Some

.

people

.

love

.

t

o

.

play

.

that

.

game . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ that

game

.

t

h

a

t

.

seeks

.

t

o

.

entertain,

.

.

w

i

t

h

.

.

words

.

t

h

a

t

.

maim . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

i

t

h

–

–

–

words

.

t

h

a

t

.

shame . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

i

t

h

–

–

–

words

.

t

h

a

t

.

aim

.

t

o

.

humiliate . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

crowd

–

–

feeds

upon

–

–

every

flame . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

crowd

–

–

feeds

upon

–

–

every

grenade

.

.

o

f

.

.

bitterness

.

a

n

d

.

hate . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

.

t

u

r

n

.

away . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

t

u

r

n

.

away . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

–

although

.

some

.

m

a

y

. 

love

.

t

o

.

play

.

t

h

a

t

.

game . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

would

.

rather

.

fade

.

f

r

o

m

.

places

.

where

.

kindness

.

n

o

.

longer

.

reigns . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

.

would

.

rather

.

fade

.

f

r

o

m

.

places

–

–

where

.

love

.

h

a

s

.

forgotten

.

h

e

r

.

name . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

t

u

r

n

.

away.

Reflection: This was a forgotten reflective-themed gem of a poem that I wrote back in September of 2013 in reflection of not only those who routinely engage in senseless gossip and create drama – but also those that participate and do nothing to defend or protect the targets of such attacks.

It

.

was

.

m

y

.

way

.

of

.

saying

.

without

.

words . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

.

was

.

m

y

.

way

.

o

f

.

showing

.

beneath

.

t

h

e

.

blur . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

the

words

–

–

remain

unheard . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

the

.

meaning

.

undiscerned . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

leaving

.

t

h

e

. 

words

.

t

o

.

stir . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

the 

images

.

t

o

.

merge . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

s

–

–

–

the 

haunting . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

taunting . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

lost

.

opportunity

.

burns . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

turns . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

burns.

Reflection: This was a personal struggle-themed poem that I wrote back in May of 2013 where the affected party seeking some kind of reconnection or reconciliation cannot find the words or actions needed to bring about a successful resolution. And he or she remains haunted by the lost opportunities for making this happen.

I

.

would

.

h

a

v

e

.

followed

.

y

o

u

. 

to

.

t

h

e

.

moon,

.

.

i

f

.

.

you

.

h

a

d

.

wanted

.

m

e

.

too,

–

–

back

.

w

h

e

n

.

I

.

wanted

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

.

would

.

h

a

v

e

. 

followed

.

y

o

u

.

to

.

t

h

e

.

moon . . .

 –

 –

 –

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

did

.

y

o

u

.

truly

.

believe

.

.

I

.

.

w

o

u

l

d

.

choose

.

t

o

.

be

.

t

h

e

.

fool . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

h

o

m

–

–

–

would

.

run

.

t

o

.

you,

.

.

j

u

s

t

.

.

because

.

y

o

u

.

today

.

n

o

w

.

say,

.

.

y

o

u

.

.

want

.

m

e

.

too . . .

 –

 –

 –

.

.

.

 ~ just

.

because

.

y

o

u

.

today

.

n

o

w

.

say,

.

.

y

o

u

.

.

want

.

m

e

.

too.

Reflection: This was a romantic-themed poem that I wrote back in April of 2012 where romancer refuses to play along when the object of his/her affection in the past suddenly becomes more receptive.

I

.

know 

.

y

o

u

.

can

.

s

e

e

.

 it’s

.

difficult

.

f

o

r

.

us

.

t

o

.

know,

–

–

 which

.

way

.

t

o

.

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

I

.

w

i

l

l

.

allow

.

love

.

a

n

d

.

kindness

.

t

o

.

decide,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

allow

.

these

.

t

o

.

be

.

m

y

.

guide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

I

.

know

.

i

n

.

time,

.

.

w

e

.

.

will

.

a

l

l

.

come

.

t

o

.

realize,

–

–

that

.

y

o

u

.

were

.

kind,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

not

.

s

o

.

blind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

that

.

y

o

u

.

knew,

.

.

w

i

t

h

.

.

open

.

heart

.

a

n

d

.

mind,

.

.

t

h

a

t

.

.

although

.

w

e

.

stumbled . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ still

.

w

e

.

tried . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

no

.

longer

.

w

i

l

l

.

I

. 

spend

.

m

y

.

time,

–

–

trying

.

t

o

.

decipher

.

your

.

grand

.

design,

–

–

 because

.

I

.

trust

.

y

o

u

.

are

.

kind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ because

.

I

.

trust

.

.

y

o

u

.

are

.

n

o

t

.

so

.

blind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

that

.

y

o

u

.

have

.

t

h

e

.

eyes

.

t

o

.

see,

–

–

it’s

.

difficult

.

f

o

r

.

us

.

t

o

.

know . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it’s

.

difficult

.

f

o

r

.

us

.

t

o

.

know,

–

–

which

way

.

t

o

.

go.

Reflection: This was an inspirational/hope-themed poem that I wrote back in April of 2012 as a reminder that the surest path to closeness with God, the universe, or our higher power is simply love and kindness. I played the wonderful, song “Tonight” by Sixpence None the Richer and the poem pretty much wrote itself from that (playing the song repeatedly on low volume to create the “moodset” for the poem). It was written fairly quickly – like a couple of hours or so. If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

I

.

d

i

d

.

something

.

t

o

.

free

.

someone,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

watched

.

f

r

o

m

.

afar . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

.

watched

.

f

r

o

m

.

afar . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

s

–

–

–

the

.

heavy

.

grays

.

returned

.

t

o

.

light-hearted

.

youth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ leaving

.

t

h

e

.

darkness

.

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ leaving

.

t

h

e

.

darkness

.

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

smiling,

–

–

laughing,

–

–

singing,

–

–

dancing,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

bathing,

–

–

within

.

t

h

e

.

warmth

.

o

f

.

sunshine,

–

–

felt

.

f

o

r

.

the

.

v

e

r

y

.

first

.

time,

.

.

i

n

.

.

a

.

long

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

love . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

joy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

the

beauty . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

a

s

–

–

–

so

.

fine

.

a

n

d

.

divine,

.

.

t

h

a

t

.

.

it

.

nearly

.

brought

.

tears

.

t

o

.

my

.

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

.

nearly

.

brought

.

tears

.

t

o

.

my

.

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

watched

.

f

r

o

m

.

afar . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

watched

.

f

r

o

m

.

afar . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

watched

.

f

r

o

m

.

afar . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

little

.

d

i

d

.

I

.

realize

.

a

t

.

the

.

time,

.

.

t

h

a

t

.

.

deep

.

within

.

m

y

.

heart

.

a

n

d

.

mind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

l

l

–

–

–

of

.

this

.

love,

–

–

joy,

–

–

beauty,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

sunshine,

–

–

would

.

b

e

.

forever

.

mine.

Reflection: This was an inspirational/hope-themed poem that I wrote back in April of 2012 in reflection of how just the slightest warmth or kind gesture can put into motion positive forces that uplift, encourage, inspire, and create happier, brighter surroundings, and a happier, brighter life overall. Always remember that all you put into the lives of others, comes back into your own – and get into the practice of living in this fashion. This poem was written in reflection of a specific something I did for someone – who was anxious and highly stressed out about certain life events – so that I could put him at a peaceful ease. Often the love, warmth, peace, and kindness you offer to others become your own.

REWRTE

My love has gone

behind the sun,

since you left

darkness has begun,

your smile used to

shine upon me

but now we’re nothing

. . . more than a memory . . .

–

–

–

. . . I see your face . . .

–

–

. . . I feel your touch . . .

–

–

within the dream that somehow

crumbled into dust

. . . breaking my faith . . .

–

–

. . . breaking my trust . . .

–

–

. . . with each and everyone . . .

–

–

–

so today

my clouds hang low,

over the summers

that used to smile

. . . so wide . . .

–

–

. . . so bright . . .

–

–

within mine heart

. . . dying out . . .

–

–

–

–

–

dying now.

Reflection: This was a melancholy-themed poem that I wrote back in January of 2005 where the contemplator looks back with regret on living a life within the tight confines of societal norms just to fit in. We get the feeling he or she will never be happy living in that fashion – because living an authentic, “true to yourself,” kind of life – independent of what others think, believe, or try to convince otherwise – is the only way to truly be happy.

That

one

.

does

not . . .

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

that

one

.

does

not . . .

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

that

one

.

does

not . . .

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

that

one

.

does

not . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

.

.

.

.

I’m

looking

.

forward

.

t

o

.

the

fade . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

looking

.

forward

.

t

o

.

the

fade . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Up

.

a

n

d

.

down,

–

–

spins

.

’round

.

a

n

d

.

’round . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

looking

.

forward

.

t

o

.

the

fade . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

looking

.

forward

.

t

o

.

the

fade . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

looking

.

forward

.

t

o

.

the

fade . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Anything

.

n

o

t

.

to

.

feel

.

t

h

i

s

.

way . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

looking

.

forward

.

t

o

.

the

fade . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Sunshine

dims

.

a

n

d

.

bathes

.

i

n

.

gray . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Sunshine

dims

.

a

n

d

.

bathes

.

i

n

.

gray . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

all

.

t

h

e

.

hours

.

w

e

.

dared

.

t

o

.

share . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

all

.

t

h

e

.

closeness

.

w

e

.

embraced

.

b

a

c

k

.

there . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

.

.

.

I

try . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

try . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

try . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

try . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

try . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

.

.

.

replace

you

.

with

another . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

try . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

try . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

.

.

.

replace

you

.

with

another . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

another . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

another . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

another . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

another . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

another . . .

–

–

–

–

–

–

.

.

.

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

–

–

–

that

one

.

does

not

.

smile

.

a

s

.

bright . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

that

one

.

does

not

.

feel

.

a

s

.

nice . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

that

.

one

.

does

not

.

look

.

a

s

.

fine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

that

one

.

does

not

.

seem

.

a

s

.

right . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

.

.

.

I

try . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

try . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

.

.

.

replace

you

.

with

another . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

another . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

another . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

another . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

another . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

another . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

that

one

.

does

not . . .

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

that

one

.

does

not . . .

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

that

one

.

does

not . . .

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

that

one

.

does

not . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

.

.

.

.

I’m

looking

.

forward

.

t

o

.

the

fade . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

looking

.

forward

.

t

o

.

the

fade . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Up

.

a

n

d

.

down,

–

–

spins

.

’round

.

a

n

d

.

’round . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

looking

.

forward

.

t

o

.

the

fade . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

looking

.

forward

.

t

o

.

the

fade . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

looking

.

forward

.

t

o

.

the

fade . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Anything

.

n

o

t

.

to

.

feel

.

t

h

i

s

.

way . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

looking

.

forward

.

t

o

.

the

fade.

Reflection: This was a romantic-themed poem that I wrote back in September of 2004 where the contemplator reflects on a romantic relationship that hasn’t worked out for whatever reason – and has trouble moving on because no one can be identically replaced. As such, it seems the only way to overcome the pain and to move forward is for the memories to fade hence, “looking forward to the fade.”

The

reflection

–

–

always

soothes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

always

moves . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

t

o

–

–

–

a

.

warming,

–

–

welcome

view . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

All

.

t

h

a

t

.

heals . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

all

.

t

h

a

t

.

wounds . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

become

.

twice

.

removed

.

f

r

o

m

.

the

.

truth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

twice

removed

–

–

from

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

from

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

the

charm . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

the

expression . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

the

meaning . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

the

sensation . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

ever

blurred

.

a

n

d

.

unsure . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

stretched . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

twisted . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

burned . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

eternally

yours . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

eternally

yours . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

marching

forward . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

marching

forward . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

marching

forward . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

in

reverse.

Reflection: This was a personal struggle-themed poem that I wrote back in April of 2004 where the affected party becomes chained to an addiction he or she just cannot resist or overcome – waking repeatedly to chaos, darkness, confusion, and clutter. It becomes a lifelong struggle – and it seems the affected party will never be able to escape the forces of temptation, addiction, and compulsion. The struggle can represent any form of temptation, addiction, or compulsion: drugs, alcohol, sex, gambling, obsessions, etc.

Let

.

m

e

.

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

m

e

.

grow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

m

e

.

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

m

e

.

grow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

m

e

.

grow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

m

e

.

grow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

m

e

.

grow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

m

e

.

grow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

So

.

m

u

c

h

.

more,

.

.

I

.

.

wish

.

t

o

.

know . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

So

.

m

u

c

h

.

more,

.

.

I

.

.

wish

.

t

o

.

show . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

m

e

.

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

m

e

.

grow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

m

e

.

grow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

m

e

.

grow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

So

.

m

u

c

h

.

more,

.

.

I

.

w

i

l

l

.

own . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

So

.

m

u

c

h

.

more,

.

.

I

.

w

i

l

l

.

control . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

m

e

.

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

m

e

.

grow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

m

e

.

grow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

m

e

.

grow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Gold

.

a

n

d

.

diamond . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Diamond

.

a

n

d

.

gold . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Gold

.

a

n

d

.

diamond . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Diamond

.

a

n

d

.

gold . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Diamond

.

a

n

d

.

gold . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Diamond

,

a

n

d

,

gold . . .

–

–

–

–

–

–

.

.

.

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

.

.

.

although

.

I

.

know,

.

.

I

.

w

i

l

l

.

never

.

slow

.

t

h

e

.

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ never

leave

.

t

h

e

.

soul

.

o

f

.

stone,

–

–

which

.

h

a

s

.

become

.

m

y

.

home . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ never

repay

.

t

h

e

.

debts

.

tomorrow

.

owes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

a

l

s

o

.

know,

.

.

I

.

w

i

l

l

.

never

.

b

e

.

alone . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

.

w

i

l

l

.

never

.

b

e

.

alone . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

the

.

political

.

snow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

others

.

w

i

l

l

.

always

.

follow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ other

driven,

.

ambitious

.

souls

.

w

i

l

l

.

always

.

b

e

.

eager

–

–

to

know,

–

–

to

own,

–

–

to

show,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

to

control . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

m

e

.

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

m

e

.

grow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

m

e

.

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

m

e

.

grow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

m

e

.

grow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

m

e

.

grow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

m

e

.

grow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

m

e

.

grow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Reflection: This was a reflective-themed poem that I wrote back in Feb of 2004 in reflection of politics and the ambition of youth. I wrote this poem based on my observations of people when I went to Washington D.C. So many were dressed up in business suits, with very serious expressions on their faces, and working late hours.

It

.

snows

.

every

.

d

a

y

.

in

.

LA . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

you

.

may

.

b

e

.

entertained

.

b

y

.

her

.

smooth

.

champagnes,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

costume

.

party

.

masquerades . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

y

–

–

–

her

.

sweet

.

a

n

d

.

charming

.

arrays

.

o

f

.

dessert

.

trays . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

y

–

–

–

her

.

beautiful

.

smiles

.

s

o

.

nicely

.

arranged,

–

–

they

.

skip

.

a

n

d

.

dance

.

across

.

t

h

e

.

page . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

in

.

t

h

e

.

distance,

.

.

y

o

u

.

.

will

.

always

.

remain . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

you

.

w

i

l

l

.

always

.

feel,

.

.

a

.

.

little

.

strange . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

a

.

little

.

out

.

o

f

.

place . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

come

.

tomorrow,

.

.

a

n

y

.

.

tenderness

.

f

o

u

n

d

.

today,

.

.

m

a

y

.

.

vanish

.

without

.

a

.

trace . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Come

.

tomorrow,

.

.

a

l

l

.

.

memory

.

o

f

.

your

.

name . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ your

face . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

may

.

fade

.

i

n

t

o

.

the

.

alleyways . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

.

.

.

if

.

you

.

a

r

e

.

fortunate

.

enough

.

t

o

.

discover

.

s

o

m

e

.

distant,

.

welcoming

.

ray,

–

–

which

.

might

.

h

a

v

e

.

gone

.

astray . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

r

–

–

–

warming

.

words,

–

–

which

.

pass

.

y

o

u

r

.

way,

–

–

you

.

better

.

t

u

r

n

.

right

.

around,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

give

.

a

.

quick

.

embrace . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

before

.

t

h

e

.

summer

.

escapes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ before

.

t

h

e

.

color

.

bleeds

.

t

o

.

gray . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

because

.

i

t

.

snows

.

e

v

e

r

y

.

day . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

snows

.

e

v

e

r

y

.

day

.

i

n

.

LA.

Reflection: This was a reflective-themed poem that I wrote back in September of 2003 in observation of one of my first visits to Los Angeles. It got warmer and better over time, however.