Ode to my life (Day 7)

I was born a son that became a brother.
A soldier who became a College graduate; twice
a boyfriend/lover that turn into a father; twice.
But missed the role of husband; shame.


a high school basketball player(center); 1 season
Tae Kwon Do student(Blue Belt); fought a Korean boxer and got silver.
wrestling champion (bronze); never got the medal they owed me.

5k color runner(twice); never ran a marathon.


When I was young I like poetry but, it wasn’t hip-hop.
So, I became an emcee with no DJ.
So, I became a DJ without a studio.
So, I became an engineer but they needed music.
So, I became a producer but didn’t play an instrument.
So, I became a musician
and threw it all away to be a poet.

The Office (Day 6)

Pass beyond a security door and enter large room to meet the time clock. The clock is a Nazi but that is okay, I have to punch it daily. I sit in a 4X5 cubic space in the center of the room. The enclosure has no window to eliminate the distraction of scenery and time. Pictures of beaches fill Bob’s cubicle wall but time carry a knife and comes by every hour to prick our necks. A reminder that our lives lost time. Time kills.

Gluten-free Jeanine silently finishes the last danish from the coffee table. This room would be a quiet place if, not for the tap, tap, tapping on the keyboards.

I monitor the monitors monitoring me. An audiovisual stand-off. As artificial lighting overhead illuminates. Jane tolerates a migraine daily. My calendar is my conscience that ponders what I ponder: garbage in – garbage out.

Dave got fired yesterday. Vultures circle his unmanned desk. I got dibs on the multi-colored markers.

From the break room, the smell of burnt popcorn wafts. It is the perfume of the damned. I scrap together six coins to pay the dealer’s new price: A-3, Snicker bar, please. Office refrigerator stores memories of employees long gone. Passive aggressive notes mark our slow descent into hell. Keep your hands off my sandwich – Phil. Boss brings her special creamer to work and signs her name on it. A sharpie will not stop me. I dump half in the sink and leave a thank you note from Phil.

I trick myself everyday by saying I belong here and this is what I deserve. My therapist says I’m in an abusive relationship with my job.

Yesterday, there was a training video about office shooters. Not sure, if it was prevention or tutorial. Will see how the next evaluation goes?

The Protest at Golden One Center(Napowrimo day 2)

I protest for the wrongs that have been done.
The law does not protect its citizens.
Sacramento allow police to kill the unarm.
Why do you ignore the body count?
SAY THEIR NAMES!
Stop the killings!
SAY THEIR NAMES!


HOW DARE YOU!
How dare you block the entrances!
I paid to watch the Kings’ game!
Y’all are in my way!
What did I do to you?
I did not kill them.
Protest at the police station!
Not the Arena!
DAMMIT!

Good deed

Who enjoys a good deed? Me. Well, that depends. I was waiting at the bus stop near Natomas marketplace. I got a bag of full of tacos and a burrito. A definite Taco Tuesday entree. After eating, people started appearing at the stop to wait for the bus also. Traffic was busy and moving. Drivers racing to get to the freeway or marketplace.
Suddenly, a SUV broke down in the far left lane next to the island. The driver was waiting for the red traffic light. When the light changed green, all the cars passed the starting line except the SUV. It stalled and the driver was scared. She turned on her hazard light and waited. In a dangerous area, car approached with a sudden stop and carefully went around the stalled SUV. I evaluated the situation. I knew I couldn’t push it myself, so I waited and viewed the situation. The bus was late and the SUV was stuck in the left lane. What do I do?

Then a guy got off the bench and started to walk over.
I asked as he passes me: are you going over to help?
“Yep!” He said confidently.
“Cool, let go.” I say with assurance.

We run into traffic, with our backpacks on, to the SUV. He lets the woman driver know we are here to help. I get behind the SUV and start to push. She hasn’t release the emergency brake yet. He commands her to release the brake. She releases the brake. The SUV starts to move. There is no traffic so we are to clear to cut across the street.

I assumed she would turn right towards the side entrance into marketplace. But she didn’t. She aims for the main entrance. The downhill makes the SUV easy and fast to move. But we reach the bottom and the weight of the Suv starts to reveal itself. This thing is heavy. My legs are spazz and heart races. She takes right into the main entrance with an elevation that I have never noticed before. This SUV is heavy. We struggle to push this SUV to safety while the bus has arrived, has picked up the passengers at the stop, and leaves.
‎I groan: “she better appreciate this.”
‎as we pushed on the cobblestone. She maneuver to the gas station. My lungs are trying to catch a breath. When did a good deed turn into a full body work out?

“Hey. good job. Name’s Josh!” He said between breath.
“CharRon.” I said, exhaling.

The lady driver jumps out and thanks her rescuers.

“Thank you, Thank you!” She shouts.
“No problem. You take care, ma’am.” I say with a tired smile.
Josh and I walk back to the Bus stop. We talk about our appreciation for each other. He pulls out two bottles of water from his backpack and passes me one. I crack my open the bottle cap and take a swig. We both sit on the bench exhausted. Both smiling as we wait for the next bus.

So to all those about to do a good deed, tell them the whole plan or you, too, will be pushing heavy objects uphill.

Good deeds need people
Work for soul. Love for creatures.
Angel’s feathers earned

Iambic: 6 months as a publisher

I created and published a local literary zine / guide book in Sacramento that has been in circulation for six months. It is called Iambic. Click here to head over to the Iambic Tab. I never thought I would be a magazine publisher but here is why I did it. This article below was added to Iambic issue 6:


Downtown Sacramento offers dozen of venues for art events. Second Saturday just shows a glimpse of it. On any given day, you can find visual arts, music, comedy, burlesques, and theater plays.

There is also large poetry community. I have been part of Sacramento poetry for the past two years. I entered the scene with little knowledge of the scope of poetry in Sacramento. Over the past two years, I have dedicated time and energy to seeking out as many poetry forums as I can find. I visited over a dozen venues and special events, met hundreds of poets in the area who regularly perform and have even worked with several on projects. What became apparent was that Sacramento lacked an up-to-date resource where people can seek out events, venues, coaches, and information about the Sacramento poetry scene. I looked at what had been established and decided that a zine would be appropriate for these three simple factors:

  1. Eskimo Pie website is online but it is not maintained anymore.

When I moved to Sacramento from Stockton in October 2015, I checked the Eskimo pie website (www.eskimopie.net). It offered a calendar for open mic venues and poetry events in the Central Valley community. It was established by Rebecca Morrison, well known poet in the Sacramento poetry community.  I had the fortune to meet Rebecca during her personal trip back to the states. The site became a great blueprint to model sections in Iambic.

  1. Display unknown people’s poetry, visual arts and short stories.

I learn one of the big caveats in literary magazines is that any work posted on social media is considered to be published. Poets and writers want to present their work to the masses but Industry wants to be the first to do it. Poets and writers early in their careers need small publications looking for new and unique works to feature them. Iambic offers a no-cost way to submit your work for consideration for publication. We publish frequently and our scope is very broad. I also created a “Youth Poet” section which feature poets less than 25 years of age.

  1. Be a guide to a large poetry community

I was alone when I moved to Sacramento.  I got a position at The Art institute, and was living with roommates.  My friend circle was bleak. I needed to find an activity to distract me from this. I discovered the Sacramento Poetry Center. I went to an open mic and was interested with poetry again.  So, I asked a few poets about other venues and they directed me to them.  So, I checked out all the open mic venues in the area and it became a habit. I started participating in open mics and studying to be a poet and spoken word artist. But, I notice that not all poets go to every open mic venue or workshop in town regularly.  Poets started noticing and asking me about different venues.  I would give them my analysis and I became known as a circuit poet.

Conclusion

I created Iambic to serve my poetry community as a guide since; there are a variety of venues for patrons and workshops for poets to work on their craft. But, it was also to make outsiders aware that a poetry scene exists. So, I have been publishing Iambic for 6 months. Here is to another successful six months!

Playing solo(mentality)

Say What?

I was surprised to find out that masturbation month was celebrated in May. An odd rabbit hole to fall into. In the past, it occurred to me how ashamed I felt about the act.  I never wanted to catch my kids or vise-versa doing it. It was a struggle to understand that masturbation is normal.  We all should educate ourselves(with our partners) about masturbation to destroy the taboo in society.  The more we understand it, the better we will feel about it. But, what about mental masturbation?

Continue reading “Playing solo(mentality)”

Lone Writer Online

Cristian wrote a compelling blog post on the lone writer.  It is what 98% of all writers do.  Any writing profession has a person writing alone.  I struggle with this because it is an antisocial state of mind.  I enjoy the emotional release I get when I write but, you are left with a choice: do I let someone read this and give me feedback or do I hide or destroy it?  Unlike speaking aloud, you still have control on what is written and who will see it.

But Read Cristian’s Post below and I bet you will also agree:

“An artist is always alone – if he is an artist.” – Henry Miller Writing is a lonely job, no doubt about it. And no matter how successful you might become, you’re still alone. It’s the inexorable truth of the writer’s condition: you sit at your desk, in an empty room or in the most […]

via A lonely job… — Cristian Mihai

STAR WARS DAY

Happy Star Wars Day, everybody! May the fourth be with you. You think with that gesture it would signal someone not to present a Vulcan salute. But, this is Star wars day: there will be a lot of Carrie Fisher tributes, Star Wars attire are worn in interesting places (I definitely have my eye on a Darth Vader Tie), plus Stars themed memes, joke, art, and videos. This is the day when my daughter goes to school in her Darth Vader costume and her parents are dressed up as her Storm Troopers. We, definitely, left an impression on her teacher when she enter the classroom. So, how do you celebrate?

Here are some Stars Wars Tweet Poem below:

Celebrate National Poetry Month? Why?

Someone ask me why I celebrate national poetry month. I gave them the most copied answer: To celebrate poetry and poets. I have been hyperactived at writing poetry from prompts, read about the veteran poets and different poetry forms, and learned more about publishing and speaking. I even participated in more contests and Poetry slams. I started to feel that this was the time to shed some light on the effects of poetry. I started to research the underground scenes. Guerilla poetry was becoming popular in Sacramento by ZFG. So I started to do video of me performing poetry in public areas. I took the idea of poetry and started to live by it. It became a weird addiction to me.

This is my second year diving into poetry this deep. My tweet poems were starting to get more attention, I performed a few guerilla poems at various public places, I spent more time studying new poems and forms in the various Libraries, I took second place in my monthly Sacramento Poetry Slam, and I pursued to write and blog 30 poems in a month for Napowrimo that I will make into a chapbook. I, even, started a poetry information zine called Iambic for the Sacramento Poetry community.

But I finish reading Jim Behrle’s Article and a question appears: Why do I celebrate national Poetry Month? Am I trying to restore my faith in poetry and shed some light on my own or has society’s abandonment disturbed me? I understand that all poetry is not good poetry. But, we discard poetry like racial harmony in the world. Plus, businesses exploit to sell a lot of poetry books and materials to intrigued patrons this month since, poetry sales are not an ongoing money maker.

Jim Behrle’s Article

Day 25: My Picture Folder

My computer can lose everything except: My Picture folder
Nestled on my desktop screen,
My Pictures folder is my little large gallery.
A gallery of a scattered past:

My father’s last photo
My first child’s confused look at a camera
My second child’s confused look at me
My brothers’ nights out
My self-portraits
My self-portraits

You don’t realize how much change
until gleams at your former self.
Face is still there
Blemishes & lines are new.

I become Alice
step into imagery Wonderland
And be lost for hours
Some pictures hurt
Some pictures heal
But a white rabbit will remind me
it’s time.

Closing time to the past once again.
Close the folder & be present once more.