If Or Else

Intermittent Dads
That go for gold
Better win in winter
When the weather
Starts to cold
Ends are a means
To the varying unknown
Reason for converting
Expectations to a code
File after file
To an error we don’t know
Leaving our decision
To a feasible control
Meeting set for 9
To make sure we meet the goal
Miss the deadline
Make the money grab unfold
     Money doesn’t come to my account
     You’d better still be goddamned aroused
     More money being made by my spouse
     Kids better not want to be at the house
     Kids never feel at home anymore
     The echo never ends from the war
     Their wounds are a valley left to fill
     Gone dry by the damn wall they never thought they built
     Routine is a great way to cope
     Commit to education for a job you love the most
     Success isn’t anywhere
Be prepared to live a life of writing code
That would never misspell
Commands down the chain
Is the water draining well
Demands are the void
Where the hero always fell
Taking all the time to
Find the file installer
Makes the valley seem
Like it's slowly growing taller
Blocked by the view
Of your dad’s broken belt
At least they're proud
That you now make a dollar

Inktober 1: Fast

Hey everyone!

Been a while since I've updated my blogs. I've been busy with many things this year, some of which might see itself appear here!

Until then, it's October 2016 and I'll be doing #inktober this month with a poetic twist.


Departing Thoughts

The following poem was written in the spring of 2013, which was the lead up to creating my graduation film.  I explored concepts that I had never previously done that had heavily impacted my life. I thought these words were going to flow into the film, but not before long, this poem took on it's own identity.


The wayward ways a soul can go
Are things we want to explain
To theirs and our own.
Some find a familiar and some just don't
Find the difference between being told and feeling alone.

Some just find themselves left in the void.
Empty, becomes emptier, heavier and grey.
They can’t avoid the sinking feeling of dismay.
No matter how much I tell myself to stop feeling this way.
I wanna be as free as the spirits of those who left
Prolonging to live my pain with each attempt.
Breathe a lot of air hoping my soul will exhale with it too,
Steal it from me if you want, I’ll care less when I’m through
With the spiral of darkness—but clinging to obsession
A real desire to change misery to resurrection.
Because death alone is not perfection
Which is what everything needs to be—given attention.
Good is never good enough, no exception.
Countering could be and must be with his depression.
You think that you could just forget it—easily
And it might’ve done wonders in the vast expanse—memory,
And you repeat these motions every single unending day,
To find out that you’re still unhappy.
Everything, from a step to a smile,
Takes effort that comes from walking miles
To go before I sleep
In the woods, lovely, dark & deep
Less about frustration,
And more of being forgotten.
Finding a way to leave—all clean,
Without dropping them a baggage downtrodden.
Always thinking my problems aren’t significant.
Almost convinced it’s comfortable being quiet.
Oh he’s just sad again… oh I guess I am.
Over and over—compliments of etiquette.
How can this work
When self-guilt and hate stands in the way of change
Left and right blaming, not a single one ashamed.
Internalizing the pain
So it doesn’t effect others
But the pain will remain
And will just be forgotten
When there’s everything else left
To accommodate for
Living didn’t qualify—foreign to a standard.
Continuing to live, and to put himself through
Was never seen as a statement untrue.
Kept asking could, neither did understand,
Before their idealisms told him his ‘can'
Or just a bucket if you will,
Before kicking’ it got a lil’ too real.
Could have been sent a ‘do'
Or a what-you-love
Or any form of question
Or a statement
That let him know
That they were with him
That there was more
That they wanted to say
That they hadn’t before
Known his pain.
They left him with a label
That he couldn’t handle
Never raised his voice
Never called no one
An example.
For his life to have meaning.
Poor little fellow.
Giving up, giving in, not even 10 candles.
Because a moment came
When he felt no connection
With anyone
And separation anxiety's
A cycling drum
That bangs on your door
Whenever it wants--
Except when it breaks down
And takes over your life
For days or months
Years pass but of course
They won’t always tell you
If they’ve had enough.
Not when there was no one to tell him
That it’s worth it—it’s tough.
That you should be good to yourself,
Because you deserve it.
What you feel is real,
There’s a way to find yourself
Among life’s resources.
Whatever you have,
It’s definitely a curse.
And you must weather the storm.
But the forces are different
When the edges of your existence,
Can even be adorned.
There’s an endless journey of finding more
And you can appreciate it when you find
That no one else
Will get to have our persistence.
Fight for your existence, because sometimes it’s a war.
But in the end—your journey of sizing up how amazing you are. 

Father, This Is Us

Swiping through my iPod
Trying to find a new God.
Skipping church for years
So it's safe to say that I'm gone.
Swiped a twitter message
Crowd funding for Uganda
20 million followers
Tell each other that you gotta
Wrestling in a feud
Trying not to be rude.
Checking everybody's words
In case of any attitudes.
Pretty petty means going steady
Please, our royal rightness.
Never let them down,
Government, I digress.
We keep talking
And we fight so much,
When we don't
Accept change fast enough
My dad took a swig
And he passed me the bottle,
And he passed me a look-
And he regrets that I was cottled.
We're the gods of today,
Until our dreams are crushed.
We're gone-
Generation coming after us.
The last time I talked to you, God,
I was a young child willing to listen.
But it isn't even you,
With whom I feel the most distant.


A family of one.
The reconciled dirt
Has made the waters clear.
That's what I've become.
A leap and a bound-
And proud that I'm here.
But we're not done.
Consume the lesser minds
With an end that draws near.
Disarming of income.
Their hearts might start to beat
Once we remove the spear.
Our souls divine as one.
As the steps and gates of heaven
Magically appear.
I know that we're not there yet
But, we're already here.


When I said
That I wasn't coming back
I actually meant
That I'm afraid
Of turning the page
Don't worry
It haunts me, too
A dove left the branch behind
Which we then
Proceeded to eat
Just like when
We consummated
Our conceit;
Now I'm bored of you
Now that I realize
I won't leave this poem behind
That's for sure
Proof of my genius
Is meant for
A genius
And I hate you, too
And why are you still here?
And what in God's name
Are you still doing
To yourself?


I am sorry for your loss,
And for what you have to gain.
I am sorry there is pain
And am angry all the same
I am sure I can relate
To the shame of loss again
But I just can't tell you
That I've forgotten how to feel.
What do you want?
I'm here.
I am here as here is,
And here I am now that
I'm here
I just don't want to hurt you,
Because I think I'm hurt too.
Here - I'll get the door.
I'm gonna be outside a little bit more.
Wait for me inside.
I think I need a minute, too.