i killed my heroes


when i was a child
i acted like one
looking up to others
i had a list of heroes
and i wanted to be
just like each one of them

when i became an adult
i wanted to pull that little boy aside
and tell him not to set his hopes so high
because when you fall
you fall far

today i killed all of my heroes
when i realized they were just like me
setting themselves up for failure
but when they failed
they failed into becoming my hero

what they set out to do
they didn’t achieve it
but to a little boy full of dreams
wandering aimlessly
for more than what life
had brought him
they were definitely heroes to him

today i step out
from under my own shadow
and become my own hero
fall far
and along the way
learn how to fly

A Happy Home


Honesty before happiness
But not too much

Togetherness over independence
My story is yours

You sit in the driver seat if you like
I trust you

The real you
Not the person we all prop ourselves up to be for society to

I want to help make your life
A little easier

A man in my own element
But gentle enough to hold you when
you need to

I kill all the spiders

Good to the bone
I want to make the world more

Capable of love
To give and receive it

I want to see you grow
I want to help you mature into who you
want to be

Honest in my endeavors
I’m here for you in heart and mind and
body and home

You are the best thing to ever happen
to me
You wear my throne

You are my best friend
You are my happy home

Heartbomb (Bohemian amethysm).

Romani wanderer. Traveler of the night.We hide our light with our world all abloom lit in adventures always found with you. Wherever we lay our pirates hat is always a party to be had and a home to the soul for deep resting, but never forever ever permanent.

Honey, close your eyes for just a little bit. I promise the fun won’t end when you wake of it.

Yes, ‘it’ as in the thing you long for. The rolling moments of sweet lit friendship. The babbling brook of your paths past now found intrenched in togethers jolly.

Lost in a ruin of time. Time to go, because you come from smaller times in smaller worlds where time is a shorter distance where little to do is in everything and in order to change that you must reinvent each instance.

Find new worlds with longer spiraling timers arrows. Study the science of it all and break what little time left you have in your heartbomb’s clockers keep.

Don’t count sheep. Move past them to the next dream. Find the inner vision of your most longing and wanting pretty personality smiling jackal for a Hyde of hungry teeth. And when it consumes you and runs away with you under red lit skies slowly starting to fall in, peer into her darker eyes while you still can, and know of their every detail – study them well. They are on a similar journey. But don’t blink. You might get left behind.

Time tripper. The magical taboo of romanticizing time thieves – as if the worlds history full on misery were not enough for these primal hungerings. But we seek to move us past that. All of time is but a concept. All of life but perspective. Choose yours well.

Turning Romanian culture into privileged erasure pop vulture. If only everyone had such opportunity but to ‘choose’ to be happy. Some of us have taller hills to climb to find such a vantage point to this one place we share space in called reality.

Brother Gil Scott warned me of this. But I don’t think he anticipated Twitter. Or the gift that is an online world so connected at the hip. Knowledge of everything at your finger tips. Now we choose what realities we subscribe to.

So long as there are bills to be paid, battles to be won, and sugar in your tank, you’ll have time to chase to make up for the unique storied misfortunes where always you are victim to a victimhood forever singing your sad, sad song.

I’m interested in writing the lyrics to the song where you are your own superhero. What powers do you want? Would you like the bubble of Christian American middle class white male luxury? It rides late into the night wherever it pleases and if pulled over gets a gentle reminder of wiser fatherhood advice like as if every police officer were a friend of a friend a relative my own neighbor brother.

We all share the face of paler ghostly atrociousness from rope to hide to tree to auctions to America the dream and how the white man truly lacks a vision inclusive of different cultures.

Highland traveler, speaker of Cant, taker in doom. You highlight insecurities then dance at their gloom. The upkeep is for the Jones’. But fuck comparisons. You’ll always lose in the end. The odds of ‘better’ are always stacked against you.

Instead, meet the sweet young thing that goes by the name, Appreciation. She sings with what she’s feeling right now and she moves her shapely body as if gravity were but a dance to be had with time. Shake the feelings you previously had about deeper procreation inhibitions being controllable. Appreciation is smiling at you again.

What was this poem about again? Damn, she has nice hips…

sing a little love


sing a little love so pure and true
sing a little love for me and you

id like to sing a little love song
for a life where
all your dreams come true

id like to bring you sunny weathers
inside your heart where i find bloom

id like to give you time to grow
from the joys in life
with peace and room

id like to help you write this love poem
with all these words
i sing of you

of a life filled with happy memories
of our time lived well spent
of us always holding hands

of us dancing in tune to each others

id like to put a little love
in your heart
put a little love in your future
growing up so fast and soon

to the rise and fall
of wandering moons

in a childs growing anticipation
for late nights of magical stories
told of wonder and gloom

find yourself in this love poem
keep its flame well lit
and always true

ill need your help to finish it
and to help our child
write theirs too


What is the size
Of a light year
Can you weight it
And photograph it
Is it something
We can imagine
In our head
Is it truly knowable
Like the color
Of your eyes
And deep down
In the quarks
Of your atoms
Can you
In the color spectrum
That your iris
For your sour
Of distance
And moving space
In the time
We call
Sweet living
For destiny
Or fate
Or random
Of divinity
In the you and me
The all of me
My all or nothing
Like shifty plate tectonics
Covering my
Thought patterns
In a time leap
For tomorrow
I want to know them
So as to see
What we are to be
But as I look upon the sky
To the outside people
I see their whole entire
Cosmic existence
Being pulled apart
And scattered
Into infinity
In outer space
Up today’s person
In a million years
Light leap



So now that you know
How much of a nerd
I am for you
I’d like to get
All the data points
On what makes you
What makes you
What makes you
Past the blue horizon
Of someone’s lowly
Of deferred dreams
Thought bleeds
Of truer intentions
In childhood
Light beams
Of past memories
And off to the
With wedding
And forever
Like how you
Remind my soul
To be fragile again
Be vulnerable
Be open
To the soft ways
Of how you
Touch the air I breathe
With the sweet melody
You speak
When you say my name
Eyes open
Seeing me
For who
I truly am to be
No matter how
I try to clothe it
Cover it up
Hide it away
You see the full depth
Of my quietest abyss
And you bask in it
Swimming upstream
The all absorbing
Medal of heart
Honored to be
Your blind
Test subject
For a thing called
This one life
Shared equally
My piece of bread
Your piece of bread
My farthest adventures
Your farthest calling
My happiest
Your happiness
My dream
Your cutie pie smile
My beating heart
For light shuddering
Eyes blink
At your beautifullest
For everythings
My always
And forevering
But I just call you
By your bedroom name


Mirror mirror

From the dandelion to the sunflower, from the larva to the butterfly, from the cephalopod to the tetrapod, from the green grass plains to the flower pot. A nebula can only get its start if it has dust in space to chase hydrogen in place for the birth of a star. It’s nuclear war. How a tortoise got its shell involves over a million different tails. And to tale it swell you’ll have to think of every angle and tell. Look the poker player in the eye and poke her veil with the ends of what a man am I. To outlast this story but a million times through hymns and dreams of benign vision of my two bad eyes. What signs I sign for the deaf and blind. We’ve heard this same story but a millennial and nine, but with each time a microcosm shifts. And tens of thousands of years from now, this cowardly spine will hopefully have many many more disks. Like pulling wisdom teeth from a cave man. It hurts. But I just can’t seem to see past the you and me that escapes my imagination of here today where I stand right now holding your hands. Remember yourself the great ape. The wet foot mammal having taken every cosmic shape. Envision a lion on a lotus leaf and a falling feather for the wind to bring the news of today for you and me. And the sands of time clock tick this magical human hour of invention by projecting civilization forward through the use of smoke and mirrors. Beyond the white and the black, beyond the cave and the forest, beyond the open plains and off to horizontal star dwellers. Look through your kaleidoscope and see if you can spot your burning bush from afar. See all god’s gifts are colliding and falling to Earth with the sorrow of Cupid’s heart. I’m just here to help pick up the pieces and put them back into the stars. To get back to the start of it all. Back to where life ends and begins again in another form in another way in another you with a different name. Come tell your story once more, my whimsical and starry friend. From seashore to mountain top. Go tell it all upon a youthful fountain. Make a wish. Close your eyes. Cross my heart and hope to never hide what makes my story so important. It’s you. The you in yours that makes me in mine. With flowery eyes and dandy lies. I’ll say your name over a thousand times and hope to never forget your smile. Your beautiful voice. Your scent. Your taste. Your look. Your mind. How lucky am I just to get to know it. I want to write it all on a wall to be found in a cave protected from time so no one will ever forget your face. My perfect mirror.