“Focus on how to be social, not on how to do social.”
- Jay Baer, Convince & Convert

Most of my free-time away from work is spent in the following ways: hanging with my son, volunteering, working with men in recovery and writing. Over the last year since I began working as a volunteer Social Media consultant with Phoenix of New Orleans (PNOLA), my passion for the power of social media marketing has blossomed.

I was asked explicitly to come into the organization to help re-launch the social media aspect which was sitting somewhat stagnant. That is the unfortunate aspect of the non-profit world, most organizations do not have a budget to hire high-priced marketing people, so they rely on people with some skills in the field and hearts full of passion to make change, regardless of how little. That is where I came in. My heart was full of love for the City of New Orleans and my head was full of creative ideas to get the organization’s identity back online.

I am currently incorporating the following processes into the practices of the new non-profit, L.A. Works, where I am working currently as a project leader for this year’s service crawl.

Now, I pass these on to any non-profit volunteer groups who wants to try them with the hope that they will have an impact on the reach of your organizations into the communities that you serve. It would be great to hear how they work.

1. Make sure all electronic correspondence that goes out to anyone includes links or hot buttons to your social media channels. Like any type of communication on the Internet, it’s all a numbers game. The more people that see that your company is using Social Media, the greater the chances that they will click on your links.

2. At the beginning of each project when you are organizing volunteers into work groups and telling them about your organization, ask them the following simple questions. (A) Who has a Smartphone? Ask them to hold it up. (B) Then ask who is on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, etc. (C) Make the ask that everyone who is not following on Facebook currently to take a few minutes to log on and “like” your organization. Let everyone know that following your organization on Facebook and Twitter is a form of electronic volunteering. By supporting the organization online, they are spreading their passion for volunteering with their friends and followers. Even if you get one person who adds you, that is one person you didn’t have before the ask.

3. Along with the ask to “like” your organization, get everyone to check-in on Facebook, Foursquare, Yelp or wherever, and lead the group by creating the title for the event that you would want them to check in under. If you were at MLK Middle School, tell them to use the title, “L.A. Works Day of Service at MLK Middle School.”

4. Encourage people to have fun and take lots of pictures. Also, tell them make sure they tag themselves. This will ensure that their friends will see them in volunteering action. Ask them to upload pictures to your organizations Facebook page. Hold a photo contest for the day and reward the winners with a t-shirt or other schwag. For the contest consider using Instagram. You can easily track the contest pictures by using an event specific hashtag. Check the hashtag before you assign it for the day to make sure that it isn’t already being used.

5. If your organization has a photographer, make sure in your closing pitch for the day, that you let everyone know that pictures from the day will be up on Facebook or the company Website within a certain time frame. Let everyone know that you will follow up the event with an email so they will know when this occurs so they can share links and tag themselves to share with their followers. Let the group know that you will create a group-specific album on Facebook for their pictures. This will make it easier for people to find what they are looking for and then share only their pictures with friends.

6. Use Twitter too! Twitter is probably the fasted medium to move messages and pictures around the world. As with Instagram, make sure you create an event specific hash tag. Make sure you have someone at your organization monitor all your social media aspects and interacting with the volunteers. Creating dialogue is not only fun, but it’s necessary. Tweet at and re-tweet, volunteer tweets. Twiddly-diddly-deet! Just had to throw that in.

7. Before the group leaves for the day, ask if there are any writers in the bunch. If so, or if not, ask one or two people if they would write a short two paragraph piece about their volunteering experience. This is a great way to get a positive story from someone who has probably just been emotionally moved by the event they took part in. You can post the piece to Facebook notes, Tumblr or your organization’s blog. Make sure you get the volunteer’s information and follow up. Follow up is key to all of these processes.

8. Make sure project leaders have sign up sheets. Ask for email addresses, Twitter handles and other information that your organization can use in the future to re-engage volunteers. Create a social community.

9. Always have a giveaway, a pen or sticker, with your company’s logo and all social media contact points on it or at least the most active.

10. Always have fun! Don’t be afraid to make these asks. The Internet is now a very important part of non-profit success.

The following blog post is taken in it’s entirety from the UCLA Center for Health Equity. I wanted to share the life of a great woman.

Dr. Antronette (Toni) Yancey, professor at the UCLA Fielding School of Public Health and Co-Director of the UCLA Kaiser Permanente Center for Health Equity, who devoted her career to improving the health of vulnerable populations and eliminating health disparities, died April 23, 2013 following a battle with lung cancer. She was 55.

Yancey, a passionate advocate of healthy living through physical fitness, was widely known for creating “Instant Recess,” a unique program dedicated to “making America healthier 10 minutes at a time.” Her idea of incorporating brief bouts of physical activity into people’s daily routine, whether at school, work or worship, earned her numerous awards, including the 2012 Pioneering Innovation Award from the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

She was one of a handful of national thought leaders asked to serve on the board of directors of the Partnership for a Healthier America, the nonprofit that guided first lady Michelle Obama’s Let’s Move campaign.

Yancey’s 2010 book, “Instant Recess: Building a Fit Nation 10 Minutes at a Time,” zeroed in on the state of American fitness and health — persistently sedentary, plagued by obesity — and issued a call to action that reached across economic, racial and educational lines. Her radically new approach, which was respectful of diversity and sensitive to the cultures of those who were most at risk, made physical activity the default behavior of choice. The “Instant Recess” program continues to expand in workplaces, schools, sports stadiums, houses of worship and other places where people gather. Today, more than 37 cities have adopted policies encouraging exercise breaks during meetings that last more than an hour.

“Dr. Yancey was an extraordinary life force who made an impact on everyone she knew — from those who only met her once to those who considered her a lifelong friend,” said Dr. Jody Heymann, dean of the UCLA Fielding School of Public Health. “She has left a tremendous mark on the field of public health as a leader committed to, and exceptionally effective at, translating research into successful programs and policy, as a passionate teacher and mentor, as an acclaimed scholar and as a strong and crucial voice addressing inequities in health.”

Yancey co-founded the UCLA Kaiser Permanente Center for Health Equity, through which she championed the cause of social justice. “She was tireless in her commitment to ensure that research findings would truly transform lives. She made change happen in countless ways, from advocating for policy change and cajoling employers to allow their staffs to engage in “Instant Recess” on paid time, to serving as a role model for minority students and pounding the pavement in the community to connect on a personal level with the people she served.”, said Dr. Roshan Bastani, professor in the Fielding School of Public Health and co-director of the Center. “She really was a pioneer.”

Dr. Benjamin Chu, Group President for Kaiser Permanente Southern California and Kaiser Permanente Hawaii, noted the following about Dr. Yancey’s lasting influence: “Her accomplishments and the impact she made in the few years she was here were greater than many of us accomplish in a full lifetime.”

For most of her professional career, Yancey championed strategies to involve vulnerable populations in physical activity. As director of public health for the city of Richmond, Va., she created and conducted the “Rock! Richmond” campaign to get every able-bodied adult in the city engaged in more physical activity. As director of chronic disease prevention and health promotion for Los Angeles County, she inaugurated “L.A. Lift Off,” a 10-minute exercise break designed to involve mostly overweight, sedentary workers in low-impact dance moves at work. The success of this endeavor evolved into “Instant Recess.”

Yancey’s commitment to working in the community garnered her numerous awards, including a Lifetime Achievement Award from the President’s Council on Fitness, Sports and Nutrition; a Champions of Health Professions Diversity Award from The California Wellness Foundation; a Lifetime Achievement Award from the Association of Black Women Physicians; an Award for Excellence from the American Public Health Association; the California State Assembly 47th District’s Woman of the Year honor; a Health Education Achievement and Leadership Award from the Henry Ford Health System; a WNBA Los Angeles Sparks Lisa Leslie Inspiring Women Award; a Joint Health Promotion Award from the California Public Health Association; and a Women Who Dared Award from the California Black Women’s Health Project, among others. In 2000, she was honored as one of the top 50 scholarship recipients in the 50-year history of the National Medical Fellowships.

Born Nov. 1, 1957, in Kansas City, Kan., Yancey completed her undergraduate studies in biochemistry and molecular biology at Northwestern University and earned a medical degree at Duke University. She completed her residency in preventive medicine at UCLA, where she also earned a master’s of public health degree. Yancey went on to serve five years in public health practice, first as director of public health for Richmond, Va., then as Los Angeles County’s director of chronic disease prevention and health promotion. She then returned to academia full time, where she continued her work in teaching and research until the end of her life.

Yancey was a true renaissance woman. In addition to being a physician and professor at UCLA, she was a poet and author, a former fashion model and, at 6’2″, a Division 1 basketball player during her undergraduate years at Northwestern. She brought a self-deprecating sense of humor to her life story, telling UCLA Magazine in 2006 that the nicest compliment she ever received was that she could “talk a hungry dog off a meat wagon.”

Yancey always lamented that she was never able to dunk a basketball. In the same interview with UCLA Magazine, she also expressed how happy she was at UCLA, saying that “being a professor at UCLA allows me to do most everything I love.”

Yancey is survived by her partner of 11 years, Darlene Edgley, their daughter Kanitra and son-in-law Oscar, and her granddaughter Anais, all of Los Angeles, and by her brother, sister-in-law and niece, who live in Texas.

In lieu of flowers, her family requests that contributions be sent to the Yancey Edgley Scholarship Fund. Checks can be mailed to Santa Monica College, Black Collegians, 1900 Pico Blvd., Santa Monica, Calif. 90405.

Prevention Institute, along with many of our partners, will honor Toni’s memory by doing exactly what Toni would have wanted us to do – GET UP AND MOVE! We invite our friends and partners: Gather your co-workers on Tuesday, May 7 at 1 pm PDT (4 pm EDT) for a 10-minute instant recess. It’s easy –click here and Toni and the Los Angeles Sparks will lead you and your colleagues through a brief activity break. Don’t forget to take a picture or quick video and share it with us on Facebook or Twitter! We’ll retweet and share so everyone can see #InstantRecess celebrated across the country.

For more information about this Nationwide tribute to Dr. Yancey, please visit the Prevention Institute’s website here.

I hope all remains well with you…peace 

Earlier, I told you that I’d be sharing some ‘bits and pieces,’ and although I have very little time right now (headed to a meeting shortly), I feel as if the most important ‘bit and piece’ has to be about the emotional effects of Hurricane Sandy, that were shared with me by those who lived thru it….and, are continuing to do so.
 
News producers and other media types have shared a whole slew of images.  
My own family members did so as well, via photos after the fact.
 
I know that I will never, ever, begin to comprehend what each person FELT, as I was not actually there.

I do know, tho’, that there were several aspects of ‘feeling’ things that are still on-going, and were shared by me, and shared to me.
 
 Six months after the hurricane, people’s lives continue to be told in ‘slow motion’ disaster.
I heard of the ‘’thirty foot wall of water’’ that came up the block from the ocean, in one area of my own ‘Jersey Shore’ land.

Even as the person sharing that story told that to me, multiple times, at that, he seemed to be in an on-going daze at the reality of it all.
I know this person very, very well.
Little fazes him at all anymore.
He has lived thru the horrors of a war…..and, has lived thru the horrors of P.T.S.D.
And, although, a war’s horrors are one thing distinct, also distinct, and horror-filled, were his most-visual sharings.
 
I heard, from family members, of ‘’mountains’’ —-‘’probably 30 feet high’’…..that were made up of people’s lives and people’s memories: ranging from photo albums…..totally ruined and destroyed….to people’s actual physical belongings……that were eventually all taken away ‘somewhere.’

 
I heard of otherwise-rational, responsible, adults walking around in total dazes for long times after the initial storm onslaught……meeting up with others in similar states……and feeling as if ‘’everything we ever knew…..everything that helped us to know where we were, and what our lives have been about: all gone, with no remains, in many cases.”    Just wandering from site to site, from corner to corner, hoping to find something that would help them know that their world was still ‘there.’   Oftentimes, to no avail.
 
I had to laugh and laugh along with them, though, when they told me of the multiple sea turtles that were found swimming in one of the local high schools…..and, would , now, probably, become ‘’mascots.’’  (or, soup???!!  )
 
As I was taken to the ‘’six months later’’ reality of it all, there was a sense of the re-building of community:   Despite the physical barriers keeping folks from certain beaches, or main ocean streets….There was also the sense of memories, memories, memories, of my own ‘Jersey Shore’ upbringing now gone…… 
 
 And, as with others, I, too, went past the physical barriers at some places, and ‘’dared’’ to ‘walk the walk’ of OUR ocean even in some of those spots that were still decimated….
I, too, sat with them, and listened and listened to their stories of sadness, but, of great, great HOPE , as well.    

Some people will never be able to financially re-build their own family’s homes…..and, some folks will have to continue paying off mortgages on homes that went ‘with the storm,’….but, with it all, stories were shared of people….of total strangers……who came there, and volunteered their resources and their energies, to bring a sense of ‘Life’ yet again to many.
One of my folks told me, over and over, and over:  ‘’HOW GOOD that people are!!!!”   and, she was referring to total strangers at that point.

 
I came away from my time at my ‘Jersey Shore home,’ with a sense of great sadness, but, more importantly, with the theme of ‘’HOPE’’ sounding in my ears and eyes and spirit, from listening to, and observing, the lived-out belief in Hope that folks modeled for me during my short time at home.
 
And, yes, as I spent much, much of that brief time there, on the beach—-that was ‘closed’——I was reminded by the sea, that God continues gracing our lives with never-ending waves of LIFE amidst all that might be seen as otherwise……

 
The Greatest is Love….

To get involved in Hurricane Sandy Recovery check out the following site for All-Hands volunteers.
 

The following are two of my favorite poems. I love them because out of all of my writing I believe they both encapsulate the experience of living!

After the poems, please check out the small blurbs and links to three causes that I feel strongly about. The first cause is the fight against Cancer, and the link highlights my friend Janelle Wade’s ongoing battle with the disease. The second is a brand new post I wrote about volunteering. I am currently working with the volunteer organization, L.A. Works. The piece is brand new and highlights how easy and fun L.A. works has made volunteering in my new hometown. The last link is to an event going on this Saturday in San Francisco, put on by the Exploratorium. The event will highlight the past, present and future of Caine’s Arcade and the Imagination Foundation. If you are in the Bay Area and have children, go check it out. Above All, if you are reading this and sitting next to your loved one, turn to them and tell them how much you love them and give them a hug. We only have NOW. Live NOW.

If I Ever Grow Up

If I could be anything
I would be a bubble floating
from the o-shaped mouth
of a child.

Bouncing on air
full of life
a sphere of breath
going nowhere far
creating joy on my journey
the end of me
a silent pop
a child’s giggle.

Where Are You?

At any given time
poems lurk
take infinite forms—
stinger of a wasp
spirit of a dead ant
split-end hair in a lion’s mane.
The smog smothers
the ground.
Hell
Fire
below under me
under below me

flushed down
gutter waste.

The real poem
never
conceals itself
it just
floats
invisible
sandwiched between
nothing and nowhere

waiting for its turn to dance.

Family and friends, check out my friend Janelle’s story below and her message to all women. Please keep her and her family in your prayer’s and good thoughts as she continues on her daily battle against breast cancer. She has given me so much hope and inspiration over the last year and a half. If you can get out and run the Cure for Cancer or donate to help find the cure. Keep going, Janelle! Click here to watch the newscast about her journey.

Check out a brand new piece I wrote about volunteering with L.A. Works. If your in L.A. please share with your friends and family. Thanks for supporting us! Click here for the blog piece!

San Francisco: Meetup Next Weekend at The Exploratorium!

Caine’s Arcade will be closed next weekend because Caine, George, & Nirvan will be up in San Fran to speak at a LearnZillion event. We invite you all to meet up with us on Saturday at around 12pm at the Exploratorium’s new space on Pier 15. Nothing formal, we will just be there running around and playing. For more information, click here.

This piece was written in response to the magical book of poems by Pablo Neruda titled, “The Book of Questions.” You can find some excerpts here. Please share your own.

The Book of Questions
¿El Libro de las Preguntas?

Will hypocrites fill the pews
of churches in heaven?

Do tears gather in a ocean that beats
relentlessly on the shore of sadness?

What can love do for us
contained to four letters?

If it was less than four letters
would it be any easier to say?

How old is memory
if it was just thought up?

Does the sadness of the world
depend on where you stand?

If you stand on your head
will gravity spare you from sorrow?

How many steps
are considered a lifetime?

Can walking backwards relieve wrinkles
make it harder to see the future?

Is it because of sand grains or money
that we need infinite numbers?

Is it dreams that make
living seem impossible?

Do we sleep standing up
and wake on our backs?

If noise didn’t exist
would silence be unbearable?

Could I fill a book tonight
with the things I want to say to you?

Would the words be a best-seller or
an ocean to drown millions?

Why does the moon have to be round
just because the earth is?

Why can’t the sun and stars
be shapes we can’t explain?

Do painters think they control
or does the paint only know where to stop?

If we didn’t disagree
could we ever hold conversations?

How far away is the end of the universe?
Could it be right behind us?

Do we breathe the same air
as our dead ancestors?

Does it dance around in our lungs
and fill our brains with the same temptations?

Is gravity the burden of heaven
on mankind’s shoulders?

Could he jump and touch the moon
if he gave up all faith?

Do the creaking floorboards remember
bending in the wind as trees?

How bright is the light from a dead star
when it finally reaches the earth?

Will it be the first ray that cuts
through the fog of the morning?

Will its arrival make
the newspaper headlines?

Is there anything more
ridiculous than a kiss?

When a kiss is planted
does a garden of lips grow?

Do their flowers bloom truth
Or speak softly in the night?

Do raindrops know their purpose
in the herd of the ocean?

Are they headed for slaughter
Or to kiss a lovers bare toes on the beach?

Who was the first person
to find faith in the bible?

How many other books
did they believe in?

Is dust so lonely
that it has to cling to everything?

Does the heart manufacture sadness in the eye
waiting for the right moment to leak out?

If Kafka could turn a man into a bug
why did we not call him god?

If poems were the secret between women’s legs
would this be a different world?

Would men ever go hungry
or see the light of day?

In the school where geese learn
does their alphabet end with the V?

Are they only taught north and south
and not east or west?

Did Darwin discover evolution
and realize it was all an idea?

Why would a fish want to leave the ocean
grow legs, climb a tree, and become a bird?

Is the music of the violin
the sound of all sadness?

What if you were a smile
that only lasted a moment?

In what prison will we serve time
for the murder of ants?

Will their families ask for justice
does their species know forgiveness?

Who will be the judge
over this mini murder trial?

Inside the world of a water drop
how are officials elected?

Can the government be trusted?
Is there ever a balanced budget?

Do fruits know their names
in every language?

How loud is the roar
Of an Ant Lion?

At night does the sunflower
lust over the moon?

Does a bee see five times
more sadness than the cyclops?

Would the bee trade his stinger
for the earthworm’s five broken hearts?

Is anything in this life more difficult
than the wind hitting rocks?

Where does laughter go
once it breaks the sound barrier?

Does it crawl through a desert of ears
and land on the face of the moon?

Do scorpions get tired of
looking at the sky?

With the belly of what bird
do they fall in love with?

How do mirrors really
feel about humans?

Are they tired of being called names
is self-image a problem in their world?

How instant is the
death of a swatted fly?

Can you imagine what an elephant
thinks about being pregnant?

What if time is
divided unevenly?

Do all the grains of sand get along
do they even have time to bond?

If sharks never stop swimming
Do they ever sleep
If they never sleep
Do they ever dream
Is dreaming worth dying for.

Are hummingbirds jealous
of how high hawks soar?
Is that why they show off their wings?

If you see your reflection in the downpour of a raindrop
Does it shatter on dry ground or reincarnate you on the mirror of a puddle?

In the unknown deserts of Jupiter
How do wasps find their way to water?

If we were immortal would our hair
turn a color beyond gray?

Did the dust of Hitler’s corpse
give birth to a bed of roses

Was it blown for many miles
to become part of a Sahara Sand dune?

Do the surgeon’s hands exist
When he starts a sinner’s heart again?

Does sleep really come
if you dream every night?

What does the child in Africa
think when he dreams of me?

Am I an alien from another universe
Or the hand that guides him home?

Will these questions be answered
in the time of your great great great grandchildren?

The following is a “Found” poem constructed of lines taken directly from the following two books by John Steinbeck:East of Eden text and Journal of a Novel.

The Oldest Story in the World-The life of a Writer

We come now to the book
I planned it when I didn’t know what it was about
in a sense it will be two books
my country, and me
I shall speak directly to other people
I will tell them the greatest story of all
how doubles are inseparable
a good writer always works at the impossible
I have love and pain
but I find no bitterness in myself
I think perhaps it is the only book I have ever written
a kind of necessary selfishness
I have been drinking too much
I have always worked and prayed to be able to write
it’s exactly that simple
I do not have the name yet, I think it might be Canable
I remember my father’s friend,
Captain Trask
I have always loved that name
It meant great romance to me
This book has to have a universal quality
or there is no point in writing it
but, I want to write this one as though it is my last book
there is nothing beyond this book
nothing follows it
a strange and mysterious business—writing
almost no progress has taken place since it was invented
and one thing we have lost
the courage to make new words or combinations
I hope something beautiful and true comes out
for this reason it is not well to attempt to analyze too closely at first
my mind blasted just then
with an idea so comely, like a girl
mine is the mind I know about
now I must go to the Salinas Valley
I am glad to go there on paper rather than in person
it is Friday and I have sweated out one page and a half
last night I read Elaine the opening
and she liked it
I love Elaine unbelievably, incredibly
Today I go over the background, appearance and history
of the valley
and tomorrow I must start the Hamiltons
This is my most complicated and my most simple sounding book

I must hold description to an absolute minimum
I must introduce Samuel Hamilton and his wife
to the Salinas Valley
And now Elaine and I are going to Macy’s
These Trasks how they fascinate me
The innocent sound and slight concealment
are not done as tricks
but simply so that a man can take from this book.
I think it can properly be called not a novel but an history
I had thought to set Carl Trask and his wife in perhaps three paragraphs
I had thought to get the early story of Adam down
in one chapter
but I can’t.
I will get him into the army and leave him
go back to the Hamiltons
When Adam comes back from the army
he will be a formed man
and will be the thing I have written the whole book for.
Everything in this book turns out to be bigger
than I had anticipated.
I suppose one remembers what he wants to remember
for his own safety.
Yesterday I wrote the symbolic killing of
brother by brother.
A chapter should be a perfect cell in a whole book
and be able to stand alone.
I wonder if the Cain and Abel story will be understood by other readers.
This book is going to catch the same kind of hell
as the others did
for the same reasons.
It will not be what anyone expects
so expecters will not like it
as always, people in a book change
thus I am forced to change the name of Carl Trask
and for reasons I don’t want to tell right now.
A symbol is usually a kind of part of an equation
the symbol is never the whole book.
Isn’t that odd?
I now regard the book as the inside
and the world as the outside.
The letter written by Charles to Adam is a very tricky one
I guess I am what is called a worrier
I don’t think lovers of Hemingway will love this book
Young people tend to like only one kind of book
I myself have been guilty of this
Today I have to rework the last scene of Zapata
Still on the Hamiltons and will be
for several days
but I should get to the third chapter
The Hamiltons sections are much more difficult
than the Trasks sections.
Now I do from five to seven pages a day
and there are few days I have missed.
It is going to be much more carefully rewritten
than anything I’ve ever done.
This is my big book.
Chapter 4 go back to Connecticut and the Trasks
Adam’s father dies and has left $10,000 a piece
to the brothers
Charles is married to Amy
I hope the incident of the scarred forehead
doesn’t throw you.
I buy pencils 4 dozen at a time.
I have lost the sense of rush
with which I started this
and that is exactly what I intended to do.
I really would like to see what will happen
if these two young men are confronted
with the reversal of everything they believed.
I am fascinated with Adam’s reaction to death
and effection of his father.
I think it is most profound.
Love can only weaken faith.
The relationship between the brothers has now been
finally established.
This is the time I am glad I am or try
to be a writer.
This is a woman
a tremendously powerful force
and her name is Catherine or Cathy.
Cathy is a hustler
and by nature, a whore
Why Adam Trask should have fallen in love with her
is anybody’s guess
Love as opposed to faith.
I believe there are monsters born in the world
to human parents
To a monster, the norm is monstrous.
Cathy Ames is a monster
don’t think they do not exist
I have Cathy Ames to present.
Cathy had a curious kind of skin
Cathy has a great power over people
I almost hesitate to put her down
but you have to believe her.
Title: Salinas Valley.
Kazan has found that he cannot make the picture in Mexico
It would be odd if I became known for my designs
more than my writing
wouldn’t it?
Cathy is going to worry a lot of children
and a lot parents about their children
It is a very strange half life I have had
I haven’t the brains of a mud turtle.
I need four dozen more pencils
This is a horrible section of the book
but one that is necessary.
I wish I could get back to Adam
and to take Cathy to him
but this has to go its own way
and take its own time.
Back to Cathy
I hope to get her to the point of meeting Adam
either today or tomorrow.
Today she comes in contact
with Adam and his brother
I didn’t get Cathy in
This is a different kind of book
Do not dislike it for its difference
I am not writing for money
anymore now than I ever did.
I do not want to discuss the book anymore
You will wonder why Cathy married Adam.
Today Adam-Charles, Adam-Cathy, Cathy-Charles, Adam-Charles
and it will end on that

The year is 1892
The one person you are not going to understand in this book
is Cathy
Cathy sometimes tells the truth
The Trask story was a rather dreadful one.
My wish is that when my reader has finished with the book
he will have a sense of belonging in it
he will actually be a native of that valley
Today I introduce the Hamiltons to Adam Trask.
All of the Hamilton stories are true.
Samuel Hamilton has flare
I remember the lilt in his speech
I see him surrounded by all manner of birds and beasts
and qualities of light
I think I will sketch my mother with her airplane ride
which I think is very funny.
If a man could see his whole life
he would never live it
he would kill himself instantly.
I think better what I am doing than most writers
but it still isn’t much.
I had better put down a section
on the place names of the Valley
because sometimes they seem contrived.
The human mind particularly in the present
is trouble and fogged with a thousand little details.
I feel it is important to go into the school system
and also into the whorehouse situation.
It is a strange feeling to be taking people
who are close to me apart
and putting them on paper.
But they are mine
and I can do what I like with them.
I guess it is a good thing I became a writer
perhaps I am too lazy for anything else.
This will be another very long chapter
The birth of the twins, their meaning,
and the departure of Cathy.
The cosmic ulcer comes not from great concerns
but from little irritations.
A man is destroyed by the duck nibblings of life.
I resurfaced my writing desk.

Today I want to go into Cathy
and Lee the Chinese.
Remarkable people the California Chinese.
Now you are going to like Lee.
Lee’s attitude will, if anything, be clearer than mine.
I am going to set Adam’s plans for his life.
Plans are real things
and not experience
Men don’t listen to what they don’t want to hear.
.
It is said that many writers talk their books out
and so do not write them.
I must go to the Hamilton place now
to balance one family against the other.
The callous on my writing finger is very sore today.

I’m going to jump a few years
about ten years.
That will make our first knowledge of our twins at ten
and the story will start all over again
just as it did before.
How about we call the book “My Valley”
I am filled with the excitement of the twins’ birth
as though it were a real birth
My will toward death was very great when I was growing up.
But I learned long ago
that you cannot tell how you will end up
by how you start.

I have very little personal ego
Domination, possessiveness, desire, competitiveness
I have none of this whatever
I am a monster like Cathy.
The book dies a real death for me
when I write the last word.
I have a whole free day
and many sharpened pencils.
Yesterday I felt weak and frightened at the thought of part two.
The story in Genesis of Cain and Abel,
the tree of life, original sin
out of Eve’s sin came love and death
Cain invented murder
so I suggest as a title for my book Cain’s Sign.
Now I have sketched in the background history of the valley
in the 1900s
Naming the twins
Cate is going to do an ingenious thing
It’s such a delicate little scene
it’s a pretty hellish scene
Discipline goddammit discipline.
What a complicated animal a human is.
I am limited here by not being able to go into Cate’s mind.
Why did she start the process?
I think that this sequence might be the most effective piece of horror
in any language.
I will complete Cate this week.

The next sequence will be even more terrible.
Cate is so frightening.
Cate’s horror is her lack of human reaction.
What does she want?
The reader will hate Cate because while she is a monster
she is a little piece of the monster in all of us.
Tomorrow comes the theological discussion
and the shocking of Adam.
We can do strange and wonderful things
when we want to.
My mind is like a goddamned animal
I know I’ll pick up confidence
but I don’t have much now.
My brain acts like a bad child.
Time creeps on me too in a nightmarish way
I do not remember ever having been relaxed
in my whole life.
I think I got this through my father.
He was rather strong than profound.
Cleverness only confused him.
But he who supported and backed me.
I’m glad I can use the oldest story in the world
to be the design of the newest story for me.
I think I have a title at last
East of Eden.
In other words, this one story is the basis of all human neuroses
and if you take the fall along with it
you have the total of the psychic troubles that can happen
to a human.
Restless night full of thoughts.
I think I found the key to the story.
the only one that has ever satisfied me

The next chapter will be the life of Tom Hamilton.
He is a strange man
shy and silent and good
very good and confused.
He never knew what was wrong with him
he bares out the thesis of guilt
so that he must sacrifice himself

And with me too East of Eden grows as the final title.
Prophecy -thou shalt rule over it
An order -do thou rule over it?
Free will -thou mayest rule over it.
Abel brought of the firstlings of the flock
Does this mean the firstlings were fat?
Does it mean that both firstlings and mature animals were brought?
or does fat simply refer to goodness
like the fat of the land
What does firstling mean?
This is the last time you will see Samuel Hamilton
except on his death.
And I am not sure you will see him then.
Do thou
Thou shalt
Thou mayest.
I am deeply immersed in it.
We may get a phone next week.
On Monday, Samuel will visit Adam Trask
and the twins and Lee and that will be the last of him.

Monday
This may be a bad week for the book.
I want Samuel to become a kind of a huge figure of folklore
It is getting to be a thick book.
It is not four months since I have been on this book.
Eliza was no lay figure in the family
but a pillar of great strength
Adam Trask is faded
Now it is my opinion that many people thwarted
build their desired lives behind their eyes
and live in it
I think that Adam never gave Cathy up.
I think he is living with the Cathy he invented.
I hope the book will sound a little formless at first
until it settles into the mind.
I know it is the best book I have ever done.
I have never done anything
without having a problem.
There is no physical movement in memory.

After the death of Samuel
the whole tone and tempo of the story is going to change.
I do not think the Cain and Abel story
has ever been subjected to such scrutiny.
I wanted Lee’s statement of faith
to be simple, beautiful
so there was no doubt it was truth.
I want Samuel to go out with wonder and interest.
I do not believe all men are destroyed.
My book is about everything.
I have never been more excited about a chapter
in my life
than I am about this one.
I seem to have been writing on this book forever.
I have been writing on this book
all of my life.
I want this book to be good
because it is the first book.
I am going through pencils at a great rate.
The book is either going to have a great impact
or none at all.

Now back to E
I feel just worthless today
really childish
I dread the next scene
dread it like hell
Words are strange elusive things
The academics have tried
and only succeeded in killing the words
Monday July 9th
This is a milestone day
the start of a new part of the book
I want the reader to be so involved
that it will be his story
the nation and the valley are changing their direction
There has not been a book like this
that I know of
Men do change, do learn, do grow.
Nothing is held back here
this is what I have practiced for.
I am not the book.
It is much more than I am.

Caleb is my Cain principal
and since every man has Cain in him
he will fully well be understood.
Timshel
Thou canst
Thou mayest
.
Now to Eden, or at least a little east.
I think I am making people of these children
and this I must do
I have no consistencies
I am really very immature in many ways.
And now things are about to happen.
Adam and his family must move down river
toward the mouth
they will stop in Salinas for this generation
Aron will develop to a certain extent
but the powerful new people are
Cal and Abra and a new Adam.
My mind is wandery this morning.
I don’t want this book to have an overtone of sorrow
any more than it exists in the world itself.
All hell is going to break loose.
The development of Aron’s character
Abra is terribly important also.
God almighty this is a complicated book.

I am afraid.
This is the time in a book when worry sets in.
There is a real feeling of finality in the air here.
I have always loved the fall.
Labor Day today.
Writing is a very silly business at best.
Maybe it is a terrible book.

There’s so much to come.
So very much
The scene for today I think will make your flesh crawl
a little
My sense of time has been lifted.
In this book I am a bystander
and I know it.

I’ll never get quite used to being alive
it’s a mystery.
It is hard to balance what we call the honest and decent
against the dishonest and indecent
because they are very much alike
except in their ends.
There will always be the difficulty that the average reader
is more interested in evil
than good.
I am reluctant to finish.
I am coming into the most violently emotional scene
I have ever attempted.
And I am frankly afraid of it.
I wish I could do this well.
Little by little
I love it sometimes
and sometimes I hate it
So hard to do the longer I put it off
In a short time this book will be done
and it will not be mine any more
Other people will take it over
and own it
and it will drift away from me
as though I had never been a part of it.
There’s a sadness all over everything.
Today is one of those hazards we avoid
as long as possible.
It is finally a shock to finish the scene
between Cal and Aron.
I should like to finish with Cate today if I can.
Cathy died.
This is a book unlike any other
It has greater freedom than most
and much more discipline than most
So we go into the last week
and I may say I am very much frightened
All of these months and years aimed in one direction
and suddenly, it is over.
And it seems the thunder has produced a mouse.
After all, it is only a book
No worlds are made or destroyed by it.

Trailer house Hamlet (Created 10-2-06)

To be
or not to be
that is the question.

To shit
or get off the pot
that is the answer.

Six people in a
one-bedroom
trailer house.

To find a human skull
in your back yard
and soliloquy the cows
with a big
“what the fuck,”
that is the problem.

To know Shakespeare
as two separate words—
is to know indecision
suicide
and thoughts of
incest.

All of this thought
while standing
underneath
a clear blue sky
in Wheatland Wyoming.

When You’re a child, You don’t Realize you’re a child! (Created 3-10-08)

A scarecrow
trying to protect
the Wyoming plains
from teaching me
about myself.

I never taught you
to move forward
stumble
out of the nest—
learn the same trade,
I practice.

“Its all right,
you will always be the one
who knows everything!”

“I know nothing!”

I roll on the floor
shield off
kicks to the stomach—
the head,
don’t feel a thing.

I am enamored with him
I laugh
roll
let him think
he is teaching me a lesson.

The lesson I’m teaching him—
he has already flunked—
at recess he takes out his anger
on the kid that scored perfect.

Blaming him for everything—
from breaking up his family
to—
really nothing.

As I repeatedly kick the kid in the stomach—
he laughs,
or at least I think he is.

Me and him
frolicking
in the noonday sun.

The Doctor and the Daydreamer (Created 7-23-08)

His thoughts—
clouds of question marks
she
diagnosed everything
tested
dispensed
emotion without a prescription.

He believed in impossible
possibilities
snow falling upwards
turning the word poem
inside out
folding the letter n
in half
hanging an open sign
on his mind.

She trusted
science
her head
hands—
sometimes god
when everything else failed.

The dreamer
spared his knees
from the expectation
of faith
kneeled
at her feet.

She gave her miracles
to patients
until none were left
to cure her own pain
sensitive as a poet’s pen
he could not convince her
everyone can’t be saved.

His concept of beauty
her skin and bones
elbow wrinkles
waist curves
the eclipse
behind her knees
the space
between her toes.

His theory of eternity—
the few days spent—
before the world
went silent.
Cliché
he thought
too calculated
for him
but,
he didn’t care.

He had nothing to hide
he wore his organs on his sleeves—
pant legs
one in his back pocket
would accidentally sit on it.

She stitched secrets
and regrets
inside a patient’s open heart
took
livers and lungs
stained
with tears
of the dead
gave someone life.
.

What you are Saying Falls on Coin-Stained Ears Full of Pocket Lint

She speaks.
I see her mouth
move—
Oh, beautiful mouth.

In my pocket
I hide my ears—
they fill with coin dust
lint
dead fingertip skin
things unnecessary for living
that only appear
when you’re not looking for them.

A pocket never turned inside out
contains a world
of everything we’ve lost
but,
when we look—
it all disappears
exposure to air
memories, keys, time
compacted into
grey smears on
fingertips
purple fuzz balls
stuck under fingernails.
.
Man has a silly way
of searching for lost items.
Most of the time
loss
is temporary.
The truly lost
are gone—
give up,
they will never be found.

We say,
“Is the thing you’ve misplaced
not in the place where you left it? ”

If that were the case—
we would always
be walking backwards
away from sound
never finding anything new.

The Inevitability of Ice Cream Melting

A baby will die tomorrow.

A plague of invisibles
will mend the work
of a swarm of locusts
network of microscopic bite marks
thrown up
a wallpaper
revelation—
destruction
construction workers
rebuild
the mystery
lost in the dead of night.

Man in the moon quesadillas
lunar tortillas—
mask
ashy crater faces
cheesy smiles.

Funeral for the earth
at midnight—
rocket for Mars
departs
at half past the hour.

When a child
bites off
the end of a cone
a rush fills the mouth
and,
ends the suffering of the world—
brain freeze
for humanity.

A brief reprieve
from what we’re used to.

How Beautiful We Can Sometimes Be

If the lighting is right—
there is something about you
I can not describe.
The way it shadows—
is probably just my imagination.

There are sensations
that run rivers
beneath the skin.
Oceans of imaginary space
where I tread
just to stay afloat—
come up for air
far from the shore
of anything reasonable—
it’s easier just to wave my arms—
try to get your attention
before I sink to the
bottom
become oil
or sunken treasure—
gifts that will give temporary
pleasure.

Send out the lifeboats—
the lighthouse
is too far away.

Look up.

The stars appear closer
tonight
than they ever did before.

We can not control shadows
or the perceptions they create.

Hope Where is Your Hand Now? (In Memory 8-29-05) (Created May, 2012)

Crescent streets
river
runs
to the gulf—
won’t
understand
‘less you’re
from here
bourbon
veins
canals
stumble
fall
break
levees
heavy
heart
bended
knees
please
can you
hear me?

Attic
crawl
space
refrigerated
night
floating
to the shore
salvation—
baby’s
heartbeat
screams
good
bye—
why
can’t I
just die
its’ complicated
ain’t never
give up
someone
find
me.

Rebuild
my home
I can start
a new life
rain
scares me
rivulets
race
down
windows
wind whips
pain
in my heart
forever.

Epiphany
beginning to
comprehend
Home is where
your house
stood
for centuries.

Just go
No!
Can’t Stop me—
stay
might see you
tomorrow
when waters
recedes
might not.

Debris
fear
scattered
everywhere
one man’s trash
another’s
disaster
manmade—
natural.

Wake me
I’ve
fallen
asleep
against a wall
in the Quarter
don’t laugh
or judge me
by
my drunks
so much soul
blues
inside
but
you’ll see
I’ll be back.

We are most of us broken in our own ways (Created 3-16-2013)

The height
of my bright ideas
stacked on top
of one another
might reach
a decision
or reaction
create an emotion
ocean
of empty thoughts
bobbing
apples
in an overgrown
garden.
Just because I’m
Mexican
doesn’t mean
I can bend over
for days
labor
or
anything else
but hamster
wheel commutes
rat
cubicles
pellet
guns
driven to distraction
the event of a
whisper hitting the backside
of my lips
creates such a loud applause
it wakes me out of a dream
under a cover
of detectives
who are everywhere
watching
the clock.
I am here now
for reasons
beyond even
my own god’s
understanding
his intention
not so much violent
but way worse—
an act of love
I was made in his image
all except for the parts
that aren’t perfect,
which are pretty much
everything
and nothing.
I exist
I am still not sure
he does,
but since
I don’t believe
most of what I think
I ‘m not even sure
I wrote the previous sentences
therefore I cannot be trusted
or called a poet.
Now I will float away
you can stand
there
watch me disappear
Into the pillow of the night
Under the blanket of black
the fish that crawled
out of the ocean
grew wings
of wax
flew too close
to the planet
formerly known as
Pluto.
I too oozed,
but
out of a bottle
and as sew my
wings into the
heathen rips of
my broken back
I hope
to not run out of
Thread.

A Cubist Dream of You in Dali-Vision (Created 9/21/2006)

I found your right leg
in a tree-angle.
Your toes
whistling sparrows
flipping me the bird.

Your dirty hands
were buried
in the mud.
I pulled them out
the suction
made awful thunder
washed them in the rain
lightning manicure.

In an antique store
I found your eyes
in a jar of marbles
sealed tight
holes punched in the top.
They looked alive.

I stood in front of a mirror.
Your eyeless reflection
stared back at me
Once/squared/times three/three times/infinity.

I found your heart
inside a circular box
deep
in a volcano
pounding out
thick thumps
of wet sound.

A picture
of a picture
in a picture.

Your head was found somewhere
in the background
leaning
on a nose
where your ear was supposed to be
sniffing out trouble
Van Gogh/whores/ears/you
Abstract too clichéd a word
to describe your fragments

Your legs were an odd sight.
One foreshortened
the other stretch—d
across a creek
water polishing your knee.

Watch out for elephants—
On stilts
Pistol bees
Meteorite pomegranates
Flying tigers
The shadow of your reflection’s reflection.

I found every piece of you that night—

Jumbled jigsaw puzzle
of redundant angles
and perspectives.

Crazy circles.

Infinite amounts of
Clocks
drip
drip
drip
to the end of time.

A stroke of luck
bordered by insanity
that brushed my eyes
made sense of your body.

A faded masterpiece
hung
in the gallery of my sleep.

The Cheesiest Fucking Love Poem Ever (Created 6/23/07)

I can’t believe you want me to invent
new ways to say “I love you”
so it means something
to you.

you have all my best lines
I’m speechless,
writeless.

I write—
words look simple
strange even
tangled heaps
of evolving
noise.

All the letters
stand straight
never a moment
to rest.

The air that fills
blank spaces
is unbreathable—

that is where
love lives
in between
a deep breath
and
choking to
death.

Warn Your Daughters About the Poets. (Created 4/7/07)

I read a poem on a leaf—
a haiku

if you look closer
things only get more blurry
if you look deeper—

they become a poem.

Today,

many poets use words like
these in poems:
love
hate
blood
kill.

There are poets
with the audacity
to use words
we will never understand.

Dictionary words—
synonyms
to things
that I never knew existed.

Adjectives
that make nouns
sifting
quicksand
realizations
that turn
fingernails
into the deceased
as they are chewed off
fall
invisible
explode into
a pile
of air
dead hair
and cells

too many
of the same words are used
in poetry,
but—
too often it’s just too many words.