Wooden rocking chair.

Slowly rocking in the breeze,
Enjoying the soft sun rays,
But change is coming.

Out comes the brush,
Followed by a can of paint.
Must cover that natural tone,
So that it will match the house.

Slowly the grain disappears,
Hidden beneath the stain.
Bright white pasted roughly,
Enwrapping the beautiful tan.

As it dries in the solar warmth,
Only it’s form hasn’t changed.
But it keeps a secret from the world,
Underneath it’s dressing it’s still brown.



Late Night Thoughts.

red skull

I am a night owl. Sometimes life steals my joy for the moonlit hours. A Job that requires rising early, classes that pressure me to sleep early, even more. But as of now I have nothing restraining my nocturnal habits. With the silence that fills the air, when the world rests their heads to their pillows, my mind is allowed to do what it does best. Over-analyze everything, over-think the events of the day, week, year. And I fucking love it!

I have let my mind wander through recent happenings of my life. I have moped, I have cried, and let myself feel morose. I have felt rage, and lashed out. But I have also laughed, and smiled, and loved. I will again cry, probably soon, and I know I will smile and laugh even sooner, and hopefully more often.

What I know, is that people we let in our lives have the ability to destroy us, crumble the pillars that hold us upright. But, it is also people we bring in our lives, that help hold us up. They will help build us back up stronger and and support us when another tempest hits our shores.

I look at my entire life, so far, and I see beautiful poetry. It is written in every event, every choice, and every consequence. I see the ebb and flow of pain and happiness, and it is glorious. I wonder if everyone sees the prose of their own life. Maybe it is just those that choose to see it.

My sonnet is far from over, but I am sure that when it comes to its close, and the last verse is upon me, I will be glad that the content of it will make me proud to be the one who penned it.

Until later days,

Kleine Schmetterling

Fluttering wings gracefully travelling,
moving swiftly across the field.
Flower to flower it rests intermittently,
giving little care to the rest of the world.

I capture it gently between my hands,
feeling its light touches on my palm.
Slowly opening my grasp of its fragile body,
admiring the vibrant colors as it escapes.

It floats so sweetly back into my palms,
as if it can sense I mean it no harm.
Gracing me with its time so precious,
For its life quickly passes faster than mine.

Awestruck, Amazed, and Amused,
This beautiful creature, sharing its glory.
I want nothing more than to soak it in,
like the rays of the sun upon my skin.

Thank you little butterfly,
You brighten my day.
You bring so much joy,
Even though your company may be fleeting.


– Josef LeBlanc

Just a musing.

I don’t know where this post will go, I know it wont be like my normal writing. This is more of a finger diarrhea. So much has happened in my life the past week or so.

Where to start? Well a couple weeks back I quit my job. I absolutely loathed the place. They abuse the FLSA exempt status of their salary employees. There were weeks I put in 60, 70, even 90 hours without much compensation. I had a racist employee whom even after I filed a complaint on still is employed by the company. I am not one to pull out the race card. I think it is one of the most overused “whoa is me” excuses. But she made many of my customers uncomfortable with her derogatory words towards Hispanics. Along with literally telling me I am nothing but a, “Fucking Fat Mexican!” That is unacceptable. While I was a supervisor, I tried to get the company to raise the pay of future employees because hiring and keeping quality employees was difficult. It wasn’t a good environment for me to be in, and I had to leave. I have yet to find a job but I am looking.

I started a relationship that I am not sure where it is going yet, but I love her face to the moon and back, and I am not comfortable putting any more than that for everyone to read so I will leave it at that.

My great uncle was admitted to the hospital this past week. I came to visit him and he isn’t doing well. He and I havent always had a solid relationship, but he is my Oma’s only brother, I do love him, and I worry about her. I accepted my own mortality a long time ago. I continuously stare down Death, tell him to fuck off and today is not the day he gets to take me. But when I am in the presence of a family member I grew up knowing and having conversations with laying looking helpless, with that asshole Death standing in the corner, it is hard to deal with. It is harder when I am dealing with my anxiety issues.

I am not comfortable going to church. I go with my family to keep my mother happy. I have my own spirituality that I am happy with and it isn’t the way that my mom isn’t happy with but she accepts.  Anyway, A couple of times I have gone to church, I have had really bad anxiety attacks. This morning was one of them. I am not sure what triggers them. I attribute them to being in the middle of the pew surrounded by people I don’t know. I feel trapped, and tears start pouring from my eyes. I don’t feel sad, but I can’t help from crying. I hate it. I don’t like crying, I don’t like feeling hopeless.

So I sit here on my sister’s couch, it is my second home, drinking a KCCO White wheat, spewing continuously what seems to be a bunch of just random thoughts. DGAF.

Till later days.

Ink me baby one more time.

Héctor the octopus
Héctor the octopus
The jolly roger
The jolly roger
Krieg und frieden
Krieg und frieden


I have six tattoos, four pictured here. I couldnt find pictures of the other two and i am too lazy to ask my coworker to take pictures of them. Each one has significance to who i am.

My newest tattoo is Héctor the octopus which is pictured first. I have always found Cephalopods to be one of the most interesting creatures. They are highly intelligent invertebrates, who adapt instantaneously to their environment. Avid hunters, but are some times prey for other predators. I fancy myself to be similar to the octopus so it seemed to be a logical tattoo choice.

The second tattoo pictured is a tattoo I’ve had for about 11 years. Everyone should recognize the jolly roger. I decided to add the mohawk to the classic jolly roger. It represents the group of friends i had in the army,and we called ourselves the land locked pierats. We were young and rebellious and understood we were tools of war. Pawns of military-industrial complex, accepting or fate that we may die at any moment in service to our nation and embracing death as a comrade and natural order.

The last two are my guns. They are .44 magnums with krieg and frieden (war and peace) embossed on the barrels. I have had a saying since my time in the military that goes, “Only death can take my sword!” I won’t stop fighting for what i believe in, until my heart stops beating. Krieg is on my right arm which is my dominant hand. It’s the arm i favor in throwing punches and the one that pulls the trigger on my firearms. Frieden is on my left arm close to my heart.

I also have a battle worn Texas flag on a sabre because being a Texan is who i am and I’m proud to be one.

I want more, so many more. The urge for needle and ink to create beautiful art on a living canvas is always present. They are not for everybody, but for those who have them they understand the want for more. I’m just debating on what to get next.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Tattoo….You?.”