The misadventures of a multifaceted human
Walk down the hall,
voices call for my attention
Fellow the sound of the voices to a corner.
startled by a mirror
Surrounded. Framed pictures of me on shelves.
All eyes on me.
“Well, I’ll be damn!”
“So, this is who I am”
said simultaneously
I smile
Take out my cellphone
Snap a selfie with my selfies
walk out the door to start my day
Sun brighten
A chicken spins around on a carousel
with unquestionable joy.
Round and round it goes.
heat radiate over its skin.
It spins near vegetable patch and rice field.
In a window from a distance,
Someone look out. Intrigued.
they survey the area.
Chicken doesn’t know what to do.
Just sits back and enjoys the ride.
Ding.
Microwave chimes.
open the door.
pull out the TV dinner.
Stir together the chicken, rice and vegetables. Punch in 2 more minutes.
This will be the final ride.
I moved from Stockton to Sacramento. I have been living in a 4 bedroom house in south Sacramento for 2 1/2 years. I rented a child size room with 2 windows. The house had several problems. It was definitely a project home. It was not welcoming. People could see that I was unhappy with my living situation but, I maintain and kept myself busy doing open mics and going to work. Then one day, my friend knew a gentleman who had a room to rent. I checked it out and liked one Few days later, he gave me an offer and I accept it. I was excited but skeptical.
All the drama in downtown Sacramento continued and I did not want to be caught in that. Yet, I spend a lot of time downtown and know most of the area. So the opportunity was right. I have giving my rent check with deposit. Couple days later, I was downtown waiting for the start time of a poetry show. So, I went to the new apartment and sat relaxed. So relaxed, I almost missed the show. My soul needed this move and I am glad it happened.
Tree in dry ground wilts
Rain clouds come and rain soaks the soil
Moist soil happy tree.
Feel that!
Feel that pulse beat.
It is a nerve
an idea forms & transports
from the brain to mouth.
During its journey,
letters compile
words fall to the lips
spray to fertile ground
swing my head to give them distance.
They ride down virgin ear lobes
ignite eargasm down the canal.
Become letters then ideas
to a new brain
Home Sweet Home.
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.
Let’s have sushi
She shouts with excitement
My mind ponders the notion
Okay, let’s do it
Curiously, she asked;
What do you like?
I am not sure
I don’t eat a lot of it.
Well, let’s try some
Okay. Poof!
dishes appear
Dragon, & Tiger
Each roll decked with
vegetables, rice, meat, peppers, & fruit
rolled up with a seaweed wrap
Eat one, pass; eat one, pass.
design with color and flavor
An artisan masterpieces
We raise our chopsticks
Kanpai
Our Selections; strategic
Power plays; epic
Chess pieces for dinner
A pacific rim commotion
Rook takes queen
send them passed the lips
Storm my mouth castle
Godzilla of flavors rain down on my tastes buds people
Destroy my palette dynasty
Fight my tongue shogun
Drum of tears and sweats
Pour from my pores
My face: a kabuki mask
The demon, shogun, clown, crying baby.
My anime eye envision Geisha
With Wasabi swords slice my senses swiftly
Touch, taste, sight, sound, smell
Separate sequentially.
Kanryo
We set our chopsticks down
She look at me and smile
Says something in Japanese
Grabs my hand and we sprint into the night.
silhouetted shadows surface swiftly
We wisp between stopped cars.
Damn you, gaijin
Gaijin? Shit.
I’m a ninja.
Into the alley, ascending steps.
We stand on Mount Fuji
Apartments
Her presence opens the door
And a fog of Smoke greets us
She giggles and disappears into the fog
I follow.
Dazed and confused
judo thrown onto a bed.
I lay down bewildered
Until the smoke clear
She appears
Naked
in front of the bed
With Wasabi and sake
She said,
Sushi?
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?
Translated by me:
Lying on his side, with an uncomfortable elbow resting between the cement and his head, he lies on his back asleep. Knees bent, feet against his behind, huge belly to the sky, mouth opened, nose flat.
This is the work of 2 or 3 bottles.
If he were marble, he would he would be displayed in museums in Rome, London and Paris as an example of Hellenistic art. Plus, the flies wouldn’t bother him.
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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!
Res Wonderland 