I Have A Dream

I have a Dream
Where billionaires scrub toilets
And answer other peoples' phones
Until they become Democrats

I have a Dream
Where house cleaners
And kitchen workers
Make a livable wage

I have a Dream
Where youths
Receive an education
Without crushing debt

I have a Dream
Where people
Can receive healthcare
Without going bankrupt

I have a Dream
Where public funds
Are used for their intended purpose

I have a Dream
Where the forever war ends
And there's no more profit for blood

I have a Dream
Something like my youth
Where kids didn't get shot at school

I have a Dream
Where the law
Targets racism
Instead of melanin

I have a Dream
But it's only a dream

ART POST: "Lluvia" 5/22/19

Boxing Coach And Personal Trainer In Your Neighborhood

I've been fortunate to have great coaches and training partners and I love sharing what I've learned from them.  I trained boxing and Muay Thai under Melchor Menor, Mike Lemaire and Danny Perez starting in 2011.  I competed as an amateur.  I began teaching boxing and kickboxing in 2016.

I grew up in San Diego.  I played sports and did fitness training my whole life (literally since T-Ball when I was 4 years old).  One thing I love about San Diego is I get to run, train and ride my bicycle outdoors year-round.

Besides training, my other interests are reading, writing, running, bicycling, meditating, playing the guitar, drawing, cooking, travelling, spending time with friends and family, and doing live poetry and story telling performances.

Solitary Man

Loneliness and solitude are different
Solitude is a choice
Loneliness feels forced on you
Loneliness is a prison

Solitude is an escape
A chance to swim in your own tide pool
Without the waves of others crashing in

Loneliness and solitude are also the same
Because you're alone either way
The only real difference is how you look at it
Were you forced into it, like a prisoner
Or did you leave on purpose, like a monk
Maybe it was a little of both

But don't fret being alone
The only difference between solitude and loneliness
Is how you look at it

Lucky Man

A lucky man
Knows what he has
He doesn't guess about the future
He knows it's out of his hands

He lets disturbances pass
He seeks peace
He lets love in

He does what he wants
And tells others to do the same
Because he cares about them

He knows the value of his attention
And gives it wisely

He believes in himself
Because he knows himself

Maybe he is lucky
Or maybe he is just good

S.O.S.

Our community is under attack
The United States is under attack
Democracy is under attack
By Donald Trump and a few billionaire cunts

That's not a hyperbole

They're called gerrymandered voting districts
The electoral college is nowhere in the Constitution
And if it was
We should take that shit out of there
Because my vote counts
Just as much as someone from Philadelphia

We are being robbed

Not just of our livelihood
But of our voice
Our environment
Our society
Our world

The rich are robbing the poor
And the poor are going to jail for it
And kids are getting shot in schools for it
And animals are going extinct for it
And we will be next

And all I can do is write this poem

Waiting For Daylight

Take your promise for tomorrow
And shove it up your ass

I've been promised tomorrow
Too many times

Make me a promise
I can touch
And taste
And feel
And smell

I've heard too many promises
And spent too much time looking at the future

Show me now
Or don't show me at all

I'm not waiting for daylight
Daylight never comes
And I don't have time for promises

The Road To Nowhere

I can't complain
This is the road I chose

I didn't do it for riches
Or for gold

I did it to be free
But I am still shackled

The anxiety is a constant companion
A roommate I never wanted

I'd kick that fucker out today
If only I knew how

I can shut him up for a minute
But I know he'll be back

The next time I need groceries
Or pull up to the pump

He'll be back next time I want to buy coffee
Or go out on a date

And he'll definitely be back
Next time I want to buy weed
To ease the stress he's caused me

Why don't you just kill that motherfucker?
Get rid of him once and for all?
The good for nothing son of a bitch

I tried
But I can't kill the fact that I need money
This motherfucker just won't die

A Saturday Night Witching: She Stole My Words

Yesterday I met a woman who astounded me.  It was a launch party for a magazine she published.  She read it out loud in front of everyone.  It was a packed house.  The truth of her words hit me and woke things up inside of me I hadn't felt.

I tried to talk to her afterwards.  The first time, all I could get out was like, "Great job" or "awesome" or some generic bullshit like that.  I had nothing for her.  Then I shook her hand.  There were other people around her trying to talk to her, so I went up to the front and bought a copy of her magazine while I tried to think of something to say.

I still hadn't thought of anything to say to her on the way out, so I decided to go up the street and drink a beer and read her magazine.  Hopefully, that would get the wheels turning.  I left my bike back at the party, so I had a reason to come back and talk to her again once the crowd left.

I drank my beer, read her magazine and walked back to the party.  Thankfully she was still there.

"Hey, I'm Eddie."

We shake hands and she gives me her name.  I still couldn't come up with one word for her, so I followed the same rule that I follow for writing which is "always start with one true sentence."

"I just drank a beer and read your magazine and I had to come back and talk to you.  I really enjoyed it."

She smiled at that, which meant it was a good first sentence.  Then there was a pause.  I looked for sentence number two, but it didn't come.  She was looking at me, waiting for me to say something.  And I had nothing.  I wanted to give her all the love and praise and admiration n the world.  I was fascinated by her.  I wanted to give her everything.  And I had nothing.  No words.  I was dumbfounded and speechless.  I was completely awestruck by her.  I couldn't get another word out.

"That's it."

When I said, "That's it," I saw her face drop.  She was looking at me like, "Are you kidding me?  That's it?  That's the best you have?"  And it was.  I had nothing.  The only thing I can compare it to is being with the most beautiful woman of your life and not being able to get hard-on.  I have never felt so useless.

I had no idea what to say.  And she knew it too.  She looked at me like, "you're an idiot."  And I was like, "I know."  I've never been so disappointed in myself.

There were a million things I wanted to say.  How could I possibly be expected to process all of that within the span of one beer in twenty minutes?  Hopefully I see her again.  I won't forget her name.  It's on my bookshelf now.

ART POST: "Resilience" 5/2/19

This illustration is called "Resilience" because it was an exercise in resilience.  I screwed it up badly at the beginning.  There were lines that did not turn out where they were supposed to be.  I laid them down with a gel pen, so there were no do-overs.  I considered starting over, but I decided to stick it out because that's how I am and because I have successfully salvaged drawings in the past.  Sure enough, I was able to make some adjustments and come out with a passable illustration.  I feel like I grew as a draftsman for having the confidence and fortitude to stick it out.

I like that the look on her face is resilient.  Does she look like she's going to stay down?  Nah.  She's ready to kick ass.

ART POST: "Fierceness" 5/1/19

This drawing is called "Fierceness."  These minimalist impressions were inspired by Patrick Nagel.  I always saw his work in hair salons and thought it was dope.