Saturday, October 30, 2010

It was a history lesson
so they peeled the dried skin off the rocks
and found little diamonds made of water
while feeling like thieves.

And before they knew it
they were dark skinned and frail
realizing that beauty didn't mean pleasure
and much to their dismay
hard didn't mean sweet.

Instead of wandering
they had found their mates
and hid away
even though what they were doing
was no secret.

Was it important to see?
Important to hear?

Well, it was
easy to pretend
and to find a stranger
knowing that they weren't a stranger at all.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

don't forget why there is science

I feel like writing. I'm in Los Angeles, CA and I've been living here for a little over two months. I'm finding that a lot of people here like to decorate their home with inspiration from Zen Buddhism, and feel the need to connect with some form of Eastern spirituality. Except, they like the materials and the image of the idea, rather than the purpose.
While currently unemployed, I have indulged in two readings, Sophie's World and The Scientists: A history of science told through the lives of the greatest inventors. I'm learning the development of "European" philosophy and science, and the creators of these subjects. In my lense, they are inspiring individuals with extreme creativity and passion for purity in thought, through reason and curiosity. These are the fathers of philosophy, math, astronomy and more to come, and they seem just as "Christ-like" as any other spiritual figure. My particular communication goal is to put clearly the fact that science and philosophy were set forth with good, honest intention. Unfortunately, through some force of "evil," it has been manipulated and abused by groups such as Pharmaceutical companies, Nuclear chemists etc.
The concrete goals for thought such as how does the universe work, where does an idea come from, and nature vs. nurture, were created through method and specific people searching for meaning. I think it is unwise to appreciate or not appreciate an idea, without understanding how it came to be, and the people that played rolls in a historical evolution.

Sunday, October 3, 2010


I love Pho.

Especially when I am sick --- today I feel itchy and achy in every region above my neck.

Unfortunately I woke up and ate a bagel with lox so I'm not hungry enough for Pho yet, but I know as soon as I indulge it is going to make me feel a whole lot better (I am Jewish and Scandinavian. There is no way I can not love smoked salmon).

I've been dreaming very vividly for the past two months, and using it to write poetry. Here's the poem I wrote after waking up this morning:

I was on a train
the kind that circled around a tree
the passengers weren't all human
but a replica of Martin Luther King Jr was there.

So Oprah turned it into a game
and we didn't care because she was rich
and when we returned to school
with fat wallets and wet hair
the cupcakes weren't a surprise
in fact they were forgotten.

The search was to find money
and put it into the right order.
You couldn't leave the room with your stash
but out was where the bowl was
the bowl promised to be filled with the most cash.
But, leaving your money inside, while you were out
gave others the opportunity to snatch.

My dad knew where the bowl was
inside the maracas in the garage.
Peeling open the packaging I found just a toy mouse inside
and we laughed for having easily found it
watching all the paranoid players
taking the risk
to find something
that wasn't even there.