You walk and breathe and claim your stake on earth
with every blink
the sun arises and sets
For you I grieve that I cannot
come

I can no longer write poetry
I get lost in images

I unlearned synonyms, words
how to run my fingers over verses
while reciting them to be able to tell
what is stressed and un stressed
aspired for their depths and left them at the door (as far as they could go)
so I cannot write poetry
if it lingers in a vacant lot


the last womyn in the grocery store strolled out with her cart to her car and never turned around to see she dropped her vehicles’ keys at the door

I need poetry: the keys

geez, i cannot see a road to you. every time
i took to it, knocked on your door, the flood came,

and after i garnered the courage to take the same
path, a wildfire in your eyes broke out.

the third time i tried, time became an earthquake
ravaging through the city of my life.

everything shook, burned, and inundated. now
i cannot take any more ground failures

and disappearing roads. you are there, and i am here,
and there is a respective sea

of silence in-between us,  even though i do love you,
i stand in front of a landslide, muddied and hurt

This must be how we grow.
All the pain was like bark being pushed out while this tree was growing.
I could not help but to ask myself
“Is this how a tree feels when it is growing a new ring?”

This must be how we grow. 
I have always loved trees. So, I can’t help but to think to myself
“This is how a tree must feel
when its trunk grows a new ring.”

the guava flowers are in bloom
late in summer they dismount
from the circular green lumps free-falling
down onto the grass

specks of white fill the ground
lulling like dancers do
to the rhythm of song
sinking down in the absence of gust and lifting up when the wind picks up

I am trying to walk this way
north, towards the northern star
but i do not care to arrive at the northern star
I simply look for what is in that direction

We ruptured hastily from la tela collectiva the same way a drop of blood emerges from a small puncture wound –round, wholly, and bright-hued.
Yes, we bursted slowly bajo el sol que todo alumbra hacia la sanidad needing no reassurance to which direction to take to. (We know, nosotros sentimos el flujo y el ritmo de esta vida)

I have come to accept crazy hair days
as my everyday hair-day condition
I awaken with some curls at the top and some wavy strands in between, and then some straight ones
All of these paired with a voluminous bounce magnify the chaos of it all
and make me look like a little lion emerging from her blue-green duvet cave
in need of stretching and in search of food

It is raining dear
do you hear it trickle down
can you hear the cars passing by
and the droplets hit your window

the freshness of the air is comforting
it refreshes
not just my skin, but my mind
enough so that I want to sleep and dream
as I lay here with the window half open
I’m still awake trying to coerce a mosquito to exit through the window, but it too hears the water pouring down
and it won't take a half-open window exit

She doesn’t want to belong to her mind so often anymore,
so before bed she walks out into her garden and takes a handful of moist soil,
brings it with her to bed, and holds like a rosary.

and they escaped the weight of darkness peering over their shoulders
where do these people go,
what belongings do they pack
is there a limit on the heaviness of ones' soul

Can they bring love as parting gift? Hide it in their handkerchiefs, and then go

it as if we disappeared
our hands never making it past the hanging  veil
voices muffled by cloth
20 arms stretched forth holding in a cry
worker’s limbs, your daughter or sister
racing heart when they shouted out of pain
they could no longer stand

When labor too pressing too demanding stood in front of them a well dressed  smooth talker and asked politely for just one of their fingers
they again screamed

Gotta have a sense of humor
carry it with you
hide it in your back pocket
and whip it out when it's getting too grim
a joke, a pun, a silly little dance
it can be the arrow
that shoots the harrowing times

and they escaped the weight of darkness peering over their shoulders
where do these people go,
what belongings do they pack
is there a limit on the heaviness of ones’ soul
Can they bring love
as parting gift?
Hide it in their handkerchiefs, and then go

Hoy se habré el portal
y te siento cerca
Las hojas se cristalizan
Bajó la luz

La rara concepcion del tiempo se

deshace y se desliza como pequeños listones naranja
sobre los párpados
De esta materialidad

Tomando en mano cada átomo
Y uniendose a el


Te encuentro en tu casa
Dentro de tu jardin
Regando tus plantas con tu manguera larga
flor de piedra

Heart
illuminate my travels
turn my attention towards my emotions
and let them be my map
my mind does not see

I have forgiven everyone
every hurtful thing
has no space within my heart

that is why my words towards them bare lightness
it mercy for myself and for them
nothing is worthy of carrying

I am alive and there is warmth inside my chest
The sun again makes its trajectory over the sky into yours
Standing at the door of dreamworld
Half anchored,  eyes closing
I begin to understand that the warmth in my chest also rises

This cracked vase, shatters
leaving only the space around it to witness

I pass my hand through the space
only air, I breathe–

I am here
in the vastness
surrounded by the best thoughts I can muster

I am there
in the openness
willing to accept these great opportunities for change

I am over there
waiting for the door to unlock
engulfed in hope, I patiently sit
listening to the mystery rattle its keys
as it stands outside over the welcome mat

here
sit gentle
as the night
prolongs the day

there
sit calm
as the day
absorbs the night

it
is one
this temperate
longing that takes the skies

it
is one
shared sentiment
lingering that breaks stars between light years of nothingness

that drenches
the heavens with silence
so loud that I quietly hear you beyond reason as if we lived in the same house

now
due away
with anger
unfurl your brows and sleep lover
there is no way that I could ever leave you behind


(the world just isn’t made that way)

Hiding in your smile are the fresh flowers
in the vase and the hours you spent decorating your mind with book lines
Hidden in your smile is the mediation cushion
and the feeling of your healed sprained wrist touching the mat

Hidden object in your beautiful eyes
is the dark soil with dying insects, and crumpled brown leaves you turned
into a radiant garden

they see, but who knows
if they really see
water in a cloud
or the challenge in your expansion

Do I take a step towards love
or go the other way
And take a step towards fear

I always pick love because it’s not a sentiment, it is the highest wave.

I always pick love even if they laugh at me for dreaming or scold me
Who is to know how life is to be lived

We drove in search of scenery
native to our southern California

We trodded down the dirt paths
among plants whose names were lost
and quelled by history
here given back
not by scientific categorization but by
the cathartic heat that whispered
of the past and its abiding
presence  

here I snapped the cord
and named the unlisted
parts of me until I
clearly recognized the snapping
of summer's end

soon the leaves
would crisp but
the heat would remain far
into winter I see her eyes twinkle
under the palo verde trees and I know

it never severed the
funis
from my naval, it extends
beyond death, further
than the desert plants
that her and I see on our hike

There are two boughs but only one
below the water bending, breaking against the overflown river’s current -its bark moist. His actions raining down drowning him. The lifebuoy are his roots growing amongst  surrounded in the dark soil. It’s absence of light propelling him to grow.

whether you have someone or no one you must always hold your own

nothing can hand you that
no one can gift you that

The things is I need you to build home within you. One whose roof is strong enough to not be swept away with the ill intention of others options or opinions. A roof off of which all situation not deemed safe to keep in the heart are able to slide off as short and noisy episodes of a stormy season. You must build a sturdy home within you. One with a garden that grows you flowers but also vegetables for you to make warm stew. Make home at last for your whole being where no one can run you off. It’s too long to go with out a solid home so now sink your hands deep and do what only you can do. Build your home within yourself. You will not be alone instead the whole world will come to greet you.

glorious grounding silence engulfs all, evening comes but only makes it’s gust stronger. It is here where my fear touches the tip of my love that I close my eyes and hold the hands of uncertainty—

may hope truly give us wings

“Hope”called by many names
is the true muse
–it is the bird in our hands–
a torch passed down on this long and arduous journey

our desire to light the next one
and dispel the cold nights of hate is vehement
we cradle, what is to come

My hands
are always
dry.

How do we start from here
from this new expansion
from the rawness
from this cleansing
that rubbed too hard it left red marks over my skin
so deep in my being I will never forget
How do I lean into love more and stop turning towards sorrow
how to accept the warmth and let it cover me once more
for I deserve once more, twice more, and an infinity of more

How little I know is the constant
but I am not frustrated or in denial of that
it is fine by me
kicking off my shoes and resting my back over the bed
feet dangling
knowing zero is less daunting now
always humbling
the traffic off of the main road is muted by the floor heating
my fear tamed by my will
that does not want to let uncertainty climb up
upon me

I have hugged a three thousand year old redwood tree and asked it to remember me
someday  tree will use marrow, absorb my nitrogen,  my iron that I grew accustomed to seeing in my youth drip red drip
every month clearing my ****** to grow its own leafy children
I will be locked in it’s green splendor
come spring and summer
and fall I will die again as I did before, and in winter I will disappear as I have done before o my to defy death with the help of my ringed friend. We together. A redwood in my heart my heart in a redwood

Someone is ringing the bell; I no longer know who they are but I feel the clapper’s reverberation.

every child I see is the light of day
how could they not be

i like poetry like all the people here
i like reading like most do

i see art as visual music
i see words holding hands and dancing to the rhythm of music

i know what i like
i know nothing is mine

i close my eyes and open my palms
to catch a dream i cannot yet see

I am speaking beauty
into your heart
loving brown eyes
glowing smile
grazing cow

I am speaking warm sunlight
and bathing calm waters
into your heart

My dear
all is well

Even if I am too shy
I run to you
today I woke up
wanting to speak out loud
these words
in hope they would ride the air current and something would reach you

I do love you, and whenever that truth settles into me I ask myself
so what is the kindest thing I can do for him?
I ask myself over and over again and I wonder if am  I wise enough to know
attentive enough to listen to life’s whispers

I am. Everything after that can fall away. Everything after that is a box.

I am another river—
indomitable. made in your image. mutable

No veils and no guards at the door
–just me standing there, open...
transparent like a window who cannot hide the weather; all eyes can see through me.

I am a lounging lizard
in love with the sun and the brightness of life
in small daily deepening rituals abides the warmth of my heart and a sense of gratitude to last a lifetime tenderly unfolds and continues to drape this expansive existence

I am here to hold you my uncertain sorrow, hold you my jubilant cries while holding with my other palm the shrieks of excitement. I am here to walk alongside you as you walk back from a dead end road you thought would go somewhere. I am here in the rain–unwilling to abandon you when you spit out words half peace & half misguided renewals of sadness. I am here for the sentimental-girlish **** others refer to, to lift your chin up and say “baby girl you got this”. I am here to squirm and dance with you when no one else will. I am here to hold you. I am here. Here, to break bread with you. Here to drink of the same cup and comb your hair when you’re drunk.

I hear the rattling
the noise inside
and I wonder what nourishes it...
too many cold days didn't awaken it
and neither did the days when the heat's haze lay itself
pink over my face, so what makes it shake it's tambores  

give its songs volume
rank it up high enough, so that I cannot ignore it ?

when I find something that makes it louder
I turn towards its direction and I do not waver
I do not know why it calls me,
but now you know why I chase it

I am strong
I am brave
I am carrying my bright light
and my life calls to me
it does not matter how much you resist change or want to put me down or get in my way

I am not in opposition of life nor in opposition of  you; everything inside of me flows like water and I listen for the direction of the stream
perhaps you are not listening
maybe you are too caught up in other things
in that case my dear girl joy is a compass and your heart sees roads your mind cannot fathom

I am not afraid
I am trusting of this world
I am well able and I do not need to cling anymore to anything in desperation
for whatever I need
to get through
I have got deep in my soul so whatever happens know you stand facing a womyn who is full and wholly
And I would always offer you my hand even after you have trespassed
I am passed the black and white notions of life, of books, and dogma, of not searching inside of me, of shutting out my own inner wisdom to conform to outer guides
I only listen my guardians when they whisper through flickering lights
you cannot bring me down
there is not down here
where my being abides

I am up waiting for the inauguration
sleep cannot come yet
I am too full of need
the necessity to see

The prosperous will grow from your left
palm
ravaging the earth skin of your hand
and becoming a volcano that bursts into a beautiful biennial

Your nails will know themselves as leaves and the misery will no longer undo you

You will feel the profoundness of your years
and calmly you will water yourself
and with the fecundity of your acquired patience
you will give rosettes

and I in that second year
will be back
to see you in bloom