Saturday, November 16, 2013

To My Evanescent Lover

(Elaine Fernandez, John Reinard FernandezGerard Ariess Fernandez  Reynaldo Fernandez, and Gina Fernandez.)

To My Evanescent Lover

I can almost always smell it
even before I see the storm clouds
I still disagree with those
who say I'm too stupid
to come in out of the rain
It's really that I'm not willing
to only live on sunny days
in light ways
with good christian people
there is more life out there
and more to learn about
Me and U your Mama
and your cousin too
I'm not unique in
what I've been through
but maybe I am
in my worldview
they don't like my facts
or how I figure
I'm extra extra large
my heart and mind
are bigger bigger bigger
than they used to be
when you look in my third eye
what do you see?
I'm looking in the mirror
because I don't want to be
blind to my own reality
I want to remove
all the articles
that obscure my vision
of the god particle
I don't want to be Spartacus
I'm The Artist
Formerly known as Big Urban
my Suburban grooves
to Bob Marley tunes
even if his mother 
thinks it ludicrous
when I move he moves
because it's my hug
my heart that
soothe him to sleep
give him inner peace
fill up the love
in his heart
maybe he is my art
that is something about
the new me that you
must understand
if I wanna be your man
and also that
I'm on that inclusivity
and integration
infinite diversity expressed
as an indivisible one
and the other way round
I'm knocking down
all my velvet ropes
I make my own way
I'm not afraid
I don't have any hope
I have knowledge
I have love
I have peace
I'm going
to expand my consciousness
broaden my horizons
until my last heartbeat
I'm ready for my illusions
my delusions
to expire
I want sobriety
far more than notoriety
the Universe
is my only deity
you can borrow my visine
to lubricate
to cleanse
when to your own self
you prevaricate
those times when
you look in the mirror
and all you see
is who they told you to be
feel free to observe my processes
my digresses
my Socrates with a tendency
to take flight
that's right
I'm like a bird
I've kissed the sky
so there is no way I
could ever be satisfied
with only walking this way
talking that way
I want to see the picture
with as many pieces
of the puzzle
as it takes
for it to become clear
Do you still want to come by here?
Hold a poet's hand
forgive my mistakes
not leave because
you anticipate 
Don't come here
if you can't choose
love over fear
I've loved and lost
I'm not eagerly seeking
to relive that experience
I'm satisfied being a Dad
I'm far less sad
most days at least
an equal percent happy
so if you want to tap me
as your Noah
your Romeo
talk about the places
we can go
the dreams we will seek
the poems I will speak
and you be a
South Pacific Islander
who emulates Martha Stewart
until you make it to it
then spread your own wings
who loves to hear me sing flatly
state my thoughts exactly
and wait for you to
open up your notebook to me
then by all means
not tomorrow
but today
be the flower
who grows my way
of her own accord
but don't be shallow
I'm known to get bored
please have some intellectual
and sexual curiousity
lets go deep inside our soul
and live with God
in that place of interconnectedness
perpetual self correctiveness
not because we are not enough
but because the universe
is like a child
growing wild like a weed
we are the brain
we are the heart cells
your unconditional love
is all I need.

Friday, November 1, 2013

Apple 3.14

I don't make the words
the words don't make me
being a student of all life
hasn't created a fake me
instead its given me more eyes
feathers in wings that fly or die
notes where there were just keys
U where there was just me
light leaning creating colors
between nothing and all
I'm not searching without
knowing what I am
because I know
what I don't know
knowledge is not my pain
it's my paint
that is not a stain
it's symbolism
a collage of energy
thoughts I consciously chose
to program my individualism
words as tools 
to choose between
to express experiences
so fresh and so clean
if I protect my mind
if I guard my heart
my sanctuary
of silence and solitude
becomes a prison of isolation
I do not emulate
or immolate
but if I expect 
never to feel
never to bruise
never to lose
then I choose
never to heal
never to reveal
never to become
a tree with branches
limbs, leaves,and fruit
but stay straight like a pole
that pledges allegiance 
to flags in all earnest
feeding the fires
that will some day burn it
instead I discern it
not swallow whatever
I'm fed by spoon
I learn, I grow, I bloom,
and I earn it.