Season's Greetings My Dearest Readers

Sunday Morning in Las Vegas: A Haiku

An all white room with a soft Sunday light

Two people laying in a comfortable bed:

Secret companionship

Madame Tussauds: A Haiku

I am staring at real celebrities
Many cool rooms --
They're fake

Howard Hughes: A Haiku

A warm winter day
At Howard Hughes Center --
I wait

Tuesday is a Trend: Part II

I.

Fila cream tennis shoes,

Perry Ellis jeans and turtleneck,

Black leather European cut jacket,

Gucci wallet in pants,

I'm ready to do my Tuesday ritual.

Workman-like Mazda truck,

Drive to the place where wine is sold,

Park vehicle,

Go in establishment,

I'm ready to meet new people.

Tonight will be different. I hope.

II.

The night is cool,

On the patio,

I receive stares,

Unfriendly stares,

I wonder what I'm doing wrong.

Is it because of my skin color?

After all, I'm the darkest being here.

Is it because of my fashion?

May be I'm too Bay Area for them,

May be my influences from the East is showing.

Is it my attitude?

They sense my difference, or rather indifference,

My uncomfortableness,

My otherness,

My incomprehensibleness.

Tonight will be different. I hope.

III.

Sitting down,

At the bar,

Drinking port,

Ordering vodka and cranberry juice,

I want to forget.

A man comes by me,

I recognize him,

We speak,

He says he like black guys.

I say oh and ask why,

He mentions my blackness, my African features,

Are like blond hair, blue eyes, brunettes,

He grew up in an all white area,

All black men are troubled beings,

Interesting, I say.

Interesting, I think.

I cannot comment anymore,

I wish his kind will go away.

Tonight will be different. I hope.

The end.

Goals: My Ninth Attempt at Haiku

Three goals
Develop on a cold fall night:
I'm afraid

Vegas in Fall: A Happy Thought

This is my Las Vegas story.

The mile-long mountains discover divine crystals,

waiting for their refreshing blankets,

thirst ends.

The earth is relieved,

sighing plants,

insects slumber.

Brown becomes gold,

calming dust,

the air is cool and refreshing.

People smile,

rediscovering their souls,

they are more generous.

I'm pleased,

feeling happier,

I am wealthy.

This is my Las Vegas story.

Money, Am I Real?

This my learning experience while leaving in Las Vegas.

Am I real?

I trap the poor and middle class.

I am manipulated by the rich.

Am I real?

I was real before the seventies; your president turned me into currency.

I am real as long as you believe in me.

I am only digital.

Am I real?

I make you go into debt.

I make you fear and love me.

I make you hate me.

I know you feel this way because you don't know me.

Am I real?

I can take away your fortune.

I can make you work forever.

I can do these actions because you don't know my tricks.

Am I real?

Observing World AIDS Day: A Prayer

Dear Lord,

I pray that you'll help humanity find a cure.

I pray that you'll comfort those poor souls who are living with this devastating disease.

I pray that those who are living with HIV and AIDS will get the drugs that they need.

I pray that those who are not infected will be understanding.

I pray that no other human being will be inflicted by this condition.

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, Amen.

*Image Source -- www.ebogjonson.com.

The Strip and Arts: My Eighth Attempt at Haiku

Millions of people throwing money
Hot, neon lights glowing in the crisp fall night air --
Zen aura art museum

Dread and Hunger: My Seventh Attempt at Haiku

A-crisp-cool-Arctic-wind emotion
I feel dread --
I guess I'm hungry

The Summer of '93 [Explicit]

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An American Poem

This is my Las Vegas and American Story with very little punctuation

America

America

America

Listen to me

See my visions

A large African-American family with Southern values

In their Sunday best

Leaving church

So, America, what do you assume?

Do they belong to an all black church, perhaps they're baptist?

Are they in the South or at least near by?

Are they poor and live in the black side of town?

Do their children only make D's and F's in school?

Oh, America, you shouldn't assume

The large African-American family lives in Northern California

They are coming out of an old and established Roman Catholic Church

Most parishioners are Filipino

The family is well-off – they are upper middle class

Their children are good students

They graduated from good Californian universities: U.C. Berkeley, UCLA, Hayward State and Sacramento State

Italians and her white colleagues would love mom's lasagna and greens with turkey necks

Mexicans would love dad's burritos

The children love Thai and one of them is addicted to escargot

America do you need more?

An elegant Japanese women

Sitting behind a desk

Putting on make up

So, America, what do you assume?

Is her siblings well educated?

Is her family wealthy?

Did her family recently came from Japan?

Does she speak English well?

Oh, America, you shouldn't assume

She's a librarian

She grew up poor

Her parents were raised in central California

She was the only child in her family to receive a degree

She likes soul food

America do you need more?

A young white couple

In a black Mercedes

Listening to music while driving

So, America, what do you assume?

Do they come from upper middle class WASP families?

Are they doing economically well?

Do they speak the language of the dominant culture?

Are they listening to the classics or soft rock perhaps?

The couple lives in Contra Costa County, in a nice upper middle class neighborhood

They're facing bankruptcy

The husband was adopted by a Mexican family

His was given up by his teenage mother

The wife's family was well-off

Her parents love drugs

Lost everything and they divorce

He mother became a welfare queen

Standard English is good for work, but they mostly speak a common man's tongue

They love gangsta rap

Hot sauce is a necessity for their meals

America

America

America

You should never assume.

Death and the Soul: A Dialogue with God

This is my Las Vegas Story and my conversation with God.

“God, why did you take her away?”

God looked at me, and I was afraid he would have given me an instant pass to hell. But, since God is merciful, his mood changed and he said in a loving grandfatherly voice, “Baby, you wouldn't understand.”

“What do you mean that I wouldn't understand?”

“Baby, as I mentioned before, you wouldn't understand. Some things just need to happen. Plus, she's older than you.”

“How could that be God? I'm 34 and she was only 29. I asked you to take me. I wanted to be the sacrifice! I prayed that you would take me in my sleep. But, I woke up and I was still miserable. I would have been the perfect sacrifice for my family. As a matter of fact God, I didn't care whether I went to heaven or hell. I just wanted to leave this horrible planet.”

“As I said, baby, you cannot understand. You'll only mortal.”

“How can I not understand? You let me do complex things everything. I thought of things that were very unique to this world. I have the ability to understand many complex concepts. How dare you say . . .”

“BABY!!! I'M YOUR CREATOR AND YOU WILL NOT SPEAK TO ME IN THAT TONE. IF YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT I MEAN, I'LL TELL YOU, BUT YOU WON'T LIKE IT.”

“Baby, as I mentioned before, you're too young. Her mother is too young; her great aunt of ninety is too you. All of her aunts and uncles are too young. Their souls are young souls and they still need nourishment. They still need to grow. And this is true with yours.”

“But, hers been around a long, long time. I remember seeing the birth of her soul about the same time my son decided that he wanted to give it a try on earth. So, when a soul is old, I only give them from a few days to a few years to live on earth. As a matter of fact, she was lucky that I gave her 29 years. I've asked her many, many times to come up home and helped me, but she always requested to stay a little long. She wanted to do a little more of earthly living.”

“Baby, this time I told her that her time was up. I needed her in heaven to help run things. I also prefer my old and ancient souls to work directly under me. They have a much better understanding of the universe than the young ones. So, that's why she needed to go. I needed her.”

“Baby, when your time comes, I'll come get you. Just wait. My child, I have to go. And, please do not speak to me in that tone again. I love you.”

I could only respond, “I love you too.”

An Out of Work Librarian: My 6th Attempt at Haiku

I am an educated black man
Delivering things:
Las Vegas Library is hope

My Las Vegas Job: My 5th Attempt at Haiku

Job with very good pay

Flexible schedule --

I'm depressed

Tuesday is a Trend: Part I

This is my Las Vegas Story.

I wear my cream Gucci shoes,

Yellow poplin pants,

White French-cuffed dress shirt,

I'm dress to impress,

Is this really me?

I pick up my Gucci wallet,

Put $40 in it,

Take a few credit cards,

I may need to spend more money,

But do I have enough?

I jump into my Mazda B2500,

Drive a few miles down the road,

Go to the Four Seasons – I think the Mix I have to go,

Park my truck,

Will they accept me?

I go to the Mix,

A man in a black suit greets me,

I tell him I'm going to the place of trends,

He told me to enter an elevator,

Am I sweating fear?

I go into the elevator,

I travel up 64 floors,

I'm now at the top,

I exit this claustrophobic machine,

Will they judge me?

I walk to a table,

I see a sheet by a martini sign,

I write my name and email address,

I write Larry on a name tag and stick it by my heart,

Will they sense my shame?

I walked into the room,

I see the strip,

I observe people standing and speaking,

I know no one,

Do I belong?

I'm in the unknown.

I'm among people with Palm-Springs-Circuit-Party-Ways.

This is my Las Vegas Story.

North Side of Spring Mountain Road by the Strip: My 4th Attempt at Haiku

The edge of futuristic fashion
High living Wynn:
Homeless man sleeps in Esplanade

Downtown and Summerlin: My 3rd Attempt at Haiku

Struggling denizens
Gloomy depressed downtown --
Sunny rich Summerlin

Downtown: My 2nd Attempt at Haiku

Downtown Vegas
Bright neon motley lights:
Gambling addicted damned souls

The Perfume Man

This is my Las Vegas story.

I am the perfume man,
the fragrance guy,
the lover of scented people.

I believe in artificial scents,
non-human smells,
eradicate all natural human pheromones.

Educate the public,
make them more hygienic,
have perfumed libraries, schools, work places.

Damn those with chemical sensitives,
won't bow to their tyranny,
refuse to be in public and smell like natural child, man, woman.

Yes, I'm the perfume man,
the fragrance guy,
the lover of scented people.

This is my Las Vegas story.

My Las Vegas Designer Bags: My First Attempt at Haiku

brown, pink and straw bags
spring trends --
no sale

Past & Present

This is my Las Vegas Story.

Before I've arrived . . .

Professional,

Librarian,

UC Berkeley,

SUNY Buffalo,

This was me.

800 FICO Score,

A little house in suburbia,

A vacation home in Sin City,

A timeshare in Lake Tahoe,

Plenty of cash in the bank.

This was me.

Respected,

Love by community,

Role model to churro, chocolate, sweet rice & vanilla boys and girls,

This was me.

I have arrived . . .

Business man becomes delivery boy,

Librarians will not hire a leper boy,

Education becomes meaningless,

I think I'll burn my degrees.

This is me.

Afraid to look at FICO,

House and timeshare no more,

Vacation home becomes primary hole,

Cash is gone,

I think I'll cry.

This is me.

Disrespected,

Despise by professional class,

Family and friends secretly whisper, “What a shame,”

I think I've arrived to hell.

This is me.

What happen to me?

What have I become?

OH LORD, PLEASE SAVE ME.

This is my Las Vegas Story.

She's Gone: A Prayer

This is my Las Vegas story.

I received the email.

I made the call.

They told me.

I couldn't believe it.

Is this a trick?

I'm in so much pain.

Agony.

Why lord, why lord are you so cruel?

Why do you take away everyone and everything from my family and me?

Why do you have to make me into a modern job?

I'm in so much pain.

Agony.

You took away my dignity.

My livelihood.

My business.

My self-respect.

My profession.

I didn't mind this lord since i had to learn so many lessons.

But, you didn't have to take away my family!

You didn't have to take her!

She was so young. she had so much potential. she was beautiful.

I'm in so much pain.

Agony.

May be i shouldn't have come to this cursed city.

May be you were trying to tell me this.

Las vegas.

A place of broken dreams.

Broken spirits.

Death.

Sin.

Nonsense.

I'm in so much pain.

Agony.

May be if i didn't move to las vegas, she would still be here.

I would have told her that she was, and still is, love.

I would have told her that she had a great mind.

She should get her phd and become a philosopher.

She would have learned about web dubois, henry louis gates, marcus garvey, nietzsche, jung, freud.

She could have become one of the greatest thinkers of modern, our times.

Now she's gone.

She passed away.

Joining my family's beloved ancestors in the place of eternal rest.

I'm in so much pain.

Agony.

Yes, lord.

I shouldn't have moved to this cursed city.

It brought me.

My family.

My friends.

My loved ones.

So, so much pain.

I think this city of false hopes brings curses on newcomers.

It takes, takes away all from people who have dreams.

The slots.

Roulette tables.

Poker Video Games.

Take away our money, spirits, loves, lives.

May be lord this is why las vegas is called “sin city.”

After all sin means an action that is done without love.

A soulless city it is.

But, i'm angry, i'm grieving lord.

I'm in so much pain.

Agony.

Lord, i can't blame you.

You've already warned us.

Since adam and eve broke your covenant because of their primal disobedience.

We, as humans, were cursed until the time of our deliverance.

Our first mother and father lack faith in you.

They wanted all of from you.

They wanted to become gods.

So, our earthly mission is to suffer.

Lord, i have to blame someone or something.

Lord, i'll blame my pain, my cousin death on my adopted sodom and gomoroh.

After all lord, the children of adam and eve created sin city, the place of excess.

And, as your son mentioned that the payment of sin is death, physical and spiritual.

So, i blame my pain, i blame the death of my sister-cousin on las vegas.

My horrible decisions.

My bad luck.

I'm in so much pain.

Agony.

This is my Las Vegas story.

THIS IS A TRIBUTE TO MY BELOVED SISTER-COUSIN.

A Blog Introduction: My Attempted Poetic Rant

Wide dusty roads,

Long boulevards,

Mini-city infant sub-divisions,

Deep valleys,

Mile long mountains,

Brown, tan everywhere,

This is my Las Vegas Story.

1^st class whites,

2^nd class Mexicans,

All others, including blacks, blending here and there,

Where is community?

This is my Las Vegas Story.

Valet drivers, delivery gals and washer men make 60 – 100K,

Beginning teachers barely survive,

Betting men make fortunes,

49^th in education,

Restaurant servant girls drive beamers and wear Gucci,

Public art galleries = almost zero,

This is my Las Vegas Story.

Truthfulness is the norm,

But decorum is none,

Soulless,

This is my Las Vegas Story.

The outsider rules,

The insider feels invaded,

Newbies say its only okay,

Older newbies say you'll get use to it, a decade or so,

Natives won't even speak, won't even welcome,

This is my Las Vegas Story.

This is my attempted poetic rant introduction.