Weary eyes and sore muscles. A devine sense of self; I rest

Laying on my blanket in a hoodie and pajamas in my home along the river

In the cold and rainy northwest. Along the Pacific ocean and mountain peaks

The humid air and ocean breeze I listen to the train whistle blow

Resting my eyes and awake I sleep.


Is run free even possible. Run? Free?

Occupying the same sentence but..

Polar opposites; Yet I combine them

Running down my street; fast as I can

The road ends; I’m met with water

So I dive in; truly running free

Weightless bliss and the world…

Is lifted off of my shoulders.


The b girl t girl it’s me world

Dancing n Stompin on leprechauns

Graff writer, the morning apple biter

Squattathon apple bottom horizontal

Leg lifts n vegan dish, Splishy splash

Free as a bird with the fish. eez

Bish please;

People come n go like the train

I run with my wife n son in the rain

Never in vain; kinda broke

Stains on my shirt;

I don’t complain, sip n trip

Go to the skatepark n rip

a concrete wave.

April showers. May flowers.

The rain pours in the pitch black night

The rain always makes me feel alive

My mind rejoices in its presence

Releases endorphins

And creativity flows more naturally

The calming effect; I can take my time

Unwinding as I write for I had just awoke from a mild nightmare…

The rain is warm flowing in from the south pacific

Soon the sun will rise in the east

Barely making it through the rain clouds

My lover will be awake and we will grow abother day

I suppose Ive had a head start and I dive into my writing

Rain pouring out my windows and seeping

And searching through all the dark cracks of the city.

It finds me

In good spirits


I miss you.

Abbot street; an old opium den. The Sun Ah hotel.

The elevator shaft once brought up. the heroin.

Now your blankets and trash are discarded in the rusted abyss.

The distinct smell of crack and meth house mixed with cigarettes, mold and bed bug spray.

Yet when times were rough indeed we still strived to achieve our dreams through tears and fears and thick and thin.

I watched over you and you watched over me. I miss you dearly J bird; rest in peace.

I’ll meet you in a ghetto in the sky and we’ll put a studio in our trap.

Vegan mango fruit juices and topical tropical psychedelic ganja.

I promise you I’m doing good down here and thinking of you my friend.

For me it’s almost like there’s no one left and I can’t wait to see you instead.

We can view the memoirs of our lives mixed and mastered plastered onto the sands of time.

Where do Angels go when they die? I hope to see you again; in the ghetto in the sky.