All the things


You were brave enough

Gathered your thoughts

But as usual, were too stubborn

Your eyes betrayed you

There was no hiding your meaning

When you uttered those three words

Every day we collect more of the things


A full life


I normally write poems here, but I wanted to leave something said so that, should I be “called home”, there could be no ambiguity to this subject. I am currently 35-years-old, and in my eyes, I have lived a full life already. I look forward to what I’m trying to treat as my “second life” and the experiences and people that will fill what is to come.

What I want to write about here, though, is my “1st life”. I have been fortunate from the beginning. My parents still are together and supporting and loving my little brother and myself. That is a feat that is so uncommon these days, that it must be my base stock for the endowment of fortune in my life. With the stability that my family provides, I have been able to explore the world and expand my circle of loved ones. That is where I find my wealth.

I have lived in many neighborhoods and have traveled the world and country; more than most will in a lifetime. Along the way I have expanded my “family”. My best friends have given me the honors of being in their weddings, ranging in capacity from groomsman, best man and I even officiated one solid matrimonial ceremony (and am Godfather to the fruit of that love). It is humbling to be so loved by so many, with so little to give.

I write this today because the end of the year is drawing nye and I am reflecting on life’s ebbs and flows. This year has had its lion’s share of calamity, loss and injustice, both personal and collective. So there is a dilemma presented with that fact; what should be my focus? Loss or love?

I choose love. I give thanks to those that I share my life with and to those no longer with us that enriched my world. I am strengthened by the support and unfailing safety net provided. The acceptance of my flaws gives me hope to become better. The understanding of my sense of humor keeps me sane.

As my “family” grows, I just wanted to take a moment on a bullied pulpit to say thank you for the life I have, that would be nothing without you.



There are short stories 

And ones that go

On in memories 

I hope that you breach that gap

My heart can’t take much more

The threshold is small

But let’s risk it all

Hold my hand 

And run


Cada día vuele 

Si Dios quiere

A veces hay huelga 

Y hay otros de trabajo

Sin embargo, cada día seguimos
Otra botella vacía 

Un orgullo destrozado 

Vergüenza de mi mamá 

Pero hay los que me valedicen

Y se le doy las gracias 
La benediction que uno gana

De tener la humilde fortuna 

Que nos da un abrazo 

De un cachorro con mucho más de ver

Por lo menos 

Por un mínimo 

No soy un desgraciado 

Precious stones


I remember 

As a child searching the shore

After a storm on the coast of Lithuania

Seaweed, pebbles and broken shells

Palangos waters whelping debris

You made me a happy man

Stumbling upon a precious stones

Amber beneath my feet

Payoff for the storms that past

I may not be rich

But my wealth

I find in you

This life of Sisyphean tasks

Has my heart rendered mute

Though it may scream, gasping
I don’t know where the time has gone

Nor how the Cairn wound up on my soul

But now we are here 

Barnacles and grey chin sprouts
Forever will I endure

Mostly for those who are

Forever fighting for me

What life throws in my face

Be that mercy or grievance
I know where the hope that I have

Comes from

And will be kept as my blaze

Through days and mostly night

free fall


I was pushed out

the ripcord failed

the safety denied hope

suspended like a particle in a bog

here I fall slowly towards my fate

to rest among the other debris

forgotten decomposing leaf

or am I frog feces

either way, I will be indistinguishable

forced out to lay among the mire

when I come to, it will feel like terminal velocity stopped

by jagged rocks or perhaps a metal rod

until then I fly alone in free fall

looking at my unfortunate fate


Not a moment passes that I am not reminded of you
A news story or a benign song on the radio
Make me recall our many good times
Each time the stitches of my severed heart are torn out
Causing your absence to be newly relived

I am told there will be a time when that won’t happen
That sanity is far away and unwanted
This pain is the last that remains of you in my life
And if that’s all I get, let me cling to it a while longer
It will be like your sweet perfume lingering on my clothes

My body is rejecting your loss
I cannot eat or sleep, defying the reason of life
Time floats by in consistent ticks of the clock
But I am frozen in that moment when it became a reality
The shock is paralyzing to my core

That debilitating stagnation is all I have
And when it goes away, I’m afraid of the void
Will I implode or explode?
I suppose these are worries for another time

Winter flowers


Remember when I first picked you up
We exchanged stories, laughs and many drinks to sup
We were on this this ride with the wind flowing through our hair
As though we were two kids in a convertible, life on pause, unaware
And that’s how it stayed for months, maybe years
Life was full of anecdotes and nuances cheered over beers
I brought you flowers to make you remember me in my absence
You made me smile by wanting my presence

That was many yesterdays ago
Time has left the beer only as a pain killer
The wind is just as one would expect January’s kiss to be
As I say hello to the man who sold me your flowers, my heart wilts further
After all, they were my token reminder of me in my absence
Now they are my reminder of yours

Perhaps time will be merciful and let me see things differently
Recharge and reset things in my psyche
One day I may see flowers and think of happy things
And maybe they’ll auger good times and emotions
Until then, I’ll take the sweet and the bitter colorful flags of my past
As they wave in the chill winter’s air



I hope the road is easier for you down your path
You forked off of mine suddenly much to my surprise
Now I am left to wonder whether there are flowers or pitfalls before us
I used to run ahead to make sure it was safe
Now I can only hope, as I pass meadows, that you too find your way there too

I am not lost, nor far away, but under the same moon
Even when inclement weather blocks the silver orb
That shy light in the corners will be your reminder that I am but a cry away from your side
I will leave this path, through the barbing brambles, forging rapids and leaping over ravines
I will do it all should you call to me, but otherwise live well, my love

I will nightly look up at the moon hoping to see your reflection there
You were my sun, my blue sky, my carefree day
As I lay down to bed alone, in the moons rays I will be with you
Hoping that you are not lost, but happy beside life’s beaches
And I’ll look to wishful stars to guide me once again near you