Heroic Quatrain.

Barflies come together to buzz a round
Dance forever under the clear sky to a night owl sound
Making new friends on common ground
Swimming in drinks hoping to never drowned.

CONSEJO

Si no es el barrio es la placa que me ataca
Muchos intentan pero son pocos los que realmente escapan
Tengo que ponerme trucha en esta realidad porque si no
La calle me mata, asi si es la vida cuando hay poca plata
Aun sabiendo que en estos rumbos la vida es muy barata
Siendo asi, como se puede hacer la machaca?
En estas calles no resaltan las oraciones del papa
Por alguna razon no podemos salir de esta dolorosa etapa
Y yo queriendo dejar mi marca antes de que me borren del mapa
Recito estos versos como si fuera a despedirme con esta carta
No sabemos cuanto tiempo nos falta o cuanto tiempo nos queda
No sabiendo que hacer los compas mejor se ponen grifos y se empedan
Al despertar sabemos muy bien que vendra una nueva guerra
Nunca aceptados en el mundo siempre mirando desde afuera
Hasta el dia que me muera me miraran como si fuera yo cualquiera
Por eso le doy mi todo porque sinceramente no hay de otra manera
Perdidos entre el bien y la loquera queriendo yo estar en mi propia esfera
Intentando hacer lo que debo mientras me hecho unas cuantas chelas
Quizas no sea perfecto pero cuando hablo, hablo directo
Y aunque este borrozo intento mostrar nuestro reflejo del espejo
Solo espero que los que sepan desifrar este mensaje tomen mi consejo
Si piensan que en esta vida estoy perdido solo me hago el pendejo
Si el mundo me va a desviar de mi camino chales, yo no me dejo
Eso si damas y caballeros nunca ha sido parte de mi complejo
Y aunque no siempre tenga la razon a todo tiempo intento ser honesto
Por eso nunca dejare que mi mente lo tomen preso
Y asi sere aunque que el mundo no me de acceso
Con esto termino mi rima solo quize aclarar mi proceso
Siempre intentando sobrevivir aqui en esta ciudad
Humildemente hasta que descanse en paz mi cuerpo.

THE RUDE GIRL

I was asked to dance at an outdoor show last night. Actually, that’s a half-truth in actuality I invited a pretty girl out and she eventually took me up on my offer, however before I get into that we have to first begin with a little perspective, I was more specifically asking this particular lovely girl out to skank. Now the skank pit is one of my main comfort zones if not a safe space (at least for someone with as much aggression as me.) That is in stark contrast to my other comfort zone which is a library BUT I’m forever attracted to the pit with all of its coordinated chaos and natural endorphin rush. Over the years I have worked on mastering the craft of skanking having begun in my late teens at countless backyard gigs as are most of the attendants at any given punk/ ska show through the L.A. scene, I’ll spare details needless to say I’ve finally reached the age of old as fuck by punk standards, post thirties.
Now for a little more clarity, to skank is not to mosh, or pogo, or wreck. To skank in the pit is one of the most gorgeous things I’ve ever experienced , the mixing of the traditional ska, the 2 tone, third wave, punk /ska, the hardcore all into one big musical pozole that is supplemented by brass instruments that help guide the circle(s) throughout the night, wow what a sight. The judge of quality to any show of course has always been the bigger the pit the better the show but the quality of pit is always, always the most crucial component.
So now to formally begin, my lady friend and I met up at the park, she drank her imported beer I drank my domestic malt liquor, homies walked by (both hers and mine), herb was sparked and passed around. People began staring at us because the main homie we were with had a life changing pipe that lets you see the herb smoke turn into a perfect cyclone within the clear piece and we were packing mad bowls just to see the smoke take shape. We got comfortable where we were standing and just kept blazing and steady skanking within our own personal space half watching but really just hearing the second band as we continued to pack bowls, drink and catch up. It turned out that, that particular bands last song was one of her favorites. I should mention that all the while we were chilling she would keep looking onto the crowd, she politely excused herself and said she’d just seen a side pit where she could slide into and do her thing. She was wearing a black Adidas custom skirt, her hair was done up, she quickly disappeared into the crowd, within less than two minutes she was back, she caught the tail end of the song, catching her breath she asked us if we thought her nose looked broken. We looked at her surprised and she said something to the effect of pretty much walking into a fist while on her quick trip to the pit. Before I could comfort her a random girl walked by, tapped her on the shoulder and told her, “hey good work out there, you get down!” she (my friend) just looked at us as she was rubbing her nose confirming it wasn’t broken and told the random girl, “thanks” It was at that point that I figured she knew her stuff and figured now was a good a time as any to offer to join her if she decided to go back in.
I told her ever so nonchalantly I was impressed by the strangers’ compliment; she simply smiled and brushed it off. Just before the last band came out I decided to tell her to let me know when and if she was down to rush the pit, that I’d join her, she just kind of smirked and said she’d let me know. We remained at the bottom of the hill in the park overlooking the outdoor crowd focused on the main pit in the center of the dust filled dance floor, internally strategizing hoping that at some point someone would create a small pit preferably next to the huge main one. We both suddenly pointed at the same direction and at the same time just as the band began their second or third song one of their more popular tunes, I looked at her and asked her to just say the word, she then tied her shoe laces one last time to make sure they were on nice and tight and before I knew it I found myself making sure my laces where also tight and I was off tailing her all the while putting my glasses in my pocket because part of my expertise is knowing that once I get rowdy in there my glasses are the first things to go flying and get trampled, since having met her long before, I knew she was brutal but now I’d finally get to see for myself firsthand how she held her own.
After a few courtesy, “excuse me” and “pardon me” phrases leading into the pit we broke through the barrier that housed those twenty or thirty or so souls going in a circle that were trying ever so hard to coexist and not to offend one another, I braced myself and began skanking to her lead pushing away anyone who would disrupt my rhythm. I looked up to see how my dance partner was fairing but began noticing that many of the people in that pit were quickly beginning to seek refuge outside of the danger zone and were gradually stepping to the side, by then the twenty or so souls had dwindled down to less than a hand full of only the hardcore. I looked around and there she was on my opposite end skanking/ dashing across that pit to her rhythm in her own world tremendously confident pushing and shoving any man or woman that got in her way, I began to notice a few people just outside of the pit pointing at her as if telling one another, “beware of her, she’s dangerous” then they began looking at me like I was insane for dancing so close to her knowing what she was capable of, almost fearing that I’d get hit by this woman who apparently was also familiar with the art of the skank pit. Yet, in my mind I was telling myself, “actually homie I’m dancing with her so y’all better watch out coz we’re not showing anybody sympathy and we are in our fucking element.”
Eventually on a launch from one end of the pit to the other she managed to break though the barrier separating the main pit and the pit we were initially circling, and everyone from that big pit spilled into the space provided by the now empty smaller pit. As soon as that barrier was broken it was like she was having the most fun, I saw a big smile on her face, people would try to shove her only to have her push aside anyone in front of her using their own momentum against them, we were suddenly unleashed on the big dogs and the big dogs also ended up running for shelter. Being that I’m not in the physical shape I’d ideally like to be I had to catch my breath but one cannot simply escape the pit that easily and I wasn’t about to let these people escape, so I stood on one side of the pit between the now even larger one making sure it didn’t close up so she could still have her fun taking no prisoners.
The crazy part is that this was just the second time we’d ever danced! The first was in a more subdued completely opposite environment, I remember it was at a bar in downtown with cumbias and boogaloo and even then we gradually went into finding the rhythm and began dancing in a rock steady fashion ever so cool like. On this particular evening however I’d been asked to hit the dance floor and this time around it was finally an invitation to hit the pit and skank with a rudegirl that knew perfectly well how to navigate within all aspects of a skank pit. I told her it reminded me of this one woman from over a decade ago that if she showed up to the gig it was guaranteed to be good because she’d be in that pit like she owned it, she said she’d heard that comparison before of how scenesters would tell her they knew it was a good show because she was there and was going to tear shit up in the pit for sure. I told her it was the first time in a long time that I’d danced with a girl in that fashion and with that much skill, it was almost ceremonial because as many skankers know, one wrong move while circling around and anyone of those motherfuckers could knock you of your balance and have you eating shit real quick. But that particular fear for us was far off almost nonexistent.
Needless to say when we left that circle there was a sense of relief among the bravest, they made sure she was catching her breath and out for a good while, the few that did manage to hold their own held their head high knowing that they could tell their friends that they didn’t back out or exit the pit when the rudegirl was tearing shit up. Even when we finally stepped out, there were respectful cheers coming her way, people would give her a thumbs up or say things to the effect of, “hey, you fucking kicked ass in there!” as we were walking towards a spot to catch our breath a guy walking by asked me, “hey is that the girl that was kicking ass in the pit?” I replied, “yeah” he said, “right on, she’s fucking bad!” I smiled and said, “I know.”

FOOD FOR THOUGHT

A damn shame, some starving if only there was more
Out of luck, starving not a buck to their name
Everyday living the with the working poor
Conditions aren’t fair game, too much to ignore
My good lord every night your name many do implore
Now give us a living condition we all can afford
Many of us not having graduated college
Makes us low end with no fancy degree to polish
Still we find ourselves in a system we sincerely wish to demolish
The only wisdom we adhere to is that of street knowledge
And these pains in our stomachs are not at all stylish
Yet we feed our minds what can’t be bought in college
Who would’ve thought this economy so tough to abolish
So if we play by the rules, we’re going to bend them a little
Not trying to be the head of the class content in the middle
But even that seems like a longue tying riddle
And yet through all of our losses you want us to remain civil
They ponder a new deal, while we worry about our next meal
To you surreal yet to us so real, we can’t even afford cold cereal
And this aching in our gut is quite literal, quite pitiful
Yet the attention paid to us is quite minimal
Nothing changes whether conservative or liberal
And if by chance we eat comfortably, it be a literal miracle
But I’m hungry and all I can afford is food for thought
Under paid and over worked is all us have-nots got
Just when there could be no more twists to the plot
-We also have to worry about not getting shot

Good Bye.

For all of the good times and the bad
I’m glad we had what we had
Only natural to be temporarily sad
But I hold no ill will,
I won’t take it like a bitter pill
Together too long for it to have been
Nothing more than temporary cheap thrills
It seemed like I was only dreaming of making a mill
Abusing and neglecting my god given skill
Of course I couldn't expect you to wait for me and chill
Yet it took a while to hit that you had done been split
And truth be told it did in fact for a while make me sick
In the back of my mind I thought you pre-meditative and slick
And I thought that’s what I deserved for being a dick
And I almost went back to thinking life didn’t mean shit
But I regained my senses quick enough to flip the script
And I remembered life has ups and downs
I swam these waters before and have yet to drowned
And as long as I have my health, I am safe and sound
Everything else I’ll battle in the next round
Maybe this is my therapy so I can move on and walk away
Telling myself, “it’s alright, it’s okay”
Tomorrow is another struggle, tomorrow is another day
Everything in life comes with a price to pay
And everything happens for a reason, there is never delay
The last thing I would do… is force you to stay

5:37AM

On a clear evening with the moon glowing like this
She asked me to write her a poem,
That was an offer that I just simply could not resist
By sunrise I thought of stanzas solely meant for her eyes
Yet, also worthy of a literary First Prize
Her smile still freshly sealed in my mind
I put pencil to paper and went in on my grind
Stitching together sentences hand crafted one of a kind
Making sure her essence lingered in every last line
Words swinging on a summer dance floor
Floating effortlessly through the night
On a clear evening with the moon glowing this bright
Going off feeling and not “wrong” or “right”
Words I might never publish or even recite
Finished up the poem as birds began chirping
Just before dawn
Keeping in mind like she came in,
She’ll one day be gone
So your poem now my gesture documenting when
The curiosity was active and still mutually strong

FLING

For just a few seconds I fell in love, again
And even though the feeling was a flagrant façade
She became a book I was certain I had begun reading years prior
I again pondered the perplexities of timing and fate
When what I craved were heavy words through novel,
A short story in poetic form is what I received
The story line simple, I began to feel like Pietro Crespi
And smiled to the point that my cheeks began to hurt
I said, “I haven’t smiled this genuinely in weeks if not months”
Separated by a pitcher of beer
She returned a quaint smile and said it was okay
Literature once again personified,
A path I never expect but always hope to cross
If only for a few hours, like we’d been old lovers
That never fully said good bye or never chose to make amends,
And through destinies hand casually met once again
I read her to the rhythm of a sonnet though her actions were all prose
In her gaze I felt as if years had been lived in a matter of minutes,
Over beer and conversations about words and their value
Strangers met, bonded, knew what to keep unsaid
Confronting my curiosity head on and received a welcome
Only to leave each other’s side within one literary breathe
The television on the wall showed sports highlights,
The clients in the dim room in their worlds chatting and laughing
And for a few seconds I almost fell in love again
With a short story that I never fully finished reading
A short story that sat across the table
A short story I’d promised myself long ago to complete
Temporarily stopped by a poetic fling,
I felt the need to compose for her a poem that took years to develop
And at that table presented its final draft ending
So I could finally finish the overdue book long since lost
And I did just that. No tragic ending, with my cheeks still hurting
I recited the final stanzas of a poem that to her I’m sure made no sense
Yet to me meant the return to a short story I’d almost forgotten

MIDNIGHT