Saturday, August 30, 2008

FREE DIVE

The kayak glides
Smoothly , through crystal clear blue
Put on my weight belt, mask and snorkel
Grab the spear gun too

I slip into the water
At the edge of the reef
The end of a lava finger
The fish are spooked
On the bottom, I have to linger

So many beautiful colors
All the reef fish have
Sooner or later
I'll have one in the bag

I spot the biggest cowrie
I have ever seen
A fist sized shell
Brown dots, and a vanilla sheen

Rays of light filter through
The powder blue sea
I see my fish
It's looking back at me

It's finally time
I've seen what I want
Lucky for us
It gets a head shot

I'm not a diver
Who takes more than he needs
It only takes one
For me to feed

I love the sea
And the warm pacific water
I enjoy all of the sights
I don't need to slaughter

I slip back in the kayak
And head towards the shore
Knowing that by just taking one
I've left a lot more


Miloli'i, Hi. 1996

FOR STACY

Bubbly and vivacious
When you call my name
I can't help but smile
Even though, I have not
Seen you in awhile

A year goes by
Nowadays so fast
I sure miss that smile
And all that sass

I hope to see you
Soon someday
Give you a big hug
Thanks to you, I'm OK

You're not the only one
That's helped me along
But you let me sleep at your pad
And watch TV all night long

Picked me up , when I was in need
All I had to do... was ask
Can't wait for your visit
In the sun, we shall bask

For now I'll do my best
To be good, and behave
I hope you'll bring your board
So that we can share some waves


Stacy, thanks for all your help and support,
Your Friend,
Emilio
Puna,Hi. Aug. 2008

Sunday, August 24, 2008

THE CHEVY TRUCK

The sun is shining
On my old, Chevy truck
It may look like hell
Still I feel I'm in luck

Rusted beyond repair
There is no question
I can look in the bed
And see the suspension

The rear driver's side of the bed
Fell off on the road
I cut it off with the saw
Now it just a scrap load

I put in a radiator
From a junked mini truck
Used some wire and a 2x4
It still runs, my Chevy truck

I put in a bed liner
From a Ford Ranger
It works well to haul dirt
But it looks a bit stranger

All in all I'm lucky
To have this 3/4 ton gem
I don't care what it looks like
It always starts when
I put the key in

In a way the truck
Is a bit like me
Patched together
Yet still sturdy

Nothing last forever
Not I, you, or the truck
But for now we're all running
Thanks to God, and good luck

Puna,Hi. Aug. 2008

Saturday, August 23, 2008

SMILING

I gotta feed myself
And buy some gas
I hope this month's
Money will last

I haven't done laundry
Since God knows when
I wash my clothes in a bucket
With my bare hands

When I'm sad I take a little blue pill
It feels like a warm hug
Takes away my chill

The pawn shop
Is like a 2nd home
They know me by name
Sometimes, throw me a bone

It's all OK
"No it's not!" some say
The proof is in the pudding
I woke up alive today !!!

Puna,Hi. 2005

Ode to Bobby

Most of us are strong enough to over come the massive traumas life has to offer.The small things, or better yet the accumulation there of are what breaks some of us.
Bobby shot himself 11 years ago. His family cleaned up the garage where he slept and where it happened.Then they padlocked the door to his amp repair shop where he worked, and is adjacent to the garage.So devastated were they that they could not bear to dispose of his belongings. So they remain untouched, just as the day he left them. While working at his family's house,I found myself in need of some tools he might have there.I was given the key and unlocked the padlock.It is though I had gone back in time.Everything was in it's place , just as he had left it.
The bill of my baseball cap became entangled in cobwebs.I was looking for a square, a level, and some assorted drill bits. This is the place where we spoke of kite flying and design, of frequency response, and tube amp repair. A place where we looked into each others eyes , and knew we were different. I found myself looking for something other than tools. Answers ?
I feel him there, knowing he sees me. All the while I stand there, wishing he were alive, so that I could ask the questions no one but Bobby could answer.

Hollywood,Ca. 2002

Pseudo Haiku

Enclosed in this post are 6 of my favorite "Pseudo Haiku". I wanted to write Haiku, yet I did not want to have to conform to the traditional structure. I hope you will enjoy them.

Panama
You're not from around here
Said the Devil...... Panama. 2001

The old porch
Retains the fleshy drunken fixture
Year after year...... Hollywood,Ca. 2002

Winter wind
Birthday wishes puddled and smeared
On a whore...... South Beach,Fla. 2000

Toast colored hills
Desolate and serene
Another body dumping ground...... Studio City, Ca. 2002

Boulevard jungle
Implanted huntress gatherer
Societal Whore...... West Hollywood, Ca.2002

Late spring
Scraping bleeding poppies
Guarantees tonights dream...... Hollywood,Ca. 2002

VALERIE

Valerie is back
To console me
For awhile
Her blue embrace
Makes me smile

Her visits sometimes
Seem like a blur
And while she's here
She makes me slur

She makes the rain and mud
Seem not so bad
For now,she's all the comfort
I need to have

Puna,Hi. 2005

HOLLYWOOD

Barking neon
Illuminates the trash strewn streets
Urine,Urine, Urine

The pasty faced whores
always leave me
Wanting more
If I explore
Between her thighs
I'd find Mamita
Is a guy

Psychosis
Hangs like a fog
During the rapid
Transit ride

I read a book
Flunk the test
I lay on the floor
No need to rest

The escape filled
Poppies are calling me
In Hollywood
To what end are we?

Hollywood,Ca. 2002

THE DROP

With 13 loops
I made the noose
Tight enough
But not too loose

They'll get over me
Came the thought
Yet I decided
Not to Drop

Tomorrow is another day
Perhaps a friend will call
From far away
It might be just enough, to stay alive
Another day

Puna,Hi. Jan.2008

SALT SPRAY

A small pool of sweat
Collects on her chest, between her ribs
A natural occurrence
When we do what we did

On my lips it taste
Like a sweet, salt spay
Seared in my mind
Is the day she went away

23 days is not long
Where ever she is
That's where she belongs

In my mind
I see
Our shadows on the wall
I sit here wondering how long
Until this memory is dulled

Puna,Hi 2000

GREY BALL

The candle light cast our shadow on the wall
Our image contained
Two heads, four legs
In the center, a grey ball

It undulated to and fro
Last time I saw it
Was eighteen days ago

Yesterday for the 3rd time
I heard her voice on my machine
"It's OK to write", she said
"Although, I'm making arrangements to leave

I think I shall not see her again
Not hear her voice
She'll never read words
From my pen

I'll do what I must
For this yearning to end

Puna,Hi. 2000

Friday, August 22, 2008

THE END

He woke in the desert near the side of the road. He sat up
"Today is the day" , he thought. "Today The End will come."
He had felt the end coming for some time, and when he looked about, he saw only the wreckage of his life.Gone were the hope and dreams, the great ideas. Empty propane tanks and empty gas cans were piled up beside him. Next to those were the trash bags that the dogs had ripped open. Empty cans of spam and crumpled pouches of tobacco lay strewn about.
Then he saw it, a dark car on the horizon. A rooster tail shaped plume of dust followed it. He smiled. He knew for certain this was the end and it was coming for him. Finally he could see the end,and he was relieved. He tried to gather some of his belongings together. The 3 month old dirty laundry, the books, pictures of his past loves, the cards they had given him, the poems he had written to them, frantically he tried to scoop them all up. No matter how hard he tried to hold on to them, everything would just fall out of his hands. The past was gone. he could take nothing of it to The End with him. Looking up, he could see that the end would arrive today. However, it was still quite far off.
A small snake appeared and began to speak.
"Why did you bring all this garbage to the end with you?" The snake asked.
"I didn't", he replied.
"Nonsense, these are your memories, these are all we bring to The End with us. Could you not remember anything else?" , asked the snake.
"The good memories of my life have faded, overtaken by the anguish of my present circumstances", replied the man.
"That's unfortunate, memories are all we have at The End and you chose to leave your best ones behind." "All of your adventures, love, joy have disappeared, just as once large rocks now lay as dust on the side of this road. It is also The End for me", said the snake.
Suddenly a Hawk appeared and began to circle overhead.
"What memories have you brought to The End?", the man asked.
"I don't have memories, I am of a different mind. I have only feelings. This morning I've eaten a large rodent and my feeling is content"
Just then the Hawk dove , but missed the snake.
"I suggest you travel back, and return with your fond memories"
The black car was only a few hundred yards away.
"I think it is too late for me , the end is almost here", said the man.
"This may not even be your End, simply your perception of it", replied the snake.
The Hawk dove again , and the snake sprang into the middle of the road. The speeding black car ran over the snake, killing it. The car did not stop as the man expected. The snake lay flat, as the car sped on.

Leo awoke covered in sweat. The phone was ringing. He did not bother to answer it. He was mesmerized by the view of his yard through the window. The storm had past, and it was a gorgeous sunny day. Slowly, he began to pick through his molding dirty laundry.He took the bundle outside and filled a 5 gallon bucket with water and soap. After rubbing the stains with a bar of Fels Naptha , he began to scrub the clothes with a stiff bristled nylon brush. A light breeze was blowing through the trees. The early morning sun was strong.Leo was sure the clothes would be dry by mid afternoon.
He surveyed his surroundings. Joy began to fill his soul. He remembered his past and forgave himself for all of his wrongdoings. Happy memories began to fill his mind. Thoughts of The End slowly subsided, as he realized that his future was full of possibilities. A male cardinal swooped down and perched itself on a fern frond and began to sing . Shortly thereafter, a female joined it, then they both flew off. Leo smiled as he began to hang his clothes on the line to dry.

Puna,Hi. June, 2008

THE AGRICULTURAL ADVISOR

The Agricultural Advisor
He don't grow no sea of green
He don't bring us picks or shovels
He just brings the M-16

In the hills above the village
Soldiers' fires burn all night
In the morning comes the slaughter
There is no time to fight

The men and boys
They were lined up
Killed before the village eyes
The women and girls
Then disposed of
Not before you heard their cries

The Agricultural Advisor
He don't plant no corn or peas
He don't bring us picks and shovels
He just brings the M-16

Dedicated to the village of El Mozote.
Puna,HI. 2007

123 DAYS

123 days without a drink
What else are you doing ?
You may stop to think

It's not what I'm doing
It's what I'm not
Don't concern yourself
Don't give it a thought

I have "Life Reviews" everyday
I think about who left
What I've done
How many I drove away

Some of you no longer care
If I live or die
What matter' most to me
Is how hard it is, to try


I wrote this 4 days ago. In some of my writing you will find some of my behaviour abhorrent and/or inappropriate . I still think some of the pieces are good, or at least, I like them. I am not the same person I was when I wrote some of the earlier pieces. Without getting into it, I'm just trying to do the right thing. I still have chronic bouts of depression and insomnia. I choose not to take meds. This may not be the correct choice for everyone, but I feel it is the best one for me. I want to FEEL. Without the pain, I can not grow, and I can not write.

Puna, HI. Aug. 2008

Thursday, August 21, 2008

See Ya... In a Bit

When she left, I cried all the way to Kapaa. I saved her voice on my cell phone because she may never call again. She says I'm becoming too "Attached." " I'd rather you not see me off at the airport", she states. "But I've found a fragrant lei for your trip", I subtly plead. "Why can't we say goodbye?", I ask. She says nothing as tears well up in her eyes. The sun is getting low on the horizon, leaving a glowing gold streak across the water. We sit together on a cliff above a beautiful bay. I slowly turn towards the water to watch the embryonic beginning of a new winter swell. I wipe a tear making it's way out from under my sunglasses. I tell myself , she needs to be certain. Middle ground is wasted ground. The pain in my shoulder is beyond words. It takes me to a place where I lose myself. She knows how to treat it , but she will be gone. I haven't a tub to soak in to ease the pain. Don't remember the last time I had a hot shower. Sleeping in my car and taking cold showers at the harbor, have further aggravated the injury. Soon I'll have to go to work, grimace behind a plastic smile, cry behind my sunglasses, and give the illusion of happiness, although my heart aches for someone who won't be here, and I may never see again.

Kaua'i. 1999

HEARTBEAT

Rare are those moments
Words cannot describe
Feelings
That lay deep inside

When I see her
On the beach
Naked
Yet far from my reach

The sunset shimmering
In her eyes
The soft curves
Of her lovely thighs

How can I
Make her see
She's not just another
Conquest for me

I've been searching for
A lady fair
Into my face
Blows a strand
Of her hair

Alas it is she
Who must choose
If I'm to win
Or to lose

I may never
Feel her heat
But will always remember the feel
Of her
Heart beat

Kaua'i. 1998

PLEASE, DON'T TAKE THIS PERSONALLY

Structure...I've succeeded in keeping it out of my life. I see no point of incorporating it into my writing. Synchronicity, random assemblies of people, places, and things have an inherent order of their own. This is what I prefer to experience. Paragraphs and punctuation do not seem necessary to express thoughts. To suddenly hear a song I've been thinking of, or to be surprised by a visit, or a letter from a friend for me, are the origins of true joy. I haven't a need for a home mortgage, a steady income, an IRA, or a bigger boat to catch the few remaining fish. Saving money today will not ensure a better tomorrow. Our mortality is tenuous , at best. Happiness is created, not purchased. I may not find what I want in the trash can, but odds are, I'll find what I need. After all, this is America, Throw it out and buy a new one. Remember, you don't have to eat it all...or do you? Presently, I am a voluntarily simplistic, opportunistic feeder. I don't need a computer to be connected to the world, my DNA ensures that I am. The Mcnugget generation spiraled toward the end of the millennium touting fear-based Armeggedonomics. Fear not, this is just another opportunity to consume. Party on dude !!!.The sun is free not to mention gravity, still we pay for energy. All optical networks, satellites and palm pilots, bigger, faster, shiny shit is the therapy we use for accepting and enjoying a miserable situation. The frequency of so called strokes of genius seems to be increasing. Why not give that homeless person a dollar instead of a dime. Interspersed between my headaches, and my sticky, sweaty, sleepless nights, are the indelibly ingrained images of the past being re-lived in the future. Binary pulses of light do not create community. I have yet to see the software that will grow lettuce. I am bored by all this neo-futuristic , techno existentialism. NASA has the ultra-light battery technology. Spire corporation has indium doped highly efficient photovoltaic panels. This is important. The multi-colored, glow in the dark, scratch and sniff virtual biosphere put in front of us to lap up is a diversion. Lycra and nylon clad hominids defecate on and defile the memories of saints like TESLA and BUCKMINSTER FULLER. They and some others led the drooling, slack-jawed indentured servants out of the technological badlands and pointed them towards the glimmer of the global village. After all, who first thought of wireless transmission of energy ? Despite the fact that I haven't the funds to purchase a correction tape for this borrowed typewriter, and my poor diet is causing my synapses to randomly misfire, I am consoled by my roommates' granddaughter choosing to play her ukulele, rather than with her laptop.


Kaua'i. 1999

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

TWILIGHT

Listening to "Corcovado"
While drinking tea
Try to drift into
That warm, narcotic sea

This day has been depressing
Taking strength beyond my will
Not to drink
I've been trying different techniques
To change the way I think

No sense in her calling me again
What more is there to say ?
She's already said " I love you"
Twice in the last 3 days

Perhaps she'll feel alone, and
Simply want to chat
I'm all talked out, yet sometimes
I'm yearning to get back

When in my hands
I'll feel her face
Then in her eyes
I'll see me ...briefly
What my soul yearns to feel again is...
Love' Lucidity

Puna, Hawaii. 2000

These Days

These days, I use my tea bags 2 or 3 times
I stop to pick up every penny
And hope for a dime
Cry, when I listen to Beethoven
And wish the feral cat
Would visit more often

I often dream
of a like minded mate
I wonder if being alone
will end up being
My fate

I've come back to an island
Thinking , this may be home
Yet in my heart
There's a strong urge to roam

This rain won't let up
It makes my mind weak
Although it provides
More time for tea to steep

I've cut my hair
She liked it long
I doubt we'll ever listen
Again together
To Ludwig Van

Puna, Hawaii. 2000

GONE, AGAIN

I water the plants I gave to her
When she was here
I feel better until
I run across a strand of her hair

We had magnificent dreams
Of an Apothecary, and Alchemy
They all seem so ludicrous
The third day after she's left me

I erased her voice message
So I won't hear her voice , or her sound
I take care of the seeds , poking out of the ground
I drove her away , I didn't think she cared
As I write this
I see another strand
Of her hair

I've gotten rid of the pictures she left
Her number on the back
She stands in front of oozing, red , lava
Next to it , some has dried black

We had gone to watch the lava
Pour into the sea
I don't want to remember the pain
She had caused me

Just when I begin
Not to care
I find another strand
Of uniquely textured hair
Perhaps it's time to vacuum the house


Puna, Hawaii. 2000

9-5

I visited
Their 9-5 life
Nest in the hills
He drinks his vodka tonics
She eats
1 milligram blue pills

Myopic, cubicle taskmasters
Dictate his mundane life
While an abusive , sexist, pig
Makes passes at his wife

At home they entertain
And enjoy their
Shiny new shit
They seem to have it all
What more to life
Is there than this ?

Studio City, California. 2003

A Certain...... Feeling

Sleepless nights
Walking, counting
Blood stains on the sidewalk
Psychotic, self-inflicted murmuring
Malaise filled rapid transit
Deeply risking it all
Again and again and again
So boredom won't set in

A 3:00 A.M. sunrise in Alaska
Drunken stumbling
The few remaining coins......jingling
Eating value meals
In a benzodiazepine haze
Watching my fingernails grow
Waiting for ......HER

Wasting away in the library
Reading, sleeping, drinking
Beer in the toilet

The boats keep moving in the harbor
Standing, I see the sunrise
Burning the horizon......AGAIN......

Kaua'i . 1998

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

3:30 P.M

An hour before work
It's a job that I hate
I'll work all night and think about her
I'll know I'll be up late

I'm drinkin' coffee in a cyber cafe'
Reading poems she sent me
That arrived yesterday

The sax is blowin'
Behind a cool winters' wind
I'm thinkin' what ifs
And what coulda beens

Last time I saw her
Was in '95
So many room service trays
All strewn aside

That night
I was drinkin' quite hard
The last thing I saw
Was her , playin' guitar


South Beach, Florida. Dec. 2000

HOPE

I can take the material things of my life
To the dump in just one run
I can end my unnecessary Life
Without procuring a gun

What's the use in continuing to write ?
So much better are my predecessors
What's the use in looking for Love ?
I've seen the dead and bloated
Of this Third Dimensional Inferno

I live in modern times
There are no cattle rustlers
The types of thieves these days
Are emotion hustlers

Still, young boys love young girls
Some men bring home to their wives
A poem, some flowers, or a pearl
But to see a child playing in the wind
Gives me HOPE eternal


Kaua'i. 1999

NOTHING

No thoughts left
To think to
No place left
To run to
No place left
To turn to
No one left
To talk to
Nothing left
To count on
No safe place
To hide
No cars left
To drive
No bikes left
To ride
Too far To
Walk out
And where
Would I go ?
Now Daath awaits
In Mexico
No coin left
To pay the bills
I am sick
But I ain't ill
Behind me are
The wild hills
The sunlight races
Toward the void
The darkness appears
It makes no noise
I can not move
I am surrounded
Spun and shaky
Barely grounded
I feel light
A bit transparent
I feel electric
It is inherent
I sit and wait
For the setting sun
It is sad
And at the same time
Fun
I close my eyes
And I see red
Nothing left
To say
For me it is
The End of Days


Topanga Canyon. Sept. 2007

JUST US THREE

It was while I was eating yogurt
Under the Lychee tree
Perusing again the photographs
You had sent to me

I had a sudden inclination to turn them over
Tears welled up in my eyes
Remembering joyful times gone by
High, fly, and laugh 'til ya cry times

Keeping them company
Is the hope
Of sitting with you and your Bro
And reminisce of days gone by
Speak of dreams... and
Aspirations for our lives

At present, a dream come true for me
Would be dining out
Just us 3
Perhaps
In Waikiki

Puna. 2001

Paper and Pen

Ext. Panama. Feb. 2001 Midday. 2 men laying in hammocks under a small palapa. Cafe del Mar cd plays softly in the background.

Daniel: Sir... we have to surf again......tomorrow
E: Yes Daniel, we are the guides...remember ?
Daniel: Please wake me up.........in the morning



How can you write without a box made of plastic
Containing chips of sand
How can you write without a box
Containing in it , electronic pulses
At your fingertips command

How can you write
Without this box
They could not comprehend
Luckily, I had nearby
Some Paper and a Pen


Fala mi irmao !!!

Monday, August 18, 2008

Summer Fading

The Death of Winter awoke today
I feel it's chill in the air
The light flees, darkness comes
Grey grows, The Summer Mother' hair

Soon the Equinox will come
And hasten the march
Of the setting Sun
Then the Winter rain will pour
Just as all the years before

Meters of it , I once could stand
Stronger, with purpose,
Whence was I a younger man
Passing Winter Solstice
Will be no cinch,
I feel I'll drown
In the first inch

Sober, alone
With just my thoughts
I'll watch this Winter
On calender and clock

While slowly I'll feel The Demons itch
I'll huddle by the fire, trying not to scratch
Watching green grass brown
Death, turning it into thatch

Puna. Aug. 2008