Sunday, November 25, 2007

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

Friday, November 23, 2007

Dread and Hunger: My Seventh Attempt at Haiku

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

Sunday, November 18, 2007

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.

Friday, November 9, 2007

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.”

Sunday, November 4, 2007

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

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

Saturday, November 3, 2007

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.