"Freelance Director between Los Angeles n Shanghai" santamonicaboy's Profile

theater of life

Walking into the theater,
onto darkness,
stepping into a scene.
that’s already playing.

didn’t pick my part,
don’t know the play,
but I’m in it somehow.

Light comes on,
halfway through,
hurts my eyes.
blind from the projector that comes from the back of the theater of life.
24 frames by 24 frames per second.
oh mom, Shakespeare was right.

Who cast us in this?
Who’s directing us to hate, to kill, to bleed, to cry?
Near the end of act 3 and in the beginning of another
who’s directing this madness?
Turn on all of the theater lights,
start the internal fire to find out
who is the puppet Master?
Who?...Is it us?!
Oh Mom, Shakespeare was right,
Shakespeare was right,
Shakespeare was right.

By Drago


where do I start? Where do I go from here?
the streets, a child smiles at me in the distance, I still have hope.

The cup is always half full. Don’t be a fool my brother, don’t be an emotional vampire sucking my last drop of humanities.

It’s hard enough to stand on my own two feet .

Overlooking the Pacific Ocean ,daydreaming of another place,
it feels like I will be traveling
be it physical or spiritual,
to a land I don’t recall.

God knows I love to fly.
Sometimes I cry within
to fill the cup to half full,
never half empty.

Where do I start? Where do I go from here?

By Drago


You are a friend of mine.
I won’t use the word lightly
what is a friend? Someone to fight for, to
care for.
Somewhat like a brother but from another mother.
to bleed for.
To understand what a sister may not.
you may be more than a real brother to me
true soul
a shining light
within a dark cave, cold as ice
air flowing through
cellblock up for parole, a lucky call
from a friend of mine
needs the key
leaving town
going back to the old world
take a boat
not the Titanic
won’t let that happen
not to a friend of mine.

By Drago



Sometimes it is impossible or should I say feels impossible to decide what is the right direction just making decisions on impulse. Like a sweaty palm highroller illustrating it up at a rundown Las Vegas casino, of the strip, next to the ghetto, where discrimination, bigotry breathes so well. Trying to get his Money back, that he just lost three minutes ago as panic comes crawling in, desperately praying to God that he rarely talks to … needs to get the cash back before it gets too dark . It’s a tough break man that's how the cookie crumbles …. I got to get my money back, I just got to! Why don't they have clocks in these casinos?, I just got to! Deal the cards, just give me the good ones, this time …Am I making the right decision? Of course it is, … yes? no?

This is how I feel. Racing against the invisible clock or unknown opponent such strange like deja vu affect, I sat here before …. What is the dealer showing?

But I need to realize that there is no dealer and no time limit, no Vegas odds just the right decision or not so right decision. Never rush anything, just inhale through your nose and exhale through your mouth, take your time and enjoy the decision making and freedom to choose your paths what more can we asked for? Do I go north-south or East but stop, they do say go west young man , but I made a decision to go East , did I swallow the hype? Of course it is …yes? no?

The dealer reaches over to ask me if I want another drink from the black cocktail waitress, as the day light breaks through and catches my eye from the cracks on the wall above her ,yes obviously , the drinks are free what more can we asked for?

By Drago

Poetry born with free flow emotions

where I am standing, I hear impacts against the wall , glass crumbling into a clear running stream, becoming a crystal clean vision for all to see and enjoy.

where I am laying, I hear impacts against the wall , falling cement, pounds the sweet organic ground as civilization chips away towards the concrete village .

where I am standing, I hear impacts against the wall , poisonous paint gets on your clothes, making it hard to remove, valley starts to flood the dam breaks, becoming wet and slippery.

Where I am laying, I hear impacts against the wall, focusing to go just beyond, slicing through without stopping halfway, executing full devotion .

where I am sitting, I just meditate

By Drago

Someone once asked me..............

Someone once asked me..............
Go ahead and ask me, when is the right time to love a woman?
I replied as simply as I can

Whenever my sweetheart is near me … Not only physically…Even if she is standing far away across on the other side of a running clear sparkling river, filled with Pirates that I have invented to rob our happiness .. she dives into the cold water transforming herself into a mermaid with wings and then suddenly appearing in front of me completely expose for the world to see and admire, I quickly cover her up with my giant spiritual blanket … she is floating as a beautiful angel with wings of desire on a cloudy mountaintop, time lapsing through my waking dreams , trying to catch my breath in this high altitude as she breathes air into my lungs giving me new life to climb even higher … she is tucked under a thick fur blanket deep in a cold dark cave waiting for my arrival so I can keep her warm and safe as thunder and lightning strike, together we close our eyes imaginary warplanes aiming heat seeking missiles softly pounding our hillside … she will plays with me freely on the open green Valley which is surrounded by a concrete jungle, skyscrapers collapsing one after another, we run as children laughing and dancing as the earth starts to shake , black rain starts to pours down, we hold our hands tightly and seeking shelter knowing all to well that the earth and rain must stop their misunderstanding . I embrace her knowing that, it is the right time.

By Drago

  • Intro Updated Nov 29, 2010
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Real Name
Shanghai Shi, China
Member Since
Mar 19, 2003

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