Happy Endings

Greetin's and all that jazz, dear readers. How the hell are ya? I'm fine; thanks for asking. I know... I should have updated on Saturday... but shit happens. The shit can be generally summed up as alcohol. Too much alcohol. I was done a couple times over. That night I went to a sushi at a friends house. In Harlem. I know... Harlem and Sushi are not two ideas you'd typically link together. Nevertheless, it was a sushi and saki party in Harlem... on a Friday night.
I didn't really touch the saki. I'm not big on it. I did, however, annihilate about two bottles of plum wine. Throw in a couple shots of gin, a couple cups of cranberry and vodka, a shot of jose, a few beers and a glass of henny [more or less in that order] and you have one fucked up River Man.
One of the good outcomes, though, was a connection. I met some guy who'd lived in France and got involved with the whole Parkour scene. A scene I've been trying to dive into for about 3 years now. He seems interested in making a crew and getting some things done -- we'll see if it all pans out.
So, needless to say, Saturday was spent in recoup. Saturday night I had some 'hair of the dog' therapy. D and I killed a half a bottle of Patron.
Sunday... I don't know what the hell I did Sunday. Damn memory problems...

Fun fun. Onward with the piece.

10,957

Turning Thirty
felt wrong.
At 12:00 AM I recalled
a drunken conversation
from years before.
"Guys like us...
We ain't meant to make it to 30."
We'd laugh
proud of the prevalence
for a early demise
in our world.

Jay lived up to his word
taking 2 shots in the chest
at twenty-three.

Hector overdosed at twenty-four
speedballing in his mothers house
at 2 in the morning.

Eddy was convicted at twenty-five,
25 to life.
He lost the latter at twenty-eight
over a lunch tray.

Rich almost made it,
twenty-nine,
-- at least he left a son behind.

12:00 AM
and I wondered why
I was still alive.
At every funeral
the preacher repeated
"The good die young."

I found myself
repeating their words.

Heylo all. Happy Saturday and such. How was your week? I've been burnt out for the most part this week. Work, class and personal jazz.
It would appear I'm facing the music of my last fucked up semester in a number of ways. Beside the blow to the GPA and the extended time of schooling, I also owe the bastards extra money that must be paid before the start of the fall semester. Whoo-hoo. This is what I get for a series of shitty decisions. Here they are, in 'never do this' form.
A) Never allow the burned out friend whom you know to have become a loser since the days of yer youth crash at your place for an extended period of time.
    The River Man allowed an old pal to call the River Pad home for far too long. This led to our River Man's mind reverting to that of a 15 year old substance abuser. Only, the matured parts wouldn't allow anymore hardcore substance abuse, so our dear River Man became an alcoholic for a wee-bit. No No for real life.
B) Never begin to hang out with the burnt out friends new friends.
    This one was straight logic... shit attracts flies. Neither are the better in that scenario. But, alas, our foolish River Man dove headlong into the pool of irresponsibility and almost drowned because of it. Fucking idiot.
C) Always keep your number one goal your own advancement.
    I knew this... but ya know what. I said fuck it to the whole thing. Not an excuse. A sad truth.

But... I'm back motherfuckers. You may all return to your places of River worship. (Missed me, didn't ya?)

Cold

He couldn't disappear,
He was already gone
long before I was ever born.
The news caught up with me
at noon.
I was working then
cleaning buildings in the city
for shit pay
when she called
Hysterical.
I cried for her,
but made sure not to shed a tear
for him.

I created stories in my mind
beside his box
of the honorable man laying
on the maroon satin lining.
Tailored fine memories
of basketball games
and fishing trips
and anything I could think of
to later tell my children.
"My father took me hiking
when I was your age."
I'd lie, so they could feel involved
in some long standing tradition.
So I could feel he wasn't just
some household accessory all those years.

But the truth will remain the truth
whether dressed in fancy red satin
or cheap, knotted pine.

To keep up though, here is a pre-edit piece.

A Decent Earning

Summer heat
Window ajar and welcoming
every manner of summer insect
with half the sense to follow
the seductive flickering of
a candle by my windowsill.
Lit for the sake of scent, I claim
but in truth, I care little for
the vanilla rising from its flame.
I light it for the excuse
to touch the books of matches
strewn across my room -
relics of a past cast aside.
I no longer long for tobacco
(most of the time)
The oral fixation is gone
The tactile fixation is gone
I do so miss the lighting, though.
Primitive desire, I suppose
but in our modern world
fire
hands on fire,
is preserved for survivalists
and country homes.
And the striking of a match
serves to satiate my
city boy pyro blues.

Gwan Do Ya Ting

'Eylo all. Happy Saturday. How was the week to ya? Pleasant, I hope. Mine was just fine. A decent mix of work and play. Made some purchases this week, most of which were wholly unnecessary, but would I truely be the River Man if, in times of manic upswing, I didn't buy some shit I didn't need? Please, don't strain yourselves. The answer is no. Luckily, I was in control enough to not make major purchases, as I have in the past. Though, in defense of myself, most of my major purchases turned out to be good ideas: A new computer (this one), A new computer for my sister (aw, isn't he so sweet?), that bottle of Henny XO (mmmm, that was a good buy). On the other hand, I've had some notably stupid and unnecessary buys: The TV incident (two large TVs, two days - one tiny apartment...), the couch incident (I thought it would fit in my house, I really did...) and other such gems.
The purchases this time, though, are minor... sort of. The biggest buy and thus making it the most unnecessary is the new phone I bought. Pantech Duo. After rebates and discounts for upgrades, I will have spent about $200. Did I need a new phone? Not really. Did I need a smartphone? Nope. Did I even want it when I put the order through? Eh.. sort of. If I come to my senses, I'll sell it this week.
I also got a juicer, as part of my new 'must get healthy' kick. I quit smoking, started doing some of my old calisthenic routines, took up boxing for endurance, and have now begun drinking fresh made veggie/fruit juice mixes. I used to be is such great shape, it pisses me the hell off. If I flex, I can still see 3 or 4 of my once chiseled 8 pack. My obliques have long since vanished into obscurity. Arms lost all sense of definition, forearms shrunk a good 3 inches beside losing definition... so on and so forth throughout the River Man entirety.
I don't understand how I let it happen, either. I used to enjoy working out. Time to enjoy it again. And to drink some fresh juice after... yeah, we'll see if that part happens.
Other purchases: RAM, a SD card for the phone, a decent luggage set (for all my travels), a new hoodie (mind you... it's summer), boxing equipment, and something else... I just can't think of what the hell it is. Eh, money comes - money goes. I just gotta learn to slow down the going.

Today's piece is proof that I don't let these rough drafts rot on this blog; I edit damn near ever poem I post on this site. Some I edit a few times. Some I scrap, and they remain here like ghosts. This piece was posted some time ago, edited a while back too, but... it's proof. So, yesh, enjoy.

Late Night Drive

Hung over
Chasing phantoms in a
Fog covered field
Grass flicking morning dew
Onto my feet.

Mem’ries rise like
Clouds of smoke
And lines of white
Draping the sky in
Love lost
Longed for
Hung
From Orion’s belt

Dangling
Dangling in the cold moonlight
Peeking through the trees
Caressing the crowded leaves
And love’s lonely toes.

Love’s stolen bones,
In heaps beside unruly bushes,
Reek of horse manure
and mint leaves.

And youth…
Laughs at me.
Giggling somewhere unseen
Strung to a lattice
Of painted metal beams;
Crimson metal beams.

A lone thought, amidst the scenery, summons me:

OF all the things I’ve been
I think I liked myself the most
   And I wish so goddamn hard
     That I could find him
       Out here
         In this haze.

I just read the last poem to myself a couple times and laughed. I make a reference to my long hair in that poem, a reference so rarely made in my work and a reference never before posted here. I laughed because I recently cut my hair for the first time in 8 years -not counting trimmings to make sure it didn't go too far down my back. So yesh, The River Man has short hair now. An inside joke, I suppose, but nevertheless I laughed. And now you know.

Twenty-Two

They call me a dreamer
because I believe in the sky
and dangle lines of verse
from the stars at night.
But how would it feel
to grow old and die
without a destination in mind?

I don't want to know.

Trust Your Intuition... The Universe Is Guiding Your Life

EDIT: I'm getting a lot of traffic to this page because of the title. If you did google that amazing saying up there, do not be disappointed. Look around the blog. The poem in this post is admittedly subpar, but it was posted for a purpose. Click on the huge banner and scroll a bit. In the end though, if you don't like the vibe, trust your intuition. It won't steer you wrong.

'Ello River fans. Happy June. Sorry for the hiatus again, life can be a time consuming sunuvabich sometimes. It's been very strange in River land... every time I'm inspired to write, all I write are stories. This isn't too bizarre, as I've always enjoyed writing short stories, but normally their appearance was evenly dispersed amongst the poems. Stories have been dominating lately. It might have been due to my shot at screen writing, a side project I'm still half engaged in. My first film idea has shifted dramatically from its origins. Maybe I'll post some scenes on here after I shoot them.
So far as the old writing a moleskine worth of poems a month, I figure I'll get back to that sometime in July. I forgot how easy it is to be prolific when you have nothing else to do. Last year this time I essentially said 'Fuck the world' and went on a literary journey. I wrote a lot, but got very little done in real life. Reminded me of the movie Pinero - "Anyone can be an amazing poet if they have no responsibilities." That might not be the exact quote... but you get the point. So, upon returning to real life, I have been shell shocked in my writing.
I somewhat fear for the future of my work. I'm going after a doctorate... that can't be good for the free time deal. Eh... there is balance in everything that requires balance. I'll find a way.

Cold Tea

And she wonders why I want her heart.
She seems confused by all the things I do.
Searches for the motive behind this dance...
But I can hardly explain myself these days
-A clever ruse to guard my chest.
She presses on and questions my intentions,
Demands to know what I want from her.
When I answer "You"
She seems suspicious
of this long-haired Latino's sentiment
and asks again
"River Man,
          Why is it my heart you wish to have..?"

Because you already have a hold on mine.