I don't want artificial intelligence, artificial pain, artificial love. Even the artificial flowers about us have grown weary and are dying for a touch of real mist, a drop of real rain. I don't want artificial light and artificial birds singing and aritificial poems recited by artificial poets. I don't want artificial love and friendship... Continue Reading →
Relief through Release
Think about the huge relief felt when a BIG stressor is resolved. Stress is released, and relief flows in. Releasing negative self talk leaves us energized, more confident, and less reactive to the world.
Plain Old Fashioned Donuts from a Cambodian Owned Donut Shop
With the old fashioned donut in my mind, it rolls 3000 miles and I follow counter clockwise and come to a Cambodian owned donut shop, the place with the best donuts. I buy 4 and the cashier puts it in a brown paper bag. She smiles and I tell her I can't get donuts like this in North Carolina. She wishes me a good day. I leave and the oil from the old fashioned donuts seep into the paper bag leaving spots.
Saturday Feb. 25, 2pm, Union Grove Missionary Baptist Church 901 Robinson Terrace Hendersonville, NC 28792
Asian-American/African-American Skin Stretched 3000 Miles From North Carolina to San Francisco
I bring my Asian-American, African-American skin and stretch it, knead it; taught by its tautness the poems written beneath. I am on a journey back to my skin, my San Francisco skin after being away for 4 years. I live in North Carolina, the western part of the state after a lifetime in San Francisco.... Continue Reading →
The Podcasting Learning Curve
Communication is imperative. Now is the time for all of us to grasp that we have it in our hands to restore our soil, protect our water, cool the climate and love each other. It is the job of poets and writers and singers and artists and creative people of all kinds to bring that message to popular culture or life on Earth will continue without us. People.
Airport Music On the Way to San Francisco
Yes, I remember you shooting black and brown people in the street. I remember that the city forgot its people, forgot who it was. But in this area of suspended aeronautic animation, I remember the people, the poetry, the music, the fire of Frisco that made me a poet.
Familiar food for the Latino/a/x Community in Hendersonville
From Mexico, El Salvador, Guatamala And their nopales tongues sing nopales songs and speak nopales poetry and rituals And from their hands come: Chayote Jalapenis Peras Limon Cebolla Banana Yucca Tomatillos Frijoles Arroz In a place called Hendersonville
Remember Who You Are!
You are amazing, and often forget to count the ways.