27 March, 2012

Loony Tunes

Abstracted, primarily-colored beasts
wander around Seville as barbers,
playing sonatas in front of adoring fans,
challenging each other in hard deserts,
and forming monopolies with ACME.

These players, mammalian and avian alike,
nose-dive into cups of water and falter
between confidences and friendships
looking at their own ineptitudes with romance
with frenzy and without apology.

They dance to ballets and ancient rhapsodies,
defying scientific laws without acknowledgement
and insensitive to each others violences and injustice,
while wonder is absent from their lives of absurdity.
These colorful beasts remain jovial and patient.

26 March, 2012


Potatoes are great because of their omniscience.
They can distill pain and rupture safe diets
maintaining their starchy, stubborn disguises.
Without oil, spice, or marinade, these tubers seem
dull and lifeless, incapable of creativity, and senseless.
However, their unblinking eyes and fibrous skins
increase malleability and ubiquitous delights.

25 March, 2012

Frustration Haiku

Truths set to rhythm
pile like bricks, weighted and coarse.
One walks, falls, falters.

24 March, 2012

Si Uno se Pone a Pensar

Si uno se pone a pensar,
sin el alboroto y frenesí del amor, de la pasión, de la nostalgia,
los sabores no se sienten tan fuerte.

Mesclando color y olor,
en el pensamiento del alma, con ciencia en lugar de emoción,
trae una combinación gris, pero lógica.

El corazón, roto por uso y tiempo,
no deja de respirar, estirarse, cantar, y desear lo que no tiene,
pero su lujuria ya no grita ni llora.

Mas precisos son los pulmones, delicados
y ciertamente educados para seguir adelante si preocuparse
del pasado que a causado tanto esfuerzo.

El frenesí del amor
es embriagador, confundiendo a los cinco sentidos para dejarlos
sueltos y sin dirección practica.

Si uno se pone a pensar,
usando el musculo del cráneo en lugar del pecho, seguramente
la respuestas son claras, dando calma.

23 March, 2012

The Toddler

Racing around the room with unlikely grace,
he trains himself in breath-taking locomotion.

Once under the hot sun of the western front,
his foes are met with determination and resilience.

Cautiously and with great bipedal force, his motion
appears drunk but innately deliberate.

No spirit or smoke enters his small, malleable frame,
yet his balance is clumsy at first, and accidental.

With legs far apart, ready for a saloon-brawl or shoot-out,
his practice leads him to bruise and exhaustion.

Whether barefoot or covered in metal spurs,
he toddles and uses his previously unknown kinetic mass.

At high noon, he crawls into a sleepy, dusty corner,
puts up his canteen of water, and rests from his adventures.

22 March, 2012


The senses are shaken and teased
with limber, sensual tilts on an axis.
The sleep-deprived become lethargic
and those who are rested, somnambulists.
Fabrics meant to work with wind are
uncreased and unfolded and draped.
Emotions are overstimulated and
libidos are underappreciated.
Suddenly, the need to regurgitate and move
and bounce and scream and travel is severe.
Even the trees seem to want to dance
as the untimely shift in weight makes the Earth glow.
Energies, so carefully plotted by graphs,
ebb and flow with the moon and the tide.
The rhythms so carefully and honestly ignored
cannot rest with such mercurial shifts.

21 March, 2012

Theorems Set to Vowels: 30(+) Days of Poetry and Prose

The annual challenge of writing one poem per day for the entire month of April is upon me.

First begun in 2010 when living with my esposa querida, in the city of Queretaro, Mexico, it has set fuel to my writing and turned me into some sort of poet. This is strange, since I don't actually like much poetry (except for Neruda, but that's obvious).

This year I will be starting early (today) and continuing through the month of April. I will be alternating between poetry and prose (which will hopefully jump-start my latest short story that has been collecting dust for over a year).

"Theorems Set to Vowels" is the third installation of public writing composed within the parameters of my initial challenge of poetry. Make sure to check in daily for feasts of words that may or may not come together as perfectly as could be. Below is the poem to start me off:

Theorems Set to Vowels

Proven and accepted, the theorems swim through
our notebooks and memories, stating facts.

Theorems have no room for nostalgia, for feelings
of hope or anger or desperation.

Involving formulas and propositions, these statements
are calculated adventures set to controlled variables.

Without the unknowns to prove what is innately understood,
the theorems lose their spark and no longer have purpose.

20 March, 2012

The Voiced

With compartments entwined with volumed memory
and repetition, the voiced eagerly move through.

Relentless in search for sour truths and honest reactions,
the voiced use repetition as force and for therapy.

Waves of sound put on display what the organs remember,
and the voiced move slowly to edit these sadnesses.

Due to conspicuous directness and defensive humor,
the voiced despair and disconnect, uncalmed and angered.

The compartments do not expand but the memories grow,
and the reasons for silence grow within the voiced’s hearts.

18 March, 2012


Carrots are great because of their relation to blood
and their need to stay underground.
They root within eyes and hearts to perpetuate
health, calm, and loud cracking sounds of glee,
loved by furry creatures and bipeds alike.
They are loving and loved, spilling bright orange hues
onto the surface and adorning tastes with sweet strengths.

Canciones y Bailes

La conexión causa ansiedad y desesperación,
aunque no hay promesas ni respuestas.

Nosotros, los dos, manejamos nuestra poesía
con formalidad y respeto.

Con calma y paciencia, se podrá usar nuestro baile
para procesar energía y magnetismo.


Stravinksky’s rite touches spines
and ear canals, laced with strings.

It describes the sensation we all
begin to feel when the Earth springs.

Flowers fall open, deep and perfumed
like magical, ancient, treasure chests.

Children bounce out, chilly and skinny,
like explorers on the side of a mountain.

Birds build fast, meager and attentive,
like armies of hypnotized carpenters.

The rite carries with it the hum of the Sun,
Showing how we awaken and dust Winter off.

The Orbit

Instead of orbiting
‘round some celestial body
(probably one shiny and large)
I wish to have my
own gravitational pull.

Let the orbs created
by time and gods
sent hurtling through space,
kinetically and magnetically,
encircle my space.

Chasing adventures and connection
with revolutions and rotations
left me dizzy and bored,
instead of feeling scientific
and emotional acceptance.

Instead of orbiting
‘round a history that crashed
(although epic and poetic)
I wish to sit quietly and
watch new comets circle closely.

El Acuario

Que bonito
Acuario, con sus burbujas
y su alegría,
costándonos tiempo y plata.

Que precioso
Acuario, con mis memorias
de infancia,
enseñándonos lo que olvidamos.
Que inmenso
Acuario, con sus animales
y su agua,
mostrándonos el poder del mar.

Que bonito
Acuario, con su belleza
y su esfuerzo,
arropándonos con vida natural.

11 March, 2012


Avocadoes are great because they look like rocks
and can trick one into thinking they are full meals.
Though fruited, they sit apart from their compatriots,
not listening but combining freely and cohesively with all,
centering their frustration into their core.
They are balanced, strong but delicate foot soldiers,
ready to share their color and calorie with all.

On a Day Like Today

On a day like today,
with less daylight
and just as much to do,
it’s easy to feel disjointed, tired, rushed.

On a day like today,
with more temperature
and less remorse,
it’s easy to smile excessively, and dance.

On a day like today,
with good company
and ignored responsibility,
it’s easy to forget, put off, skip over.

On a day like today,
with managed expectations
and unmanaged desires,
it’s easy to sleep better, longer, deeper.

Sin Provocacion

La química nos manda y demanda,
exigiendo respeto y paciencia.

Su poder no se puede negar.
Con la fuerza de un imán, los dirige.

Lo físico se mescla con lo metafórico,
y la conexión y reacción produce energía.

Una reunión por algo químico genera
calor, alegría, y esperanza.


There were several of them,
all hungry for control and contraband,
without apology or shame.

The duo was public, sepia, murderous.
Their heritage shown through their voices
and their tailored clothes mislead.

The warrior was proud, metallic, wondering.
His voice carried all the gunpowder needed
to raise an army around him.

The sleekly silhouetted shark sat
following the medley of outsiders,
keeping the beat and fending off trouble.

La chola spiced and shouted and spun,
her winged eyes and teased hair off-set
her razor-blade soul and candid tongue.

The Russian, rambunctious and unprompted,
set the standard for rough talk and large stature,
simply dressed and undone.

The Miami millionaire lounged in beach-gleamed
gold, counting riches between countries
and absorbing his product with his customers.

The bandit from the West kept mystery with her.
Eyes of kohl behind a darkened mask
kept her suitors at bay and her enemies afraid.

There were several of them,
all branded by each other and themselves,
joined together by discord and communality.

04 March, 2012

El Gaucho

Joven, primoroso, y observante
con ojos del mar y la frente obscura,
puede atreverse de noche
pero no de dia.

Su cara, clara y transparente,
mantiene sus emociones a la distancia
sin reconocimiento de la memoria
de su pasion y ardor.

Se mantiene con silencio y movimiento,
trabajando y vagando sin
pretencion y con deseo de
mejorar la vida con accion.


I want to join a gang
that uses flashy dances
and fine-toothed combs
to grease back our
jet-black hair into a careful style.

The initiation would consist
of skill-sets like smoke-signals,
cherry-pit spitting, and
arch nemesis knuckle sandwich-making
to weed out the weak.

Our weapons might frighten
the outsiders away
with our chain-linked jewelry
and loosely interpreted
sling-shot ammo.

The gang colors won’t
match each other, but we’ll
probably use capes or sneakers
or at least some sort of decoder ring
to tell us apart from the rest.

I want to join a gang
that breaks into doo-wop
and still can throw a right hook
when the going gets tough
in order to threaten and entertain.

Veracruz, Summer, Love, Guitar

Veracruz attempts to bewitch you
(and me)
with its heat-stroke and marimba-charm.

Summer covers us all with solace
(and sweat)
with its vitamin-glow and arrogance.

Love curls your toes and pulls my hair
(and heartstrings)
with its nuanced dance and careful aim.

Guitar screams to try and seduce me
(and you )
with its metal voice and frenzied soul.

Sunday Evening, Basking in the Glow of February's End

The day begins by shouting and knocking
at the wooden door that separates out from in.

It’s grey out, but quiet, and the temperature
is still and quiet also, matching the sky’s hue.

She’s very tired, dizzy and upset from evening’s end,
and empty egg cartons, and bruised fruits.

The day continues to vibrate, poking along
at a steady pace, reminding her of patterns.

She experiences many emotions, pulling at her
face that is still caked with exhaustion and calm.

Instead of normal music and focus on lists of chores,
balance is achieved by plastic blocks and silent peace.

The day intends to end with subtlety and class,
leaving behind crumbs of memory that invite warmth.

Slam Poetry

slamming beated words
slung over heavy hearts,
are earnest and bright.

using souled rhythm
written and boiled over,
are frenzied and loud.

caking solid walls
overly processed and bare,
are strong and soiled.