“Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family: Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one.” – Jane Howard
Continue readingDaily Quote: We All Need Somewhere to Belong
Mental health
We are Met with Silence (a poem)
I. Relativity
Have you noticed?
The homeless population is increasing
In the LA tent encampments
Surrounded by luxury cars
They plan to change the world
They are our only hope
At night, they bake beans over trash-can fires
Tell stories of their downfalls
And imaginary triumphs
Then they cuddle up in their tents
And scream into the void
They are met with silence
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I’m Not a Malcontent (a poem)
During winters of discontent
It’s imperative to remember
That I’m not a malcontent
And all I must do is surrender
Surrender to the sky and the sea
And throw my body in the ocean
The water washes over me
The salty air is like a potion
There was a time in my life
When I was in a straight-jacket
And I left the hospital foaming at the mouth
And was met with intolerable colors
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The World is a Mirror (a tanka)
World is a mirror
Stare back, see the beautiful truth
Reflection is you
Give hate and get hatred back
Give love and feel the warmth
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Lost and Not Found (a poem)
I. Alienation
I’ve lost track of time too many times
What am I doing here?
No one was there to answer
The streets were so empty
And there I was again, lost
Lost and not found – the story of our lives
Trying to find purpose amid the ruins
Of late-stage American capitalism
And cycles of market collapses
So, I kept wandering
The sky was charcoal but, despite that,
It was so hot the concrete sizzled
Is this what they predicted?
There’s nowhere left to turn
Everyone else has burned
And here I am, lost again
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Reach out and touch me (a poem)
He said, “Reach out to touch me”
And I thought he was joking
Being pulled back into the maelstrom
Of cycles of abusive relationships
It’s like being lost at sea and
Seeing the North Star
Only to be pulled away, back
To the turbulent waters
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The Monk and the City that Loves Him: A Novella Project – Part 1
As promised, here’s Part 1 of my new novella project. In this brief part, we get introduced to The Monk and Louie, as Louie panics and begs for money to help him with his withdrawal. Thus, the journey begins to get Louie sober, and The Monk hopes his friend can hang onto life as each fix could be his last.
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Blue Thoughts (a poem)
We had blue thoughts back in those days
When it seemed, the skies were always gray
What were we thinking in those days?
Only to get away from that place
Youth is carefree, except when it’s not
When the troubles of blackened days
Cloud a mind that eventually strays
And wants to cut the cord of thought
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Introducing The Monk and the City that Loves Him: A Novella Project
I’ve got another idea for a longer story I want to share here on WordPress – The Monk and the City that Loves Him: A Modern Spiritual. Like what I did with Mother Portia, I plan to share this as a “work-in-progress” and post segments of the story over the course of the next few months.
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Mania Again (a poem)
My mind explodes in pain
It’s like a volcanic eruption
I know that I am not sane
And my life is an interruption
The prophets foretold my death
On a lonely street in a distant city
The madmen screamed ‘till I was deaf
Then the hospital committed me
