Part I:

Giddy & twirly peeling away the pretty petals of new-found morning glories,

She gives the horizon a skeptical look,

like her sideways-glares

through rearview mirrors.

Snapping her head back, a free-formed laughter escapes

 from her throat,

with shoulders shaking and

belly concaving.

It echoes unexplained, like recent endeavors that

skid beneath the radar and

disappear into the firmament of

the absurd & THE meaningless.

Smirking at the past she pounds at the pavement, despite its lessons of bruises and merciless guerrilla tactics. The rhythmic steps beat out a path unknown, like all the paths that have led her to

This

                        leveled Sunday afternoon.

"Ain’t no thing but the present sista", whisper the cigar-puffing gentlemen,

pursuing her time, and

feeding her lines and

 slipping her dimes.

she caves & crumbles

dropping notions at the confrontation

of these deceptions,

repeated through

guarded neighbors and

shameless media.

May-bay bay-bay, a swirl of the hair, Fists (?!?)  in the air for a "Just Don’t Care" (?!?)…

Then everything falls into place,

Reaching

anticipated homeostasis,

With a half-assed home run,

that skimmed on the bases…

I say let, you say Go . Let, go. Go! Go! Go! Go.., no matter how, just see where it takes you…

Part II:

Free they grew, and free the morning-glories become bedtime stories.

Interweaving morals of heroes

and horrors of zeros and

 melodies of magic and

 notes of nonsense.

It is alllllllllllllllllright.

And in the end,

they are just attempts

to define the:

 impalpable.

How’s your daily haul of incessant texting, apathetic stances, and rampaging hormones?

Did you remember to roll your eyes at the cheeriness of others?

Or were your side bangs blocking your vision?

Maybe we should go to the mall sometime,

And complain about everything,

minute details included,

And giggle at cute boys-

    who are actually older men,

        whose motives are questionable.

Or maybe, we can give ‘hopeless future’ a call,

And see what sort of indie-grungy stereotype MTV would offer then-

Oh the irony of hobo bags, pre-ripped jeans, and vintage falling apart excuses for clothing:

An

accurate

depiction

of

internal…

teenage…

confliction.

As part of the "JCCSF Art & Healing Program", this presentation was very spiritually focused but not denominational. Mr. Albom sincerely illustrated his "seize the day" beliefs in order to inspire others to follow suit. His repetition of "giving is living" almost became the mantra of the night. He threw out many metaphors and life lessons at the audience, but never in a preachy way. He compared life to an hourglass by explaining that every drop of sand is the same, from the first three to the very last one. However, he clarified, most people tend to assume that we have "an endless amount of sand" in this hourglass. According to him, people are so consumed with the material and superficial aspects of life that they don’t realize when the last piece of sand drops, none of those obsessions matter. What matters most is the love you gave and received.

As corny as these ideas sound, it was refreshing to hear them from such a genuine voice. Mr. Albom didn’t have any ulterior motives such as selling more books because he is already successful with his sales. Instead, he wanted to connect with his audience to inspire them through his stories and anecdotes. To illustrate one point, Mr. Albom remembered the callers from the planes that crashed into the Twin Towers on 9/11. With a soft voice he beckoned, "The people on these flights didn’t call home to remind their loved ones to take care of their cars or homes when they would pass on, they all called to say the same thing, ‘I love you’." While these people were seconds away from death, they did what made them feel the most alive: pass on their love and hear that it was returned."

A little uncomfortable at this sudden shift in mood, I glanced around the audience of about a hundred My two friends and I were by far the youngest in the room and many others around us were tearing up. I wondered if many of us too desensitized by the traumas in the media and around us to take full advantage of everything life has to offer on a daily basis. I pondered this as Mr. Albom continued to cover other topics such as money, aging, and forgiveness. He was quick to admit that he himself has never been a model for expressing gratitude or happiness and it cost him sixteen years with one of the most important people in his life, a college professor who was once a best friend.

To find out the story of Mr. Albom and his inspirational professor Morrie Schwartz, I highly recommend reading Tuesdays with Morrie. The central theme revolves around Mr. Albom discovering that his favorite professor whom he had lost touch with, was in the last months of his life. Each chapter focuses on a different lesson learned from the Tuesdays they spent together until he died. In the lecture, Mr. Albom extrapolated on the struggles with coping with such a tremendous loss. He explained that he came to terms with it by realizing that while death ends life, the relationship lives on. However, he suggested that the relationships live on only if you invest in them now. He believes that the time spent excessively toning at the gym or wasting hours in front of a makeup mirror or a television set should be replaced with time spent working on the relationships we care about. It takes a lot of courage to admit that one has failed on these fronts so I admire that Mr. Albom wants us to learn from his mistake of missing sixteen years with one of the most amazing people in his life.

The highlight of my night was when my question was answered. Upon entering the lecture, everyone in the audience received a pencil and a piece of paper with which to write a question for the author. I asked if Mr. Albom had a message for the youth and out of all the questions, it was among the four that he chose to answer. I agreed with his views that our generation seems to be obsessed with being seen. "For many young adults out there," Mr. Albom began, "it is all about how many hits they can get on Youtube, how many "friends" they can get on myspace, and how many comments they can receive on their pictures. What’s lacking is the effort to make sure there is substance behind such constant exposure." He insisted that teens are often desperate for attention, but when they finally get it, they don’t think about what to do with it. A young woman can stand on top of a table in a crowded bar with her shirt off and get plenty of interest, but is that what she wants to receive recognition for? Is that the kind of attention she wants? Young people constantly compete for attention in the media, online, and in their communities. But what if their seven minutes of fame actually made a difference toward causes- such as the genocide in Darfur, as opposed to breaking news on CNN being Paris Hilton getting arrested for drunk driving? What kind of world would that be? Definitely a better one, which is why I value platforms for creative expression such as Bamboozled and it is reassuring to hear sentiments like this echoed by successful authors such as Mitch Albom.

This evening was surreal because the creative force of the books that I turned to when I struggled with the loss of loved ones was finally manifested in front of me. When I actually met Mr. Albom I blurted out what most "star-struck" people say, "You’re amazing, I really love what you do." But my enthusiasm was appreciated so I got my book autographed. I don’t know what I expected from this lecture but I did not expect to be bombarded with the emotional weight of relating the mentioned concepts to my life. However, it was gratifying to reflect on life from Mitch Albom’s lens during this regular weekday, especially since this lecture could have easily been replaced with random errands or tedious tasks. I wondered if the rest of the audience was thinking of people in their lives that they could clear up animosity with or people for which they could express more gratitude for. While hearing one lecture or reading some books is not going to change an entire person’s outlook on life, the motivation to improve a life can be implanted from these things. "Giving is living" and Mr. Albom certainly gave me that.

It’s a personal journey
That one often takes,
when a loved one
is on that gurney.

“can’t believe that just happened” and “wish we never mets”

Shake,

stir,

and sprinkle xylophone melody,

A life all set out, but not just for anybody.

…Gay cowboys & junkie acrobats

sexified leather, and lazy-eyed cats…

(My life is) THC that will always linger,

the chords belted out by an untamed singer

Spilled ink
blotted out my conscience
a long time ago

and as the days grow longer,
so does your ego

doesn’t matter cuz the sand dunes always shift.

and one thing i’ve learned, your spirits do lift.

{this paradigm shifts like the hands of a clock,

mirrors don’t mistake and mirrors don’t mock}

we are all specimen being aged to perfection,

merely the creator’s own reflection.