Tuesday, May 19, 2015


Wednesday, May 13, 2015



Stimming and Gasping Im having Asthma.
One Son and Another Arisen, Mom?
Are you Okay? I don't want you to Know.
Yet I can't hide the Sounds of my Breathing.

My Son comes to me takes my Pulse in His.
He stands with me in Misery's Throne.
But I dont' want you to be like me Son.
He Says LItlle to Nothing. His Lamp This.

His Wings have Encompassed my Heart and Lungs.
With all of his Strength he Calms the Thronging.
Just WIth One Look he Lifts My Whole Being.
I Surrender my Doubt. I take his Love.

While I have been Strengthened he has been Drained.
My Child, Same Mother, Same Pain Again.

Friday, May 1, 2015


When April has passed its contents remain.
Though there is a drought golden poppies bloomed
Magnificent clouds gather foment rain
Distant as relief arrives in a storm
Necessary for the sweetness of spring
Though it has ended and May strikes its key
The first is for the People, hard-working,
Who toil as will their inheritors.
And as there is no justice for workers
There is none for the grandchildren either.
Then what does a yearning ported of fear?
Why wait while Misery never tires?
Why hold back our grievances, why conspire
Against our interests Misery tires.


The hills of Los Angeles rise strata
along the same force that the city forms
parallels of their magnitude apart
intersection urban and uniform

buildings from every view, and apartments
people conducting routines and schedules
stores, buses,sidewalks within the air vents
that channel through the boulevard’s street breeze

What oh what does it want from the person,
this fortification known as the town
that haunts with dreams of importance lost
certain and cautious doubtful and faithless

yet it grows closer to its destiny
destination the crashland of angels.