Skip to main content

The Road And The Sea











The Road And The Sea





I've spent the last several days exploring the catacombs of my previous life.

Since returning home, I've felt oddly out of place and out of touch.

Storefronts stand derelict and melancholy, the zest I was familiar with absent and dead.

I'd hoped portions of my old life would be comatose rather than deceased, but it seems as if they're either expired or reincarnated; there is no middle ground.

As I pen this, I'm sitting at the pond behind my public library.

I'm enlightened, yet embarrassed, to admit that, upon my entrance, my eyes teared up and I had to catch my breath.

This hasnt happened anywhere else here; not in the house I grew up in, Barnes and Noble, 24 Hour Fitness, or even my beloved Marina.

My parents redecorated and refurbished the house, and an enormous, spacious memory foam mattress now occupies my bedroom.

The aforementioned shops and haunts have either been vacated or transformed.

Stepping into Barnes and Noble here, the one I used to loiter in from the nascent morning until well after dusk, reading 3 books a day and writing poetry, has been redesigned and uprooted.

Walking in for the first time in 3 years, I was uncertain of whether I was back home or in Hawaii.

Only seeing the ancient painting of William Faulkner glowering down at me served to reassure me that, yes, I had indeed arrived.

"What are you doing, Son? Start writing!", he seemed to yell.

"Yes Sir.", I responded.

Family drama and the disintegration of relationships once believed to be ironclad and irreplaceable somewhat spoiled my homecoming.

In their absence, however, new life has flourished, and the seeds of a love long ago planted are beginning to sprout.

I'm gazing out right now at this beloved pond.

The water is a cross between cerulean blue and a murky green the color of moss.

There's a solitary wooden square in the center.

Its constituents have been aged by the Sun's heat and the constant barraging of the water, and solidified birdshit dots it, lending it a kind of plebian, vigilant character.

I recall coming here as a child, my cousins surrounding me as my Grandfather cast our baited hooks out, before settling back into his lawn chair.

The world that moment belonged to it long gone, existing solely in my memory perhaps.

Yet that does nothing to dilute its potency.

The road and sea beckoned and shouted, and I answered in spades.

Now I can finally relax.

I just need to remember how. 

Popular posts from this blog

Crystal Lake

Crystal Lake






I'm begging you to let me immolate/
This is straight/
From the heart because this inner pain/
Won't dissipate/
I'm lifting weights/
With every bitter day/
Because this hidden angst/
Fuck, it simply weighs/
Too much for me to mitigate/
What I'm feeling, to be alone, a risk to take/
I'm in a pickle late-/
Ly, as I sit and wait/
On a phone call from a certain little name/
That will never hit the stained/
Glass, so I rip and rage/
Against myself, against the strain/
Of this mistake/
And with that one, the ripples graze/
Across the surface of the crystal lake/
Of my mind, the crypt I lay/
In is of my own building, I fell in, tripped and splayed/
Out on the concrete/
All these/
Haunting/
Images come back to taunt me/
I'm wanting/
The past to arm me/
With calm things/
Palm me/
In your hand baby and stop me/
From washing/
Away these thoughts each/
Night with whiskey and oxy/
I'm falling/
Darkly/
Into the halls these/
Demons are walking/
Through, stalk…

Death Row

Death Row




I cant sleep/
Because these damn bleat-/
Ing fat sheep/
Harass me/
With thoughts of home everlasting/
They ask me/
If I'm doubting/
Whether I'll be happi-/
Er back there or out be-/
Ing the bad dream/
I've been to half the peop-/
Le I've known, just last week/
I slapped, beat/
Down three/
Annoying ass teens/
For laughing/
As I watched a movie slammed, beat/
After a savage week/
At work, I found these/
Hands swing-/
Ing grabbing/
Necks to gash and ring/
While attacking/
Panicking/
I stand, shriek/
And pass weak/
Guards, they cant catch me/
Tragedy/
Befalls actually/
Facts and brief/
Glass meet-/
Ings with a pastor week-/
Ly leaves me/
Seeking/
A deity/
To help free me/
But they keep me/
In this cage weeping/
Scheming/
To beat these/
Screws/
Loose/
Unleashing/
Rage when they leash me/
Up like a dog, deep things/
Run through my head underneath these/
Veins running varicose/
My demons seem/
To always be very close/
Air and smoke/
Are an errant joke/
The mirror p…

My Story Of Sexual Abuse

For J. Find peace.



The first time it happened was around the end of 1999. My Mom and my Aunt were busy prepping everything for the holidays, and my older cousin begged to babysit me. Looking back, though there was nothing that indicated what he would do to me, I now find it odd that he showed so much extra attention towards me. In the days prior, when all of the kids played whatever trivial games we dreamed up, he would go out of his way to ruin my fun. I remember one instance where we were playing Heads Up 7-Up or something similar, and though my head was down, he stopped the game and said that I was peeking at the other players, something banned by the rules. "No I didnt!", I protested. "Yeah you did, I seen you!", he'd reply mockingly. My two front teeth stuck out prominently due to a mix of bad genetics and awkward dental work, and I told one of my other cousins, in jest, that I'd gladly trade my teeth for hers. We laughed, until I heard him behind us.…