While young, we stood tall against each other
Without knowing we were mountains.

Now grown, we stand alone, but
Betraying surfaces like fountains.

Mounting finite time and space,
We turn into the earth again,

The way knowledge turns to wisdom,
Only to become unknown again.


This poem is dedicated to every brother, friend and neighbor gone too soon from our communities.

happy birthday to you wall decor

Happy New Year! From Los Angeles

It’s a gift as precious as daylight to be able to greet the readers of JIMBO TIMES at the brink of a new year again. In the days following last Summer’s Back to School event, and the subsequent campaign to save Super Pan, my hands found themselves clinched before the magnitude of a host of other challenges and adventures through The City. Amid all of the bobbing and weaving to get to the next round with these latest travails, J.T. needed to be placed on hold, but at no point did the pages actually leave my sight.

In fact, The L.A. Storyteller has only gotten better organized. For example, readers can now visit the Poetry page for odes to The City in verse from yours truly. Or, they can visit the Events page for a list of gatherings featuring JIMBO TIMES and other friends over the last few years. There’s still more to do to bridge all the website’s material into one synchronized organ, but what I’ve learned through my time administrating for the website is that it’s a constant updating process.

I’ve also found that writing is a challenging, time-staking sequence of events that requires sums of energy and also one that takes a certain process of maturing in order for the clearest voice to break through. It’s mind-boggling to think of just how much of the world is actually made up in this way, that is, with so much effort from the ground up, day by day, one footstep after another. I look to continue writing the pages of JIMBO TIMES as such.

I read once that your heart is a muscle the size of a fist. Therefore, to clench my hands as extensions of that muscle before the gravity of a new world is to brace myself for the extension of life itself; to fight to keep what small body I have before its long shadow alive. The body of JIMBO TIMES.

And so I join the timeless fight for survival that I sprung from myself one day; a fight taking place all across The City but also beyond it, amid all of the places I’ve been to as well and many more I’ve yet to see; a world made up of peers, predecessors, successors and more alike, all of whom turn Los Angeles into Los Cuentos.

So let’s keep the momentum. And let’s keep it magnanimous, LOS.