Wednesday, December 25, 2013

The walls gave and in came the wolves


Why the wolves thought of coming to the town instead of just keeping to the forest is still up for debate

Bad luck, or good depending on why side of the debate you’re on

But the fact is they did and the pigs were just not prepared for the onslaught

Well not all the pigs, and the ones that thought they were didn’t have a clue what consequences that came with

The first day the wolves attacked it seemed so random cause it was for the most part

Two wolves, scouts almost that accidentally came upon this little village of pigs minding their own business

The wolves were just as surprised at the pigs, seeing as the pigs never bothered to put out security or any kind of look outs

They have been living there for generations, no one had seen a wolf in longer than they could remember

They were civilized, why would they think of wolves coming to hunt for them

The two scout wolves froze almost, shocked at this entire village full of pork

So much so that it took them a full minute to realize what they were seeing before one of them struck the nearest pig

A thirty something year old pig, the local glass maker, whose father’s father first migrated to this village in his youth

The wolf wasn’t the most precise but he was swift with his claws, it took another whole minute for everyone around to realize what happened

By the time they did one more pig was down, a herder, the second wolf was more swift and he hit the throat like a surgeon

Pandemonium began and the wolves were only able to kill two more before all the pigs were out of sight, in their houses or in hiding

The two wolves stood in the center of the street, each with two kills at their feet, surveying the area

Tiny house made of straw, wood and brick, a park, a few shops, pavement roads leading in four directions

They collected their prey and giving the village one last glance began walking away right where they came from

The pigs waited about an hour or so before they got brave enough to come out of their houses and hiding places

They walked to the center of the street and stood stunned as the saw all the red blotches left behind, the paw prints leading out of town

Then the crying and walling began as the reality of the situation found gravity, it all became very real

Slowly the town began talking and look outs were assigned so that they would have a warning for the next time

The next day the two wolves came back and the look outs were the first to go, the wolves where much more swift this time

They came with a plan and it was simple, grab and go, two each and they were gone

And so it was for the next couple of days, by the end of the week no one was in the streets at all, no security, just dead silence

The entire village appeared abandoned as the pigs hid, they didn’t move, they skipped a breath if any sound was heard

That was what caused things to get worse, when they should have fled they stayed and waited

The two scout wolves came that day, they prowled the village from one end to the other but found no one around

They could smell them in their tiny straw, wood and brick house and they growled and howled outside their doors

The waited and waited but no pig was in sight, no pig came out, the two gathered in the center of the street

Nothing was said between the two, but a conclusion was reached and one of them left the village

The one that stayed began walking around the village, walking to the houses and pushing his nose against the walls

Sometimes he would rest his eyes against the straw and wood house to see in the gaps to see if he could catch something inside

The evening had arrived so the darkness didn’t allow him to see anything but he could sense something

The night came and went no pig in that village slept, they stood silently and stared at each other or at the door

Every so often they would hear the breathing of the wolf, sometimes just the sound his claws made against the pavement as we walked by

There was an hour or two when they relaxed as they heard his breathing shorten as he slept

The few pigs who actually slept were woken to the most horrifying sound as hundreds of claws and growls filled the air

The few pigs who were brave walked towards the doors or the spaces in their wood or straw walls to try and see outside

All who did see outside fell pale white as the realization of what they witnessed became clear

The entire village was overrun by wolves, every corner, every street and just about every house had a wolf walking around

It was around this time that some pigs became making noise, they couldn’t help it, the sheer terror drove them mad

This is where the wolves began their assault, one wolf began scratching the straw wall and slowly it showed progress

Then another wolf joined him and before you know half a dozen were scratching away and it didn’t take long

No, before you know knew they went through the wall and then all you heard was grunts turn to screams and the whole village howled

Then all the straw houses were attacked and then all the straw houses fell, some pigs made a run for it and some didn’t

But none made it very far after that, it didn’t take a half hour for all the straw houses to be over taken

The pigs in the wood houses heard and watched it all while the pigs in brick houses only heard

The brick houses were just four walls, no windows and a door, there were few because they were more expensive to build

As expensive, luxurious comfortable as they were they were now no more than coffins, then screams went right through the walls

About an hour had gone by and finally the commotion had all but ceased, no more screaming, not more sounds of houses falling

Just silence to the pigs, but to the wolves it was feeding time, they each had about two pigs to devour and they did

For hours they fed and when the meat was gone they gnawed on the bones until they got to the marrow

By evening the wolves were just lounging and slowly they began to leave, but not all of them, some stayed behind

The night came and went and the next day came and went and the day after that, the pigs still did not move in their houses

It was on the third day that the growls and the sounds of claws came again, they all gathered in the center of the village

With a growl here and howl there something was decided and 6 of them approached a wood house

They began scratching at the walls just like they did with the straw house, they wood was giving away but just not as easily as the straw

Then 6 turned into a dozen and now the wood was giving away much faster, somewhere across the village the first screams were heard

The wood gave way and the in came the wolves

The next few hours were screams and cracks as houses gave way, but because of the numbers they couldn’t get to every house

A few wood houses survived that day, but not many as you looked around the village, bare bones of what it used to be

And just like before by night they wolves were gone, content and just like before a few stayed behind

Just like before it was days before they came back, some went straight to the wood house that were left and some went for the brick house

This is where they first realized that maybe this is where they stopped, a dozen of them were only making marks on the walls

Hours went by till they stopped, they stopped al together too, because no more wood house were coming down

The wolves were now solely concentrating on the brick houses, to no avail though because their claws just weren’t strong enough

There was a half hour pause on the brick house attack and the for some reason the wolves started up on the wood house again

This time the whole pack was attacking so the wood houses were not lasting more than a few minutes

But this time the grunts didn’t turn to screams like they had been before, this time there was silence after the crack of the wood

The pigs in the brick houses could only collect information from the noise that came in from the space at the bottom of the door

The pigs intently listened to gather information, they heard the cracking of wood, the grunts and then some cries mixed in among the howls

Then some hoof sounds as pigs ran and then thuds as they were struck down by wolves, but no kills though

There was a silence that even the wind thundered over and then the pigs in the brick houses heard the loudest thud

It was against their doors, then hoofs clawing at the door, then grunts, then cries and finally the screaming

The pigs were being pushed against the doors and the pigs tried all they could to get into the house

But the doors were locked tightly, for hours they thuds and hoof scratches continued never letting up

In some of the brick houses you heard the cries from within and those where the houses the wolves pressed hardest on

One door did budge when it was unlocked from within and it was a second before the wolves were in

On the houses that didn’t budge the pigs were doing everything possible not to scream, not to move not to live

They were cowards but not enough to know how to end their own lives, they were simple pigs up to this point

After no more house opened doors then blood began to seep in from the under the door as the wolves killed the pigs and ate them

All the pigs could do was watch as the blood trickled in and formed a puddle at the entrance to their once clean and beautiful house

For the next few days the scratching continued until it was less and less, then less and less howling and claws hit the pavement

Eventually only a few here and there until finally there were none, even then the pigs did not come out

It might have been a month before the first door was opened, some doors never opened

The pigs who did come out came out to see a cemetery with a few brick mausoleums still standing

Some of the ones who ventured out got 3 steps out and did move from there, some just kept walking and never stopped

There were no wolves left, but in those brick houses there were still pigs who did not move or make any noises

In some of those brick houses the wolves never left  

Monday, December 23, 2013

Regarding my life

This is what I call my life, it took a friend to ask me how I was doing to me to inspire to write on here.

I've been living like a king, haven't used my alarm in months, it is as liberating as I had imagined. There is not enough you can say about getting up when your body says it's time, which now that I think about has been surprising. There have been nights where after a good night of drinking till 3 in the morning I still got up at 8 am, compared to my nights when I've gone to bed at 10 pm and got up at 10 am. Both times, fully rested.  It is truly amazing what you find when you walk away from the path you've beaten into a road and that you also cemented.  What used to be to me a scenic route, now new and uncharted had become my one and only way.

That's not the only new thing to my life though, I moved up the chain of command at my current place of employment and it feels good to be in the  high chair, familiar territory but with an unfamiliar mindset. It's not about what I can do for them, no, it's about what am I gonna do for myself. How will this job benefit me? How will it help me pay all those things I've made myself used to pay? No, I'm now about to see how I can move up within but at my own pace, now I see a path as opposed to just the bottom of the hill I climbed.  I'm moving at the right speed and I'm able to keep up, I'm leading as opposed to trying to keep up.  On the  plus side I live less than 2 miles from work and since I'm a hermit, that adds up to about 20 miles a week.  But that does include the mile I drive to the gym.

Speaking of the gym, been thinking about my health and how I just wasn't taking care of myself. Not saying I eat that much better but I drink a little less and exercise twice as much, subtract all the work hours and stress, what you end up with is a big difference.  And like I said a mile from home, can't beat that right.

So my life is good and getting better. I'm still writing got a great new idea for my next book, I wish I could say more but damn it takes a while to fill in those pages to fill a book. But it's not a race and really who the hell wants race a barely-wannabe.  Just gonna keep the party going for as long as I can, by my count that's 23 years.

Any who, I'm good thanks for asking and how are you doing?


Sunday, October 20, 2013

She asked me to update my blog

I've been thinking about my writing, specifically about all the stuff I am purposely leaving unpublished so that there will be some longevity to my work. There are a few easter eggs out there now that I'm carefully placing in the hands of the right people.  I would hate for an editor to just go through my journals and find the ones that I didn't put out on purpose just to ruin my good name, or whatever will be left of it a decade after my demise.  I am ensuring that should there be a publication it will be a good one, one that I endorse now, decades before anyone even thinks of it.  Though by then I hope to have empowered an editor to make the right decisions when going through those journals and making the right word choices to make those poems able to be published.  I'm trust she will make the right decisions for me.  It's something weighing heavily on my mind, because I am not writing enough poems.  I plan a trip in the incoming year to take a few months to just write, I mean to finally live the writers life, no job just writing.  This will be difficult seeing as I like to eat and booze it up, but i'll cross that bridge when I get there, i'll be fine I predict.  YOLO!!

I'm just fucking around, I just thought of that right now, I thought it was funny.  If you didn't it doesn't matter, I giggled.  All of the above is all made up hahahaha.

So it's been over half a year since I left Miami and I finally feel like I've got a groove together, things are looking up.  I have moved up the ladder in my job, not to the top but definitely half way there if not right below the half way mark, but moving up not down.

My writing progresses but I am not putting up as much of my work online as I used to, no particular reason but I started doing it to just see what would happen.  So, it was never with a reason, I just had never done it and it made sense at the time.  My buddy Juan made all the good points to be honest, he made too much sense.  I miss my friend Juan.  He's not dead or anything, we're just not in the same state, don't worry he's fine.  Or is he?  I did finally get the paperback for The Descent Begins... I just don't know what to do with the copies, I don't know how to put them out there, but lowkey I like having that problem.

Speaking of my friend Juan, I miss our fireside rum fueled chats, so I am very close to introducing new ones with a friend I have made here.  I am excited about them but don't want to jump the gun, I am still me after all and refuse to put out a product I am unhappy with.  We're working on our groove and rhythm, but we're getting there.  Juan, if you are reading this, it's not you, it's me.  You deserve better, you can do better, when you do you'll know I was right.

The Strip is nice but I tend to keep away from it, it's not my scene.  The city itself is very friendly, welcoming and quiet for the most part.  I recently started a new schedule at work and it kind of threw my daily routine out of whack for a minute, but i'll get used to the new one.  I am healthier, happier and even more confident if that's possible.  Things are good is what i'm saying, but I knew they would, I just needed a little time.

I'm sure this is not what she had in mind, but it's an update and she's right, I am losing too much of myself as I find more of myself, if that makes sense. 

To be continued...

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

How to grow up fucked up but not end up like it

Make mistakes, make a ton of them.  Just make sure you acknowledge them as that.  Drink too much, a few times, enough times that you'll wake up and say "that's the last time".  Wake up in an unknown bed clutching your phone but missing your purse, because you know your priorities.  Regret things you did, but don't use regret as an excuse for anything.  We're human, we're allotted some leadway in our mistakes.  Above all, live.  That's what we're here for. 
Then, right around your thirties reflect, reminisce, remember all the things that brought you to that point.  Maybe you'll have children, maybe you wont.  Read a few good books, re-read some of your favorites, let them sink in.  Listen to smart people and follow their lead. 
Forgive others, forgive the world and most importantly forgive yourself.  Because if you don't, you will become your own worst prosecutor.  Once you've come to terms with the fact that you are not perfect and yes you are guilty of a few things, just not as many as you hold yourself  accountable for, you must above all else respect yourself.  Only after respecting yourself can you properly respect others.
It's at this point in your life that you take inventory of your life and begin detaching yourself from things.  I don't just mean from material things, though yes those definitely need to go.  They get very heavy and troublesome when you move.  I mean people in your life that are not good for you, people that aren't necessarily bad, just not the right people to be around.  People that you might be keeping around for the wrong reasons, or just people who don't have the vibe to match your frequency.  Set a frequency at a level that only the right people will be able to connect to.
Pack your bags and move, then unpack them and move again, lose the things you want and keep the ones you need, then unpack them again and just keep what is necessary.  You'll notice you'll move easier once you get down to what you can carry as opposed to what you think you need.  Continue doing that and things will work out just fine.
I'll keep you posted from time to time on how it's working for me...

Monday, May 20, 2013

The music's not over...

The three greatest influences of my life, so far, have been The Doors, Bukowski and Jack Kerouac.

I was introduced to The Doors by a friend of one of my older brothers.  He used to dress like the Crow.  Brandon Lee's The Crow in case there was any confusion, i know some of you young bucks might not recall that.  He played their first album and talked to me about him and it sparked something that has lasted a little over two decades and many, many t-shirts.  There was just something different, something raw, poetic and sad about Jim Morrison's whole story.  But, in the end you accepted that it was how it was supposed to be, there was no other way he could have lived his life.  Though i had no way to compare myself to it at all, i felt like i could listen to him all day every day. 

It was just not Jim after a while though, no, he needed the rest of The Doors in order to convey his message.  Without them he was just a jester with no court upon to perform.  I always felt the true leader of that troupe was Ray Manzarek though, he founded the group and kept it together for the little time they actually were together.  A talented musician who saw the potential in this young poet and the potential they could have in history together.  The Doors were what The Beatles are for others, or The Stones, or Led Zep.  I can honestly say there isn't a month in my life when i don't listen to them or subject someone else to have to.

Ray died today and saddened me a bit.  It seems like lately i've been writing because i'm happy or i'm sad.  The original post i was working on will now have to wait, this is a little more important.  I'll end this post with an anecdote of how i almost met another Doors member.

It was high school and i was seeing this very nice jewish girl.  I had a birthday coming up and she knew of my fascination with The Doors, she told me was able to facilitate a meeting with John Densmore.  Her grandmother was friends with his grandmother and she wanted to give me a meeting with him for my birthday.  This was during a time when i was not as bright as i am now, in a time when i was heavily influenced by the unauthorized biographies of semi acquaintances of Doors members and the specifically the movie The Doors, written and directed by Oliver Stone.  If you know anything about Oliver Stone that should tell you that maybe you shouldn't take his word as stone, he seems to lean towards one side quite heavily.  I was 16, what did i know.  Needless to say i politely declined.

In retrospect i will say, you can't change the past.

Having said that, i am an idiot.

Ray Manzarek, you were born to be beautiful and to show beauty and you will be missed.

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

This is where Skywalker yells "NOOOOOO!!!!"


I would like to apologize to any black person and any dark skinned person that has heard me say “I want light skinned children” who was offended.  Hearing that out of context, yes, makes me sound like a racist.  But, allow me to explain the entire conversation that was missed.  By doing so, I know that not only will I confirm your initial thought of my racism, but, you can also add coward to it and also stupid. 

 

The reason why I’m addressing this issue is fairly simple, too many people have heard it and too many people I’m with at the time have called me out on it.  Not the racism part, which what does that say about them, but the “didn’t you see the black girl next to you?” or my personal favorite “how could you say that to him, his best friend is black”.  Ladies and gentlemen, I have my reasons as I will now explain.  Not to justify my stance as much as express my freedom of speech.

 

Here we go.

 

Growing up in LA, MacArthur Park to be exact, as an illegal immigrant you got to see a good share of violence and danger but not much racism.  We were sheltered from the outside world in that little Central American utopia.  Unfortunately, my mother wanted us to learn outside our means.  So she sent us to schools in better neighborhoods while still living within our means.  Like I said though, no racism, or so I thought.

 

So I’m in HS talking to my friends about elementary school and it hits me, there was only one black kid in my elementary school for ONE semester.  It wasn’t until I was in High School, HIGH SCHOOL, that I realized that.  Mar Vista Elementary was in the residential area in the city of Santa Monica, so, big money.  48% of the students lived in the neighborhood, white kids, 48% were shipped in on yellow school buses, Latino kids, and somehow like 4 Asians snuck in when we weren’t looking.  That’s a joke, relax people, just trying to release all this racial tension in the air. 

 

Junior High and High School were uneventful, if I ever beat up someone other than Latino it was cause they had it coming not cause of the color of their skin.  After HS joined the Marines, and well, we don’t see color there.  We’re all dumb, good for nothing recruits who can’t even wipe their own asses correctly, color has no factor when it comes to stupid in the Marines.

 

After that I didn’t see racism until I became a trucker for those years, well there was all that racial profiling while I was working Loss Prevention for a department store.  That shouldn’t count though, considering it was me doing most of the profiling, but, that’s neither here nor there.  As a trucker, driving through major cities and so many minor cities, you speak to a lot of people.  Some great, open minded individuals.  Way too many foul mouths spewing all the hatred that can only come from generations of hand me downs.  The scariest part being that they mean and believe it.

 

So, a little background on me.  I am not your typical Latino, for one, I think I’m white.  Secondly, I have little to no accent when I speak.  Finally, I am light skinned, well light enough to not automatically be assumed to be Latino.  Now, put all those together and I can pass by unnoticed or in most cases be included in groups of white people.  And, that’s when racism pops it’s ugly little head.

 

So here’s the thing.  No one’s been directly racist to me, nope, I’ve heard some ignorant shit, seen some prejudice and read about plenty of bad shit done in the name of skin color all throughout history.  You know what, that shit scares me.  Mainly cause you can’t shoot it dead, you can’t eventually over come it, it has absolutely no cure and is random as fuck.

 

One thing I want to make clear before I continue, I believe that every race has these same examples.  Every race has faced the same obstacles, blacks have had the worst by far.  I am not playing the violin for all those poor helpless latinos that can’t even get a break, no, far from it, I am taking the cowards way out and not playing at all.  I’m actually advocating being really quiet and hopefully just going unnoticed. 

 

I look at all these things, include my life experience wearing this skin and I say “I want light skinned kids”.  That stupid sentence, cowardly embodies the only security I can give my unborn children.  Because I can’t promise them financial security, or that my drinking won’t incur hardships, worst of all that my lack of a male parental figure will make me unable to be a good father, I want to provide for them the one thing I might have some control over. 

 

They will be fighters, they will have confidence in themselves, they will be artistic, they will know right from wrong, they will live fulfilled lives.  What I have hope they wont have is a crutch, a chink in their armor that the enemy can see a mile away.  It’s stupid to think this way, I know, but there are too many parts of this world that see things very simply put, in black and white.  I’d rather they not thread the line but infiltrate and attack from within, nothing like being the cavalry that flanks the enemy and helps turn the tide.  Defense is fine but the offense usually comes a little better prepared.

 

In the end I’ve become what I want my children to avoid, I’ve become a racist person that sees the world in black and white.  I’ve become that person that I’ve hated growing up, the privileged na├»ve kid that has never been to the bad part of town, or that is so closed minded to the troubles in the world that you just want to smack them in the head for saying the most ignorant yet most innocent things.  Because they have been sheltered by parents that wanted the best for them, parents who saw the bad in the world and rather than try and fight an unbeatable monster instead chose to avoid it and hide.

Friday, February 22, 2013

The Descent Begins and My Pen Braces For Impact


It's on!  My latest collection of poems is available for download on KINDLE

I would like to thank my podcast co-host Juan, not only for the eye catching cover, but for putting the idea that, well in his words "do it, why not".  It wasn't even a question, it was just common sense.  Thank you for that sir.
Also to my friends and people who encourage me to continue doing this, like my family, they have all just pushed me on instead of questioned it.  I'm a very lucky man for all of them.

It should be available on paperback soon, i'll keep everyone posted.  I love technology but, just like a comic book, holding it in my hand to read just feels better.  But please, get it on KINDLE, dont listen to me, find out for yourself.

Again, thank you all.