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if i had waited another half-sec, i woulda caught all of shorty’s shadow and had the pic i really wanted. at least i was able to fight off my initial instinct of asking him to run along the concrete divider so that it would add more danger to the pic. jus jokes.

takin a break from writing a new poem to say whats up and to let ya know jus cuz you cant see me, dont mean i cant see you.

case in point: dreamt the other night about calling up an nyc buddy to hang cept i was calling him at his san fran number. huh? yeah.

apparently in the dream, he was now living in san fran but it gets even better when i tell him that i am going to visit him at the crib and he tells me not to bother showing up there cuz hes planning on movin his stuff very soon. note that he tells me his stuff and not that hes actually changing residence. well, at least im noting that as i call him the next day (this is happening in the waking world. confused? yeah, me too, sometimes.) any ways, i call him up and straight up ask– are you planning on moving? no, scratch that. are you plannin on movin *stuff*? answer: yep.

apparently mah boy is involved in getting some items moved from their current place of rest to a new place of rest which may or may not be where he is stayin which is cool enough since his soul travels a bit anyways.

you would figure that if i started a post about a real actual picture with concrete objects that i might just write something a bit less nebulous.

love ya like a cup of tea loves a reflection

World Cup Germany 2006: Ecuador-Costa Rica

highlights from yesterday’s game. sadly, no footage of the yellow spiderman mask donned after the third gol was scored.

i am cheering on trinidad & tobago in their match against england. a part of it had to do with the fact that i wouldnt mind seeing the brits get trashed by a former colony (karma, yes, i think i will call it karma) but more so cuz of the fact that rog has made trini come alive in his poems & he throws fly parties with much rum. and that lynne has made trini come alive in her poems, throws fly parties with much rum AND introduced me to mac & cheese with mustard, home made jerk chicken with papaya salsa, and roti.

ecuador works its way into the next round of the world cup in impressive fashion over a squad that got to score two gols on germany in the opening matches. you folks can not imagine what its like in ecua right now. its winning every city in the country winning the super bowl– twice in one week.

Ecuador 3 – 0 Costa Rica
A mightily impressive display made history for Luis Fernando Suárez’s side as they romped into round two.
Minute-by-minute report

in the last week or so, i have experienced four dreams where i am definitely being “taught” a thing or two about poetics

dream #1
i am sitting at a cafe table workshop desk and the question arises
“why don’t you use more ‘dangerous’ language in your poems?”

this setting is in sharp contrast to a similar actual life (i am shying away from calling the waking world the “real world” and my dream world something else) experience where i was asked why i didn’t incorporate more humor into my work. the advice was good advice as the two poets dispensing it – omar & ed – both knew me pretty well in my on & off stage personas (again with this duality thing… uhmm, lets not stray off topic much) and were helping me try to blend these two personae into a more authentic “poetic” voice (yes, i know i am dogging out the quotation marks as well)

meanwhile, back at my sub-conscious, i know the speaker is a poet who revels in the use of dangerous language and how much attention it brings to any and all situations and would love nothing more than to clone another poet who wields dangerous language in the air like a large picket sign at a rally of one
*Speak loudly and wield a polysyllabic stick*

and now the setting has morphed back into a cafe like setting with me sippin quite leisurely on a nice warm cup of coffee and reply in my most calmest tone
“i prefer writing about tenuous/difficult situations that have an inherent sense of danger or mystery in the actual event and try to write these situations with everyday language to help highlight the fact that its not the players who bring the drama but the scenarios themselves” or something like that

then, fully aware that this has all been just a nice case of my “other” coming out in my REM sleep, i fall back into the ether and continue sleeping on through the night