wont stop loving
wont stop caring
wont stop hurting
wont stop
wont
stop!

wont stop wanting
what you got
wont stop you
from what is not
let you be
let it be
wont stop
loving

have no regrets
for expressing
the self
i used to repress.

no reason for me to be here
if you’re not coming home.

make the final step
toward total Kerouacian/Bukoswkianism
and bum around the world
alone
with utter disregard…

Go brawl all those
straight edge faggot boys
in Boston while
wearing a Yankees hat,
become drunken
streetfighting poet
(no one would ever know (it)),
and i got the gracie jiu-jitsu
to fuck up any man
who doesn’t know it…

Drop myself off in Moscow
and backpack through
Europe
to Italy and
take a ferry to
Messina
and Cacamo,
and see my
ancestral land
on my way
back home,

across the world;
i’ll
make my way back,
got no one to come home to
got no attachments.

god damn me
for reading the “razors edge”
when i was 17,
lonely,
falling into isolation,
turning down beautiful girls’
offers for prom dates
out of some ridiculous pain filled
sense of ‘fuck everyone,’
even those
who wanted to love me.

i could never be that way again
i’d rather feel helplessly in love
than repress my emotion
and let myself
be that way
again.

making survival difficult
makes me feel alive
given so much freedom
and oppurtunity
i can see
the entities
that want to enslave me.

dull
the pain
of my elite aloneness
for a moment.

i got too much life to live
to waste it

got to live life now
got to taste it

got no more time
to waste
it.

exploring
real streets
of moscow
of prague
or amsterdam
increases my
survival difficulty
but i really want to see
the real thing
and walk down
the alleys of the world
feeling the real thing.

whole lot of muay thai
going on in amsterdam,
makes for interesting street fighting.

i wont look for trouble,
but in those places
being a lone American,
thing’s can happen…

Suppose i don’t know what love is?
Could i be your Anti-Valentine?
Even Forrest Fucking Gump
knew what love is.

just kind of yeah
just kind of

i’ve been told
i’ve been
but it
seemed
only meant
for then.

i’d rather suffer
than ever settle.

so this is my valentines poem.
a bunch of shit.

people trying to find love
on the radio
as i write this,
what a bunch of sad shit,
so i change it.

i’d be settling
with anyone
but
you
got
no love
for me

so i say
whatever
and got this infinite heart of mine
locked away from being used,
got this heart put away,

i may seem unguarded in poetry,
but my God
i don’t want to give my heart to anybody.

I love you more than
the ocean loves the
Earth–
I want to be a
part of you
like water
is to Earth,
I want to flow
through you,
I want to
commingle
with
your existence
and fill your rivers
and valleys
and lakes
and oceans
with the
rain of my love.

Lunada Bay

my
old
thinking spot
on the edge
of the
cliff

watch longboarders
floating beyond
short boarders
battling
for waves.

good waves
today

the sky’s blue
and
the winds
so still
the smog of LA
lines the horizon
turning Catalina
into an
Atlantis
consumed by an evil fog.

II.

an elderly couple
sit in chairs
on the edge of the
cliff–
her water bottle
has a sticker that says
“life is good.”

getting back to
the place i was
a
silent
observer
poeticizing
my existence
sitting crosslegged
on the edge of the cliff–

got no one here
who wants my love
except me,
so I see myself
disappearing,
I’m 27,
and i’m beginning to outlive
my heroes.
maybe someday
i’ll reappear
as a real human being
as transparent as
i seem to be.

got no one here
who wants my love

gonna dissappear
and wander

got no one here
who will miss me
when i’m gone.
i’m not gonna break
anyone’s heart

i got no fear
of
dying
alone
like
a
bodhisat.

III.

I see myself
on the edge of the cliff,
looking down
out over
the ocean
and all that
matters to me
is that i love
everybody
around me.

keep my
self
from
falling
got
good balance,
standing,
sitting
on the edge,
watching longboarders
riding waves
like my mind
riding waves
of thought
that flow from
the ocean
of soul inside me
in tune with the
afternoon tide

rolling
building
curling
and i’m
shooting
the
curl,
touching the wall
with my pen,
as the
poetry chases
me
crashing behind my mind
rolling
ashore
to where
i’m
a child
playing
in the tide
of my imagination…

my imagination…
was
the one thing
as a child
i promised
myself
never to lose.

The world is a funny place
so i laugh
at tragedy
and cry out
“The world’s filled with life!”

and i live
because everything
is born to die.

The world is a tragic place
so i cry
for happiness
and laugh
“The world’s filled with death!”

and i die
because
living
was always
a path
to death.

destroyers
think they have
the power
if they cant break you
then they
got no power,
if you know how to
defend yourself
then they
can’t
beat you,
they’ll have
to learn
how to love you
because
they couldn’t
hurt you
if they
tried.

i can take poverty
i can take struggling
i can take heart break
i can take anything–

but all i want to do
is
make
love.

Wearing my hoodie
and my jacket
train kinda crowded
with tired people
entering Compton station.

Sitting here
writing words
from my groggy mind
writing words
is all
i got.

103rd St.

Drop you off
on 103rd St.
see if you can
survive
walking through
destitute streets
filled with crime
created by
a civil war
on the poor.

War on poverty,
war on drugs,
war on
war.

War
war
war
it’s like a Chinese word;
Wor-Wonton soup please.

Vivid
gangster tags
let you know
where you is,
scrolling by
all the way downtown.

I look out the window
on the sullen city
and
long for a winsome
world…
long for a…
left unloved…
uhh…
stop thinking about my losses
and my longings

my dreams…

I lost you
a long time ago.
Me?
I’ve lost me before too,

all i can
is do
and let

too close
to my heart
to ever forget

i need to feel
so bad again
i can’t hold on
to what i never had.

going home

3 ghetto girls
sit across from
me
they don’t
see a
poet,
just
a
big dude in
black hat
writing like
a maniac
like
KARRAK!!!!

I can feel them
looking at me
got my head down
writing on
a notepad
with the face of a
Japanese real estate agent
from Gardena
smiling at me
and it makes me
think
we’re all the same
but i’m the only white person
riding
on the train
and i’m so unafraid of
anyone in this world
taking
my life
from
me,
won’t let it happen;
can’t believe
i’m afraid
of what you could do to my life
how you could change my life
afraid of feeling something
for someone
who could truly love me.

I can’t say anymore,
no more words can express
the pain i suffer from
my loneliness.