Cross My Heart and Hope to Write


Sunday, April 28, 2013

Fight For Your Passion: Omasum

Don't second guess yourself. 
If you feel it, if you taste it, if you can't escape it, embrace it. 

Everyone has a passion. Some of us are consumers, indulging in things or experiences. Some of us are producers, people who have a drive to create things. Some of us are both, but nearly all of us has a passion. All of us has something we are passionate about. 

Is there something you can't live without? Is there something that motivates you against your will? There are good addictions and there are bad addictions. Bad addictions destroy you. Good addictions sustain you. They can be hobbies, they can be interests, they are things that make you happy and help you reconnect with yourself. Often, it is when we are enraptured in our passions that we feel most alive.

In the hustle and bustle of contemporary reality, it is sometimes hard to find the energy and the time to feed those passions. We feel the drive, we feel the desires, but we convince ourselves there are more worth-while things to be done. That is you denying yourself. That is your heart telling you what you need. It's a hunger - feed it!

This life is a gift. That means it has been given to you and you own it, so you do whatever you wish with it. Would you rather pursue your passions and fail or never pursue them and never unlock your full potential? Don't be afraid to stop EVERYTHING and GO!!! 

Book signing for DBAM at Stony Brook University


The iridescent taffeta that covers my stain glass bones
Builds a wickiup of plasma that smolders and corrodes
And this algid patina that covers my radiant face
Keeps from the world the smile that it scolds.

In the black and white albedo of a lunatic sphere
That bleeds a curious complexion, both brutal and queer,
Its prism projects molten opal upon the cardboard race,
Who communicate with buttoned lips and listen with biased ears.

While they fold in their lackadaisical limbs,
Taking off their hats, splitting their lips upon the brims,
I cast my crystal cobwebs across their noses in disgrace,
Listening as gravity crinkles my thorny heart like tin.

I can hear its asperous teeth dig into it like pi
As that morose masquerading marionette in the sky
Continues to encircle me, soldering my carcass in place,
As the golems peregrinate around the apocryphal sty.  

Listening to the masticating music as it unfolds,
Transcending the bitter warmth and sweltering cold
Until a dynamic paralysis trickles into the case
Of alligator skin that covets this once human mold.

And what I knew of longing seems to gangrene into fear.
That gentle glow has turned to tarp, through which I’m forced to peer
Upon a smithereen of what was once my cosmic base, 
Which I snatch up starvingly like a begrudged souvenir     

Until that nimbus vulture that emblazons my chagrin,
Hovering like a noxious conversation that’s been drawn too thin,
Bursts like an aneurism, cascading naked shards of space
That land upon my gasoline tongue, quite saccharine. 

And I taste the aureola, combusted before my elytroid eyes;
And I collapse onto a padded pedestal, whose pain is amplified; 
And as my heart gallops off, its bent-in bruises throttle its pace,
Until it too is smeared across the flippant canvas and dies. 

There I fall like argyle rain
In the foyer of consequential refrain,
Collecting like autumn leaves
In puddles of psychedelic disdain.
I cachinnate at all the almighty delusions I sought to free,
Yet I still pursue the jaundiced cud that trundles out of me.

Shout Out
I met a guy through the grapevine who has his own poetry blog and is trying to get people excited about his writing, especially his new book. His name is Plot 121 and his work spans a large swathe of themes. Check out his blog and support your local artists. Much love.

Friday, April 19, 2013

The Strongest Kind of Love

I have a question for my devout readers, one that I have asked friends and colleagues, and am always surprised and intrigued by the number of responses I get.

What is the strongest kind of love?

The most popular answer seems to be the love a mother has for her child or the love shared between siblings. Though I am fairly certain I am not a mother, I absolutely can see without a doubt the strength of that connection. As for sibling love, I know that if it weren't for the genetic relatedness inherent in the DNA of the blood coursing through myself and my brother's respective veins, I would probably hate the guy. Yet, I love the kid - always have, always will. So to that end, it certainly is quite strong.

My answer, however, is a bit more general: I argue that the strongest kind of love is one where - no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try, no matter what anyone or anything else tells you - you can't not love them. Think about the two examples I just gave. A mother can't choose to not be the mother of her child. She likewise can't not love her child. I can't choose to not be my brother's brother and for the same reason I can't not love him. Or is there indeed a choice?
Are there other instances in which one could love someone so much that, no matter what, they will still love them? A situation in which relatedness is not involved? I would say yes.
I think, ironically, the love we feel for ourselves isn't built this way, but it should be. The love of the self should stand strong, even in the face of our mistakes, our regrets, our flaws. No matter what, you should love yourself.
Let's take this even further. I think - in very unique circumstances - someone could meet someone else, fall in love, and, even if the relationship dissolves, even if they have a falling out, they move on, they still retain that same undeniable love, no matter what. This can happen between friends or lovers. I think it is a rarity, but even if the other person goes on and falls in love with someone else, that unconditional love will persist between them, maybe even only by one person. That I think that is what unconditional love is. No matter what he or she does, no matter what conspires, no matter how much you try and push them out of your mind, to escape them, you still love them. And that's ok.

People have disagreed with me on this (some even saying, "That sounds like it sucks"), but I want to know what you guys think. What is the strongest kind of love? Leave a comment below.    

“The deepest frustration a poet must endure, having spent a life of expression through words and rhyme, is never possessing the ability (for his tools are endowed with this singular flaw) to adequately encompass that mystery we call love.”  

Monday, April 8, 2013


This post has been a long time coming, but I am honored and in awe to announce that I am officially a published author. This is truly a dream come true for me. My book, Death By Active Movement: The Certainty of Life through Poetry, has just released on The book is a collection of original poems exploring the relationship between life and death. The poems are meant to illuminate the concept of death and to show how our own evanescence, the fleeting nature of existence, is precisely the reason why life should be cherished and appreciated. All the wonderful miracles, all the pain, all the sensations, everything it means to be alive is beautiful precisely because it must all come to an end. From love, to the afterlife, suicide, and everything between, the poems cover a broad sweep of subjects, some sweet, some somber, some graphic, some grotesque, but all filled with novel ideas and powerful imagery. Thank you so much for all your support and much love to everyone who orders their copy. 
This is the pinnacle of my life thus far.  

Christine Sampson has just written an amazing article on the West Islip and Three Village Patch covering the book. Give it a read and learn a little bit more about myself and what's between the covers. I'm incredibly honored to have this distinction. Much love to Chrissy for writing the article.