Enemy

Do you ever feel as if your life is not being controlled by your decisions, but by those around you? And it is not that you are being dictated heavily, but the expectations of the people around you influence you to the point where your happiness and life goals drain astray. Majority of my life, after turning eighteen, has been miserable to a certain degree. Like Joaquin, I too, am lost in a world of confusion; only, Joaquin knows who he is. For the longest time, I was always aware of who I was. Never did I feel like I had to leave my hometown and wander the world in search of discovering myself. But do I really know myself?

The decisions I want to make in my life may jeopardize my education, but when does one know when a decision is the right choice? I have been in search for a career that will leave me a mirthful human and because I have been in search for this career, I have studied various careers. As the clock ticks, today, right now, time is gone. Yesterday I was sociology major. Today I am an English Major. What will be tomorrow? As time flies, I force myself into a career I may not fully enjoy for the sole reason that time has flown. I am my worst enemy.

I feel the magic all in the air

Hello people of Blogger. It has been many, many moons since I have last been here. When I created my tumblr, I assumed I would post more blogs up there so I never really came back here, but I ended up only using Tumblr for little things of my personal life here and there.

Recently, I have been thinking about blogging every so often again, but would rather post here than tumblr because I have less followers here and the ones who do follow me, I have no problem with them reading… rather than a bunch of people.

Having said that, where should I start?

I have never been one to speak publicly about my emotions on the subject of love, lust or even like, but these are traits of human nature that cannot be avoided or pushed aside; it’s life. We all look at people, we all wonder and we all wish we had that ideal person to be with us. Now, since I am unemployed with no career, in my opinion, I have no reason to seek a relationship with a female. To me, a man should be with a career or at least a job to have a relationship; speaking as a heterosexual male. I don’t know why I feel that way, but maybe it is the old fashioned trait in me.

Anyway… because of that, I usually tend to stay away from meeting people, women specifically. I have had women interested in me and I somewhat to them and like everybody else, I have had an interest in someone who may or may not have the same feelings towards myself; I wouldn’t know ‘cos why find out if I didn’t really want to be in a relationship (maybe that’s an excuse I give myself rather than the fear of rejection)? Specifically, out of a lot of women I have met, only one has stood out. Only one female has been on my mind constantly because she is in fact, to me, the ideal woman to be with.

Corny as it may sound, because I like to experiment with poetry, I have had urges to write poetry about this person, about how the person makes the world appear to me. I hold back though… because like I said… corny. It seems like a cliché to me… writing poetry because of a woman. Sometimes, clichés are the perfect way to go about things; Clichés are clichés for a reason.

Either way, risk taking or excuse making, this woman makes me think about a lot; future included: life, marriage, happiness. As corny as it IS, she brings that stuff out of me. Now, I don’t know if I am going to write poetry about her or anything of that sort, but I am sure I will blog about her again. For the past few years I have known her, she has been the only one to rock my world.

Rudy to Randy

Rudy to Randy
by Joe C.

Often after shows
he and I would return to the
eight wheeled rust covered wagon
to avoid the barbaric like parties
that would keep us from repose.

In robes we sat while he
plucked his black V shaped guitar
with yellow polka dots that lounged on its body.
I would follow with a
low whisper from my bass.

His snuff colored medium length hair
would sway back and forth like an ocean’s wave
at each pluck of a string
while a smile that would never fall from his face
kept us in harmonic unison.

Hours later after our axes rested
a door would open and the bright
Florida sun would shoot through my eyes
waking me up while the sound of my guitar
buddy’s shy mellow voice called my name.

He invited me to go riding on a plane
to see the countryside but it was early
and I was not fully awake.
I told him go ahead
and I fell back into an unconscious mind.

Later that day as I tuned my strings
with the radio playing the familiar sounds
of hard rock and roll,
the song was interrupted only to hear
the disc jockey say

25 year old Randy Rhoads, Lead guitar player
for Ozzy Osbourne, along with two others
were killed in a plane crash today.

In an instant the melody went flat
and the sound of white filled the air.
a joyride turned into sorrow left me
with a fallen smile
and a final memory.

Leafless Poetry

I am not sure if it is finished or not. Any criticism? Please!
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"Leafless Poetry"
By Joe C.

Lying over the covers as our
leafless coverings
embrace with each other
second after second.
your breath clouds our dark surrounding.

the sinuous chesnut hair from above you
parades my face
while the aroma of a colorful
bouquet fills my lungs.

the melodic sounds from
my old bumbper sticker covered
boombox stereo
harmonize with the din of you and I
as the palatable bang
that fills a once vapid tongue
develops into savory bliss

White Season

White Season
By Joe C.

“All the earth is a grave and nothing escapes it, nothing is so perfect
that it does not descend to its tomb.”
-Nezahualcoyotl


have the mountains always been green
and the soil brown?
did these bristled chunks of stem and leaf
always stand so sharp?

looking down seeing the footprint
beneath mine,
perhaps of a 6 foot dolphin
running from the merciless
alabaster like predator
that shadowed his every move
like a hawk to a rabbit.

as I put my ear close into the wind
a voice of blue yells in minor.
Listen closely,
the whistling sound of the wind
plays a song of dread and fear
and it stops as the wind
stands hidden.

and all that’s left is
a green, brown colorful land
camouflaged to conceal
a black, gray
White Season.
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Foot Note: Dolphin refers to the Chumash clan of Ventura County.