last week’s poems 02
happy old hippy
got a boho wife
and a vw bus
living easy
since 95
and he winks at me
because he knows
he’s just fucking living
the life
i want a studio so i can tell em, “come by the studio, i’m cooking”
i want a studio so i can paint on the walls
and go nuts at any hour i want
i want a studio so you can come over and laugh while we paint
i want a studio so i can lose my mind
writing 12 poems on canvases at one time
i want a studio so i can draw life-sized nudes in multi-color charcoal
i need a studio so i can finally write something true on a wall sized canvas and send it to you.
she’s the sort of girl you find early in the morning (Ziggy Alberts sample)
she’s the sort of girl you find early in the morning
getting coffee at menotti’s
down by the boardwalk
and she’s the sort of girl you find out in the water
because she surfs in the morning and skates during the day
and i don’t know much about her
because i met her on Abbot Kinney and didn’t ask her her name
the path forward for any poet, artist, writer, painter: work on something small every single day, until you can then work on 2 things every single day, and then 3, and then 4 and tell me how many things you got going on today, how many works have you begun to create?
sunday morning, too many people going to church when they could be having brunch
and making real connections
with people living free
she’s the sort of girl
who brings her own food to restaurants
and her own flask to bars
and she’s the sort of girl
who writes all day at cafes
and paints all night in her room
and she’s the sort of girl
i could get a studio with
and we’d make enough art
to fill three galleries up
she’s the sort of girl
who could steal my heart
with a couple of looks
she’s the sort of girl
who gets you up at 5am
to find a waterfall
to skinny-dip in
and she’s the sort of girl
who sleeps warm with you
in a two person tent
or a single bed
and she’s the sort of girl
who writes more than you do
on a summer night
sitting legs touching close to you
oh baby
my journals full of love letters to you
you should come over and read em too
oh baby
i lost your number
a few phones ago
but i’ve got some pages
and you’ve got to see em
oh baby
i lost your address
a few years ago
i’ve been on the road
but lately i’ve been back
at our old bars
looking for you
because, oh baby
i’ve got a rucksack
full of journals
and baby,
they’re full of
love letters
i’ve never shown you
come over and read em through
i saw a girl
with long brown hair
blowing in a draft
on a restaurant patio
her date left her for a sec
we chatted real quick
he came back
he’d brought her some shades
for the glare
he seemed like a nice guy but
it was a crime to cover up those eyes
oh to have the energy of an early 80’s rock band touring the country on a few heavy hitters with a cooler of beers in the van marijuana from their fans and feeling the love for a whole summer of shows in outdoor venues with speakers that blast, and guitars that scream and scream and scream
become so interesting they cant help but ask, “what the fuck do you do?”
it could’ve been me and you
loving in a van
up and down the coast
but i didn’t have courage yet
to make it all happen
no that’s not it
i didn’t have the courage yet
to smash past the gatekeepers holding me down
the white american supremacy holding me back
the capitalist ideals weighing in my head
and societies constraints tying me to my bed
but I’m getting close
too many problems in my head
and I knew I’d be fighting them till I was dead
but right now I want to live
and
i’m fighting harder each day
getting smarter in every way
cashing chips for the rainy days
and slaving at bullshit careers
to pave a way for this brown man
to live beautiful daydreams
alongside you
so it could be us soon
you and me
loving in a van
up and down the coast
i’m close to finding the courage
to make it all happen
if you just want to talk art theory and paint or write free of mind
you are my people
if you are an immigrant, a traveler, a wanderer making things on the road, in a place that doesn’t yet feel like home
you are my people
if you are a minority, dreaming big, working on art
you are my people
and if you are one of the ones who falls in love daily with people at first sight
you are my people
have you ever had a day where
your writing was shit and your heart was hurting
and you needed a path forward
but all you had
was confusion
and some art that wasn’t that good?
well i’ve been there too
but that was yesterday
and today the weather is good
and the poems are flowing
and the homemade coffee tastes better than it should
have you ever had a day where you just slept
through it all
and knew it was wasted from the get go
and even though you tried
that day never got better
and you were still tired
well i’ve been there too
but that was yesterday
and today was for working
on poems
and paintings
and words
and my energy created more energy
have you ever had a day
that left you a wreck
lost your job
and bounced a cheque
well i’ve been there too
but that was yesterday
and today i might not make any money
but i will sure as hell write a poem or a few
that some artist kids will read in a year or two
and i dig the thought of that
all the artists are in LA
how do i know?
because have you ever
seen Andy Anderson skate the venice bowl?
or seen Jedidiah Jenkins writing at go get em tiger in the fall?
have you seen Steven Pressfield give a speech at the bookstore on Colorado?
or seen Gerard Butler getting a burrito bowl?
i have and that’s how I know
all the artists are in LA