Skyline Contemplation

Padre nuestro

Que estás en el cielo



Smog fills the air

And along the skyline

Is the leaden breeze



Santficado sea tu Nombre


Although gasoline fills windpipes

And disposition may remain

A bit drowsy



Padre nuestro, venga tu reino

Hágase tu voluntad

en la tierra

como en el cielo



There’s only the flash of red,

Breaking, churning of

Wheels on pavement

Swerving on turns



Danos hoy, nuestro pan

de cada día

perdona nuestras ofensas

como también nosotros perdonamos, senior

a los que nos ofenden.



Praying for everything to stay

In its lane

In its place



No nos dejes caer en tentación

y líbranos del mal.



Despite difficulties

Life’s mal cosas

I’m glad for these tidbits of relief

Holding out on that long drive

For revelation to strike.



Todo honor y toda gloria por los siglos de los siglos. Amen.


(Disclaimer: I don’t speak Spanish, but I think the Lord’s Prayer in Spanish is beautiful. Also, this is a revised version of Padre Nuestro.)


This Is My War

the intro twas what got me

I am smack-bang in the middle of the hardest part of my current project.

No longer the fresh excitement and boundless possibilities of the new, nor yet the fragrant and tantalising promise of completion, just the work; the seemingly endless and repetitive no-mans-land of the daily grind.

But still everyday I get up, brew my coffee, and get after it.

This post is about why.

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starbucks 2

Striking scenery in blue

Dreads hanging just so

Poised in mid-action before he enters the room

Inspecting those who he may encounter

And it’s that mid-glance with bag-tote in tow

the consciousness and awareness imprinted in stance

alertness in how he carries

His shoulders

angle from shoulder to elbow,

To the grip of hand on handle

Before entering the present


freeing breeze across the skin

pulp clinging to the upper lip

it’s goosebumps and

IndoAmerican news at stake here

waiting while time flits


living for the moment

while allowing conversation

to hover,

previously Korean murmurings

turn to half-baked smiles

opening doors while

ending phone calls

is something amiss?


next door is the Five Guys Burgers

and in front of me a gentleman

everyone running in such a

hurried, busy, classy manner

while allowing time to drift