to move up and down
Pulp Poetry
Scraps of fascination are the building blocks of an interesting life.
Mayor Quan’s Oakland 5-7
(Source: pulppoetry.com)
Mayor Quan’s Oakland 4
Mayor Quan’s Oakland 2
Mayor Quan’s Oakland 1
An unexpected “Where’s Waldo?” moment.
Prayer to A Kite
Oh, Great Green Kite!
Lift me off this ground.
This dirt
This sand
Clinging to everything.
Lift me to the sky
The light
The warmth.
Let me be done with wet and cold.
Please, lift me up!
Your life is carefree.
Mine is filled with worry.
Teach me your saintly ways.
How can I better myself
Down here?
I’m too tempted to lie
In the mud.
You’re majesty
Let me be sublime.
Dress me in resplendency, though
I am simply a man.
Oh please, take me up!
Let your strength lift me!
And we will fly
Anywhere, anywhere, anywhere,
Anywhere…
Q: What color is the sky?
A: There are no easy answers, but looking for them is a beautiful thing to do.
This nail means you’ve died.
That blood disease took you
From this Earth
From your family
From me.
The scars on these stones will never heal.
But some day
With enough wind,
And sun,
And rain,
It will become a foothold for life.
A new life.
Not yours.
You, my beautiful boy, are never coming home again.
I don’t drive this nail into rock with anguish
My sadness doesn’t plant it here.
The memory of you isn’t strong enough.
I drive it with a fury
And passion
At the thought of how many days
Lay before us.
I would erase those days and join you
Now.
But I know what you’d say. I know what you’d want.
To live my days and find happiness again.
And I couldn’t bear to face you not having done that.
So you’ll forgive me if
Right now
I hate you.
And use that hate to drive this nail into stone
And hopefully, the remove the nails
In my heart as well.
The other side of pink.
