hosted squirrels. The birds jubilantly chirped, and pranced on the electric wiring

This place took me back to one of my favorite places, Disneyland! I particularly like the boat ride which enters through the frightening jaw of a killer whale. I prefer to ride this boat at dusk, so I can view the tiny lit street lamps, light the cobble stone walkways, and the lights of these beautiful little houses, which belonged to those magical characters. It never ceases to affect me, even as an adult. I've always wanted to believe they do...

Exist! My imagination was ablaze, my eyes dared not blink, my mouth was agape! I believed our brave guide, who glided our boat unscathed through the jaws of death, when she described the peculiar residents of this magical place. The dark forests which bordered these tiny houses were filled with adventure, and constant measure of one’s courage and daring. It was too beautiful to behold, and to keep the illusion going…

I wanted to believe in magic and goodness, and that in these magical houses... there was never any incest, nor fears of losing their income and housing. No domestic violence, nor bare cupboards -- as well as no drug dependency, to cope with it all. There was no internet porn addiction, nor compulsive eating disorders - and the shame to follow it promptly. Surely, inside these cozy homes, a fire warms the hearth, and no one goes to hell for touching their privates?

Surely there is no better nor lesser people, and everyone is accepted the same? Even the Seven Dwarfs! Of course, when I was a kid it never occurred to me that perhaps these seven dwarfs were probably lonely, angry, and very horny. Or that they might jack off while imagining Snow White, bare, on all fours. Or that they probably deeply envied Prince Charming, not so much for his height, good looks, or wealth…Oh, no!

They probably envied that he was getting blown by their untouchable, and Oh, so lovely, and pure Snow White. I imagine that the dwarfs in question had impressive helmets when poised to project those, if one considers the ratio of their diminutive limbs, to their aggrandized craniums. Perhaps if...just perhaps if Snow White had coincidentally walked in on one of them as he extraneously labored, and suddenly there she is...in the flesh. His muse...His impossible obsession!

The fuel of so many naughty and fantastic notions. Surely Snow White might have been shocked, horrified...and yet...rooted to the spot. I think it would depend on the time of the month. Who knows perhaps she played with herself as well, in rebellion to her given name. Arrgh! See? Being an adult is no fun; one loses some of the magic with time, as well as the fairy dust which glitters in children’s eyes. In its stead, cynicism replaces innocence, and reduces the ratio of belief in magic, honor, courage, and endless possibilities!





.

Sun People

Sun People


We were only four, now we are up to ten – and growing!
We seek shelter under the stretched arms of the trees and
Numb our senses with currents of beer. It's almost like therapy
Dispersed with camaraderie. We are soldiers in the battle to
Forge on valiantly, we can only shake our heads and bring a beer
Can to our lips, as it curls up to sip, instead of fall down in defeat

It is not healthy to keep it bottled inside. The rage, the feeling
Of impotence, and fear of what’s to become of us. Mario there
Relays how his wife dropped him from her insurance plan
He who needs constant medical supervision due to his diabetes
“I don’t know where I’ll get my meds now.” He says bewildered
What happened to “for better or for worse?” He rolls his eyes

I’m thinking of going back to school, at this stage of my life
Well, it is better than to watch soap operas. We concur that this
Recession has shed light on the fact that if we don’t provide, we
Become a nuisance, and a load to carry. Sex? Forget about it.
She hardly speaks to me with civility. “You know what?” Manuel
Says. We should go every Thursday to the senior citizen club

“Why?” the rest coincide. Because it’s dance day and there's a lot of single women, who need an escort of sorts. Look, times have changed in so many ways. I know a guy who's 35, and living with a 70 yr. old broad. He resembles a storefront mannequin with lots of gold chains, and not enough fingers to wear all his gold rings. At that age don’t expect to have a lot of sex, although I think I’ll need a stiff...

Drink to become stiff myself."Ha ha ha." they all laugh. Yet, it's
Not so funny. You know my girlfriend cleans houses, and outright
This man asks if she is willing to clean in the nude for a higher fee.
It makes me so angry how people are taking advantage of this
Recession. I mean I was making 40 an hour, and now they want to
Hire for a quarter of that. Fuck them, I’ll find a way somehow…

“Please pass me another beer. I need it to face my wife when I go
home, she always asks if I found a job. Not even a kiss or hello
first. I tell her, I’ll find something good – soon. But you know
there are guys with masters competing in the job pool. I guess I'll
Go back to school, but so far the school of life has taught me that
Without money, there is no self-respect, dignity or humanity.”



"Amen!" All concur.





.

To Pine For Love

To Pine For Love


I checked out an Argentinean movie from the public library
It was titled, “Un Amor de Borges.” He was 46 yrs. old, and
Fell in love with a 26 yr. old. He lived with his overbearing mother, and was still unknown. The protagonist was painfully beautiful to behold, yet when there was a love scene, it came out wrong. She was supposed to be an idealist communist, and her passion..

Was lacking, in her expression and kiss. It did not help that Borges
Refused her advances, saying that he did not know how to kiss
At 46? There they were, she undressed, making a futile attempt to
Arouse him, and entice him into shedding his apprehensions, and
The shadow of his mother. She did not succeed, even as beautiful
as she was then. I would have liked to tell her…

If you deal with a momma’s boy, you better grab him by the balls
And show him whom he belongs to. If you fall into a relationship
With a man who is ambivalent about his inclinations, you better
Get inside his head, and play the part of the man. Even if you have
To strap on unconventional ideas, which conflict with your childhood notion of price charming. I mean if it’s a marriage of convenience…right?

I’d also tell her that when a man and a woman go to a sordid hotel
And disrobe, there is no perhaps, or simply getting to know
You make him feel at ease, and before you know it, you’re down
On him, and hell will freeze over before there’s any turning back
He loves you and puts you on a pedestal? Are you kidding me?
During WWII, you better get loved to make some sense of the carnage

So in the end Borges pines for his lost love, the one he refused to
Thoroughly fuck. I say they were both at fault, and I am only glad
That I did not pay a single dollar to rent this crap.
She coasted on her looks, and he relied on his charm
That ain’t enough to satisfy or cohere a relationship doomed from
The start. There’s got to be genuine passion and mutual lust!





.

Afterthought

.

The foggy morning veils the nascent sun
I contemplate driving to the beach to listen
To waves crash. I'd like to inhale the marine layer,
And probably fall asleep in a fetal position
So cold outside, yet warm under my camel coat
I think I'd better pass, and drive to get gas

As I exit the fwy., I stop at a red light...
On Riverside Drive. There is an apartment complex
With several lights on at 5:20 in the morning
I wonder how many people are making love at this
Very moment in that building? Or keeping warm
with body heat, entangled limbs, and enveloping arms

I stop at the am/pm station to refuel; I only do so when
The needle claims to be absolutely exhausted and drops
The morning midst refreshes my face; I see a woman
Clutching a coffee cup and a muffin; she walks sleepily
Towards her pick-up truck laden with flower arrangements
Oh shit! I forgot that today is mother's day!

I think that I should go to the wholesale flower market
Yet sleeps threatens to engulf me; Griffith Park is just
adjacent, I could go there and sleep for a bit...yet,
It's too cold, and the midst impedes the sun from rising
As I drive home, I try to think of what to get for a gift
I'm getting sleepy now; my sole focus is on driving straight

The sky is still foggy and dark; I then seem to enter the
Twilight Zone. A van speeds by, almost slapping me with
it's flapping bumper. The whole bumper is loose and
flutters like flowing hair playing with the wind
The word "MARIACHI" is written on its rear window
By its urgency, was he running from something?

My mom is a peculiar sort. She goes to mass everyday for as
Long as I've known. I think she prays for my sins
She decorates her room with posters of saints, and of course of
Christ Himself. One mother's day, I bought her a tall statue
of Mary made of cement. Although her favorite all time
gift was visiting the Holy Land and the Vatican

I'm sure she prays for me, and everyone else she knows
I am at a loss as to what to get besides a peach colored rose
My mind drifts towards the flower vendor clutching her coffee
and muffin. I hope she sells her flowers so they don't waste,
and she makes a profit. My mother makes me feel like a kid
When she calls me nina, and serves me soup minus the chicken

A mother's love is special and unconditional, although I am glad
She does not read my stuff. We're alike and yet so different
She is delicate like a flower, yet strong - I am brash like a bull
I don't think she'd understand where I'm coming from
You see, it is an exorcism of sorts
And a way to cope with the absurdity of life as we know




.

Totally Absurd II

"The glory of God is a human being fully alive." - St. Irenaeus of Lyons







I can’t believe the absurdity of it all…yet, that is exactly my point
Life is absurd when it lacks meaning, and it even more so when we
Adhere to a strict ruling, and near the end…one wishes for less regrets as well as….a wish to smoke a Cuban cigar on the shore of La Habana. I want to scream at the top my lungs on the summit of a mountain – the one I feared that I could not conquer!

I want…to fall asleep on the arms of someone who loves me, as do I. I want to take a big bite out of life, and savor it with delight, as it melts in my mouth like milk chocolate. I want to drool, and slobber over it and swallow it with gluttony! I want to feel ALIVE, l want to fall in love; I want to be challenged, forgiven, grateful, and full to my maximum capacity! I want to join a rock and roll band, or moonlight in a jazz band

I want to face fear and wrestle it to the ground, and kick the shit out of it, and then, make peace with it. I want to be a worldly man and make love to a Nigerian, Cambodian, and Brazilian girl. I want to make little girls giggle, and see their eyes twinkle, when I perform a magic trick. I want to see the admiration in their eyes, and know they think that I’m cool like that. I want to live to see someday grandkids, who’ll think I’m cool like that

I want to dance to the beat of my drum, to be a fool and laugh outloud and lack much care for others’ opinions of me. I’ve learned the hard way, that one can’t please everyone all of the time, and besides, there lurks in human nature that, which relishes to see you fucked. Like the ravenous roar of the crowds in the Roman coliseums, as the prisoners were fed to the lions, and an innocent was sacrificed like a lamb

I want to read Bin Laden's caught, for there is still so much pain, and needed closure, and mistrust -- as to how it really went down. Yet that is a prime example of the absurd. The herd graze the lawn, while the masses are distracted with the same shit on every Hollywood glossy magazine, as if It’s imperative that we be informed…of those. I’m sorry…I am complaining again. How much time have I spent complaining in my life? Favorite topic

Of conversation is to bitch, no doubt. OK, I will monitor that, but I won’t shut up, because omission is as much a sin as acquiescing is. I want to travel to far away places with very light baggage. I want to recapture the joy of my childhood, and accept everyone else with the same openness of kindergarden – before I was tainted by prejudice, fears and narrow mindedness. And if this is my return ticket, please God, make it quick and painless!







.

Totally Absurd

.

.

The Absurdity of it All


This lump is the best thing that’s happened to me
It was a slap on the face, an insult! Yet, also a wake up call
You see, I had been dormant all this time, complacent,
And very comfortable with my life, as is. I existed, yet I was not
ALIVE! I was an automaton, on remote control, and
Focused solely on the comfort of my bodily form

Oh, there was a nagging little voice of malcontent
Which occasionally asked: “what is the meaning of it all?”
But I drowned it and subdued it with noise, drink, television,
Pseudo friends and lovers, who scattered when I lost it all!
I always thought that if I did what I was told, and what was
Considered the norm; I would be happy and loved

I woke up each day, dreading going to work and anxiously
Waiting for my time off. But you know, I made a good living
I did not pursue my dreams, for dreaming is for fools
Cold hard cash pays the rent, women, and booze
Yet, I was the fool all along. I was laid off and I lost
My identity, the bills piled sky high, and I thought…

That life was not worth living at all
Yet this thing here… do you want to feel it?
This cluster of malignant cells has shaken me to the core
I WANT TO LIVE! Oh, God how I want to live
I promise if you heal me, I will be a better human being
I won’t take for granted every single day. I will reach out to

Other' even if it’s just to say “Bless you” when they sneeze
I won’t hide in fear, cowardice, envy and hatred of others’
I will start fresh and find a way to create something
I have squandered my talents in the relentless pursue
Of the dollar; I was a sell out. But, Dear God, if you give
Me another chance, I will find the way to really LIVE well

I know I’m chicken shit to call on You today, when I’ve eluded and
Doubted You all these years. Now that I’m standing on the edge of
Ta precipice of a long, and deep fall, I want to believe that I
Won’t cease to exist, that my life has meaning! I promise to live
it well! Yet, I can’t believe the absurdity of it all
Why was I born in the first place? What is the meaning of it all?








Salvador Dali "dream-caused-by-the-flight-of-a-bee-around-a-pomegranate" c-1944

A Work of Art

A Work of Art



A dab of lipstick makes the lips blush and pout
A bit of mascara makes the lashes flirty, and the
Eyes dramatic like those of a feline. A loving heart and
A complex mind, constantly well fed and alert
A spirit that is vibrant, vanguard, and never dormant
A hearty laugh that shakes the walls and tickles the soul

Long shapely legs, so smooth to the touch yet muscled…
For a strong platform. Hands with a healing touch
Which almost thoughtlessly carry a pencil or brush…just so
To create something astonishing almost by a fluke
Strong arms to embrace and hold someone close
In jubilant joy, or profound sorrow

Soulful eyes, full of life which crinkles in each corner
Deep laugh lines which is a report of many laughs and joys
Raisin skin, proof of time well spent and of man’s
Mortality. The quiet dignity of an old man which makes
Him perennially handsome. The sparkling laughter
of children, and insatiable curiosity

The expectancy of a mother, and her loving care
Loyalty of a dog which seems to understand and love you
True friendship, and adopted tribes
Generosity even if you don’t have much = nobility
Resilience to bounce back from defeat, and the mindset
To view these as lessons learned -- dented, but never broken

Love, love, love, love…for everything and everyone
Gratitude and acceptance for everything and everyone
All of the above reminds one, that life is what we make
Of it. Consciously, one can be a work of art in progress
Elastic and dynamic, for one is never stagnant
You either move forward, or backwards



Seize the moment!







"Marilyn In The Mirror" By Octavio Ocampo

Stuff

.

The Things That Remind Me of You



I want to share these with you. As well as my little
Victories or defeats; those I want to share too.
This succulent mango I’m sucking the pulp off, kind of
Reminds me of you. The mango meat is very tender and
Juicy. My tongue avidly licks every drop before it befalls
down my chin…or worse! To christen my top.

This morning I did try to focus on things and take care of stuff.
Yet, after your e-mail my mind is sidetracked. I cross and uncross
my bare legs, impatiently; I can’t sit still! Your writing has
affected me gravely, as I squirm on my seat - feeling moist and
somehow incomplete. I pull down my skirt to cover my thighs;
I seem productive, yet you know who occupies my mind.

Where was I? Oh, the things which remind me of you.
When I dip a French fry in ranch, the white stuff reminds me of…
Your teeth! When I shop in a department store, the selection of…
colognes, cannot do justice to your unique scent, as it melds with
The fake. The alchemy is so unique – so inimitably you!
When I click my seat belt in place, the way it presses my breasts,

Reminds me of the prison of your arms -- the one I am not willing
to escape. A sip of brandy, reminds me of how it clings to your
Lips, so delicious warm, and decadent. A bar of soap as it glides
Over hills, valleys, and folds, reminds me of your roaming hands.
And lapping waves, so insistent and forceful when they crash...
Those smack my back, to insinuate in recessed places...

Remind me of your aggressive nature. I secretly like that too,
Although I won’t let on that I do. There are other things
Which also remind me of you. The sway of the palm trees, like
Your hair when it dances as you pound hard over, and over…
On the Pizza dough. These are some of the things also. You
Don't need to do much to show me how nice you are.

Although I was wondering, besides the common and so
Predictable things most people do, like going to a movie,
Dinner or live show, is there something that you would do
To prove your dedication to me? No, it does not entail money,
Or juggling acrobats for entertainment purposes. Would you…
Dare to taste my blood after my bath? I’m whimsical like that.







.

Time

.
Morpheus embraces me and refuses to let go
I know I should leave our bed; I just can’t!
Just a few more minutes; I’ll forfeit breakfast!
He seduces me to fall under his spell yet again,
And off I float away, enveloped in his arms.

Last night an unsolicited visitor arrived
I don’t know who he is, yet I instinctively recoil,
Turn off the lamp, and cover my semi-naked form.
I’ve felt it before, a kiss on my lips from and unseen
Form, yet this time I feel stingy in my response.

I did not want to share the intimacy of my bed, now
Shared equally with six books I lay with each night
I hope the LA public library does not fine me
For such impertinence. When you check out their
Books, ever wonder where those have been before?

If the energy were just right, I think it would be fun;
To make out with an invincible lover who wet my…
Appetite. He would have to be clever and tease me
just right. Then, I’d welcome him with a smile…
inside. I frown; I’ve forgotten what it feels like.

I recall that it’s as much a psychological impact as it is
Physical. This because it signifies a profound connection;
A melding of energies, and in a primal sense - surrender,
to a worthy mate. It’s a simple and direct language
Conducted by Eros, between male and female.

It’s unequaled softness, clasping an unbending
Will; it‘s a clash for supremacy, yet, in a sense,
It’s the loss of self, and a mutual surrender in the end.
I make the supreme effort to open my eyes to see the time.
Oh shit! I only have ten minutes to shower and dress.



.

New Shoes

New Shoes



There is a place to hang your hat, a dwelling
Or habitat; a zealously guarded cardboard box,
And, there is something called a home.
The difference lies in the ambiance inside
Furniture, photographs, a stack of unpaid
Bills inhabit this. Yet, in a home there is…

A feeling of security, and of real intimacy.
A home can be an oasis from the world
Filled with beauty and serenity, or for a
Few lucky ones, the walls echo the cries
Of ecstasy. Then it truly becomes a haven
And an exclusive paradise for two, or more…

Mondays are kind of odd. I am busy most of
The time attending lectures, gatherings, and stuff.
Monday is when I don’t know where to park.
Going to my cave is not appetizing tonight.
So I think that perhaps I need to get new
Summer shoes -- the sexier and sluttier even better.

Prior to that, I drive into a fast food place craving
French fries with ranch. I ask the attendant for
A veggie burger meal; she serves me a bun piled with
Lettuce and tomatoes. How’d you expect me to pay
Full price for lettuce and cheap white bread I ask. I
Immerse my fries in ranch, and watch the people inside.

A former beauty queen passes by. She must have been
A real beauty 20 years past. She still is, if she where in dim
Light. Except the too tight jeans exalt a roll, and the
Overdone make-up, seems like too much mayonnaise
Splattered on dry, leftover turkey. A futile attempt to make this
More appetizing to the palate. She sits alone and waits.

Her platinum blonde hair reminds me of Marilyn Monroe.
I think that perhaps Marilyn did not want to sit and
Wait by the phone, while the globs of make-up could
Do no more -- anymore. I notice this place has no soy
Patties, yet is does have a lottery vending machine.
One must come here and expect to be lucky either way.

There is a veteran Chola sitting alone; I can tell by her
Leather face that she’s had a tough life. And by the way
She made a scene when her gold ring fell into the trash bin.
I look at those women, as I read a book and slurp my coke;
I wonder where have all the good men gone?
Oh!I then recall, that we are still at war.




.

Marbels

Where’d they go?


I think I’ve lost a couple of marbles
I was not aware of the fact, until weird stuff
Started happening. As in wanting to smash
Someone’s head, on the keyboard over and over
Again, and type with the tip of her nose on the keys.

How many times have you contemplated this?
Adjacent is a girl who does not masticate her
Food. She kind of inhales it, slurps it, and sucks
The bone marrow simultaneously, as she expedites
her lunch down her esophagus, and punctuates it with a burp.

It is a magical disappearing act! And as I am
Trying to write and simultaneously eat, she always comes
Up to attempt to converse with me. Please just go
I tell her telepathically. Can't you see that
I'm concentrating, instead of outside making out with the sun?

Then the other day I did my laundry. Due to my
Wearing all white kick which signifies light and purity,
I washed it all together. The t-shirts, brassieres,
Shirts and cotton undies…along with a blue ink pen
Which infiltrated this load and wrote all over it.

I’ve created a collage which I’ve taped next to my
computer, and on the wall by my bed. I find solace
when I view Miller, Neruda, Vallejo, Hemingway,
Marquez, Bukowski, and L. Cohen as well. They
Quietly observe me and tell me…”They don’t own

You…they don’t own your soul.” So you see, my bed
Is already populated by men who’ve deeply touched
Me in some form. Have you ever had an orgasm
While viewing Henry Miller in his old age? It is kind
of strange, and fascinating as well.

So, if I were to have sex, it would have to be in a motel,
or perhaps on a bus stop bench. One can at least hope a
man owns his own bed? That’s not too much to ask for, no?
I wish I could have met these men, even if once. I would
Have asked a lot of questions, and shared a bottle of wine.

And upon parting, I would have given each a tender kiss,
As sweet and juicy as a nectarine on their puckered lips.
This kiss infused with passion, courage, and gratitude,
For men such as these have taught us that the real danger
of losing one self, lies in becoming too domesticated and meek...

Which is akin to having a lobotomy willingly.
So I think I've lost a couple of marbles on the way...
Where did they go?
Where can I find them?
Automatically my lips paint a smile when I think of the ways.





.

Sincerely,

Dear Ms. Steinem,



I want to thank you so very much for all that you’ve done -- and still have yet to do. I imagine the road has been arduous and exhausting, as you swam the channel against the tide. This fueled by courage, insight, and an iron will. Perhaps a bit of insanity may have helped at times, like a sip of brandy warms the heart.

I walk a fine line between fully embracing feminism, and some traditional views. I was raised Roman Catholic, but see the true folly in not controlling natality.

I still have a problem with casual sex, not because I am frigid, but rather because I don’t want to be used as a semen depository. If one is in a mutual loving relationship, well, that’s another story.

I stand up for myself, and for those who are abused in any form, which leads me to the thorny case of pro-choice. I would not want to be tied down and stripped from any freedom of choice, nor do I condone that it inflicted on any sister. Yet, as mentioned above, I feel it is wrong to play the Russian Roulette, knowing there is an option and an escape.
It can be as easy as extracting a mole, yet, after the passage of time, how many women have regretted their choice? Truly.

Fujimori once launched a campaign to compensate women in the poorest provinces of Peru, with a paltry sum if they voluntarily acquiesced to sterilization. I was dismayed by this treatment of women as if they were mere herds of cattle. Yet, to bring more hungry mouths into a world that is fragile and eroding its natural resources, is also an egregious mistake -- more so, when it can be easily avoided.

I know in my heart, and wholeheartedly agree that women, and girls need to have low-cost access to means of prevention, and they have to stand up to their men to demand protection.

I feel more comfortable walking the middle road, for I can’t turn my back on who I am. I have found exhilarating freedom in not attempting to please everyone else; and I take it as a compliment to be called a bitch and somewhat eccentric.

I am a woman and it is in my nature to love, nurture, protect and encourage. And I use my intuition to sift through the muddle of conflicting theories. I am compelled to lift those I can, and I wear my femininity with pride, because I am proud of being one. And like a flower, pliant and soft as the petals of a rose, I still have an unbreakable stem.

I can’t be a ball busting man, unless it is for self-perseverance, yet, I feel this misconception of women as ball busters, have fueled hate and anger from men feeling castrated. I love men (with the exception of the less evolved), and I also perceive the fragility of their egos, as well as the heavy toil it is to be the sole breadwinner in today's global economy. We need to support one another, and not become mortal enemies.

As evidenced by my mother, I've learned that someone soft spoken, who never swears, can be formidably strong, and a true warrior against adversity.
When little girls, young women, and old learn that they can be self-sufficient, even with a micro loan to produce llama sweaters on their own, then the dynamic will change. They will feel empowered to walk out of an abusive relationship, or deter them from selling their bodies for compensation.

It is sickening how some men objectify and exploit women as mere sexual toys, yet there are also women to blame. The woman currently labeled “The Sexiest Woman in the World,” is quoted as wanting to marry a real smart guy, because she is not.

When I read stuff like this, I want to pull my hair because there is so much attention given to the exterior adornments, and so much lacking in the interiors.
Interior decorations can be cheaply acquired, by simply visiting the local public library. One can dive deeply into a vast, profound ocean, and find amazing pearls hidden in the vaults of knowledge.

Ultimately, in the war of the sexes we must not lose sight that we are in essence not defined by a penis or a vagina. We are beings who have forgotten, that we are equal parts of a whole.

Thank you for your efforts and your fight; you truly showcase that beauty is ageless.


Sincerely,



....




Link to WOW:

http://lifestyle.msn.com/your-life/bigger-picture/articlewow.aspx?cp-documentid=19334939>1=32001

XJ6

XJ6


Once upon a time, I put high value on material stuff.
I preferred to ride the bus, than to buy a car not up to par
With my sophisticated taste. So I walked; and endured
The herd of odorous humanity compacted inside a bus.
And saved my dollars, quarters, and pennies for a car.

There was a guy I was fond of, not in love with, let’s say
Intrigued by. He claimed to be dark, in a brooding, and
Intellectual way. He wrote me a poem titled “Traviesa,”
Although I thought he meant that by my playful ways.
He told me did not get mad, he got even with his co-workers.

He would sneak to the communal fridge and spit on their
Food, or dabble his urine into their bottled drinks.
Out of the blue, one night he said to me: “You’re
Hyper-sensual.” He said this in a peculiar way, as if he
Were commenting on malodorous foot odor, or flatulence.

Something shriveled in me. I felt ridiculed and
Ashamed in a way; I intuited that I had to censor myself.
Now hyper-sensual differs from hyper-sexual; it is another
Type of anomaly. I realized that because of how he had
Been raised, there were only two types of girls. Good or bad.

Censoring myself did not work for me in the end,
And we soon drifted apart after that day.
To start fresh, I decided to get my first car.
I bought a hunter green Jaguar XJ6, from a
Real state woman through the Recycler. I loved it!

It had a sunroof top, and tan leather seats. It fit me
Like a good pair of leather shoes. The only setback
Was, that I really did not know how to drive a car. I
Pondered this as I sat in my Jaguar. Oh, I did have a
Driver's license. Although it was thanks to San Martin

De Porras, that I was granted one. If one considers
That I almost gave whiplash to the DMV examiner,
With my brash, and audacious stops and starts.
I had driven a few times in empty streets while
On dates and such, and only very late at night.

Being self-sufficient, I did not want to impose on my
Siblings too much. So I started the ignition and drove off,
One street at a time. Funny thing happened, with every mile
driven, my confidence surged! Within days, I cautiously
ventured into the 101 fwy., still uninsured. Good thing is

It was during gridlock traffic, so that I could slowly merge in.
A few days after that, I exhilarated in speeding down
The fwy. without red lights to hinder me.
Everything was fine, except I could not parallel park.
One day, I took my mom to lunch and drove into a...

Crowded parking lot. What a weird coincidence that
From the opposite side, the urine and spit guy was also
Arriving driving his compact car. He seemed surprised
To see me not waiting for a bus, but driving a beautiful Jaguar.
I ignored him, and told my mom to hurry up.

After our lengthy lunch, we set out, my mom and I.
I found a deep scratch, like that of a lion’s claw, along
The full length of the driver’s side. I inhaled a deep sigh,
And thanked heaven that I was rid of that nut. Yet, we
Were to meet by chance again. I was in a multiplex ...

In the concession line, when I saw him embracing a rather
Homely girl. She seemed meek and a good girl. He saw me
and looked into my eyes to gauge my reaction. It sucked
Because I was alone. Yet, I quickly realized I’d rather be alone,
Than with someone who ruins beautiful things out of spite.






.

Int'l Worker's Day

Today is celebrated around our ailing planet,
Int’l Workers Day. Times sure have changed,
With machinery replacing much of human capacity.
This creates more revenue, while making the
Working man expendable. It keeps some subdued,
And timorous of losing their income.

Now, don’t confuse this as any worker’s day...
It’s not for the soft-assed, who view each client
As a meal pass, while they mess around on the
Computer all day. This is the day to venerate the
Workers who toil in back-breaking labor. Who’ve
Built our infrastructures, and those who put their life

On the line when the fire siren sings. It is for
The men and women – and sometimes children…
Who may have given up on their dreams,
So that their families don’t go without much.
The check may not stretch a lot, with the
Incremented taxes, on top of ballooned inflation.

Perhaps they need the succor of the Payday Loan
Scam, or of the Food Stamp. It’s for the women who
Lovingly tend your children, while neglecting their own.
It’s for the worker who works in a sauna, to expedite
Your lunch. It’s for those who despise their jobs,
Yet show up, day after day, after day…just because…

They have to. Governments should give a bonus to
These unsung heroes on this day. A bonus and a free day.
So they can take it to pay off that Payday loan, or null
the senses with a drink or joint. To lose their cares in a
mediocre movie, and to recapture some thread of humanity,
Or self worth. This day, not to soley live to work which erodes

The spirit and makes one and automaton. It is quite hard on
The psyche to look at the clock and wish it would speed up.
Even if every tick tock, brings one ever closer to death.
To do harsh labor, regardless of back pain or personal aches.
Or with harsh chemicals which are nefarious to their health.
Did you ever stop to think about these people as heroes?

They truly are. I once asked a dishwasher how he came
To be there. It was not his reminiscing of traveling
Inside an 18 wheel container without proper ventilation
Along with three hundred other people, which made
My eyes open up like saucers. He said that after three
Days of hardly eating, and drinking muddled water…

Some of the group didn’t make it when crossing the
Cruel desert. Near the end, as the street lights were
Barely discernable, an older woman, a bit chunky he
Claims, refused to go on. He is of medium height and
Slight, yet he picked up over his shoulder, a woman
Who'd given up on life. When his strength was exhausted…

And he couldn't see from the strain, and his friends urged
Him to drop her – this young man would not give up yet!
He dragged her by pulling her arm, and unceremoniously,
They finally arrived. So, how about it? Give a stimulus
Package so there is something to look forward to. And while
You’re at it, why not legalize some workers, and marijuana too?

















Mural by Diego Rivera 1933 "Detroit Industry" or "Hombre y Maquina"