The Bed in which I Lay

The Bed in which I Lay

This is the bed in which I lay

The Egyptian cotton sheets I chose

And the new white duvet.

See here I have more feathered pillows than I have heads.

Oh yeah it’s the fanciest of beds.

The mattress is as luxurious as they come

It bends and folds, it massages and rolls.

The bed I lay on in is everything one could want in a bed

Made of premium fabrics and a well appointed base

It’s comfortable and soft, big enough to move around on.

But premium always comes with a price to pay

And my bed’s downfall is the costs to lay 

The expense sometimes outweighs the comfort

And other times afflictions don’t abate

The abundance of relaxation presumed is at times an illusion 

And still I wait

For I yearn to sleep 

A peaceful rest on a well deserved bed.


The Road

I looked behind me and I see the road I’ve traveled, I look in front of me at the road I’m yet to journey on. 

Behind me is my youth and all the things I have done; my accomplishments, my pain, my happiness, my mistakes. In front of me is everything yet to come. 

And I wonder what the future holds as I age.

I wonder of my health and of my financial stability. And while I wander of my future I think of my past, I think of the choices I’ve made and the road I have taken. 

And I think of how all of this affects where I’m at now.

Am I satisfied? Do I have enough to go on? And if I think I want more, how much more do I need? And if I think I want less how much less can I use?

 And I think of the two little ones that I helped bring into this world. 

And I think of their future and my place in it. I think about how I will influence their life with you my love.

Together we are sharing the present and remembering the past while we plan for the future. Together as we go on in age and on this path, we have our little ones now. Intrusted to us by God, we are their guides. 

How will we influence their lives?

Standing still I look from front to back. I can say I’ve been blessed but I hunger for more: more experiences with our children and more life with you; more time and more tomorrows.

Then my thoughts turn back to you.

Standing still, I remember what you said, “together we can accomplish anything but we have to stop fighting. Constant movement and forward gain.”

And you are right, we are good together.

Together we can accomplish what we both want in life. Together we can do it all. Together we can make our children happy and ensure they have a love for God.


People always say marriage is hard work and it’s tough. But it’s tough because I need to move past myself. I need to live for someone else and that someone else live for me.

I need to allow you to love me.

So on this road I take your hand and we both carry our children with us. For I know I’m not alone on this road I travel. My love, my inspiration, my rock is there traveling it with me.


The energy doesn’t flow there 

It never gets through 

Its like a door that doesn’t open 

Or a tightly sealed vault.

I can do all the prep work 

But can’t follow through,

I can do all the research and gain the know-how

But it’s all that I can do.

The end of a project 

The finish line is always the goal

But something inside me hinders me from completion

It’s like I can’t follow through.

What is this invisible force that stops me?

What is this power controlling my psyche? 

Unknowing yet powerful enough to deter me

Almost like I never want to say goodbye To all the hours spent 

Creating is what I like to do but I hate being done with it

And start on something new.

Magnificent Pieces



swimming in a void



making something new.



elements of our souls



pieces of me and you



a self aware adventure of creation



processes become anew



beings like me and you

together, yet apart

one, yet separate

joined forever by the anther around us

joined forever by the creation that’s me and you.



A Reflective

I can’t disolve

I can’t disavow 

The Rita Hayward or Emily Dickenson of it all

My heart is gone like Glen Miller’s band,

And the Moonlight Serenades on the ocean and the sand

Oh Poe will there ever be an end?

Or am I destined to endure this torture to my end?

The cask is full but my bottle empty

It’s the black and white movie of my life 

And Marlene Dietrich is the starring actress

While Barbara Stanwyck plays my muse and Billie Holiday sings the blues,

“All of me, why not take all of me?”

Yet the girl in me hides behind the shroud

While the woman stands firm and tall to confront it all.

The ocean itself isn’t big enough. The universe not grand enough.

And the bird goes on singing in its cage.

His name is Jay

I was twelve years old the first time I met him. Or maybe I was thirteen, I can’t remember. But one thing I do remember and that I’ll never forget is that I hated him from the very start. From the first moment we ever shared, negativity filled the atmosphere between us and the stars misaligned against us.

“Hello” he said.

All I could do was only glare. Who was this skinny little boy who dared to speak to me? How dare he! So I said nothing. Maybe he will go away.

“My name is Jay.” He said as he sat down across from me on the bench. We were in the back yard of my grandparent’s house in Moreno Valley. My cousin Henry brought him over with him. I suppose it was just to bug me because here he was taking up space in a backyard that was nearly 1/2 acre. No matter how big that yard was, it wasn’t big enough to move this Jay out of the way. Why did he have to pick me to talk to?

“Go away.” I replied rudely, “Henry, come get your friend.” I yelled towards the white screen door that led into the dinning room. I was trying to be melancholy by myself before this stupid kid starting bothering me. I think I was listening to  Nirvana or some other kind of grunge band on the radio. We used to record music from the radio stations back then and so I was listening to a tape I made. When you made a tape, you had to time it just right so that you could get the whole song minus the DJ’s voice. Sometimes they came out good and other times the stupid DJ messed up the beginning or the ending of the song with their voice so you would have to rewind the tape and try again. There were no internet music streaming in those days, only tapes and music that played thirty times a day but you had to catch the right time to record them so you could make a “mix tape” of all your favorite bands. It was a tedious process but it was one that I liked and did often because we were poor and I didn’t have money to actually buy any of the songs. Besides, music was my outlet as it is for youth, year after year.

He got up when Henry came outside, “come on dude.” Henry said to Jay and they both went back inside the house. I didn’t like my cousin’s friends for some reason. I’m not sure why I instantly didn’t like any of them but of all the friends he had over the years, there was something about this Jay character that I hated most of all. There was something about him that made me want to push away from him or run away if I could.

They say a first impression lasts a lifetime or something like that. This first impression is the only one that I’ve never forgotten. Maybe because he never let me forget or maybe I didn’t want to forget either.

Jay didn’t seem to bother anyone else as much as he bothered me. It wasn’t that he was constantly pestering me or trying to talk to me or doing stupid little kid things to make me mad. No, the mere presence of him made me mad and knowing it made me madder. In fact, the same day I met him, my aunt Velia told me to be nice to him because he was Henry’s friend. All I could do was scowl at the idea but I knew I had to leave him alone so I did jus that but his eyes made me uncomfortable and I hated knowing when he was looking at me. My grandparents liked him. Whenever he came over their house with Henry he would sweep the floors or take out the trash for my grandmother. What an ass! I thought he was always trying to kiss ass for some reason. I didn’t know why but apparently he was raised to “help out” whenever he saw an opportunity to do so.

You could say that I was a troubled young girl. In fact, you would say just that. It was the early 90’s and I wore things like chains, black boots, and polo shirts (before they got all fancy and expensive). I couldn’t afford Doc Martins but I always wanted a pair. We were poor and I grew up on the system. What does that mean? That means I grew up on the “government handout” welfare program. I hated it. I hated a lot of “facts” when I was young. I hated knowing that we were poor and couldn’t afford to even have yogurt in the house. I hated the fact that my parents were divorced. I hated living in a small 2 bedroom apartment with my three younger sisters and that I had to play “mom” when our real mother was at work. I hated having to get after them to do their homework and their chores. I hated the thought that my mom had done nothing in her life and that I was destined to do the same because that’s how statistics work and they were against me. I hated the fact that she loved a man that cheated on her and that she was now raising the four of us on her own while he remarried and lived in a home and supported his new family. I hated that they probably got to have yogurt and fruit snacks while I could only dream about having the same. I hated that my mom always cooked chicken. I got so burned out on chicken that when I was a teenager, I stopped eating it for years. Most of all I hated my life and tried to escape it in every way that I could.

So when this dreaded Jay came into my life it was like he unknowingly uprooted a bunch of feelings and things I didn’t like. He created a ripple in my timeline that didn’t correspond with the world around me or the one that I was creating. He invaded my space without actually invading it and just became someone I could hate in the sea of things I already hated. In fact, every time he was around it was as if a disruption in the Force just occurred. He didn’t have to look at me, he didn’t have to say “hi” to me to disrupt the Force. He just had to be there to make it go chaotic with his stupid boy haircut that was almost like a Beatles bowl haircut but not as cool because the sides of his head were shaved so his brown hair just lay stupid on top of his head. He was skinny and I thought his boyish face was ugly when in reality it wasn’t.

And so it was the beginning of a lifetime of crashing with someone that I learned to love, hate, admire, and cherish.

The Lonely Hunter

Tell me a story
A story about you
But don't tell me what I want to hear
Tell me what is true.

Tell me where you've been and where you want to go
Tell me about that one time...
And the other time no one knows.

Tell me something funny
If you know any good jokes
I'm only looking for reasons to not like you
And reasons to not stay.

For it has gotten complicated,
Seeing you every day
You hardly even noticed me
Until that one day.

I thought this would be easier 
To pick your brain for information about you
So that I would stop wanting to be close to you
And go on without you.

But talking to you is sometimes like talking to a wall
And words I want to say don't come out at all
And sometimes I can have whole conversations with you
But only in my mind

The reality of things is far different
From what I hide inside
And so I go on trying to not like you
But I can't stop looking your way

You haunt me in my dreams
And also during the day.

So it is true what they say
About love and about other thing
The truth goes unspoken and
The Heart's a lonely hunter.