Archive for March, 2009|Monthly archive page


Mindsets change like sleeping volcanoes, a sudden nudge wakes the beast from its slumber. See the smog drizzle the sky in black, then watch the ash rain clog your lungs like phlegm. Lava courses through its veins, and its not afraid to destroy all whom invade its personal space. It has no friends, and it doesn’t want any.



Smoke shadows lungs in thick phlegm. Breath comes hard against the esophagus with a rough cough. A nose runs busy in the night. Sleep breaks half past four. Eyes search LEDs for time. Sheep hit the fence instead of jumping. Rolls of paper towel crumple against nostrils which become one way exits. The man works, sick in bed.


The sweeping wind gathered at the cliff’s edge and held a man leaning into it up. The wind didn’t let up, so he stayed and looked upon the foreign cliffs. As he gazed, the aging wind gave its life away, and the man went tumbling down. His travel took his now lifeless body down and down and splashed.


The pollen sprinkles on the plants. Inhaled into our noses, this becomes a deadly scenario. First, a sniffle or two. Then, the faucets of snot drip like waterfalls down the incline of one’s face. After prolonged exposure with this yellow road, minds jumble with lovesick thoughts. This is only due to the disease, one must not fall inside!


He didn’t see their transparent limbs, but he knew in his skin that ghosts were around. Though the cool change of autumn had come to summer’s death, this breezy breath held a chill uncommon for even winter. The blood within his veins slowed its movement, and his shaking called forth the woman. She stayed, looking for her children.


A crafted mission sends a pilot far into the vast blue, over foreign waters and through enemy territory. His metal cage surrounds him like a bird, and he lusts to be free with any means necessary. A layer of common promise guides him forth with earnest expectations for a world beyond. His reactive wit crashes his ship willingly.


Thermonuclear Spartans breathe out radiation from mistakes made in genetic altering. They ride orange vespas and use vehicular splendor to speed across time and space. Their voices join as one to form the Venus Triumphant, rising beauty as plants from wastelands. A wink softens depression, and a touch spreads their unwanted disease. They disappear to new lands, tomorrow.

Room 6-G

The windows spread apart in equal distances, and each lead to the same room. What goes on in those rooms doesn’t leave the comfort of the bed. None is seen but for the visitors that remember room 6-G which had no lamp nor light, no window nor doorknob. They remember, but nobody sees their bodies after that.


Down in the mind, with a box in the dirt, the words are created and strung in a rhyme. But, nothing is meant and nothing is seen except the spatters of a chatter that they ink in green. No sense is made nor dollars and dimes, but the mind is devoured by distracting climbs for a few hours.


I come from another land filled with pickle tacos and poetical ninjas. I am nothing but a sentence on the long-winded Ulysses of life. We rejoice in the world of the words, and the words of the world represent us dearly. Surprisingly, as with all life forms in my land, I have nothing to say to you.