the stopped second hand on the clock still, flat water dancing light reflections feathers from a thousand pillows fall from the sky the night’s cold warmth opens its mystery


I started a couple challenges. One is a 30 day poetry challenge with the Escapery. Myself and other writers get a prompt a day to spark some inspiration for a raw, unedited, unfiltered poem. Ooh! My favorite kind to write! I don’t know why or how, but a couple years ago, I started this thing…


plastic granite table filled with phat beats ridge around the edge cut up yourself up when you bump and try to fill this feast of plenty feast of a thousand songs playing in plentiful unison heartbreaking to soulful whisperers in the dark in the darkness you look better you can see you how a book…

my adventure

begins with a long road i picture myself lifted up floating i know i can do this now! and my vision pierces through light and dark like an arrow that doesn’t land there is no end

pay attention

to the way in which despite the cuts from endless sources the emerging growth an interruption of thought glimmers softly along your walk please pay close attention

Writing Progress

“…previously, my process of writing mostly involved swirling down the drain of imposter syndrome while simultaneously self-flagellating until the deed was done enough. After a recovery period of varying length, I’d say, ‘hmm there must be an easier way.'”


I took a trip to Minnesota recently that came with a lot of unexpected detours. I went to celebrate my grandmother's 90th birthday and as the second stop on the Jwanouskos Ramos Wedding Celebration Tour. We had an amazing time seeing the beautiful lakes and forest areas. So green compared to California! However, the time…

ok fine i’ll write about martial arts and stuff 

You got me, Universe or whatever. I’ll write about it. Mainly because I need to get it out of my brain. I can only talk about it outloud so much before people’s eyes glaze over. No, you don’t understand! I really need an outlet, so you are it, blog. It really shouldn’t be so hard…


i’m hoping that underneath the surface  filled with storms and sharp currents fierce winds that whip cheeks heavy waves that seem to never end that there is a space of calm and depth its sophistication so intense that those who witness it would be in awe make someone look twice then dive under  deep with…

note book

there is a worn notebook collection of songs blueprints frayed at the edges from hours, days, years spent underneath the machine tinkering with word placement the edges frayed the paper sometimes coffee stained the ink runs where liquid hit the page these songs, while just created, are ancient timeless yes, this notebook is a series…