Sonnet #22

Sweet success sometimes becomes a rueful path.
When the world feels cold and dark, persevere.
Well-crafted morals compound into cheers.
Trust the compass.  And, envelope no wrath.

Delicate deeds do much for a soul’s worth.
Inspire the people like the youth observe
What we choose, for our life ought to preserve.
This beautiful Earth in all of its mirth.

Resound with class before the monolith.
Even when you’re quite bruised, stay enthused.
There’s no abyss, only flux. Remain kind bliss. Fuse
the unconscious with your light-heart.  You’re pith.
With time comes many opportunities
To nurture the lovely communities.


Sonnet #19

I love myself for all that I’ve ever been.
I feel right with myself and mental health.
We all ascend our own mountain.
When I think of how I miss all of you…

All I want lately is you to come around
To lay under the hellfire heavens of greying skies
Of the highs that waltz into our everyday.

While we burn bright-hot, let’s melt
Every one’s icy misgivings until the mountains
Are submerged, the fires extinguished,

Surely, all that will be left is one enormous
             sea of love.
Let’s build bridges over teary-valleys.
To reckon a supreme state of Love…

Sonnet #16

Pontificate endlessly about love.
For absolute beauty glistens in our cries.
Grace is to be received from up above.

Opiate thrills never beat out trills and glee.
Everyone knows of the trap of the billow.
Free your love by the variegated willow.
Hearts hanker for mistake.  Wishes are free.

Husbands entombed in a graveyard unjust.
In Culture We Trust?  Romance is just lust.
More breezy than wind’s kisses of rhyme,
Cosmic paintings line the fabric of time.

We poured our hearts out in suburban streets.
Our fits and tantrums: sound, soft, and eclectic.

Sonnet #13

Forgive the demons in the inky voids.
Embrace the face of the present sublime.
We are spirits dreaming about this time,
Beings floating amidst huge asteroids.

Do you feel beauty and rest, Chaos?

Mother earth how sick you may one day be…
Nah, never. Here’s to yours’ to my safety.
Here’s to life lost. Let’s hear it for all us.
Fostering and dividing, fractious yet

Realms of white-hot suns, soothsaying hues of

Undying twilight ocean blue.
Onwards and always, forever…. Vapor trail…
Our love is too splendid to ever fail.
Forever unbound, sparking pure and true.

Dear friends and family, greetings guys and dolls, salutations ghosts and ghouls,

Here’s to meadowlarks and lovers.
Lets’ set sail for somewhere special.

Lets’s stay up late
with the people
whom free our dreams
and fill our sails.

Life’s been pretty great for a while. But it went stale. My grandmother had a stroke. I have cried so much lately. I can’t stop sleeping either. What does one do when responsibilities touch down in a land of Godless ruins?

You see, I have hardly succeeded in Maths lately. I am not overtly challenged by the content; instead, I am growing up and hip to the fact that I feel pure quantities are all substance and no heart.

Numbers feel like bold black cryptograms of fleeting meaning. Where is the inherent pursuit of cosmic life in numbers? There isn’t… At least not really. It is assumed as associative and commutative. And, it saddens me.

I’ve been a student of Literature, which made me more thoughtful and community-oriented. Didn’t go to well to be honest. Something about excavating the throe and woahs of history ships me into maelstroms.

But, something is missing. Something deeply buried in my past…

Here I resonate, panicking at the juncture of academia and my twenty-three-years-old mind, I’m seriously considering calling my math-e-mu-cation quits and transferring into astrophysics. My love of empiricism and rigorous science.
I am no longer convinced anything bequeathes me bliss, or tranquility. The prior mentioned subjects are beautiful, yes. But I am slowly learning they are not my jam.

Truth is, I took part in a creative non-fiction seminar with aspiring scientists last year. If I make the transition, I want to design medicinal music production frequencies. And, broadcast them into the chaotic unknown.

However, I fear I do not find beauty in the breadth and depth of my very being when I study them. Stars are born with the wink of an eye and they disappear in the blink of an eye. I want to record it all–the destinations uncharted of civilizations past.

Who knows what we can discover? Who knows the beauty that lies in the depths of hidden Hubble realities? Maybe we go on to bio-medically engineer stars together? Either way… Either way, I have never been happier than when I was delighted the opportunity to talk physics with the Fam.

Hope you are all s’well and staying well.

All loom no gloom,


P.S. I think Giggly-Dads come from Colorado. Not necessarily. But also, they do sometimes, ya know.

Anti-Sonnet #7

Individuals die.  Earths disappears.
Superstars collapse.  But, universes,
Or Goddesses, well, they shall resound
All brilliantly and forevermore. 
It all started with infatuation and
A mademoiselle, whom was quite unsure.
She told me no, and move on I did not…
So my frowns were sure, yet still glorious
Lonely, lost and confused–yet so enthused–
Too alive, too young, and ever more enchanted.
At first it was rough, but there is no excuse
To lose at love is tough–not ever the more evil–
Especially when we are all chasing dreams.
That’s all, isn’t it?  Sugar-Pi-Honey-Boo,
I just want to do justice to you heart.
For I’ve been engrossed by you from the start.

My Sorrows

For so long I’ve been silent about me.
I’ve never done much of anything wrong.
Truth is, all I’ve ever wanted is to belong.
All I want is respect for my family tree.

I’m the bipolar unlike everyone else.
It has been really tough keeping my head down.
Mania set in at the first undue frown.
I was playing the family instruments well.

Lost it all to alcohol.  First you take the
Then, the tincture takes you.  I’d take it back.
Sobriety’s something I’ve typically lacked.
Living in crises and shambles got old…

I want recognition for staying well

I love myself for all that I’ve ever been.

Too often besieged by oblivion,
Too much of a mood connoisseur,
To ever cease, my lambent ramblings
Are entombed in my past, but at last,
I feel right with myself and mental health.