My Life, Begun

I wish I saw the world
or the world saw me
and held me uncurled
in the waving fronds
swirling ponds with pools
of cool water, unrequited
with life uninvited, and wars
like stories veiled, held
under shimmers from the sun
my life, begun

I wish I could coil
and uncoil like a snake,
taking part in retraction,
stories eaten backwards
half words like poison,
biting tongues and I
could slide under shade
fade into patterned grace...
my snake-like face
and fate like tracing
curls I left in sands
time that holds no clock
sliding under rocks and
speaking in reverse-
in verse like ssssslippery lies
biting tongues and I...

I wish the folding unfurled
the world called my name
and I came like a child
whose mother cries a worry
to the wind, my life begins
in water and ends
in lies, and I want
to feel the push and pull
the full extent of living-
cords swimming to their break
a snake that knows its soul
unbending as it goes
and I want to fall into grace alone
home inside the shimmered glass
the passing from a child into yon
my life, begun

Just like me

Think you have rights?
Natural, inalienable,
written in love, or stone
tablets or scrolls or....
maybe stars that write
across the evening skies
breath, life, living,
believing, giving,
receiving, touch....
where are they
in the miles and yards
of paperwork assigned
to drones who do not know
you
where are your rights
in piles and scores
of laws and legalese
employees who do not know
you
where are you in the middle
of this law and that
new laws, regulations
outright manipulations
here is how to live, how
to breathe, how
to be
you
You think you have rights?
In the middle of this....
collective madness,
this unholy trade
for something
that looks like happiness
but restricts, constricts,
confines, refines,
defines, contains,
until all that remains
are rules with schools
that teach and preach
what not to pray
or say
and how to be
a human commodity
collectivity
never something new-
not YOU
never in this mindless space
this place for human drones
our human homes
with cameras and intruding faces
watching what you do
telling you what to do
what it means to be
you
and you would trade
your rights away
to feel this way
like children coddled
swaddled babies crying
always buying what they sell
hearing the lies they tell
you will be happy, and safe,
and free
as long as you, and you, and you,
and you....
look and behave just like me.

and I love you...

Maybe two souls collide
stars astride, falling
crashing to the ground
the sounds of breaking glass
the shards of breaking stars
on breaking grass until
a breathing soul awakes
shakes the ground with longing
belonging in each other
like none other in the sky
live or die there cannot be
stars in the heavens alike
the price we pay for intimacy
the price we pay for height
and laughter rings in open air
open cares like freedom in a smile
all the while hearts ripping through
the soldered skies for these few things
heaviness brings them falling
falling into orbit with all souls
all souls that fly between the two
the words we breathe and dare not say
that you love me and I
and I
love you

Haiku

Pussy bitch cunt whore
call me these I'm back for more
love, hate intimate

Dancing and Burning

I have a dream

It wasn't long ago
skirts got hiked up,
bras were burning, frozen fingers
gripping elastic as though it were a sign-
weights lifting off shoulders

Freedom sang and we danced
King cried into the skies
"I have a dream!"
a dream that included women,
though they grabbed at the dream
with icy fingers slipping,
pussies sliding out from under
places unseen,
suddenly waving like a white flag
the flag of unconditional surrender
into the world marked by men

coarse lines etched into pavement
left over from wire burning
feet stomping, madness
strange wet dreams swimming
into the American consciousness
because no-
not everyone
can
be
free

no

Not everyone can climb
into their liberty, their dreams,
the doctor had a cure
for one disease, but the cure
only made women sick, sick,
our pussies and breasts suddenly
hanging from us like jewelry
our prized possessions
passed around at parties

no

we did not rise to the side
of men, we did not see the end
of oppression, no
no, we danced and burned
and cried out to the goddess
and fucked every man we found
and danced around and
around
until the "movement"
made us sick in our souls

We are less women
nameless with our sex
defined under the weights of men
defined in a world that
does not value men OR women
not modesty or power
not prayer, not life
not community, no

no

Now we are androgynous
we had the dream and it slid
down our inner thighs
we lost the dream
like a violent miscarriage
which is what the "movement" was-
a miscarriage of justice
never finding the souls
of women

no

It only sought to write on women
expectations of a man's world
here is what it means to be free, little girl
let me hand you your liberty
you can be naked before me
I will fuck the freedom from you
but you will never see bondage
beyond the illusion of change,
smoky veil hiding the reality
of a dream
never fulfilled.

Hello Barbara

A poem my mother wrote without realizing she was writing it. Her words, reorganized.

=======================

Hello Barbara
she did the usual
it sounds like she might be having
some sort of disassociative break
I've been thinking of her
I understand her fierce love
it borders on scary to think of

of course I'm permanently barred

rejection
seems to be
written in the skies
proof of our love
always has to be
easier than
nothing - doesn't seem to be
touch, thinking of her, hope,
clinging to less

I don't know how
to be Sky's mother again
and refuse to answer
so am I to come knocking?

all other parties
were hoping that her fierce clinging
her scowling deathmask face
disorganized hope
that it's nothing, but then again,
Maybe
We love her
her sister, mother
brother
and refuse to risk

she doesn't seem to be enough

on with life
and forgotten

Tour mi abode....

Me, as a wee pup.

My refigermator - my angel, my candle holder, and my umbrella death tree.

Coolest stuff ever, minus my cups (hang on the white hooks).

Living room.

Living room, plus my "altar" and my dying spider plant.

Count your blessings.

Some of my favorite books. The one at the far left is "A World at Arms," which is actually one of my very favorite books. =)

Miscellany

Ecuadorian mask is guarding my honor ropes.

Cuteness

Creativity run amok.

SALTINE BOX? WTF BFF?

Happy Easter

Oh no she din't. Oh yes she did!

Max was confuddled.

Where most of my books are these days - several sterilite containers. Yay bed bugs.


Finit