I am loved and I should soak up the small gestures of kindness by friends and let them marinate. I am loved and able to let unkindness slide off me because it not a reflection of me; other people are my teachers. And no one can take away the love that is  already mine– everything everyone has poured willingly with into my cup. I am loved. I am a bright beautiful being and so are you.

Oh dear how we wake up to hold the clouds and the sun
The rain and the splendorous shimmer of our being: lightness on this earth

Oh dear how, how can I cry for this long without being seduced by the trees,
the flowers, and the howl of my own deepest nature

I cannot
so I run off like toddler smiling towards today
“Come on” I tell every part of myself

And then there was wind and then there was fire and then there was me not giving a flying ****... and oh how sweet that was!

Oh Nina when I hear your voice from the speaker I am overwhelmed and the guards standing at door of my eyes lose their composure

“ I get along without you very well” plays and I silently cry in a coffee shop

6:49 pm
the smoke and pollution blocked out the red sun over Los Angeles

The crows circled over the 105 Hwy
and the whole sky was ominously glowing

the verandas come to us and the sweetest smell cannot be dispelled from the california orchards blooming,
each season has them blinking food
into existence
and the momentary insects, birds and grown children pick the ripened seeds to nurture their bodies during one rotation of the earth around Huitzilopochtli

I had it under control. I had just spent 3 hours reading, indulging my mind and then it came like a giant wave. Knocked me off my feet
all cliched, down to a bench
My watery guts running down
my twin cheeks

“****” I screamed.
But I knew exactly how I “gut” here.
However, this didn’t make feel any better.
how many ***** can you scream until it gets remotely better.

One was enough for me today.
One calming “F” bomb.

One well-written poem or thousands throughout a lifetime
could still not be worth as much as simply sitting next to you in silence; practicing love is more important than professing it.
I feel this to be true. So where does that leave me; hours away –away from your quietude. I know that only you know.

It was simply Smokey as if the pieces still slipping down her ****** had in those extra days marinated and were now ready to come out to the light of day to become jerky

I like like like art
even fashion…

I can look at the rack
and see 80’s shoulder pad fashion
the oversized, big collars almost
on every shirt

but I
leave them hanging
from the rack.
I’m going for 90’s
silk skirt
tight at the hips
because it feels
more like me. I don’t care

about trendy; I care about “Mmm
it feels good, when I slip it on”.

my life is in the details
I like like the details

I am open to all life giving things I could not imagine. I am open to reimagining several aspects of life      
                 I am
                            And must be
  Open

I see the two choices in front of me

I can choose to become wounded= let this moment break my heart unrepairably, so that when someone speaks of love I laugh in their face boldly and with disdain because I lack trust and have taken the long road leading as far away as possible from my vulnerability

or

I can choose to become wiser = let this moment pass and just hold onto myself as the strong winds try to knock me over because I want to believe in a good love; I do not mean a perfect love  just the kind that makes your stronger because it frees you and walks you to the door of your own beauty



I think I should become wiser.

Don’t you know I love you
When I am lying down
I peel my heart with my hands like an orange

At the center is all the sweetness
all the love grown through a life time

You added to the freshness and the fruitfulness of my center

When I press it, in search of answers; it just oozes despite it all

The truth is I want to be there
I want to sieve through it all
but I right now I oscillate from functionality to the 5 seconds it takes for my eyes to redden and my nose to join it by then it is hard to breathe, sorrow is a heavy daypack

I have reached a wall in my heart, and the climbing is so hard
everyday I have to fight the inclination to recoil in pain
I know I have to summit this peak and then walk the many miles down
but I oscillate

Let us love
the bodies that
we sit inside

run up the
hills and enjoy
the fast gallop
the slow tread and
the graceful mercurial pirouettes
that make us lose
our balance and fall

Whether we are
full of laughter
at our sudden drop to the
ground amongst the flora
or whether we are enraged
by the spontaneity revealing our
evident lack of
control

Let us love this physicality
these hands
–this–
these hard and
soft breaths
that carry us into
the deep valleys
and crevasses that
form around our eyes

May we hold in esteem
all that we are

Where is the steel wire brush that scapes at the red rust like a doe silently drinking water, or still quieter flowers that sway in the pondering light of another city, with another language covered by the mortar of another, where people built cities too. Who is still up in Glasgow staring at the moon? The river Clyde is below me, and the seagulls dance as if they were drunk

Me rindo
ha esta vida divina
y fatal

Kurhíkuaeri  naci depues
de tus dos nuevos fuegos
case al terminarse el mes

quizas fue en un sueno que me vi caer
en la noche deste lo celeste hacia  esta tierra
mi ser  encendido como un cometa
forjando camino por al atmosfera

Es por eso que me siento como fuego ardiendo
Es por eso que mis cachetes son calientes

Kurhíkuaeri, soy parte sol como tu ?

In search
of true reward
I brave the rougher path

I will listen attentively as you knock on my door to propose a walk on a rainy day in sneakers and a light windbreaker. Heart, I will walk even if you take me through the mud.And if you can slow your pace and let me sit to look at the droplets collect on a common dandelion in my soaked hair & the wrong attire, then I promise you I will slug it out with you, my heart.

Sometimes it pulsates in pain
and I ask “ is death near?“
but then I think when has it
never been near
from the time
my mother birthed me
it’s been looming
over my head
holding hands with my nativity

I am on that boat
don’t you know

I already sailed off
can’t you see

Come on’ bruh
you gotta know

ain’t **** you can do
to scare me off

if my boat sink
in the sea of love

at least I dared
and peace be mine

for all babies
are my babies

And on that boat of love
I will cradle them

you want tell me they can’t be mine
well then with your logic
this earth ain’t yours
so why you hacking it up

I on my boat of love
cradle all them babies

I am swaying them in my arms
peace on earth I sing to them
“ peace on earth”

The peaks of illness spike in one city, then the next
from one country to the other
within all people
it goes from mild to severe  
draping all with a gown of distance
  
Disease calls for more than the cells to recover

The peaks of healing will spike in one town, then the next
from one nation to the other
within all people
it will go from shallow lesions to the most profound of lacerations
blanketing all with a shall of amelioration

You look at squares photographs of people
as if they were isolated drawings of a dandelion or a primrose
you take the person and disconnect them from the root
from the dark soil and the sunlight that grew them into beautiful blooming
beings
you study their exterior
look at them as if they were peeled carrots
peanuts without the shell

You read about antiquity, believing it is far removed from you. When did those ancients begin to be ancient? When did the world of old end and swallow them? As you walk out your door with your children, the sidewalk is public. You step onto the park and head for the playground to let them play, and the playground is public, and so is this entire park, and so are the bathrooms and the basketball courts, public like the libraries. And just as your day winds down, you open up your phone without realizing it's a new age—your phone is a public space, too. The ancients of greece told that Medusa's blood gaves birth to Pegasus. Now, the devices of constituents surveil Pegusus into birth. When did the world of privacy end, is it in the process of swallowing us up or is it still digesting us all?

pela noção de que todas as vidas são criadas iguais
                                             Abro a boca,
                                           movo as mãos
                                e canto na direção do futuro
                                   porque na minha mente
                                           a visão é clara

I flipped my phone and it read "trying to look at things from a new perspective".

Have I ever turned a daisy upside down to look under its petals?
No, not with the intent to find beauty there; So, I missed it, the sepal's protective curves and the lightly muted white.

Instead of melancholic
I feel thrilled.
How many more things can deepen in beauty?
if only I look at them differently

How many of the same streets and parts of my daily routine can I repaint with more color, so that I can see another aspect of their brilliance?

My body feels drained
from what ?
I take the stairs and rarely take the lift or the escalators to emerge from stations onto populated streets

Something is leaking, energy is constantly leaving and I can’t put my finger on it
on what is leaving me so tired, so, so very tired

Little by little I sieve through water like a miner who headed west during the California gold rush

I pan through the river until my motion becomes part of the scenery by nature of its consistency

I kneel and feel as though an arm & a leg are missing
as if my energy is absorbed into a phantom limb
circling out of me into something else

What could it be ? I keep panning

(We need them
we need a phone
these days)
the reverberations of this
thought echoes through my
head


emails,
texts,
test results,
code verifications
identity confirmations
coordinating with friends
finding directions
self check ins

the endlessness is built on an abundance of thought
curiosity expanding and seeking ground

then why do I feel drained when a new task is added to the amount of things my phone can do
why do I feel zapped out of energy like a fly who starred at an alluring light only to be shocked at the outcome



... the list grows

The pile gets higher and higher

80's synthesizers for the win  
put aside the nice make-up or the pretty lashes
a pair of earbud and a little DX7 pick me up playlist
and I can ride off into another sonic dimension
as I take a walk through the neighborhood

I wish I could find the photographs of the fishermen and their long glorious nets near sundown at Lake Pátzcuaro

“This is a little piece of your heritage” my uncle said to me. “You must know the people and the history.“ he drove me through artisan towns and stopped at the side of roads so that I could talk to the ceramicists, wood workers, and weavers. All of them had inherited the craft from their mothers and fathers.

My uncle’s study was full of books, it was a little paradise I took for granted instead of frequenting it I spent my hours with my cousins playing in the orchard and running through my aunt’s flower garden. We stayed half the summer hidden behind an 8 foot fence. Only coming out to travel or  walk two blocks down the road to my grandmother’s house that was falling apart.

At the time it’s was as if her house was me, my walls crumbling, my doors creaking, the spirits of the old loud and  in the mirror brown eyes peered back with more questions than answers.

How do I bridge these worlds? How can the conquered and conquerer find peace?

One day the wooden beams of my grandmother’s house pressed too heavily into the adobe walls and the left side of the house collapsed.  They moved her into my uncle’s brand new empty house, the one he’d constructed expecting to grow tired of living in the States, which was located on the same large plot of land.  

Just like that it fell and one day they tore the rest of it down and built it again.

One day, too
I just decided to tear down all notions, combine all the parts, honor every ancestor, and be everything I was. I didn’t have to belong to one place; I was by nature many things.
A girl who stood at the shore of Janitzio taking photographs of rising nets and the smell of Tzintzuntzan was still very much a large part of me. I wanted those photographs to remember.

the people sauntering
around us are their own celestial bodies detached from the outside world
in their mind, inside their screens —they are far, far away.

we pass pedestrians on the street, towards
the same corner park, where we sit and chat, but we are light years from the other folks and from one another. and i wondering if i tilted my phone and aim it’s reflection into their eyes if they’d receive it, if the speed of light is really all it’s cracked up to be then how quickly can it reach them play my golden record of connection “hello, from this child of planet earth with oversized limbs”

There is pleasantness
all around me
I will commit myself
to seeing it every day

comforting can be the night
as my body relaxes and becomes tender
with it, too the mind soothes
and there is no need to worry

there is pleasantness all around us
you can slowly let your body drift to into the serenity of sleep

Let him grow like a flower
among the grass where he was planted

Swaying among the greenery
swaying among the people

observe quietly
listen –all things speak with silence

dare to love the whole scenery
while closing your eyes and picturing abundance

infinite and creative
close your eyes and know all possibilities are open
waiting like a bud to manifest their bulbs into this expansion
so there is no need to go plucking flowers

La lenta sabiduría de la lengua
escurre con corriente fuerte y llena
un frasco entró
¿quien se entera? si cada lengua pide
ojos y cada par de ojos suena
en diferente lengua

¿y qué tal la sabiduría del corazón?
la que dicen que no tiene razón
¿cuantos frascos podrá ella llenar ?

Eu sou uma nuvem
e eu também sou o sol

Eu sou a beleza da vida
sob a forma de uma mulher

Eu sou um pedacinho do planeta
–Outra filha da terra

Eu sou caracol
bactérias
infinitamente inseparável de nossa biografia existencial
–Pequena poeira eterna flutuando na atmosfera do tempo

Eu venho do que foi e será

today
I set another boundary
painted his face with forgiveness


I whispered lovingly
"thank you for raising me."

today, I unfriended him
my reflection answered
"But you look like his mother."

my jawline with its sharp line
history seems as linear, but I do not
want to fall in its linearality  

my will flutters among
the company of monarchs
that have come to represent
the migrant women and men
of the Americas  

a monarch like
my grandmother once was
while she inevitably stood
in front of her mirror, I am placed
in front of mine

all my aspirations
grow wings and set
their destination for a healing
climate

"thank you for raising me
but I cannot let you
break my wings, too"

thank you,thank you
thank you

Soy una nube
y soy también el sol

Soy la belleza de la vida
en forma de mujer

Soy un pedacito del planeta
–otra hija de la tierra

Soy caracol
bacteria
infinitamente inseparable de nuestra biografía existencial
–pequeño polvo eterno flotando por la atmósfera del tiempo

Vengo de lo que ha sido y será

The old woman at the shopping mall walked on the opposite side of the oncoming pedestrian traffic
and I watched how the sea of people parted so I followed her lead
she was Poseidon commanding the seas
this petite halmoni

It seems this week has taken to its own will
chased me down the hill into the prairie as it came close
to lunchtime
–the starving lads crying–
the whetstone ready
its hands skinning my lips,
for once I am glad
there are no feathers
anywhere close to my mouth
–at least I can keep my wings

So I pour all the verbs into my own life
and it slowly feels so much better
and I am in no hurry for anything

I am settled and in the rhythm of this

If I can practice,
sitting here, being
in transit on a vehicle
and feeling the sun simmer
me behind the glass tucking
my hair slowly
behind my ear,Touching
cold glass until
it becomes a word: animate
now worldly and shared
If I can focus on the scent of flowers
and count my breaths
I am sure that when I hold
your hand, I will feel it’s warmth

so calmly,  I practice
for I love myself
and I love you

the old women in a circle sing
into the long hours of the night
this has never been entertainment
or for the sake of perfect execution

this is has not been “the best rise”
or an assemblage to “showcase”
this has been bare feet on earth
spit chucked out in reverence

calling it a celebration would be close
but you would be closer
if you closed eyes as they sing
for then you too would understand
it is payer above all

Te extraño
soy rama del arbol
que cayó en la agua  
sobre la sima de la montana

gajo bajando con el rio
siguiendo la corriente
hacia tu paradero

desde aqui la jornada se ve larga
pero nunca le e tenido miedo
al torrente o la prolongación

si algo hace el tiempo
es profundizar lo que ya existe

Tight glam rock pants are back
mullets  have made a comeback
with the ladies and short fringes
are all the rage
curly hair is edging in