D, D, D, D, Dear Dark.

In the country that I live,
the trees move when the wind
On the mountain that I face,
rocks tumble gracefully,
respecting each other's turn.
Along the river where we are,
echoes of waves fly, punctuated
with salt.
I can make images come alive
but you will not come near.
I can touch a silver cord in every animal
but birds, they fly on.
The poetry of the world
is on fire, roman candles
Every drumbeat sounds
for your birth, I have made sure of it.
And I wish that your energy
would recognize it all and appear.


NEWS: Art Show & DJ Gig

Hey y'all 
My art installation piece "A Cry for Woman" is currently up as a part of the Bushwick Open Studios in Brooklyn, at the MultiMedia, Music + Art Space XPO929
Show runs from Friday 6/3 - Sunday 6/5. 
I will be DJing the show on Sunday at 3pm. 

XPO 929  
929 Broadway
Brooklyn, NY 11206 



La Noche.

The drums sounds of a night
glistened with vintage flame
Sleepwalking, or am I?
Echoes of your bird name,
lilacs undone on the sidewalks.

I cannot lay and wake
but only with the Night,
Holy, buried Night,
Lakes, moons, swims, pianos, reverberate
Blurred, obscure.

The red dress I wore 
The suit you crumpled and crushed
In our forest, silent film,
Gestures tell secrets
Dreams of imaginary memories amplify,
“Off the map, where the wild things grow.”



Americans for Prosperity.

You and I
We will rally
for love
(for love)
for truth
(for truth)
for blue sky
(for blue sky)
for the now, 
for the why.


Swooning noir.

Beside the tidal wave of memory
your form appears,
cursed blackbird.

We knew our destiny but
You said we would do it
You wrote the words on sand 
You wrote the words with your plume hand

Years later I am here,
I am here still 
I am doing it
I am without stop,
Without tears
I am unyielding
I am eternal
I am my own world
I am alone 
Without fear
Without fear

Where are you now?
Flying above waters unknown?
Did you find escape from the escape?
Are you now pronounced in the mundane,
well versed in the everyday,
doing your best to forget the ancient language
you once spoke?

By your own hand, 
by your own black wing
you shuddered at the sound, 
shuddered at the wind,

You, chasing fugue
in your noir dreams,
You flew on
You, dreaming on the ocean
You, gone.

Down by the Water.