The Loyalty of a Good Morning's Teeth

Steam is thinning on an opening medicine cabinet,
An ironic name for the mirror reflecting the cavity
Of something that has relatively few remedies.

The contents include deodorants, gifted colognes of
Now illicit scents, and a secondary tooth brush promoted to
Primary by the many nights she use to refuse to sleep alone.

Modest coloration and bristles once cleansed and tickled
The protective layers of the core strength of her teeth;
The integrity of enamel that did not withstand these stains.

It remained loyally shelved patiently awaiting her return;
Longing days and weeks turned months collecting dust
Anticipating fresh beginnings of a new morning's breath.

Where the handle once held forgotten hope, paste, and plaque;
Today it is perceived with decayed denture attachment, used to
Clean my sink, and politely tossed in the waste-d basket.

Late Night Joy Ride

A small blinking light and pumping feet
Belong to a man furiously pedaling a bike
To avoid being hit from behind.

A prostitute walks by a sleeping cemetery
Hoping to rest in peace tonight
Without any solicited company.

Four corners boasting octagons
Allow them both to pass, and
A car refusing its red warning rolled on.

Its windows rolled down,
The music playing inside could still be heard
When everyone was just trying to find a place in this world.

New Song

Here's a new original song by yours truly.

Pyro Poets

I almost forgot I was a poet until these words forced their way out:

We were there to guide Greek philosophy.
We were there to inspire the books of the bible.
We inscribed the Proverbial Psalms of Solomon.
We resuscitated the Renaissance, rocked gas masks
and bats in revolutions, and lived diverged in a yellow wood.
We are on the front lines of insight, and conquistadores
of the obscene.
We were put to sleep during the Great Awakening,
and fed our scraps to perdition amidst the Great Depression.
We introduced soul to the blues, and gave respiration
to jazz.
We accidentally impregnated the Beat Generation, and
birthed a Hippie bastard child that
tarnished the name of non-conformity
and hair beyond the ears.
We are all poets.

And as poets
We are mad scientists formulating fire;
Pyros long before Kerouac,
and they will burn far beyond me.
Collectively we will ignite fallacies
and corruption down to the
ashes of authenticity,
If that even still exists.
I am democratically
Entitled to speak freely to those
Willing to illegally, if necessary, set this place ablaze
Melting the dry walls that saw everything
But never said what
The foundation was silently supporting
All Along.

Disgusted by routine
I'm tired of being demonized for carrying on
By those who have given up, given in,
Succumb to monotony
Pretending to be happy.
They say wake me when we're there
Having already missed the contingency
Of anything worth living.
Meanwhile, I've been frantically
Attempting to redirect the course
Whilst you've been asleep at the wheel.
The ship is heading for the rocks, the train
is rebelling from its tracks, and the plane
Spiraling to a final resting place.
Captains, conductors, and pilots are
Cross eyed in cocked pits shouldering the boisterous
Barrel peering through their fears
After being hijacked to keep my own spirit
In flight.
Otherwise, I'll take it down myself in a
momentous collision aimed straight
For the breastplate of all those who said
There are just some things that can't be done.

At the gates I'll be asked
What I believed in.
Well, I believe in dark beer, mediocre wine,
and whiskey.
I believe the puppetry of politics
Will never achieve anything more than
War and destruction due to empirical egos.
I believe in spontaneity, simply saying 'yes' consistently,
and always pointing in the direction of anywhere but here.
I believe in laughter, tears, a clapping crowd,
and the shrieking howl of a deep
seeded combination of all three demanding
to be released in an unfiltered maniacal shout
To the heavens.
I believe in friendship, true love, and the
Moments leading up to penetrating a woman's heart
If she is worth the emotional devastation that
Will surely follow and be my fault because
There are still too many places to be seen to settle.
I believe I will forever be tormented by discontent
But that my experiences will bring hope, joy,
and peace to others.
I believe in song and dance, in the irrelevance
of plans, and the absence of chance.
I believe there is enough purpose and passion in
This world to keep me naturally inebriated
In an epically mind altering euphoria, and that
YOU created all those ingredients.

He'll say the words, 'Holy shit. You've
done well son. The world needs more like you. '
-Thank you Father.
-Would you like to come in?
-Nah, I'm not ready yet. Will you please
tell my mother hello for me though?
-Of course. Now go back and paint me
A Masterpiece.

Pursuing Purpose

In the same establishment, and in the same night, I was approached by two old acquaintances. The first said with such disdain and annoyance, "What are all of those stupid mass messages you keep sending me?" -- "Well did you open them?" -- "No." -- "You really should have. They might not have been so stupid then." The second person, whom I had only seen once in passing in the last 5 or 6 years said, "I want you to know that I read and watch everything you send out. It has affected my life so much. I love it. What else are you working on?" I was initially taken aback by the person I have such minimal contact with. She is a representation of all of those I never see or hear from; the people I never have a clue are interested, care, or even have such an impact on. As I told her about the book I am currently writing about my mother's life, there were the most sincere tears streaming down her cheeks that were reassuring, encouraging, and endearing.

I knew I would encounter both of these people; those who love and hate what I am doing, but I write and engage life in the manner that I do because it is my specific path, and that path is right. I know that I have found my purpose, and nothing else matters except pursuing that purpose because this is when you are the most useful to the world, and to others around you (even to those who don't understand or are tired of the "stupid" mass messages now).

In my day to day, I have been surrounded by folks, young and old, who approach morbidity in two ways; either in complete acceptance, or in fear of passing, what their legacy will be, and how others might write their eulogies without knowing what they may say. I am part of the first group and feel that when I'm gone, if people don't write the things I want to be recognized, then I will not have lived life adequately enough to reflect my real purpose, and that will be no ones fault but mine. I say: discover your purpose, pursue it passionately, forget how you think others might perceive you, and the rest of your steps will be guided to help you achieve the legacy you always dreamed of that is clearly written by the purity of your own actions. Those can't be misread by anyone.

As for me, I will carry on...

Responsibly Running

I was born on a Saturday in '86, the afternoon before Mother's day. She said I was her gift that Sunday, and this weekend will be the first I will not be able to give that gift to her; followed by my birthday that lands the day after this year. Needless to say, I am not looking forward to the constant reminder of my Mother's absence, and have already made plans to be at the beach all weekend.

A close friend of mine looked directly into my eyes the other night and asked sincerely if it is out of an attempt to "run away". I don't remember my exact response to her, but it was an honest mixture of "yes" and "no". In a separate discussion, another friend asked if all of the moving around, and impulsive uprooting; this go with the flow wherever the wind blows mentality was really as irresponsible as many people make it out to be. Or, what the possible difference was between running and responsibly leaving, if that exists.

I can't answer for the personal details of her decisions, but I can say that, yes, I am running from any comforts of walls that resemble home this weekend, and, no, I do not believe I can run to anywhere that my sorrows couldn't follow. In essence, on Mother's Day I have nowhere that I actually need to be. There will be no celebration lunch, balloons or cards, cake served on the "You are special today!" plate that we have in our family. Instead, I am running to the one place that I want and need to be: the beach. Sitting on my board in the ocean, the smell of the salty breeze, camping in the sand, the one place where I am able to be alone and responsibly cope.

I call the Re-Beats Project a "movement" because, like all things, you have to move to make things happen in life, and they will never happen sitting stagnant. However, I can't determine for anyone, except myself, how far you have to move, if you are fearfully running away, or boldly running towards the place you ultimately need to be. I hope you find a little more clarity in which is most necessary for your own life though.

Origins of Revolution

In my little world, ideas are constantly swirling. I have a good grasp on some of them, but am not afraid to say that I need help taking others from uncoordinated thought to verbalized coherence. The best way to get to that point is to constantly talk to people, and willingly accept their input. No matter what side of the fence you are on, I don't get all of these political programs now that claim to accept other views on their show, but never allow their "guest" to get a word in before shouting over them the point that they wanted to get across in the first place. To think that one person, or one view, contains complete correctness is not only arrogant, but stupid. I have had two conversations this week that have had my head beautifully spinning.

The first was the origin of all revolutions. Mass movement always tends to come from one source: disconnection. This is broad, but can be configured to support every historically significant era. "Just feed them cake" says the French queen as a solution to the widespread starvation issues; "No taxation without representation"; "Liberty at all costs over the tyranny of someone that doesn't understand the peoples needs" (masters & slaves, dictatorships, separate but equal); and peace rallies versus wars our youth was previously drafted into without a clear explanation for the necessity of their presence.

Food for thought; we are said to be in an age where our societies are the most connected ever, but are we really? Have we lost the ability to communicate efficiently? Has tv taken over dinner talk? Does anyone else see the impersonal behavior of a text over an actual conversation? How many of your facebook "friends" are really friends? How much of our youth (supposed future leaders) care more about the idiots in the specific regions of the east and west shores of New Jersey and Laguna than global affairs? Similarly, how many can tell the difference between reality tv, and actual reality; the truth in news and spewed sensationalism? Does anyone else see the need to reconnect realistically? Just wondering.

Second, there are only several ways of describing, "going against the grain", "non-conforming", "different strokes for different folks", etc. without sounding redundant and outdated, but I have struggled for a long time to put into words trying something different, and only just heard it expressed really well. We have certain thought processes (good & bad), and ways of doing things without thinking anything of it because it is just "the way" it has always been done; TRADITIONS. It was pretty cool to hear that concept challenged in the misconceptions that tradition means repetition, but in fact tradition is something that is done for the sake of being passed down from generations without changing. To elaborate: tradition has lost progressive purpose in a solitary mindset that will never allow for advancement. Some traditions are fun, and harmless, but how many of those are hindering us from advancement? What do you think? Are we disconnected, and stuck in a traditional trap? Is it time for a revolution of the mind...

The Latter Theory

The intimate events of the past week have been pretty profound for my mind, and has left me with an intellectual erection lasting much more than four hours, and I am in no hurry to seek medical attention. Though I do feel that I've been blessed with a keen level of insight, I've never proclaimed to possess all of life's answers, but more of an ability to observe and ask the right questions, rather than any unnecessary accreditation. Our society is constructed of an entangled structure of ladders that each of us are trying to climb to the top of; either over, around, or pulling down those in our way. I on the other hand see more benefit in unifying these unstable steps to build a sturdy stairway that we can all share. The Re-Beats isn't a fashion style, but a lifestyle, and the aim is to connect all those who share this life, while respecting its various styles. That being said, I love to hear what others are doing to reshape the ideas of purpose, and hope to plug you into something specific, or help you inspire your own ideas under the same principals.

• Check out the http://belovebus.com/. Several young ladies have taken a neat approach to spreading the message for breast cancer awareness, simply by doing what they desire to do anyways. Comprised of a couple of pro surfers, a musician, and a camera they set out to travel in a creatively painted bus up and down the Australian coast documenting their experiences. Very cool. Watch their videos on the website or youtube, and show some love to save the boobies.
• One of my dear friends Jon Fritzler, helped found AMP- the Aloha Music Project which makes efforts to connect musicians and artists alike as well as coordinating events to expose their collective talents. With big plans currently located around the university scene in Hawaii, I have no doubt that Jon's and the Aloha spirit will spread far beyond the islands to take the collective connected arts to a new level, while showcasing more than individual talents. Check out their facebook group! http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=122811525613&ref=ts
• I also wanted to send another warm shout out to Josh Riebock, and his book my Generation. He has been a constant source of encouragement in my own field of writing, and that which I write about (life), even amidst my own struggles. Great guy, great writer, great friend. This cat is all encompassing with websites, blogs, podcasts, social networking sites, and everything in between. Check him out. http://www.joshriebock.com

Please continue to send me your stories, input, thoughts, or just a friendly hello. All is welcome for the advancement of the Re-Beats project, and any other purposeful projects out there, or we can stick to the latter theory of viciously trying to climb individual ladders alone. Thanks.

Break on Through to...

The other side of me is one that hasn't been seen by the majority of my peers. Although raised in the church, and a home built on steadfast grace and love by my pastoral parents, I eventually lived up to the stigmas of a typical preacher's kid, and have spent the better part of a decade running from God. In all fairness, it would be better articulated as: being on my own agenda. Even so, I still held the greatest gratitude for the consistency of my parents integrity. Regardless of how you want to categorize it, there was an inherent need for a change that could not come from anywhere except within.

The beauty of a hangover, after a serious several week binder waterboarding sorrows into hopeful submission, is that the body undeniably tells you, "No more, try something else. These torture tactics aren't working for us." Having endured enough, I packed some clothes, a Bible and a book handed down to me at the urgency of a friend, my surfboard, turned off my phone, and drove until the road dead ended into the ocean. Some serious storms blew in upon arrival forcing me to seek shelter from the winds, and I found God again that night in a Wal-Mart parking lot while trying to sleep in my car, then began reading the book I'd been given.

It's titled mY Generation, with creative emphasis on the members of the "Y" generation, and written by a phenomenal man, Josh Riebock. Mostly a compilation of stories of broken people desperately needing a catalyst to break through to something better like me, I enjoyed his accepting approach to any and all who had never known spiritual love the way he was willing to give it. His actions endorse his written word, which all emulate a Christ like existence, and affirm the ultimate message of the book; which is to show the continuing relevance of Jesus, in that he humbled himself to sit with those who thought they were too far from salvation. Great stuff. I am happy to call him a friend, to say that it helped change me, and to say that you should definitely check it out! http://www.joshriebock.com/

My intentions are not to preach, or attempt to convert those who are unwilling, but to offer personal examples in a continuing effort to show a true version of myself, and the decisions I have made to get to this place. Your journey is subject to individual choice free of judgment from the hypocrisies of Christianity that unfortunately exist at times, but with an ever extended hand from me to you in the event that you care for it.

Challenging Inadequacy

It is hard to believe that it has almost been a year since graduating. I entered into the "real world" considering myself to be an applied idealist, in the sense that I knew my plans and values were idealistic, but that I intended to stop at nothing to apply them realistically. Furthermore, I recognized that I was taking an unorthodox approach from typical salaried pursuits, but was sure that if I stayed true to the purity of my desires to write, and change lives living on nothing now, I would reap the rewards of everything later.

How was I to know all of the challenges to come though? Referring to the last post, I came home stripped of my confidence in past accomplishments. To lose a parent is to lose an immeasurable amount of love, encouragement, and strength; much less assurance in everything I used to think I knew. However, amidst these painful struggles, all of the free time I meant to adequately spend on my books and projects gave too much leeway to doubt and thoughts of personal inadequacy.

Additionally, blame it on the economy, soaring unemployment, or your own opinions, but an abundance of my friends were battling intimidating uncertainty with their futures also. Having gone through the worst of these times physically and emotionally though (hopefully), I have been made brutally cognizant that it is on us to take responsibility for our own lives rather than blame anybody else. Then, and only then, was I able to take back control of my circumstances. Similarly I am proud of my friends, family, and fellow Re-Beats who have done the same by: getting into med-school, teaching in other parts of the world, leaving dead end jobs for graduate school, engineering work, music and the arts, and my own aunt who has chosen to go after her life long dream of being a nurse.

They, along with myself now excited to write the tale of my beautiful mother's impact through her amazing journey, are rejuvenated by a renewed sense of purpose for a greater life that would never be freely handed to us otherwise. This is the truest essence of the Re-Beats philosophy.

Honestly Me

A lot has changed since my last post, but I feel it is necessary to give you all a very sincere, and unfiltered honest explanation. Why? Because those who are willing to expose themselves are often met by a multitude of critics who hide behind attacks of questions, but those answering them are also having a greater impact on the rest of the world who recognize achievement.

As many who knew me heard, I lost my mother to a two year battle with cancer last August. Initially I was numb, and the road trip I took shortly after helped me run. Having gone to school in Hawaii, I was used to being away from home for the months that make up a typical semester, but returning just before Christmas made me realize how noticeable the absence of her presence was. That, along with the poor timing of a then necessary breakup to a woman I loved dearly, accounted for the deepest depression of my life that I am only a little more than a month removed from, but still dealing with every day.

I say this because the accumulating accolades of traveling extensively through Greece, South America, our own country, completing a charity bicycle ride from Texas to Alaska, running a Wine Club, holding positions in other organizations, and graduating with a degree from Hawaii was formerly the basis for the confidence that I rode high over all of the tough times in between. As I found from irreplaceable loss though, confidence can be stripped to nothing. Therefore, upon learning to embrace the brokenness, I was able to use that to build a much stronger foundation, rather than let it destroy me.

I say this because many can't associate with cycling over 4,000 miles in one summer, or a recklessly free spirited life style, but everyone can associate with the sometimes overwhelming trials and troubles of life's grind. However, when we examine ourselves honestly, and realize what is truly important, we take the greatest step towards a better life, and that is getting our minds positively geared first. I say this because as Re-Beats, I hope we can do that together.