[10] left out West …

left out West …


well, I took the land,

like pests with no rest.

The blessings of my mother’s nature,

helped access

my inner stride, in well accordance with heartbeat’s thump.

What I am to tell you,

I’m not quite sure the ending.

I see it’s llght though.

The next move, had to contemplate like Chess, move.

The pale blush fingers of dawn new sky, I had to.

Follow, the lawn. The great lawn. Did, and passed a fawn.

Sipping by the whirlwinds of Texas drilling pelicans, not. Deer, I do see on your campus. Nameth, Kean University.

Ah but …

Let me tell you this,  ‘time I

left out West …



[9] mysterious fishies …

[9] mysterious fishies …

float about in gupping world’s of unknown pink,

Like sin without fins,

Swimming at paces of a trillion blinks

mysterious fishies …




float about in

[8] hurricane …

[8] hurricane …

I know your disappointment,

sweeping all your knowledge to test.

repent, albeit.

oh dear,

hurricane …

[6] slacked activism …

[6] slacked activism …

so you’re sitting there,

pondering about creative solutions.

Is this enough?

are you serving your role?

is it specific or of

various hands?

If so, how do you manage?

If not, whats your role then?

Ah, I see

a weaver of

threads, strands & vessels

of immortality ,

training as a lab chemist

exploring business & storytelling

intending to practice across analog & digital mediums.

I get it.

So then, before then?

Oh! during? I see

Well then,

Alright then.

Just tell me what slacked activism,

would look like on your face then.

Mhm …

no determination ,

stagnance &


slacked activism …



[5] be too heavy …

[5] be too heavy …

watching the news

be too heavy.

keeping  a watchful eye from Trump

be too heavy.

Keeping a lighter disposition

be too heavy.

Keeping it sweet & apologetic

be too heavy.

Inquiring statuses  of IRL  friendships

be too heavy .

Then, a Transition ,  a Transfer & Transformation …

Now Weaver  of hair strands, fabrics & collaged experiments …

albeit —

be too heavy.

[4] when you cradle …

[4] when you cradle …

rocking back and forth,

bobbing and swinging between

the gallops of air,

for a parachute of your claims

caressing immortality.

when you cradle …

[3] daydreaming, stop …

[3] daydreaming, stop …

why do you dive,

deep to the ultimate ends.

ends of fibers extended from thy scalp.

a scalp full of thoughts, recipricals,

divided by inner most & dire thoughts

of  attentive solutions,

oh the magnificient .

daydreaming, stop …


[1] there are such things ….

[1] there are such things …

your patient whisper, a

gentle breeze on the hairs of my throat.

trickling desires onto my clavicles’ thin skin.

my neck –

swallows …

heavy gulps, then

eyes set — ( widened )

they blink and they flutter.

pulsating chest, in

collaboration with

rhythmic pulls of gravity

that holds onto the blue lines of my arms.

air gaspings while in the zone, exchanging

each other’s breath.

a pretzeling collective of 4 arms, reminding

one another of their strength in lockdom.

there are such things.