The Gold Star

Trying so hard to win the gold star
Excelling with words and drawing for far
too long without anyone noticing.
Without the powers that be realizing.

I have pretended daily that I don’t care.
That I put my passion out there and that it is fair
to distance oneself from one’s desires.
That, that it is the only way to put out the internal fires.

That one can not have something if one wants it.
That one must decide to give freely and not quit.
That the battle with one’s ego is always there.
But one must come with loving open arms to bear

The passion and talents that God proclaimed
upon one’s soul as it was waiting to reclaim
its karmic path as it was forced to be reborn back
to fulfill the desires that one’s soul seems to lack.

So is it a lie to act as if one gives expecting nothing
for one’s time and energy? It must be worth something?
Would it be better to proclaim these desires openly
Than to believe that your calling is denied falsely?

Than to believe that this was all just one big test.
To see how much one can take and still act one’s best.
For what good is talent if it can’t find the light?
Nothing more than a curse on one’s back for others’ delight?

So I validate myself if that is how it must be.
I am God if I am the only one who can see
The power of rhythm and knowledge that flows through me.
I am God you see and I mean no disrespect.
For you have this same power if you would only reflect

Within the powerful flow of energy inside your consciousness
That is connected to everything around you which is infinitely limitless.
So as I end this circular flow of words and thought
I realize that God can neither be sold nor bought.

Poison Jewels


Ten days to prove my love.
To find a gift to show how above
it all my feelings for my family are to thee.
How my love should not be bought for free.

As the Grinch stole Christmas I didn’t want it back.
He could have kept it and never gotten attacked
by me for having the forethought to kill this greed.
How over-consumption has become our creed.

Spend more on me and you will see
How much more love you will get from me.
Buy me plastic toys from sweat shop rice paddies
Lay them at my feet and I will say I love you daddy.

As our world is crying and melting before our eyes.
We talk a good talk then buy more junk to throw into a trunk
when the Holidays have ended and our kids no longer care
for the poison jewels we have laid at their feet so bare.

So pure was their flesh when they greeted this planet.
Then we slowly inundate them with objects that would end it.
Their purity that drifted down the creek as we let our BlackBerrys beep.
Texting while driving and trying to keep the kids from crying.

As the United Nations sits in Copenhagen to make big decisions.
I believe we should make a choice that would create much division.
Let us stop buying  gifts for Christmas altogether.
Let us celebrate it by holding hands as we say a short prayer.

Let us not embrace the garbage we are trying to quit producing.
Let us stop buying the stuff that keeps us polluting.
Let our children learn to fill their emptiness with love.
Let our love be more than stuff that is flown in from high above.

Let Christmas not be about stuff that is disposable.
Let us make all our gifts by hand and make them indispensable.
Let us tell stories about the man who was named Jesus.
Let us talk about how he lived and what that should mean to us.

Early Adapter

  I have been clicking a mouse for years.  
  Clicking and typing to make my fears  
  subside by paying my growing bills.  
  Learning to find perfection in strokes and fills  

  Gradients, vector, bitmap and pixel alignment.  
  To find excitement through a new assignment.  
  To learn new technology along the way.  
  To see the connections that always say  

  That all of this is part of one thing.  
  Be it a brush or a computer to make it bling.  
  These are just tools we use to tell our stories.  
  Just tools we use to help find our glory.  

  I have seen the dot com bubble come and go.  
  I have seen the birth of web 2.0.  
  I have been a little guy on the chain of command.  
  I have run a team fulfilling many client’s demands.  

  I have been an early adapter of new technology.  
  I get emails from companies asking me to beta test their strategy.  
  I have donated my energy to help many a venture.  
  I have seen start-ups come and go and felt the adventure.  

  I have connected the dots between paint and the digital.  
  I have continued to learn as it becomes less and less physical.  
  I have welcomed the coming revolution that has begun.  
  I see the digital as a possible savior for the far flung  

  Ideas that are right on the horizon to help humanity.  
  To break the chains of repeated history and discard our vanity.  
  To help break the cycle of human rights oppression.  
  To help find peace and freedom as life’s eternal lesson.  

My Near Death Experience


The shot heard round the world
was in my head as I was released instead
from this body of restraints as I sped
through a long vortex of light while my body still lay in bed.

I was being led by entities it would seem.
As they beamed knowledge and probed my body
inserting machines as if I were their long lost prodigy.
As if they had been patiently waiting for me.

Tiles of moving color of a geometric dome
enveloped me in a cocoon and welcomed me home.
I could sense my father as if he were right there.
As if he had been waiting, playing basketball near.

I could feel the energy that flows throughout the universe.
I could see in an instant stars and galaxies giving birth.
As I laid witness to infinity and its totality
I understood the pain and suffering and its banality.
I remembered the body I left as it lay down below.

I thought how silly this whole experiment had been.
How life is like waiting in line for a prize that we all win.
That the physical life is a price we must pay
To experience all of this beauty and eternity one day.

A calming light pulled me closely to it.
It told me without words not to forget.
That there are deeds left undone I still must do.
That I must go back down and love my family anew.
That I could always return to the light that I now know exists.

And then like a car bomb I was blown back down.
My consciousness hit hard and enveloped the ground.
As I opened my eyes I knew what I saw.
Sacred patterns illuminated a beautiful white dove.
That peace was inevitable and it comes from above.

Written in honor of the one year anniversary of my first brain surgery (12-10-08) and for all who have felt like they have experienced death and lived to tell the tale.

Slaughtered Sheeple


I am only seventeen and I can not breathe.
The violence and bombings have intoxicated me.
I can not sleep at night seeing the blood of my people
Strewn all over the street as if they are slaughtered sheeple.

Five car bombs bursting in air, killing 130 civilians living in despair.
Civilians just trying to get to work and make an honest day’s pay.
To take care of their families and find peace along the way.
Commuting back and forth their lives quickly stolen away.

As I walk through the streets the blood is knee deep.
I use the wheelbarrow just given to me to pick up the human meat.
Of body parts and intestines from the ones who left this world.
As their souls were blown from their bodies as if flying pearls.

They say my bloodline goes back as far as Genghis Khan.
Those genes do me no good because I am just another pawn.
Trying to maintain a smile when I say my morning prayers
with a layer of bone and flesh all over the streets while I am there.

How can I not want retaliation or vengeance?
How do I ask for forgiveness for those who slaughtered innocents?
If there is a Hell I might already be there?
Maybe there is a God and he will someday prevail?

He will heal our hearts and minds and make them less disdainful.
He will smite down the infidels who masquerade as the faithful.
He will lift up my people from the generations of painful
wars and battles that have laid their claim full.

Wise Planet


There are those who didn’t believe.
They called it all a lie and did not relieve
the stresses that the scientists had begun to see.
More worried about their money than about you or me.

Copenhagen came and went without a decision.
The countries were all fired up but continued their division
On climate change policy that would impact our future world.
The poorest of countries will be impacted the most.

The ones who were the poison’s host will have little time to boast.
Who knows the implications of this indecision.
Signs are popping up all over the world for a specific date.
2012 many predict is the year we have been dealt.
The cards are not stacked in our favor and will soon be felt.

When the ice caps melt and the waters begin to rise?
Where will we migrate to with no money to prize?
How will we eat or drink with no products to buy?
We hoped our technology would save us but it must have been a lie.

Maybe a New World Order is needed it would seem.
Maybe it is not a government conspiracy but in our DNA.
When a species becomes overpopulated earth always has the final say.
It will thin us out like any overabundant chemical.
Because Earth’s evolution has always been cyclical.

I do not fear this coming change that seems to be inevitable.
I look to it as part of the universal plan.
To establish order out of chaos no matter the time span.
A life form has risen and has eaten this planet alive.
This planet will not take this much longer and continue to survive.

This planet is stronger and wiser than we have given it credit.
It knows its limits and when they have been exceeded.
It knows what we are doing and how to relieve it.

New Swirled Order

Conspiracy to illuminate patterns upon your crops.
To make you feel there is something on top.
Looking down and projecting its energy on us.

Or spaceships from another dimension paying us a little attention.
Writing out the code that we should all see.
To realize that there is something larger than you and me.
Patterns, math and science as design objects we can touch.

Maybe stomped all over the world by unemployed artists during lunch.
All of these patterns can not be man made I believe.
An ancient natural order as old as Adam and Steve.

New Age propaganda to give us puzzles maybe?
To see order in chaos to make us believe?
To cast doubts on our Gods and beliefs it would seem.
To make us look at the amazing and possibly concede.
That we are as small as microbes and know as much.

No words can explain the mysteries around me.
Only simple adjectives that don’t give them the glory.
Patterns in the wood paneling across your room.
Patterns when I close my eyes that often bloom.

Call these patterns what you will if you trust.
Call them God.
Call them Allah.
Call them Buddha.
Call them Jesus.
Call them Nature.
Call them Aliens.
Call them all a Hoax if you must.
I’ll call them Beautiful and be just fine as such.

A Storm is Brewing

The Road

Dead barren lands we travel.
Wake and fall out of our lean-to shelters.
Clothes in tatters and souls nearly shattered.
Holding each others’ hands we gather.

I look into your eyes and I know nothing.
I impart no truths or wisdom other than my love.
As I know nothing more to leave you.
Nothing from my prior culture that is truer.

Like mites we cling to the thin skin of this world.
Surviving another day so we can sustain this love.
Death sees us and is following from above.
No idea how many lives have been spared.

How many souls bear the load and stress of living.
Have continued to scour the earth for each day.
Have fought each day not to die.
To wake with another.
To love another.
To not have to kill their brother.

Like dogs we sniff garbage and detritus.
Like vermin we bite through leather for pleasure.
To fill our stomachs when nothing else will measure.

Bodies along the road burnt and crisp.
We all knew it would soon come to this.
We have been planning and wishing it to end forever.
Our religions have promised us rapture for our pain.

And this is what we were given again.
Like premature man walking the ancient lands.
Our life sentence is to find water and fire and warmth.
Storing plastic tarps and fabrics that will outlast any flesh.
Wrap your cold and blistered feet and body with distress.

The road continues ahead and the good guys always win.
As we both fight the cold, rain and wind.
As we get off the road and huddle together.
What is the long term plan?
The social animal just trying to survive.
Trying to find others like him who are still alive.

Other animals to pass our fire to.
Other animals to pass our lies to.
Stories of how mankind had everything.
Stories of how mankind became unglued.
Ashes to ashes.
Dust to dust.

At dusk we must seek shelter for us.
A storm is brewing, that much you can trust.

The one true God is blind


The one true God is judging me.
He looks through your eyes and sees.
He thinks of how I have not turned to him
and bowed my knee to you.

Through your eyes he watches us
bomb countries and children in the name of him.
Through your eyes he worships
and loves and sees all of them.

The one true God is judging you.
Through your eyes he sees your deeds.
How you’ve raped this planet and not raised a hand.
How you’ve thought of conspiracy throughout the land.

Through my eyes he sees you too.
How you size me up and and think of my lost soul.
How you talk openly about your savior
as if we all live in a fish bowl.

The one true God is judging us all.
As we fight over social issues and things that might
make the difference in each others lives.
As we fight over faith vs. science instead of human rights.

Through our eyes God is blind.
Because we don’t see but judge each other.
Because we don’t see the love within one another.
Because we would rather kill than be kind.

The one true God is dead.
Because we know only vengeance instead
of the infinite love and understanding we should bestow
throughout the five senses we all share and know.

Adams to Jefferson #7

Self-Portrait as Saint Mixed Media 1999, Ken Vallario

Dear Jefferson, I have known only one as blessed as you.
You have so many gifts it would be hard to list.
You are a thinker of the utmost and highest right.
You continue to share your gifts to all our delights.

When you could easily have turned a blind eye.
You do not have to serve others by and by.
You could have decided to take on a craft or profession.
But you continue to battle with your words and ideas
The demons that we all face in each others confession.

You and I know the urgency of our mission.
As I believe we have been blessed to share our gifts
and to bring unity to all peoples with our unique vision.
A Messiah complex we may contain but I believe we may

Wake up one day and realize that the Messiah is within us all.
And to think that one can not save all is a true blasphemy.
That one must save themselves before we fix our own chemistry.
The cure for mankind’s wicked nature lies within you and me.

And everyone who decides to take up the torch and see
That all men are created equal, if and only if they decide to help decipher
Their destiny and seek peace and unity in the sacred moments
where we open our eyes to realize the beauty within us all.

This can only be accomplished with engagement my dear friend.
You must continue to be relentless with your words and actions.
You must create and write as if a demon is attacking your pen.
This demon cast doubts about our security and enslaves our thoughts within.

By making us believe we are insignificant and not worthy to speak out.
So as I read this early story by young Jefferson from years ago
of which I knew in another lifetime during the responsibility we would both forgo.
I remember that man and what passions and dreams he would often shout.

How he was and IS well equipped to battle the demons within.
That he lived recklessly and with adventure as did we all back then.
But he did not question his calling because he knew he had it all.
By the balls.