Hey there, Moon Pixie!

Wow! January is gone and half of February is almost over. I settled in my new home in Oceanside, CA at the end of January. It’s so pleasant here. Our family housing community is wonderful to us. It feels so nice to be able to enjoy movie nights, Ladies Potluck Bingo, and other housing events with our neighbors.

I finally am slowly working on reshaping my favorite passion, which is bringing community together. Moon Pixel “Open-Mic” is postponed for awhile.

I am planning on branching out Moon Pixel Collective into something spectacular this 2017 year. Visit the upcoming new site here.  It’ll give you insight on what is to come.

Elmast Kozloyan is running a new open-mic series now at Half Off Books, CA called Inside The Lantern. It is every first Friday of the month. Inside The Lantern is the replacement for Moon Pixel Open-Mic. I’m not sure when I’ll be back in Whittier, CA as a resident again. If it ever does become my residence in the future I wouldn’t mind coming back and hosting for you Pixies.

I started a GoFundMe Campaign to help me flourish the vision I have for Moon Pixel Collective. It might take a while! That’s okay. Regardless of the time it takes I am organizing everything to start community here. If you’d like to see the progress of my campaign, or donate whatever contribution you’d like just click on the link above, or below. I’d appreciate any motivation or financial support.

Seriously, e-mail me from time to time asking how my lesson planning is going, or what my thoughts, and hopes are with this project! I’d love to have someone I can check up with on my progress. Positive reinforcement is a wonderful thing!

I hope you are all doing well. I miss some of you very much. I am thankful that last weekend Sarah Thursday visited me. We had some lovely girl time together. It was great!

Have a blessed weekend.










Shadows vs. The Sun

Bird hates me. I am a poet.
He says, “I don’t speak
an ass lick of truth.”

“Settle down.” I tell him
and pass the flask
of cheap whiskey.

Bird starts to laugh
and takes a chug
of my liquor.

He believes I am hope-
less. He pitched an idea
for my chapbook.

He suggested I wrap
my poetry around
empty toilet paper rolls.

“It’s going to be given shit
anyways. So why not?” he said.
I stayed quiet after that.

Now, I try to reach the Sun.
Yet, I am still a prisoner,
and Bird died this morning.


Previously published in San Gabriel Poetry Quarterly

Latino Voices: Rio Hondo College

Latino Voices: Rio Hondo College Poetry Reading led By Mariano Zaro, 1 p.m. on October 6, 2015. Thank you to everyone who read. Everyone did fantastic. It was a pleasure and an honor to read alongside you all. I had so much fun. It’s nice to be an active member of the Creative Writing Club again at my college. Now we just need our creative writing club shirts!


Mariano Zaro opening by reading three of his poems in English then in Spanish from his book.
Daniel following Mariano Zaro. He did an excellent job!
Rebeca reading her poem.
Rebeca reading her poem. She was wonderful.
I enjoyed both of her poems.
I enjoyed both of her poems.
Emiliano orale.
Emiliano orale.
Oh hey, look it's me.
Oh hey, look it’s me.
Professor Theresa Freije closing out wonderfully. I loved her Butterflies poem. She is darling!
Professor Theresa Freije closing out wonderfully. I loved her Butterflies poem. She is darling!
Group picture!
Group picture!

Letters for Eternity

We write as to believe
that God himself will read
our words out loud
to his angel legions.
Command them to memorize
our sonnets, odes, and prose.

We hope that they will sing
our lines for eternity
on cotton kissed clouds,
glancing down upon us
ignoring our existence,
yet making our creations

So we move our hands like gypsies,
magicians, clowns,
with the sole purpose to entertain,
and hypnotize our crowd
with desire that by the end of the night
someone will give their soul
to poetry.

Previously Published in River’s Voice 14

Third Eye

Angels kicked from heaven
shake their wings
violently until they bleed
on bridges, streets, roof tops,

fits of rage that last
minutes, hours, days.
We confuse this as rain.

Who would have thought angel blood
would match our very own tears?

Previously Published in the River’s Voice Volume 14

Geek Nerves

I want to write more than this.

Lines in stanzas that look empty
when really they were written
with invisible ink.

I just can’t tell you the perfect way
about how you make me feel.
I could try even if you won’t understand
what I’m saying.

You make me feel like…
Ryu’s hadouken, Guile’s sonic boom,
and Cammy’s hooligan combination.
Is that good enough
for you to say

when I ask you out
on a date?

Previously published in River’s Voice Volume 15

Jack Daniel’s Gets Expensive When We Drink Too Much

Let’s pretend that you’re mine; mind body and soul.
That we don’t need the liquor in order to get a better feel for each other.
That I’m all you want and you won’t need another
because I’m your only lover.
Yeah let’s pretend you’re satisfied with my body.
With all these scars running down my back spilling off my spine like the sea.
That you sink all the way through my skin, my flesh, my blood, and my bones.
That you gave your whole heart to me without asking anything in return
because you believed in love.
Let’s pretend you believe in love but you don’t.
You’re not mine and we’ll always need the liquor to feel fine.

Previously Published with Bank Heavy-Press Pom Pom Pom Pom Pomeranian November 2011 issue