2 AM

Los Angeles Freeway system at 2 AM is everything it was meant to be and everything it is not in the daylight. The wind roars in my open window ears. It’s almost as loud as the music on the stereo of my 10-year-old Honda. It feels a little like freedom but I have often asked myself if I know what true freedom is. For now, I am as close as I need to be..

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Too dark

Like a blood red wolf climbing out of my soul, ears down and hungry. We forgot who we are in the social structure of media. Our nails have been cut and filed but our hearts are still difficult to sooth. The savage beast is in lock down. In the basement of all basements, lifting weights and eating protein powder in the darkest corners of our minds. Waiting, growing stronger and unstoppable. The beast wants love just like you and me. But of course, it is been too long and too distorted. Like a red ball bouncing higher and higher until it becomes the nose of a clown who keeps peculiar things buried under its house. The clown wants love too and it cries as it eats it’s own heart screaming in the torn flesh of confusion.

It is…

I sit in an over lit café on a dark fall night surrounded by the sounds of a Juke box that has not been updated since 1988.

It’s a Time Machine that dances with my veggie burger and fries like old lovers long forgotten.

It’s moments like these when I question everything and nothing equally.

It’s moments like these when I am paralyzed in the perfection of now.

It’s moments like these when the silence is louder than love.

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Carpeted in the wall to wall American dream

The full moon looked down on me against the tropical night.

It’s reflections danced on my jack-o’-lantern mind singing songs written on stolen stationery from a cheap hotel that looked out on a highway with a number long since forgotten.

Deep in the shag of loneliness, carpeted in the wall to wall American dream we sit and contemplate our physical lives that play over and over like a radio station not quite in tune.

Seeing all the answers like smoke rings that shift under the light breeze of refrigerated air.

Get your wings

I sat in a nearly empty wing of the Colorado airport. I saw a small bird flying through the announcements and the artificial light. I wondered how this bird got in here and what she thought of the place. She landed on the short and strangely colored carpeting several arms length in front of me. I looked at the bird and I felt human, more human than I felt in a long time. Then the bird flew away. I think it took part of me with it. Something I no longer needed. I don’t remember what it was.

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Pacific Ocean #7

The waves slapped me like the foot of God.

It was a baptism.

Under the crash of the water the only thing I could hear were the thoughts that rang distant in my head like wolves howling in the hills, love sick and alone.

I laughed in my complete lack of power as I was pushed into the rocky, sandy, bottom.

I reach the shore on hands and knees smiling like a mad monkey stoned on fermented fruit.

I looked up into the light of the sun.

Laying on my back I heard the voices of children.

They seem free.

But not nearly as free as this moment.

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Which Side Are You On?

The slam of the steel door was so loud it created complete silence. In the silence I heard a voice that said, “I’ll be right back” I kicked and screamed and beat the walls and the doors and the lies until I was exhausted. And when I turned around I realize, I was not locked in the cage. I was locked out of the cage.

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A tattooed girl in a leopard skin bikini and a trucker hat lays passed out next to the pool. Her head is turned to the left and her right arm hangs in the blue water. The cup that contained her drink drifts slowly across the pool reflecting California sunshine on a forth of July in America. Today we are free. I look to the sky and smile. The smell of marijuana is in the air and the thoughts in my head are soft like unconditional love.

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Buddha in a Catholic church

I drove the winding yellow flower roads that led to the mystical bear so many had worshiped. I was doing 45 in a 30 mile an hour zone and locals passed me with conservative aggression. I made it to an early morning café and drank hot brown water listening to a man talk of the rising price of cement. I pulled my “America’s #1” baseball hat down over my eyes and sipped the warmth, hiding. I knew all along I would be found out. I can mingle with them but the nose ring is always a giveaway. One of us, not one of us. The large flat screen TV above the fireplace played CNN horror stories and I didn’t care. Even in satisfaction we can find dissatisfaction. Some find satisfaction in dissatisfaction. I sat like a Buddha in a Catholic church. Simple and happy to be… anywhere.ontheroad. Simple and happy to be… anywhere.

Trust in the ghetto

Bob Marley knew growing up in Trench Town (the ghetto) that on the street BMW stood for Break My Windows. So, when he was successful enough he said No, I think BMW stands for Bob Marley and The Wailers and he bought one. He never locked it. Everyone knew it was his car. His windows were never broken.

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