i spoke this poem into the voice recorder on my phone while driving into work about three months ago. i finally wrote it down. it’s not perfect and probably shouldn’t be posted, but i like first drafts. they are like paintings or drawings, where you cannot erase. anyway, here it is word for word as i spoke it into my phone’s recorder:

when the time comes to rise
the sea will fall and
indecisions will come from the sky

always waiting for the tipping point
for you to come back around to me
and me back around to you

mixing up the moments
we’ve created colors
that never should have existed between us

i saw it then
we see it now

never being able to express beyond myself
my skin, a sound proof shell

I’m starting to realize that I don’t give myself enough time to think, feel and experience. I’ve become disconnected from life. I’m in this pattern of waking, then driving, then working, then driving, then eating, then drinking, then sleeping. The mediocrity of it all leaves me drained, depressed and disconnected. Disconnected to the point that I rarely speak and I’ve begun to fear interactions with people that are unfamiliar to me. I’ve ceased to actively engage life. This has become more and more apparent to me now that my spice, the one aspect of my life that was vibrant and rejuvenating, has gone.

The time has come for new patterns to emerge. Earning a decent salary is not the most important thing in the world. I proved this to myself when I was working at the deli, barely making any money. Yet, I felt more circular happiness then than I have ever felt in my adult life. I think it was because that job returned time to me. I could leave and not have to commute or think of the work. Most afternoons were mine, I could read, write, and contemplate at coffee shops or wherever. I had begun to feel fulfilled. I had begun to break away from linear thought. I had begun to be creative. I need to find that roundness and fluidity again. My reoccurring patterns are broken. I’m tired of this robotic life. Something needs to change.

Give me the hurt, the sorrow, the pain.
Reset happiness and break patterns.
A new road needs to be paved.

Go-Tart Commercial

Budweiser Wasssup Commercial

Mack 10 Video Only in California
I’m really happy I found this video, I think it’s one of the only acting gigs that my Dad has done and hasn’t seen.

There are many moons,
Between what we want and need.
Knowledge, transform pain.

I’m leaving today for the backpacking survival course that I booked a year ago. Hopefully it will be a cool as it sounds! I’m not allowed to really bring anything with me for the 6 day trek. As the trip progresses the guides are supposed to even take away more equipment! I’m excited and sad and slightly nervous. Well, I’m going to jump through a shower then I’m out the door. I’ll write more about the trip once I get back.

This is one of the last poetry readings I’ve done. I’m performing here with the house band, including some members of the now defunct band “Headroom”, at a reading at Nicholby’s in Ventura.

The poems performed in this reading were written during the time I lived in Connecticut. The first poem I read is the last poem I wrote in California before driving to the east coast with Damien, the middle is what I wrote while I was there. The reading finally comes to a conclusion with the first poem I wrote after returning to California.

There is some fun drunken footage before and after the reading that I hope you enjoy!

Here’s a poetry reading that I did in Santa Barbra back sometime in 2000/01. Damien filmed it from the audience.