The State of Poverty

Poverty is not only an economical state of existence. One can also be intellectually poor, culturally poor, emotionally poor. In these cases, what they all have in common is the sense of being "disconnected" ...not from something better, or something richer, or something newer....but from something different. ----Texas Poet of the Night

The Leaves of Fall

I recently re-discovered my blog. After spending almost an hour trying to gain access to my account, I figured that I might as well create a new post. Either that or go to sleep before midnight and avoid getting very drowsy around 2 p.m. tomorrow. But alas, the universe continues to expand, the earth keeps spinning, and each second of my life is ticking away...so why waste it by sleeping.

My posting today is about....time. I saw that my first post was back in January of 2010. So much has happened since then--personal as well as professional changes have taken place. And as I left the subway station today and drove home, I had the windows open and enjoyed the cool air. As I was waiting at a red light, I noticed the trees nearby and saw how some leaves changed from their dark green to a bright yellow. And I thought to myself "ahh....it's fall again."

Usually I look forward to the fall with such excitement especially up here in the northeast; the explosion of colorful leaves, the crisp air, apple picking, and the beginning of the holiday season ( a far different experience than growing up in the hood in Houston). But something feels different this year.

But it's not a "bad" different ...it's not like what William Butler Yeats wrote in "The Wild Swans at Coole," or what John Keats wrote in "To Autumn."


Instead of lamenting on the passing of the season (and of time) as if it were an inevitable hopelessness to accept, the feeling I have is more of a reminder how precious it is to have each season, each day, each hour to spend. I admit, the fall is my favorite season, but what if I try to accept each season on its own merits? The fall brings great foliage and weather...and I'll accept it and appreciate it for that. Then the winter will eventually arrive and I will enjoy the snow, the hot cups of chocolate, and the stinging cold on my face. Then the spring and then the summer will come again and we will all take advantage of what they bring.

Maybe we can accept and appreciate the seasons for what they are instead of complaining about what they are not. If that's possible, then maybe we could learn to accept and appreciate each moment we have on this wonderful planet. So let's buy a pumpkin to carve, let's down a few Kit Kat bars, let's get dressed for Halloween. Let's spend the morning making pancakes with the kiddos, let's spend an afternoon watching college football, let's spend the evening with the ones we love. Let's act like adults when we have to, but let's act like kids when we don't....and maybe we can appreciate each day of each season. I guess this is why I like the following quote:

"You aren't just the age you are.
You are all the ages you have ever been."
-Kenneth Koch

I want to first welcome anyone who comes across my blog. Being on the tail-end of Generation X, I think I'm still considered a "young" person; however, I have allowed technology to get the best of me. Specifically, the concept of blogging. Sure, I have my BlackBerry and have had a Facebook account since my UConn days that I've kept up with, but blogging is still somewhat of a mystery. But with my job coming to an end later this year, many of the job postings that I have come across have "blogging" listed as a desired experience. And so here I am today . . . creating a blog account and making my first entry.

I titled this blog "Texas Poet of the Night" because it somewhat describes me. But the main reason I chose it is because it comes from one of my favorite books; "On the Road," written by Jack Kerouac. There's a moment when Sal and Dean are driving westward and drive through Houston in the middle of the night:

"In the empty Houston streets of four o'clock in the morning a motorcycle kid suddenly roared through, all bespangled and bedecked with glittering buttons, visor, slick black jacket, a Texas poet of the night, girl gripped on his back like a papoose, hair flying, onward-going, singing, "Houston, Austin, Fort Worth, Dallas--and sometimes Kansas City--and sometimes old Antone, ah-haaaaa!" (Kerouac, pg 159, Penguin Books, 1991)

I first read this book in my senior year of high school and it left a lasting impression. Though it may sound cheesy--I, that year, felt like I was the one riding the bike....that Kerouac was writing about me. "On the Road" was one of the main reasons I went to college in New York City . . . and it's simply one of those books that inspires me to write. Anyone who knows me knows that I love the northeast; D.C., NYC, New England....but no matter where we live (wife, kiddo, and me), I will always be the Texas Poet of the Night.

Although I just graduated with an M.A. in Literature and will now focus on getting published, this blog will be about more than just Literature and poems. It will be about life . . .which is what the literary arts are all about.