The Day is Night

Then take your suicide! Do it else the light of the day and swarm of the angels should come down, and holy fire will sanctify your life with light!

But then, you do not dare I see, you dare not take the last remains of your cowardliness and complaining to the ends of its meaning: then it is clear to me that you lack conviction even in your own words!

You wriggle about and mock life for its unfailing nature and hardiness, all the while still clinging, still holding onto the glimmer of light that douses your dreams at night with illusions of reckoning!

But to which side do you hold to then? For it cannot be that life is hard yet also holds reckoning? Is it in your own mind again that you have separated what cannot be separated?

Then you see, it is your lot to uphold both, and in each take its due course while in wait for the next bout of the cycle. So cast aside your longing eyes! Because in the dark you’ll wish for sunlight, and in the sunlight wish for dark! But why not laugh when the sun is gone, and rejoice when the hour has come, and the night has faded and the day has faded, and all that’s left is what you’ve become.


Her smile she speaks
and says that kindness above all is what she must preach

I look in her eyes and see no deceit
a lover I find
but not of mine.

I think of her feats,
they are not much to me,
but still I think of her
and think –that I should continue on with her despite my leave.

I consider.
I think.
I could leave with her –a message or link, a memento or way, for maybe someday!

Someday… I wish, but then what’s this burden I feel?
I consider her smile, I consider her pain,
and how inconsiderate if I were to tell her,
that maybe someday…

Maybe someday… would I create this way?
But then I’ve given us both the worst,
that I could not come to truly leave.

I look at her smile,
I think of what she speaks.

Above all be kind.
Goodbye for now.

And there is no deceit.
Goodbye I’m sure.

My lover she speaks,
and though I wish to hear,
and though I wish to see,
and though I wish to help,
and see the cheers and cries of triumph and defeat…

Though I wish that maybe someday…
Today I say Goodbye,

Goodbye I hope
Goodbye I stand
Goodbye and wish, that perhaps we’ll cross again.

Fake — Part 1

I write, “Mother, Father, I’m running away from home! I no longer wish to see the tears roll down your faces. Is much too much for much of me.

I wish for clearer skies and wishful breezes, the kind that lift one’s spirit, despite one’s body being seldom lifted.

I move to Vancouver tomorrow, I do not wish to be spoken to, I do not wish to hear from you.

I hope you will respect this final wish as I do not know how long I will need.


I leave the flimsy sheet of paper on my wooden desk at home. The airplane ticket is already booked, I just need to head to the airport.

I call my friend who’s supposed to be picking me up. The other end rings several times, then drops to mailbox. I shrug and grab my backpack and the gym bag I packed the night before, I head out the door and begin walking.

I think, “People can’t be depended on. This much I know is true. So true, that I can not even depend on myself.

What is wrong… that I could have what I think is good and still be felt as wrong?”

My phone rings, my friend has called back. I pick up.

She speaks, “Hey, sorry about that, was still in the gym. Are you leaving early?”

I shake my head, “On time.”

“Oh, sorry, sorry I’m running home right now, I’ll pick you up?”

I hang up. I think, “People can’t be depended on. How many excuses, how many lies! Told over and over again, this: the greatest lie –the last time.

How short-sighted can humans be? Terribly so, terribly so.”

My phone rings. I hesitate, I want to leave it, yet I squarely pick up.

I speak, “So…”

A different voice speaks, “This is your Mom. What the hell are you doing?”

“Mom, I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“You’re making me worried! You shouldn’t do that, you’re my son. Aren’t son and mother always supposed to be happy?

I’m coming home, will you stay?”

“I’m leaving Mom,” I hang up.

I go to my friend’s contact and delete her from my phone. Several more calls come to my phone. I silence them and continue walking.

I think.

For Those Who Would Spread Love

I profess, in you I see much to love! But this is not enough, you’re fearfulness shakes me up inside. Where love is pure yours is amuck!

There’s something there that shouldn’t be. What is it? Huh, do tell me dear –in your speech, you profess to me:

–‘Love I see! Is the most important thing. And to spread this gift, the only thing.

I stand above these sharks, who would hurt and follow –and my heart is weak, from anything too shallow.’

But dear, what is love? For doesn’t nature show the cruelest touch? A mother bird pushes her darlings from the nest –and die they might, but so they must fly!

‘It’s interesting you should say! But still I see kindliness –and is this not what we should all aspire to? Polite and curt?

There’s nothing worse than a man who makes a huge fuss –over what? Nothing! And they speak bad words, backstab, and hurt.

Isn’t it better, if we lived without hurt?’

But did you not just –fuss over this man? And did you just not betray, your hate for his kind?

Where is your love for him? That I should ask –because it seems that your love, is not as far as I thought.

‘No, you have me wrong! I only mean to say –that this is a part. In person I’d never, say any of these words.’

Your actions betray your self-contained world! That you should speak these words to me –behind the backs of these sorts of men.

And even worse that in person, you’d never let them know of your honest thoughts.

‘But do you mean to say that I’m petty too? I can’t see how that could be true! I’ve done nothing wrong –I’ve only said words.’

But precisely this –you’ve never done good. You’ve never accepted fear –you run from it too quickly to see what it’s trying to say. And if you did, you’d act –and follow a different path of pain.

But instead you hide, in love’s warm domain –and in its name you excuse yourself, from doing anything great.

A Warrior

My reason fails to grasp at the wings of understanding
it falls from heights and lands
and fears its descent.

But then the warrior never cared for reason.
He marks his path in solemn ways,
honors his error as hidden intent.

Come! I dare you to fare the worst! For the prince longs to see blood. The prince longs to be a warrior, and for what the warrior does, we can only attest to the finest matters of love and madness.

Thus with laughter we kill on the battlefield of sin.
The higher we aspire the more we crave to be cut down as a tree
“Hold sacred your highest hope.” –and love like the innocence of a child.
The Nature to be cruel whispers in my ear.
Thus the prince spoke to his lover for the first time.

For the warrior knows,
wishes to slay that which is inside and claim victory
and through his own victory, overcoming himself,
does he then see the true battle and peace of mind that says –war and courage have accomplished more than love of one’s neighbors.

For My Dad

By this time in my life, I’d hoped to have overcome enough struggles to have found some Truth. And I have, but if there’s anything I know, is that man deceives himself.

My Dad called me yesterday. He’d just gotten home from China recently and was excited to see me; I wasn’t there.

I’d left to LA in pursuit of. And in my pursuing it meant that I had to leave home earlier than he expected, earlier than I expected. Regardless, I left, he came home, I wasn’t there, he called, and we agreed that he would come up to LA for my birthday.

He called me last night and said he would be in LA tomorrow night. I’d lost track of time over the weekend, it hadn’t realized tomorrow was my birthday. I checked my phone –close enough, two days before my birthday.

I questioned if he was staying for the weekend. And he continually affirmed that we were just getting dinner. Just getting dinner?

A pang of guilt washed over me, and I thought of myself. I didn’t want my Father to drive all the way from NorCal to SoCal just to see me for one dinner.

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I remember too when I wanted to relax my mind. The human can get used to anything I suppose. Thought flows in such angry, explosive ways –it’s no wonder we’re scared of it, that it would consume us and sweep us away.

And should you let it grow it becomes the deepest friend –a person, that you speak to on a whim.

Do you trust this friend? Do you let it be? Or do you try to shape it, make it more than it ought to be?

I’ve seen those men that backstab their friends. Their bloody eyes claim that sorry is enough. But a mistake held ruefully, they would surmise. That in the end, an eye is met with an eye.

I’ve seen those that let it be. They clamor about the weather then go to sleep. They struggle to move about and feel their feet, and their thought struggles with no purpose, ebbing like the sea.

And for those that try to sharpen it –a earnest try indeed. But when you visit with a list of grieves, not in spite, but holding it you proceed… That her eyes were not colorful enough, that she seldom sees to work, that perhaps it’d be better if she didn’t overlook! Well my friend, you’re no longer with that girl.

How do you treat your friend then? Well, I presume with laughter and good mead. But does this lead to debauchery? Perhaps this is all that’s meant to be.

Answer me skies and heaven! What is it that this friendship holds? What is the destiny, of the friendship that we mold?

But the heavens do not answer. I turn to my hapless friend. Thought he stares back at me and says, “Look I have bones!

That they should let me stand tall, and move about on my own.

Is this not what I am for? But look you’ve treated me like an old unmatched sock! Left without a second thought!”

And how right my hapless friend was! That we disrespect our thought, overestimate it, let it slack off.

This is no way to treat one’s body! Much less one’s thought.

Would you let your body rot as well? That you would feed it garbage, pills, and sweetly treats?

Would you punish your body overly? That you would exhaust yourself until you fell?

Would you lash out at your body if one day it failed to move? That you would not instead try in earnest, to recoup?

Treat your body well! But then what of your mind and thought?

This friend, he cries out to explore! Then will you let him out the door?

Cogito ergo sum.