The old man spoke with him:

Remember, in a year from now, it won’t make any difference.

He knew this.  Knew he lived what he preached against.  Always the same mistakes.  Always wanting to do what he wanted.  Always doing what’s right.  Always wishing he had chose differently.  Always doing the same thing, again and again.

The girl the other night was another omen he needed to hear:

I am comfortable making “mistakes”

He now sat on the balcony of a bar overlooking Uptown,
still not wondering how he got where he was.

He knew that secret…

af

(written with pen on paper at Balcony Bar)

Just one order of beignets

I step inside,
the air conditioning whirring,
that smell
of humidity and ozone and oil and aged mold and powdered sugar

the ambiance of its antiquity
a vacation memory from when I was too young

every childhood flashback in
just one whiff

 
af

(written with pen on paper)

stare into a coffee, a brown reflection
this is what it looks like
i am not white
i am privileged
and i am hesitant to have an opinion
because so much of society right now
is trying to clear its guilt

dare to be an optimist?

who am i to stand against a world
i reap the benefits from

who am i to stand?

af

(rip eric garner)

Is it worth it?  To waste your art on commerce?
Isn’t it better to create from love and live off of
natural instincts?

But making money is what we love.
Eating and paying rent is what we prefer.
That is always the answer.

There is a necessity to place a value on ourselves,
ego-driven and righteous;
silly how we adults play these make-believe games. » Read the rest of this entry «

Critics and cynics were condemned for their annoyance
but the world got to watch peaceful football
Families were broken, displaced, exiled
but the world got suspense
Billions of dollars were spent on abandoned cathedrals
but the world got national pride
Corruption was exposed
but the world came together to condone
Too many people were beaten and killed
but the world got to eat cake.

af

(written with pen on paper)

“Suffering exists only as a state of mind.”

He said those words.  He had said them often and
he mostly believed them, too.
What wasn’t mostly was what bothered him.

“All it takes to overcome is to change your habits.”
That was his secret.
“That is my secret.  Go tell anyone.”
He would smile, like you would expect of an old-timer. » Read the rest of this entry «

she stares at me from the corner
outside, framed in shade

she stares at me through the slits in her eyes

she stares through me with
piercing lenses of a predator

setting me up for an ambush from behind

or fighting to invade from the inside

is she, or isn’t she?

will i be the guy to find out?

af

(written with pen on paper)