A Cinnabontastic NPM – #23 Exercising Blues

Exercising and I don’t quite get along
I know it’s good for my body and general health
and I do have to admit
I do feel quite amazing when I release my
sweaty, sweaty endorphin
(which sounds a lot like dolphins yet genetically engineered
to take over the human world and reclaim their kingdom)

Yet like a compulsive cheating husband
I go to my phone whenever the routine gets too hard
and I stare at whatever useless information
this piece of technological distraction can feed me
just so I don’t have to endure the pain
the way I should.

This poem, in fact,
is being written
right in the middle of a workout routine.

Oh the procrastinating horror!


A Cinnabontastic NPM – #22 Sleep, Damn It!

Like a chronic trivial disease that infects the best of us
I just can’t seem to sleep at a normal time of
let’s say 11pm (or 12am for starters).

I could really fall asleep right at 12am
but there are too many things to do
not necessarily anything truly
of sheer mind blowing significance,
no productive castles to build and mold
but rather utter sheer procrastination
to entertain my self into silly stupor.

Perhaps this is a syndrome
found commonly in us big city folks
where the daily lifestyle is that of chaos
and things to constantly do
while in the smaller, quieter towns
Boredom is your best friend
and sleeping early is a cool thing to do
because really,
what else is there to do?

Do I want Boredom as my best friend?
Fuck no.
I’ll take sleeping late like a procrastinating monster
any day of the week.


I would like to challenge myself to sleep early.

Maybe I’ll try again tomorrow.


A Cinnabontastic NPM – #21 Redefining Circles of Friends

The circles of friends that I possess dearly
they shift and turn in such unpredictable ways
some are ever so subtle and only within years
do I notice the distance that lies between us,
distance not created out of spite
but because of threads that we no longer share.

Some are ripped apart with violent ferocity,
pulled apart by great misunderstanding
or a relationship torn asunder by the pain
we cause to each other
whether it be jealousy or hatred.

I used to hold such islands
with fear and clenched greed,
my hands refusing to let these lands
take the shape as they will
and even if they were changed
by forces caused by elements under my watch,
I still attempt to cling on for dear life.

With time
I have come to learn,
that these lands must change as they will,
and new ones come for me to take part in,
and old ones can always come back
many years later
to memories long past
but not forgotten.

A Cinnabontastic NPM – #20 Vulnerability

We are raised in a world
where we are told
that strength,
the kind the world will smile upon you for,
is found in the absence of tears,
the ignorance of your own demons,
and the valiant efforts
of an individual
any cost,
must learn to smile
and not acknowledge the darkness from within.

That’s what I’ve been told for most of my youth.

Yet the demons that we hold at bay,
the exposed part of our selves
that we feel would make others
think of us less
respect us less
love us less
they are much part of us,
as the glorified pimped out cherubs
that the world would like to pat us on the back for
and tell us how smashing we are as contributing members
of our smiling social order.

This is what I believe now
that our vulnerability is our strength
that it is not a mark of shame that we must shun
but rather,
a newborn dragon with scales yet to form,
a dragon that will become our greatest asset
when nurtured and grown,
to make a stance in this world.

That we have a motherfucking dragon
in our hearts and in our souls
that breathes a fire so bright and hot
to create warmth in the coldness of
the cruelty we as people create around us.

So let me tell you what my dragon is made out of
and the scales that were built
upon the fearlessness of my acknowledgment
of all the things that once made me afraid
that makes me tremble with fear no longer.

When I bit a kid’s finger so hard that it cut into his bone at the age of 6 and found out how much anger I hold.
When I attempted to commit suicide at the age of 10 with a Swiss Army knife because I thought nobody loved me.
When I had to go through several years of anger management therapy and was nearly suspended.
When I almost wanted to kill my dad at 17 when I could not stand his alcoholic abuse.
When I hated everything there was to being Korean and this yellow skin I was born with.
When I unjustly inflicted all my rage and confusion on my girlfriend during high school year senior year.
When I found out I had a bond and could relate with the VA Tech shooter Seung Hui Cho.
When I came to accept that I had a massive amount of anger that could cause damage to myself or to others.
When I realized that my potential to be a great lover could not be reached until I found peace within myself.
When I still need to understand that I am a child in some ways when it comes to giving love to my partner.

With these scales and many more,
I have come to embrace that for this,
I chose the path I am now,
to express what I am.

That my unique experiences,
while unique to me and me alone,
share the thread of a deep-seated
universal common core,
so embedded within humanity
that I know I don’t stand alone
in the imperfections,
the flaws,
the darkness within,
the demons living amongst us,
that all of this,
they can be used for something greater
than any of our shiny polished angels
can ever give to the betterment
of our prime existence,
the reason to be,
the reason to draw a breath,
the reason to exist.

This I believe in.

A Cinnabontastic NPM – #18 Groovy, Simpler Times

(Reflections upon being in a bar with painstaking detail given to have it be set in a 1970’s house party.)

I have fantasies that stir around in my head
wondering what it would be like
if I was time warped into a much groovier time
a time when disco was king
Freddie Mercury was alive and kicking
bell bottoms was the fashion trend to keep up with
and there was no social media
so nobody could stare down at their phones
in the middle of a house party.

But then I realize
“My God, it would suck being Asian at that time.
It would be only as groovy as I would imagine
if I was a white heterosexual human being.”

And then I instantly transport myself
out of this delusional fantasy
and back into reality
while I stare at my phone
to look at the latest viral cat video on YouTube.

A Cinnabontastic NPM – #17 Jealousy Rears Its Head (Again)

that hideous motherfucker
He seems to come out when his sibling
Insecurity is taking shots at me around the corner:

Pew pew pew
pew pew pew
pew pew pew

These miniscule pew’s gather to such a degree
that it begins to suck away
any inspiration, energy, and hope
making me actually think
that downward spiral
looks like a mighty delicious water slide
that makes me question
makes me wonder
as I begin to have shifty eyes
darting back and forth
having a greater desire
to curdle in a darkened corner
rather than stand up tall and defiant,
ready to take on any stones thrown my way.

As I curdle in the recesses of my mind
I see a rather deformed smiling troll

He calls himself Doubt.
Fuck, he’s hideous indeed.

I’m going to have to deal with him right now
for another day.