Lying in bed this morning, long before the slamming of doors and the starting of engines awakened the sleepy barrio, a million thoughts were stampeding through my head. Impressions about the things I looked at or heard as a rolled …

I miss the vending machines that existed when I was a kid. My two favorites were at the San Diego Zoo. After passing the Reptile House on the walkway toward the Children’s Zoo was a small pavilion that featured a …

oh no , not at all i like the rain what makes me sad is the color of the sky when that changes so do i and then she smiled...

i was 2 yrs old when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor...WWII was suppose to be the War to end all War... i remember the mood...the black out curtains...the fear of submarines prowling off our coast after all if they could …

sights of shallows still lifes layers of cake to navigate experiences sweetness of nature tastes of waste and abandon touches of humanness commodities tangled up or dangling delicately precious

How effortless life’s become when with the click of a cyber button we just as easily add friends as delete them, when we block correspondence rather than communicate, when we’ve the excuse of not having been in range of satellite …

slither dearer near the wilted weeds play the part of rattled kin and make me faint of heart the spring fresh born has blown the horn asked you to change your fine display a coat well worn now will be …

feeling ever so light lately and can't quite describe it a little less weight comfort finding me everyday somewhere thinking try like a butterfly

What is money? My car. And sex. And? Feelings of discomfort and anguish. Is that all? Bottlecaps. And maybe thumb-tacks. All correct, my dear. You are truly wise. I’m not really a genius or anything. Let’s not get carried away. …

entertain me awhile longer just for fun groovy tuesday imagine short people tall tall people short vanilla that tastes like chocolate and chocolate that tastes like chicken who you - kidding wishing real for winds to cross my pond more …

"Amin, I see you as someone incredibly unique. You're not 100% Iraqi, and you're not 100% American," says a good Iraqi friend of mine as we drink tea in front of his restaurant in the Gaslamp. "I feel like you …