Left for Death: A Zombie Apocalypse Song*

*This song was inspired by the LEFT FOR DEAD video game series...it has a real bluesy thing going on in it...

Did you look outside
To see the buildings crumbling?
Did you walk out the door
Into the smoggy sky?
Now, did you look around
To see the sidewalks cra-a-acking?
And did you smell the stench
Of bodies decaying
While your heart is praying...

Help me.
Help me.
Is there anyone alive
Who can help me to survive?
Help me. Help me. Help me. Help me.
I can't do this by myself.
So, is there someone who can help me to...
Survive. Ay-ay-ay-ay-alive. Oh, alive.
Alive. Ay-ay-ay-ay-alive. Oh, alive.

Did you feel the chill
That cloud of death closing in on you?
Did you kill a man
Rotting from the inside out?
Did you abandon every dream that you had
For despair and death, just getting through the day?
Did you leave behind everyone you know and love
To kill some demon-child, flesh-eating, hellspawn, crazy
Motherfuckers...

Is there no one to...
Help me.
Help me.
Is there anyone alive
Who can help me to survive?
Help me. Help me. Help me. Help me.
I can't do this by myself.
So, is there someone who can help me to...
Survive. Ay-ay-ay-ay-alive. Oh, alive.
Alive. Ay-ay-ay-ay-alive. Oh, alive.

Skin is...trembling.
Eyes are...burning, filling up with tears.
Feet are...killing me,
But they're not alone.

Skin is...tremmm-b-ling.
Eyes are...burning, filling up with tears.
Feet are...killing me,
But they're not a-lone.

Help me, help me, help me, help me...help me.
Is there anyone alive
Who can help me to survive?
Help me, help me, help me, help me...help me.
I can't do this by myself.
So, is there someone who can help me to...

Help me.
Help me.
Is there anyone alive who can help me to survive?
Help me. Help me. Help me. Help me.
I can't do this by myself.
So, is there someone who can help me to......

the beauty of the bay: a poem*

*written after an eeeearly morning trek to LAX and flight and BART ride and then...a sweet smoke sesh.

vast flows of crisp white marzipan
hover and float through the bay
that huge thumbprint in the middle
of the north of california

you welcome me back
remind me of my insignificance
my infinitesimal minuteness

thick masses of damp colorless fog
crowd the cemented slab streets
wet with weather, that bay area aesthetic
glossy and wet in the north of california

you welcome me back
remind me of my ambition and vigor
the seemingly unlimited energy of my youth

and i feel the tremble of life
the cold sting of the edge
i do not amble through your streets
i walk, fully walk, encapsulate that which it is to walk
i live, i thrive, i move move on
and i am reminded
in the quietness of the just-after-dawn morning
the invigorating moistness of the dewy air wetting my lungs
when my fingertips instantly freeze
hot pink joint cherries
rushing blood throughout my body
i am reminded of the sweet contradictions in life
i am reminded to embrace them
i am reminded to forgo being right
i am reminded to attend to my authenticity
i am reminded to be whole
i am reminded to share myself
i am reminded to love the joyful tragedy of life
and i am again reminded
as this naturo-urban landscape consistently does
to find peace in the justifying end of death

you welcome me back
and it feels good to be back

A Nighttime Photo Shoot

Hey there,

So...I randomly had a nighttime photo shoot with 2 of my roommates an a friend. I styled and shot most of the photos. Below are some appetizers...let me kno what you think?**

**Please refrain from hateful speech. You know better. Thanks! GIMME FEEDBACK!

The link to the full album is right here: http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=3683016&id=732231890&fbid=228222066890#/album.php?page=1&aid=144128&id=732231890













-WOO

half moon glow: a poem

the moon out tonight
veiled behind ashy-colored wet clouds
glowed an ambient caramelized hue

a half moon
a cracked-apart reminiscence of itself
an old family car sitting on blocks
half its parts missing

i saw it while driving
i truly took note turning left
down a long straight street

it was imperative to write it down
something
so i did

8 o'clock, a Sunday morning

half inside-out socks crumpled beside the hamper
still-tied tie strung from the edge of the desk
keys tossed onto loose-leaf sheets strewn about the carpet
jacket and shirt balled in the seat of a couch
a quarter-full glass of water clumsy on a dripping nightstand
glasses on the floor
face buried in cotton
white-crusted stains of slumber-produced saliva cover dark pillowcases
the coughing of an entire pack of Reds smoked
the aching of hard-lived bones
muscles throb with the night before
bright yellow light slips through Venetian blinds
warmth settles on the eyelids and slumber is broken
a throb in the back of the mind
blurred memories of a flurry of sweat and motion
the reminiscence of the smell of dancing bodies
concern over what was left behind
I.D? Wallet? The tab...open?
legs struggle for comfort in a still-worn pair of dark denim
belt undone yet still looped, fly and button too
subtle tones of dark ale and vodka tonics emerge
from fraying cuffs and washcloth thighs
the scent of lemon still lingers stickily on the fingertips
the haphazard morning after a night of focused debauchery