The Book of Hope: Love and Road Trips

I know that the world is a good place.
And I know that life could be better.
I know that not all things work out
the way we’d like them to.
But . . .
I also know that deep down, somehow,
there has to be a reason
and some kind of passion
or purpose for all that’s gone on.

There has to be desire and the drive “for more,”
and there has to be a calling,
as if to be something
or maybe there’s someone out there,
as if to say,
someone is calling out without a voice
and saying “Hey you . . . it’s me,
and I’ve been waiting for you,
for all of my life and longer.”

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The Book of Hope: En El Nombre Del Padre

I remember him now with the wind in his hair,
the sun was high, like it is on a mid-August day,
and the winds were warm,
or warm as ever because of the warmth in my heart.

The sky was clear,
and I was nothing more than a little boy,
wading in the water
and knee-deep in the bays of my youth.

I remember this:
fishing with my Father,
The Old Man.
What a story this is to me . . .

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The Book of Hope: For Mom

There is nothing like a Mother’s love
There is nothing as strong or as ongoing,
or unconditional, or so it should be,
at least in the right life
or during the right circumstances
of course.

Mother, as in all directing,
as in always connecting,
always thinking
and always looking to care of say, me, for example,
the young one, or should I say
the youngest son who, of course,
was different from the rest of the pack.

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The Book of Hope: Lincoln Road

I have seen the sun come through the clouds
when the sky is otherwise rainy
and yes, I have seen light shine
where otherwise
there would be no other way
to see light or to witness the shine.

And yes, I have been to bad places
or seen darker times and even still, somehow,
I have found that there is this unstoppable thing,
or this unwavering force,
and unrelenting to,
to which this keeps me alive
and moving and hoping and thinking
that somehow,
I just have to get through today.

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The Book of Chaos: The Closing Chapter

Maybe the focus shouldn’t be
on Chaos anymore.
Maybe the focus
should be on something else,
or something new
like the first light of morning,
or when the sky starts to change,
and dawn begins to break;
the birds are chirping
and the world is sleepy
and quiet.

I love these moments
because the day is still young and innocent
or, perhaps maybe less-guilty,
depending upon the thoughts we hold
from the days before.

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The Book of Chaos: Dear Mom

Nothing comes the way they used to.
And this is not to say about the way things are
or how things have almost progressed
into some mindless way,
or how people seem to overlap or intersect,
yet, no one takes the time to notice
or to look up from their cell phone
and no one takes the time to look away from their technology,
at least not long enough to notice the signs
or to see which way the wind blows,
or how the sky looks.

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The Book of Chaos: How Does This Work?

I have a question,
which is plain and simple, really.
It is direct as direct can be
and although the answers might not
be as obvious
or as easy,
the question is really simple.

How does this work?
I think that this is a fair question.
Don’t you?
I think this question is fair to ask
and yes, I think this is a question
that can take off in different directions.

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The Book of Chaos: A Plea for Love

I never had the chance to be young. 
You know?
What I mean is,
I missed out on things that are important
or part of youth because somehow,
I was tricked
or robbed in a way
that I believed in the inaccuracies
and the varying concepts
of love,
or the lack thereof.

I never had a prom or the basic rites of passage,
and to some, I hear that I am making a big deal
out of nothing
but to them, this is nothing.
To me, this is something.

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The Book of Chaos: Don’t Feed the Beast

Ah the self-inflicted drama
or the self-induced problems,
which you’ve sworn off a hundred times, and still,
you find yourself encountering the same things
for the same reasons and, of course,
someone always comes along
to remind you about the definition
of insanity which is doing the same thing
but expecting different results.

Or something like that . . .

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The Book of Chaos: Voluntary Confinement

Do you want to know this part?

Okay, fine.

There is a sound that never goes away
or noises that you never forget,
like say the sound of handcuffs
as they clasp around your wrist
or the sound of a cell door as it rolls shut.

Trust me.
And trust that as crazy as this sounds,
and it does sound crazy,
there are people
who are destined for this
and yet, they act surprised
when their hands are behind their backs
and the door to the squad car closes
and next, it’s mugshot time.

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The Book of Chaos: Written for the Musician

If you know, then you’ll know. And if you really know,
then none of this will come as a shock or a surprise to you.
But if you don’t know or if you won’t know
then maybe you can’t know.
Maybe this is impossible for you to grab the concept
of a life like this
But maybe I can help.

Allow yourself to go there, and follow along.
Try . . .
use this as an exercise and allow your mind
to slide into a vision with me.

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The Book of Chaos: Wanting to be Beautiful

More than anything else in this world,
I just want to be good.
I want to “be” someone, you know?
I want to mean something
to someone and more than this,
I want to be beautiful.

I want to be pure
like a child when they see something new
or when a child plays or laughs or smiles,
innocently,
as if to have never been burned
by the edges of real life; or better,
I want to be pure in the sense
that I am me and as raw as I am
to the sight or to the touch,
or as imperfect as I may be,
I want to be beautiful
as if to be forever unmarred
or never marked and unmolested,
or removed from the version of sin or stigma
or judgment and so on.

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The Book of Chaos: My Art, As it Is

As it is, the world is a crazy place.
Therefore, as it is,
we all need to find a place,
or a refuge of some sort,
or way, a means to an end,
or to find some kind of balance,
in an unbalanced world,
which is why I am here.

This is my art.
And this is my inspiration.
This is all that I have and
I can say that I have given far too much of myself
but at the same time,
what is art without pain
or a little blood from the heart,
or what is music
without blues for the soul?

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The Book of Chaos: A Simple Definition

What is chaos anyway?
Let’s start this off with a basic definition –
Chaos, what is it?
Well, the dictionary says
it’s a state of confusion or wild disorder.
At least, this is what the dictionary tells me.

I think this goes further though,
and yes, I think that a state of confusion
or wild disorder is close enough. But no,
I think there’s more to it.

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The Book of Chaos: Love and All Its Faults

It goes this way. Life, I mean.
And there are times which come without reason
or without any sort of explanation.
And there are times when we freak
out or lose our cool
or in my case,
I lose my head, and yes,
we do things
that are against our best interest.

And we know this is wrong.
We know it as we follow through
just wishing we could stop ourselves.

But, we hit the trip wire and then boom
love goes up in a burst of flames
and the battlefield is drenched
with innocent bystanders,
or otherwise known as
the person you love the most.

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The Book of Chaos: Destiny

Good morning, my old friend Chaos.
It’s me again,
trying hard to find my way
and trying harder to defy the ideas
which have consumed me for way too long.

I find myself on the verge of another impasse
or crossroads, or perhaps I am on the verge
of another choice, or change
or decision. And again,
I go back and forth and walk down the same streets,
which have recently changed, yet
everything is still the same.

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The Book of Chaos: How Love Keeps Me Awake

Yes, I’m aware that the book
is never the same as the movie,
or that life does not come
with the so-called “CliffsNotes”
or an abbreviated version
to ease the study of one another, but yes,
I get it.

No one takes the time
to read between the lines anymore
nor would it seem
that anyone looks to dedicate
the time it takes to really know someone,
or something,
or to dig deeper than just the surface level. 

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The Book of Chaos: A Thought From the Drunk Rooms

There are nights when all is quiet
and the moon comes through the blinds
to leave a beam of moonlight
with a bluish tint across the sheets on my bed
or the whiteness on my face.
The blanket is off of me, and then on,
and then off again.

I am up, of course, and awake as usual.
I am thinking of random things
which somehow multiplies
into other thoughts
that take on a direction of their own.

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The Book of Chaos: So, You Want to See Crazy?

Crazy?

Sure, I’m crazy.
Then again, what does it mean to be crazy?
Am I crazy because I still want to believe?
Is it crazy to want more?
Am I doing the same things over and over again,
and expecting a different result?

But wait . . .
that’s not crazy.
That’s the definition of insanity
which, yes, if I’m being honest,
of course, I’m insane too.

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The Book of Chaos: A Little Game Called “Make it So!” (in four parts)

1)

I want to leave it all out there.
Do you know what I mean?
I don’t want to ever hold back again,
or be common or commonplace enough
to be side-swiped by some mediocre life
or to live in some basic or mundane existence
where I find myself aimless or aimlessly walking around,
like say, somewhere in Midtown,
caught in the undertow of some unfulfilled
or everyday world.

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The Book of Chaos: Future Breaths

You look and you try.
You wonder and you dream, and you imagine,
and then perhaps you barter and you trade,
you negotiate and often you compromise
to find that “thing” which I have been telling you about.

And you want this.
You really do,
You want to find this in whichever form
or in whatever way this appeals to you; and as you go,
you take notice of “what was,”
to prevent what happened
from happening again.

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The Book of Chaos: Waiting For Your Worth

It is even more confusing to say
that tomorrow is not a given,
especially when we have so much
depended on tomorrow, like a bet at the window
as if to bet on the 7 horse to win,
place or show.

Maybe tomorrow is not a given.
Maybe there really isn’t anything else
but right now . . .
and now has become the determining factor
of whether you or I will take that next step
or make that turn
or change our minds
and figure out a plan
for the rest of our lives
(so we can be happy).

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The Book of Chaos: Competition

I find that I am in a constant state of competition
with myself, which is not to say
that this is a race or that there is a first place,
second, third or last.
No.
This is more than just a physical match,
but mental as well, and emotional
and even educational to some degree because
as I go along, I find that I have been given
a series of inaccurate ideas
as well as lived in accordance
to a plethora of misinformation.

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The Book of Chaos: Battle Wounds

I was listening to a soldier
talk about an operation of violence.
And yes, this was violent to the core.
At the same time;
this is war and hence violence
is nothing more than a necessary evil
. . . just to survive.

I heard the soldier talk about the action,
the reason,
and victory of rage
which he also admitted to a celebration
of events
that the people in our society
are not ready for
nor are they tolerant of; however,
this is what it takes
to win a war.

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The Book of Chaos: Coffee Time in New York

Ah, Chaos,

I wonder who I would be,
if I were like the Buddha,
as in all-seeing and all-knowing,
or ever-growing and consciously improving,
as in consistently, on an ongoing basis,
as in forever,
always evolving, ever-changing
as in adjusting or adapting
in a moldable form
like an unfolding story
with a peaceful plot that projects
the pure divinity of beautiful aspirations
and essentially, this is what regains
my ever-evolving perspective
towards the possibility of infinite hope.

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