The Eye of the Storm

I have not written in my own voice here in a while. I just returned from a two-part vacation. The first was a short trip to Miami where oddly enough roaches were awaiting me and my travel buddies. Apparently my friend's mom rented out her condo to Oscar the Grouch. Let's just say I am thankful for the beaches, the weather and the brevity of the trip.
Judging by my Miami experience I was more than reluctant to revisit the Sunshine state. I wasn't really in the need of a vacation. I had already flown more this year than in the past two years combined, visiting my friend in Georgia earlier in February. Things were on the up and up, I was break dancing more, sticking to my open mic Thursdays, exercising, and generally enjoying life! Alas I decided to take in a new experience and enjoy some good weather in Orlando. Joe's Crab Shack, Aquattica, Universal's City Walk, and seeing my friend get shocked by a stun gun on a bet were the obvious highlights that come to mind, but I think I will remember the little things more. The peace of mind riding through stretches of highway with a view of endless horizon is something every New Yorker should have.
Running on three hours of sleep and flying into Newark to get back to Queens is weighing me down. I believe I will join my cat and take a nap in the sun. Yay, for karaoke, honesty, sincerity, new experiences, and dark chocolate bunnies...To be continued

Tetrahedron Folly

Stone weights affix to the core
symbolic of the sounds that escaped the playground
Dreary how the journey has unfolded
Scolded like a beggar unrealized
like fake gold
Take hold of the moment
that has shaped within
So heavily yet heavenly
A goal intoxicated with gin
The first steps to recovery are the
hardest to begin.

Sibling Rivalry

Blue lips in the rain create a
mysterious fog of hairspray
So relax
Bags clasped at the waist
face pulled down into a frown of sorts
Of different colored finger, nails
each represents another resentment
a failed conclusion based on
backwards enlightenment
Fly up above the stratospheres
of cumulonimbus fears
of rage, of hurt, of wait until
the right moment for just desserts; she says
as if behind a concrete veil, like swamp thing sails
into the wind, into the distance, into oneself
to emerge as one self
a cookie cutter reminder of how to lose oneself
in love, or what you thought it was
escape
whose grass roots words
were cut by the thesaurus
edited out by logic
yet emotions brought them back
from the dead