ricochet...

all of this time
the one thing that serves as a reminder is time itself.

things have changed
people have changed
lives are here
loves are there
and my hands are growing softer-
too soft for a woman my age.

things come alive as the seasons change
creativity
perspective
warmth
a lover's secret smile
haunting me in my every waking moment

i've been noticing noise more these days
quiet all around me
i sit in my space and listen for the quiet
but all i hear is noise

out loud
out side
the snow falls
the sheets gather around my body
i sleep more soundly
with the dogs around me
and her beside me
shoulder to shoulder
bodies intertwined more perfectly than any act of god- as perfect as she can be.

i have been carrying many stories in my palms
and sharing them a little bit at a time
stories of fires that have been walked through
ways of thinking that have gotten me this far
and some of the downfalls that made me who i am

she listens
as i speak
and we learn a little more each time about what it is that is between us.

as she tells me where she's been
i fall a little bit more
for those green eyes that change color depending on her mood
and the spaces she's been in her head.
i learn a little bit more each time about what this thing is between us

we carve out a little more space and safety for one another to fit inside of
and the time caresses more from our tiny hands

i like to think that this time of year forces us to slow down
and notice more around us
about us
inside of us

it certainly has my attention
and this time i want to make the most of what i've been given and what i find
because just as it is and always will be;
change will come and my hands will harden and my palms will close
and my company will evolve
just as i will

that is why i share what i can
when i can
with those around me
so the mystery is not lost on us-
the things that are visible
must be remembered just as those things invisible are felt...

mother not to be...

in the spotlight i look for some protection
this weight of things bigger than me makes me feel inside out
crawling around and in motion
i'm looking for what i'm feeling right now

something new has been triggered
it comes in news of births and people making the transition from best friends to mothers
the shift of her face is evident
on the video
and in the pictures
she looks whole now
she looks calm

eating dinner across from a two year old
and feeling her little eyes pour over me and what i am

smiling at those brown eyes
curious and full

it took her a while to release me from her visual grip
inside those moments i kept meeting her eyes and looking for myself in them
that was me i said
under my breath
that was me 34 years ago

what has the time made of me?
the only thing that has changed
is my age

not the memory

something broke inside me a little bit right there at the table
where i was surrounded by strangers turned family

something that lives on the surface of my emotion
something i can't shake as hard as i try
it remains there and won't let me go.

i started thinking
with all this around me
and i recognized that it was about this time that i was conceived
and i wondered if i ever cross your mind

it was in mid october that my life forever changed
the signature of a mother turned stranger proved to be the severing of the person i was not born to become
i have learned to just accept all that i will never know
but sometimes there in the quiet moments
and new lives that come into mine
i am reminded of my beginning
and it makes me think of my end
and how in a lot of ways i've carried on the idea of severance
i have chosen to not be a mother to a child who will bring me closer to those i no longer recall
i have emotionally kept myself at such great heights
that no one can really penetrate my emotion at will
the laborious climb makes some tired
and the waiting has made me impatient

still i climb my indestructible ladder
because i recognize the precarious edges
and the slippery slopes

i don't use any map because i don't have one
and though i might be falling a little bit in love
i fight the urge to lay down and stop climbing
so she can reach me
because something inside of me tells me she's good for the climb
just as something is telling her that i'm good for the climb to her

and somehow inside this sadness of memories
and moments
and new little lives
i remember it's all ok
because it has always been ok
and because i know in my bones that i have survived the hardest parts
and those emotions that live on the surface
they will always remain
as the reminder that i have travelled so far
and still have so far yet to go...

invincible invisible girl...

she's been on my mind a lot lately
and i've been a little disconnected
feeling a little ajar
and it doesn't make sense until
i'm not thinking
then it hits me

you, my universal traveller now
keeper of the memories
it was the date i missed
but didn't really miss
it has been two years
since the last night that i saw you

you came to me in a dream a couple nights ago
the exact vision i can't recall but i felt you around me
and i slept better than i have in a long time

had i known that night was our last goodbye i don't know that i would have done anything different
i told you how you felt to me
i told you that i admired you
and said more about me and my life than i ever had before
and you
you told me your secrets too.
maybe i wouldn't have been so full on the bottle that night
and maybe i would have come seen you at work the next day like you asked
but we were never really good at keeping those verbal plans
or even planned ones

i'll always wonder what would have happened had i followed through that date we had- that night in December
the week i was so sick
you said you had even picked out your outfit
it was on your bed
never worn
never seen

we never really got a good shot after that
always missing the moment like sloppy borrachas.
we were good like that i guess

i miss you sometimes which amounts to more than less
and there's nobody singing to me in my dreams like you do
i'm glad you've reserved that spot for my eternity
i like the sentiment
and the smile you always give me

soon it will be your two year anniversary and
i don't know what i'm gonna do that day
i don't know if i'll want to get out of bed
i don't know if i'll want to sleep all day
i don't know if i'll want re-live
remember
or be reminded of the time that has passed

i want the day to pass through
and i want to hold on to what i've got left of you
that's all i want to do.
that's all i'll ever want to do-
till we take on the wind again and fly...

the dismantled tribe...

i remember it to be much brighter
and i sit here trying to imagine this
and
i try to explain how the emotions don't quite fit the moment
i recognize that i won't be able to escape this for a while

i look up and recall
that looking down it must appear to be much different.

could you stay for a while

could you be me for a while

would you feel this for a while

the tenses won't make this any easier to decipher

i'm telling you it won't make it any better

the silence of the darkness has been punctured yet again

what do they think of us

the coast was clear the day we got here

we offered our fry bread
we made an offering to the world of strangers
in peace
thinking it would make sense if we did things right

the first time around

now it's just a big mess on our little reservation
that was never as much reserved as it was reversed

the peace pipes have been replaced by the bottle of the white man's demons that have now become our own

the chanting has been replaced by hollering and screaming

and fighting the authorities that are just another reminder of the oppression

i have lost my way

and no number of indians in my house is going to bring home back to me

we live beside you neighbor

a dismantled tribe

we shatter your sleep
and disrupt your dreams of materialistic wealth

we bring the lights to your bedroom walls

we bring the loud humming of fire engines
and ambulances

not because we have been assaulted by your decency or your fires

no

we have become unrecognizable to our children who swear in the alleys

and litter the ears of the children with curses and threats

i offered the children a gift of movement

and i haven't seen them since

i have spoken in their circle and square patched rented space
and asked for entrance to wander through the yard

i wandered back and didn't feel the presence of the hands of saints or animal spirits

i am broken too i whisper through the screened window as they holler below in the night and wake me from my dizzying dream of a motherless world

i shut the blind
and remember this isn't what i imagined it would be
i was handed the freedom that was inherently theirs

my skin bleeds the same hues but in my history we fought different wars

us

this dismantled tribe

we cannot be complete
when you are not

we cannot get there quicker
with the bending that has caused you to break

i could almost like you
if i could make sense of this hopelessness

who's going to come find you

i remember it to be much brighter
and i sit here trying to imagine this
and
i try to explain how the emotions don't quite fit the moment
i recognize that i won't be able to escape this for a while

like mabye for another 400 years...

she tells me...

sitting across from her
watching the way the candle light attaches to her
as she speaks

i feel myself falling
and hear myself convincing myself
of things otherwise

i speak to the degrees of control
and how i've got some matters of the heart figured out
she sits quietly watching me
folding and unfolding my hands
my arms
my emotions
together
then a part

and she offers these words to the silence
as i take a breath
she says
you are really committed to the idea of things being temporary, aren't you?

the words stop me
the air
ceases
my body becomes still
and i suddenly think of the strange new combination of things that were handed down to me

the lessons and stories i heard along the way
the experiences i witnessed
yet no longer recall

the fathers father's fear
and mothers mother's justification
and the rule that has come to be my ultimate defense

sitting here with some sort of deeply buried truth spoken
unearthed
that i had never looked at or truly seen before
as told by a beautiful woman i've just met
sitting across from me
in the semi-darkness.
my god
she has found mine.

it's there laying on the table
messy and
in disarray
this testimony that seemingly made sense all these years in my heart and mind
somehow seemed fallible and incomplete coming from those sweet lips that i have desired to kiss for so long

she tells me
what i know
what i've come to know
and when i hear it it falls short
of what i believed it to be

but then again
it holds up
against
the cult of timeless believers
who say the truly wise
practice the art of non-attachment

this is my lesson here
it is this reminder
that i've had it wrong up until now

you cannot desire things to be temporary out of fear
as i have done
i must rearrange the strange things i've been handed to make the image of choice
i choose to commit my heart and mind to the idea of things being temporary
because they are
whether the heart strings are attached to the blood rushing through the body
or simply attached to the ideology of the truth as it has been witnessed

either way
she spoke my truth to me
as i spoke it to her
and in the way she tells me
i know more
about her
and i know more about what she knows about me...

they say if god made you then she's in love with me...

you wake
vibrations beside your head
effortlessly rising to meet your day

when i wake beside you
and reach out for you
i catch your arching back
as your body is moving forward and away
out of the warmth we've created

hours and hours of our bodies
beside each other
creating
heat
and
energy

it surprises me that i can close my eyes at all with the nearness of you
dancing in and out of my dreams
hands holding
your world in mine

i sleep
like i've slept beside you forever

complete
fulfilled
at peace
full
of
ease

you disappear
then return
sliding back into the warmth that waits for you
you murmur
and hold on tightly

i rise eventually
to be the sun
i rise to meet you
and learn what living inside your world means

gentle
sweet
and intentional

i rise to be your sun again
you rise to be my air
i breathe
you
you breathe
me

and we hold on tightly
to what we've found

so perfect
so beautiful
you are
to
me...

which one says...

sitting close to mediocre
i'm waiting for something
waiting
like i've always waited
except something is different now
something i can't define with words

just yet

i'm new to this
and at the same time
practiced

it could really go anywhere from here
she makes sense
i make sense
this all makes sense

right now

my body
on the eve of bleeding
reminds me that there are some things
that we can count on to show up

so much i don't know
so much that's not in me to ask

just yet

my creativity
is like a train track with a few detours
with no maps
and no signs

gotta have something feeding me
from somewhere

my belly is getting rounder
with my indecisiveness
she begs for discipline
something
she says

needs to come about

of this

but then there's another part of me sayin'
don't stop doing what you're doing baby
keep on movin'
keep doing what your doing...

our. trap. set. affair..

hi hat that emotion
make it sing high

and the snare
there to remind you of the rhythm you give me
steady lover
hold steady

the toms
remind me to turn it around
give it a whirl,
make something new out of this song we sing every time
we feel all right

the base drum takes it deeper
to the kick drum
which is there to give the subtle undertones
melancholy turned to explosive magenta

it's true i've got you memorized
i know where the sweet spot is
i know how to make you loud
and i know how to bring it in to a low steady rumble..

you should have seen the music between us
it was all there
every part of a song
the melody
the words
the perfect composition

us.

you and me.

ties that may bind...

a foolish heart is what he's talking about
with a million experiences to back him up
and three wives to remind him

i ask what love is
and he simply tells me he's not one to give that sort of advice
but we all start out that way
foolish in love
foolish in life

he says to stop before you start falling
because that's where he went wrong before

but between his words i hear a perfect harmony
something connected between heart and mind
i could heed his warning
knowing he's had it wrong more than right
but that's not like him to make perfect sense

he was more of a father than a dad
he was more absent than present
he was more of a man's man
than a woman's man
he was more quiet when he should have spoken up
and said too much when he should have kept quiet

and who am i to hold it against him
that's what ties us

a foolish heart

and i wouldn't tell anybody that i've got it figured out
but i would say i'm coming around to getting it down
more and more each day
it's about recognizing
the calling
and the response

it's more about meeting half way
to every moment which ultimately comes back around
seeing it through until its faded out
and knowing when it's time to say goodbye

he has said goodbye to me before
and i decided that i wouldn't let his foolish heart
break mine.

so here we are again
father and daughter
tied together
by a common thread
that will teach us more about everything than nothing

some sort of resurrected conviction of the heart
which is the beginning of forgiving ourselves
for having a foolish heart...

drop it and pick it up...

full power runs down
i wait for something to stir this sickened mood
a day full of slow movements followed by hi energy motivation to play the games
only to listen to the music
only to keep it going

i've noticed that a lot of what i've been witnessing lately serves as a reminder of what's been going on in my life
the human condition is a parallel i guess
it's familiar
and far reaching.

filling my mind with randomness
waiting for time to take this sickness from me
i wait
and think of how i block energy with my hands
i curb it from entering and exiting my body

at my hips
my hands rest
inside of my pants
it's comforting but somehow odd at the same time

then there's my stomach
i hold that energy in too much as well
my core
it needs to move around and push and pull energy

the boys
they have me figured out
i've told them more than i've told them before
well some of the boys anyhow

i have a feeling the one boy i'm not giving much information to is still waiting...
i do have moments when i've got it figured out
what i want to say
but then i just think to myself
it's no use
he's probably over it by now

but still

those boys are easy to me
and hard at the same time.

and the girls
i need to stop being so disappointed by them over and over again...
heavy maybe but somehow not as heavy as some other things

i've got a mixture of lust and desire on the tip of my tongue
and somebody's got my attention
the mystery attracts
the flirting is dangerously close to moving forward
in what direction is anyone's guess..

i am reminding myself to be content in mind
because my body is incapable of it right now
but as i move through these highs and lows of purging an illness out
that she gave me
i remember
how i told her
that she gives me fever
and she is the only who can take it away

and then i remember
this sort of fever is just the kind that i want in my body...

simple...

you bring an ease that is good to
remember
must we define it if it feels good?

lingering at the bile level...

i ask if she can stay a while
and she whispers that it is her time to go

seems like it's always time to move on
and into a new direction
i've painted a picture that doesn't quite fit the interpretation

except i can't remember what it's like to escape from this
this moving from things

lessons we were never taught
includes staying

nobody stays anymore

so we are never really sure what to do when someone
looks like they are making a home beside us

she told me she loved me today
in letters written upside down
while i was reading an article about porn

she tapped my foot beneath the table to draw my attention
from the train wreck of an existence before my moving eyes
she hummed some child's sonnet while she sat and waited
the juxtaposition couldn't have been any more disturbing

i smiled when i read the words
and wrote "i know"
upside down and crooked
i didn't repeat it back
and she sunk a little lower in her plastic chair

seems sorta silly that i would have withheld those words
given the loss i am facing now with suddenly losing an uncle
but i don't want to give her any sort of false hope about our future
i'm still figuring that one out

i remember the time when i couldn't wait to let those syllables roll off my tongue.

perhaps i'm the one most practiced at not staying

anyone could tell that we were destined to be more then the confines of girlfriends

we are family
and sometimes that is more
and less..

whichever way this rolls out
i am reminded that people leave all the time
sometimes suddenly
and sometimes so slowly that you mistake their movement as coming towards you instead of moving away

these are the lessons i am noticing
i have not mastered them in the least

yet i try
and i gargle these sorts of things day in and day out in the back of my throat
i practice taking notice
and getting out of my head enough to see them clearly
i am learning to decipher what to swallow and what to spit out

today i swallowed and my stomach rumbled in appreciation..
this is one of the pleasures of life that i found while awake..

Jerry...

10.21.09

I don’t know if I have much to write about

She told me
That you got to feel it to heal it

So new to me she is
But this isn’t about her
Or her unshakeable resilience
That I hope to mirror myself

I need to breathe for a moment
Without eyes of strangers running over my every letter-
My every emotion.

There is no poetry in death
There is emptiness
Silence
And empty spaces that he once occupied
He was more strange
Than a stranger
He was the unsinkable Tangye
The one who let it all get away

He took some hard knocks and held it against himself
The same way he held that bottle

A father never wants to bury his children first
The same way he doesn’t his children worry when his time comes

Still I am here to grieve
In some way

These things never get easier even as they happen more and more often
They serve as reminders
That we are fragile
so fragile
Despite the regularity of the occurrence.

I come a bit unfocused
And frankly off guard
But sometimes death doesn’t send out invitations or notices
It arrives and summons our attention then moves on its way
Not noticing any sort of emotional wake it has left behind

I’ve got some things to think about
And reconcile

The missed opportunity to say goodbye is where I will start
The end is never very far
Or so I’m told
But I’ll take my chances
And hope my days are above being numbered…

endings...

blank...
my head is blank....
what i have heard has not settled just yet
the news
of your death just reached me
from a thousand miles away
a call from dad
telling me that you were gone..

low voices
resemble a trembling
of anger
or sadness

i am blank

i turn on the music that she gave me
it makes this make a little more sense
though it doesn't emotionally

the words;
my heart is like a jigsaw puzzle
pick it up can you fix it for me
can you figure it out..

i want to smoke
breathe deep in something unforgiving
to remind me
that i am temporary too...

litany of movement..

sex

wrapped up in a bottle
tied up in a knot
laid up in a hotel room
with nowhere to go

tossing
turning
charting new territory
with a name
new to my lips

arch, bend and break

close but not close enough
i got things on my mind

remember this
remember this

conversant
a little

taste
more and more

thin walls
remind me
of my lack of boundaries
in room 400
the way i like it to be

heavy then light
furious
then
soft
wet
then
wetter

sex

printed on a ticket
posted on a card
placed beneath a door
out of sight

walk out to daylight
lighter
more awake
more alive
together..

boundless anticipation
to return
again
and again
and again once more

a litany of movement in my body
moved to my mind
between my legs
and all over you

signed
arms crossed
hands running down the length of your body..

remember this...

To the one who found, climbed in and made a comfortable home in my mind...

i am ready to take you in
a little bit at a time

i'm vulnerable in this
because i'm open to finding out more about you

who you are

i remember that i wouldn't want to be measured against myself
and i try to apply this
while taking your world into mine

what i have of you is becoming sweeter by the day

i've had your passion
and i've had your vulnerability in my hands and mouth

it takes little time to know that i want more of you
but these things, done the right way take time
and i'm not about rushing anything that takes time
trying to make it something it is not ready to offer just yet

you've given me a new sort of inspiration
to be wide open
to take it all in
and be ready for anything

i'm less than competent at putting this feeling into letters
that are as beautiful as you next to me

in time i say
in time i will find the words that do justice
to this seed that has been lightly planted
in me

until then
i will blabber at the newness of you
and love each and every moment of our bodies in negotiation...

presumptive lineage...

i've made myself too available somehow
somehow it appears that i'm living with some sort of truth that has become me
i've played the part of the giver
and i've played the part of being the taker

taken a hundred steps towards my intention
only to find it has become lost in my compass
i fall
and i rise

again and again

i've come to rest on the belief that each day
each person
is a new chance
a new possibility

i breathe in and i breathe out
and take in a new life
of my own

i shed the wings
that carried me here
i bury them

and begin building new ones

stronger

bigger

to take me to my next perch

i cannot let it be known that i carry them all with me
each and every one of them.

this is what you do for love

this is what you do to love

she sleeps in my head
her face resting above my bed
she loosely caresses my dreams
bringing me clarity
purging the questions

the color of the photo
slowly fades away

i take her in until my eyes burn
then i close them
and remember

and forget

her smell
her voice

her eyes
her mouth..

a letter to no one
and everyone the same
a letter to myself
reminding me of this brilliance that is at the tip of my tongue
the tongue that was forced into my mouth
i have taken it and made it my own

there is no muse here
there is no further intention

only words
only glimpses
into a moment
a feeling
a temptation
a regret

they all find me
scattered
and i build a puzzle from the pieces i recognize
and turn it into a symbolic image that i don't...

chuckanut drive...

it's symbiotic
it's surface
then deep
it's elusive
until it's not..

he speaks lightly
he covers topics, breezing gracefully over what his existence has become
years removed from the purpose he grew up believing in

he eats his shake
and drinks his words

i sit across from him
in my usual form
there but not there
reminding myself to be there more
a new person next to me
she reminds me that he is plenty good reason to slow my world down for a bit
i agree after i struggle with wandering thoughts
as he tells his story that he's told me before

before it got to this

then he sets his granddaughter straight
and throws that curve ball that shoots right through this little heart of mine
i felt like a little girl looking up at him sitting there
telling me that time will take him away
and he's ready for it..

these feelings are knocking me sideways

i see the blue in his eyes and i know it's been fading since the day she died
how can i blame him
how can i be angry
what place is it of mine to minimize his loneliness
only so i can keep mine at bay..

something shifted inside of me
right there
as he began talking about the leaves on the lawn that he raked up
after he told me he's got everything taken care of so it's no hassle on our grief

cremated..

leaves..

but what about me
i haven't heard all his stories yet
i haven't decided it's time to let this story end
the one where the page turns to a new chapter in my evolving life
there are some things that i don't want to change..

i'm not ready for this sort of thing i think
as i rub my temple and face trying to hold back the tears

i'm not holding them back now
i'm
preparing..
accepting..
one little strand at a time
but i don't want to
i really don't want to do this

again...

King size...

9.19.09

time spent together
un-interrupted
and now
severed.

your day
today
32 years
you have walked, witnessed and been moved by your world
sometimes gentile
sometimes harmful

I am new to your experience
And you to mine
We moved through a period of 30 hours at a mock 10 speed
You were a stranger upon entering
You were a lover and confidant upon the days end

Sitting here
after
thinking
about what has happened
I am left in that familiar space that seems half full and half empty
The cross space where the heart strings and mind meet
One speaks louder than the other
Both equally legit

I wonder about you
I want to know more about those big spaces
You keep off limits to those around you
I want you around
And I hope you are ok with that

I feel like we’ve passed the same hurricane waters before
And wonder if we washed up to this place at about the same time for a reason

Quite a day to be reborn…

Desmo chica...

9.10.09

something moving through me slow and persistent
an awareness that reawakens me time and time again..
you.
you this ever illusive girl.
you show up every once in a while and you pass through with seeming disinterest
and that suites me fine
but then you return in my head
pleading in some way i vaguely comprehend
for me to notice you again..

i'm stuck here in the middle of what is real and what is not so clear
and i wonder if i should move forward
to what i have no clue.
Perhaps you come to serve as yet another muse to stir me up
stir me out of stagnation and creativity.
I will gladly accept you as such since the chance of getting to know you seems pretty unlikely
but still
i will move around this like i do
and wait for something to push me further into you...

think of that.

the ego is a delicate thing.. it's good to exercise not being perfect or perhaps being acutely imperfect... it forces the ego to wake up, walk away and laugh at itself... i am laughing hard right now...

my day...

it's my big day
or not really
if you think birthdays are just another day
but to me it's a reminder
and a reason to reach deeper into my intention

i like to reflect on the previous year, my 35th
and think about what i want to do better
or learn in my new year, my 36th

as i lay here in bed on my day
reading poetry
feeling sore and stiff
i open the window and take in
the unmistakable smell of mountain air
i can see them from where i lay

sun sending shadows down on the paisley bedspread
birds singing their songs which i'll never know the words to
i recognize myself as content

content with my reflections of the year passed
and happy with the new year ahead of me

i think the new year will be about transition
physical transition
i want to move more
into new spaces
i want to breathe in new air
of mountains
cities
and lovers.

i feel the heavy thoughts of parents i never knew
who must undoubtedly be thinking of a daughter today
and i let those thoughts move through me and out

i feel so fortunate to be loved by so many wonderful people
and am glad that every person has their own day to feel this special

this moment is perfect
there is no better way to be
than content on my day...

undone by my muse...

8.12.09

it’s a cauterized sort of love
I walk around with a basic level of understanding that you know
You know my ultimate intention

From the mouths of strangers
You hear of your newest stranger-turned friends’ strange love
Anything but
But in reality
My reality that is…
I’ve been waiting for years
Only to have given my own drunken testimony
To those you call family..

I surmise a future based on the past that has lasted roughly as long as the sun has been up today.
I won’t be outdone in (by) this
I won’t be undone.

Not to be outdone by myself
My ego
And my pride
my recovery of good judgment
Demands an isolation of my words
Of my heart…
Until you(ve) leave (left)

Then it comes rushing
Rushing
And I find I’m submerged in this illusion
Of you and I
And this love you’ve yet to recognize as true

Thinly veiled intentions go unnoticed it seems
Yet the way we embraced

You held me
That was no illusion
I felt your arms
And your body
Next to mine

You didn’t let go
The way I did
You held on a little longer, love

So I think of the things that I missed the first time around
I practice the art of reliving
And I think of your smile
And your hair
And your body
Lying next to me
In the sun
In the bed
On the beach
Beneath a million stars
And even more grains of sand

I surmise a future based on the past that has lasted roughly as long as the sun has been up today.
I won’t be outdone in (by) this
I won’t be undone

Maybe someday I will have the chance
To be irresistible to you
Maybe someday
Maybe someday
I won’t come undone around you and then you'll know...

the thing which can't be undone...

last night you said..
in between the laughs
and the food
and the slight overtones with the hands
which were interspersed with the leftover emotions of guilt,
pleasure
and sorrow
that have been tucked neatly within the
day dreaming
and hopes
of what someday could bring
which were sprinkled with family
and new beginnings
and you cutting
your locks
after all
this
time-

some photographs full of new memories to come
and the new lovers
which
aren't
so new
after all.

we were traipsing
in the middle of the new faces
and the new spaces
and the places that your family
will soon own
and we sat down at that table
the one that has the fingerprints of many holidays
and evenings that we finessed our way through

as lovers
and friends
and barely acquaintances..

and you stood
beside me

in front of the mirror
and you wore that ring
that was a promise, unkept
years ago
and said-
put this ring on my finger again and tell me you want to spend the rest of your life with me...

that my love
is not something i can say to you at this time...
the words fell
like years of of your heavy locks on the floor
we scooped them up,
tied them neatly in a bunch
laid the scissors across them

which represented the occasion
of a severing-
of emotions
history
intention
and
what's to come...

rooms of the mind...

7.23.09

God only knows what you’ve given me-
Despite the fact that your coloring has faded away
I still learn lessons from you
Sometimes while awake on airplanes and
Sometimes in the quiet just before the sun fades to darkness

Reminders in most places of who you were
And who I have come to be-
Sorrily incomplete
these aspects are

Surely I am still in transition
And you-
Perhaps you have found a new journey

Still I try to piece together all the tiny fragments
It takes removing myself from the spaces I hold most dear
Only to find places even more sacred
In spaces outside that are so wide and vast
They leave little room for bad wisdom

I come away more clear
More secure in my footing and perspective
There is little room for the spaces self denial occupies
The certainty is there
It is here

And finding a new home in me

I can’t change all the things I’ve said
Or the things that have been done
I can’t change the people I’ve stood beside
Nor the one’s whom I let stand in front of me
I can’t change the names of the lovers I’d held
Or the way we left things unfinished
I can’t change how I’ve hurt you
Or how you left me
I can’t count the ways or times my ego led me through my waking hours
Or the countless times it cost me so much for some cheap thrill

In the end it costs something
Whether it’s integrity, genuinity, truth or love
These lessons leave little room for bad wisdom...

walkin, talkin and gettin high girl...

Something about you-
A taken woman
You are
As well as growing on me.
You are a muse for my wayward mind-
Something intriguing about the way you move and carry yourself and your life
On those tall shoulders of yours.

Soon to be gone
You are-
In and out of my life on that busy street
With ease and a quiet smile you entered
I’m sure you will leave the same way.

I don’t think I have said as many unknowingly insulting things to anyone I barely knew
as much as i did to you-
And both times your reaction was sweet and quietly withholding of the truth you have come to know

I learned a lot from those moments-
Your grace
My ignorance
Your ease
My quick and broad generalizations

Still you invited me to sweat with you in a quiet room
Where things are purged and newness invited in
You invited me to become a better person beside you through movement and intention

And I will never forget that.
You have come to settle in my mind as a sweetness that few come to occupy, behold or otherwise obtain

I thank you for what you have quietly given me-
Proper and otherwise….

leaking fury..

it's about fear
and moving into new spaces in my life
turning out old patterns
and creating more efficient,
honest
new ones
i won't deny that i am falling a part
that i'm spilling about myself
leaking tears and fury on the innocent skin..

love cannot be overheard...

Loosely you don't recognize my truth against anything i've offered you
before now
and i'm not sure how to make you believe me any better
then you have before now
Someone said "don't act like the loyal type if you need to explore
she doesn't need that sort of dis-service again."

i thought of where i've been and how i've represented myself
differently and how i'm trying to make up for misgivings
i've offered in the past

i'm now not sure who i am here to love
other then my heart continues to stop for you

which leads me to believe that i'm here to love someone
though emotions tie me
more
strongly
to her
which makes sense
or not..
will love overheard ever make sense?...

umbilical cord connection... unfinished

6.29.09


my connection to you though fickle at times
feels like something close to an umbilical cord connection
You,
sometimes are all i need comfort from,
connection to,
and love with..

temporary pain marks a transformation...

somewhat detached
this is where i want to be perhaps
not in a moment of wanting
not stringed along by a series of moments
of the same

i am here
i am content
i am fulfilled
by the things that so recently didn't complete the seemingly insatiable hunger

as if calmed by an invisible suitor
mentor or friend
i am free of the endless desire of wanting,
needing

as if the ink on my skin
so new
so perfect
still entering my being
is the message
the meaning that i have been searching for
and now found

i am at a place that seems to be the pinnacle of my conscience
i have so far to go, i know
but this temporary moment i am witnessing and feeling
is amazing
and untouchable
by any one but me...

in daylight, sometimes with company or even by yourself...

moving in and out of surfaces
sometimes deep
sometimes lightly treading
i found you so recently
and am quick to forget the spaces i've been in the recent past
your words remind me
that things come to pass
and that is a very good thing for the two of us right now

i feel awake since knowing you
partly because of your presence
partly because it is where i've come to rest
I find myself challenged by you
something you inherently own
forces me to look at myself in new ways

to be better
to want better

i wanted to tell you that i'm very aware of what it is that you have to teach me
something about humility and witnessing things in silence
symbolism abound
you represent the grounded party of who i want to be

i am unsure if you recognize in yourself what it is that i'm privy to
but if my words can reassure you that surely there is evidence of your healing
let it be known

grace follows me as i come to settle
on new things
new ideals
and new beginnings...

city girl in the woods...

she's the kind of girl who likes to keep herself busy
lately she's been cutting out patterns that represent the life she lost
she says she feels like she's been handed some sort of second chance to rediscover herself

i'm getting the chance to finally discover her
and i won't say that the years that it took to get close to her where easy to endure
but the time has come and i've got nothing to believe in except that something's telling me my time has arrived

us, ordinary people, we wait, we wish and manifest
for the things in life that best suit us
sometimes we have to take care of our lovers
and sometimes they end up taking care of us
things get heavy on one side
and a little lenient on the other

i can finally say that i've got it down
the part that proves that i'm ready to go right now
if the heat of the sun on our reading bodies is any indicator
of the words i've got lining up in my eyes
then let these words prove the point

i've been waiting for you girl
to find your way to me
and now that i've got a little bit of your attention
i'm gonna choose my words as mindfully as i take you in

eyes, skin, smile with a voice to match
i am paralyzed in between awe and deep appreciation of your beauty
i hope that someday you will notice me the way i notice you
until that time i will wait just as i have been
and discover you discovering me...

spoken things unspoken...

it's about hearing the inbetween little things
and feeling things out
I’m on a path to figure out where to go from here
The talk inside my head says one thing
The emotion in my heart says things that makes even the heaviest of feathers fly

This heaviness is the kind that’s good
But I’m struggling to stand inside of it
I feel as if I’ve spent eternity beside you
And your absence is a killer.
Someone said you were traveling-
That’s where you always go when things get hard

I don’t know where you go to hide
And I don’t know if the anger you say you feel is on the up-mend
Or if you are still too wounded to feel any sort of fire

I’ve never known for certain how these sorts of things go from potential to smoke and ashes
All I know is that somewhere in the writing
I made a commitment to love you
I don’t think you could comprehend this sort of truth but despite not telling you
I’ve known for some time on some level
That I would possess your heart
And you would possess mine

We spoke of realist ideology
And how that can hamper the romantic gesture in a lover’s eye
But holding the truth until it is no more
Is a better contract than overthought fairy-tales

Of course in the midst of this I realize the more I try to read you
The more you slip away
I wake up hearing you call my name
And It makes me want to keep waking up again and again

Perhaps this is the dance we must dance
I will keep the rhythm until my song of you runs through and through
And only then will I move from this stance

My hope and fear is that you will recognize me in all this
And fall away…

uh huh, it's her...

let it be, meli
let it be...

lost beer and records...

here with him..
we are stoned and hungry
drunk and curious
about connections
words
and pictures that mean nothing to us

standing next to me
sounding like rev. jessie jackson
you sway and move with your pyromania
something says it wants rock' n' roll
and what do you want...

you, my crackers and beer sort of man
spitting words in my hair, and side of my face
you pace back and fourth looking for vinyl
and love

now listen to me, i've had a few things to say here and there
throughout the night
things about vulnerability
and douche bags
and dykes
you stood there with a seeming canadian/french "i'm anything cuz i'm adopted," look
and swayed back and fourth

in the quiet sounds
in your headphones
in your music...

this is how it starts, huh,
these sorts of things

well, i'm wondering if this must be some sort of beginning...

what's in a name...

I recognized a few days ago that i've spend almost 34 years trying to fit inside an identity that never resonated with me.
yes- those letters do not belong to me.. this is something i've inherently known but it was proven to me by a kind stranger. It's one thing when your head tells you something and another when your body confirms what you knew. yes- those letters do not belong to me.. when asked why she changed my name from adriana to melissa, my mother's response was-"because i always wanted a michael and melissa..." hmm, the sad ignorance in that reply- the grave consequence that i recognize even more now brings my attention to the bigger issue at hand... but aside from the politics in which the residue still remains on my skin- the most simple concept of this is vulgar to me... at what point must i stop making excuses for the things done to me and every other colonized, stolen child. what two year old doesn't know her name and how would she react if all of the sudden her only connection to her origins where stripped, fluffed up and stamped with those letter which do not belong to her? it seems laughable how much it never fit me.. and even more so that someone thought it would.. all this time i thought it was me who was somehow not getting something so simple as who i am- but now recognize it was because all these years others have been calling for someone who is not me..yes- those letters to not belong to me and no i will not try to fit inside them anymore... what i will respond to is not even the letters my birth mother gave me but letters which i have given myself.. and no you cannot know those secret letters...they are mine. call me whatever you like- no one's gotten it right all these years anyhow...

6.1.09

today as i see it...

4.30.09

I've decided instead of the premeditated writings that i proofread and release beforehand that i'd free flow write- and post the things that are happening in "real time." more raw, more real..
Last year at this time i graduated from the biggest test of my adult life that i didn't create myself... education...
As i reflect on all the work and time and things that came from that experience a few things stick out in my mind-
one of them is my political and social awareness. another is my confidence in myself and recognizing that i am capable of expressing through writing what i think, and reflecting and critically analyzing it as well. I was challenged in so many ways by peers and teachers who opened my eyes to so many things but really the most vivid thing i remember is sitting across from rachel dow in our alternative knowledge class... something intrigued me the moment she sauntered in and sat across the room from me. I stared minute after minute, hour and hour at her- transfixed on something i saw in her- about her... when finally i got the nerve to talk to her i found her to be warm. we walked home together that day and the weeks after- her walking her girlfriends greenish blue bianchi beside me. we exchanged numbers and i didn't see her again for about 4 years after that. Until one day when i went into chiang to see my new friend Roxanne and show her my motorcycle and there was rachel behind the bar. the rest is history between us but last year this time when i was graduating- there was an empty seat next to me.. that was rachel's seat as she was to graduate at the same time...she didn't make it in person but she was there beside me in spirit for sure...
fast forward to now and i'm graduating on another level... i'm in the middle of growing pains.. forcing myself to solitary confinement emotionally so that i can reflect and figure out what it is that i want in life. I have to be honest that there are moments that i question why i'm not with F, after all- there was so much that worked... but i come back to rest on the realization that her place in my heart is very special and that will never change..i move on to others and again realize that this time isn't about choosing- it is about decision making and healing.. i've always been a glutton for love but the love i've been giving hasn't been all that i have to offer. So in this time i'm quiet and i'm alone and i'm feeling quite all right.. i have space to stretch my thoughts out, my emotions out and just linger a while longer in them. I have no where to be, no one to talk to, no one who needs me to be anything for them. I am free though the strings of attachment certainly reveal to be sensitive just the same. i am missing people. i am feeling weak at moments. and i am fully embracing it all...certainly rachel is sitting beside me again watching as i step into the next level of my journey...

Transformation letter..

I've noticed some stream line main topics in these things that i write- whether they be about me, for me or simply about how i interpret others. For many years i've searched for something that others may take for granted or perhaps have a better grasp on; love, identity and ego.. These days my intent and focus lies very much in answering some of the deeper questions that have molded, shaped and even misshaped my life thus far... I try to reveal and share the dark moments as well as the bright moments where i've crossed another prolific canyon in my journey. I am very aware of the importance of balance in choosing these writings. I feel a transformative energy stirring beneath my visible surfaces, something shifting- paradigms, ideals, outlooks and attitudes. A purging of self, which is a recurring element in this blog.. I am always amazed at the depth in which our spirits and lives shake out of us seeds of growth- forcing us to comprehend what we are doing, re-evaluating our intent, reinventing our mission. This is single handedly my favorite part of being who i am- knowing that despite losing myself to the questions and searching for the answers I only return recognizing that my home in myself is more secure.. My best self is when i am left to my own devices to coax out the residue of love, experience and challenges that collide with my everyday existence.. I am most open in these moments, most clear, and respectively most happy. The intent of this blog is not to entertain others with the education and miseducation of Melissa Tangye, it is simply proof that i am willing to relinquish control over things that have plagued, puzzled and taught me most about myself. I am doing this for no one but me- as egotistical as that may sound. I don't have any preconceived ideas that others will walk away more empathetic towards me- i hope that people, if anything, will recognize other forms of existence in this world. I am rambling at this point but simply wanted to share my new found happiness in manifesting and receiving enlightenment. My hope is that i can remain open so that i may continue to learn more of the lessons that i'm intent on learning..

~M

One liner tangents...

~ Why am i putting myself on trains that are taking me nowhere I planned to be?
~ is her little white body representing the fragile waves i rock with my angst day in and day out?
~ when will i know that my testimony is ready to be honored?
~ why is the child in me a thief of identity?
~ why is the adult in me a con artist of self?
~ and where is the old wise woman that i've got rocking back and forth inside my soul?
~distraction is the main course of this elaborate meal i've made...
~distraction is the higher power that i'm subscribing to at this moment....
~confusion is when winning or losing aren't two things...
~the one who kissed my forehead when i arrived in this world and the one who will hold my hand when i leave it...
~this place i'm living in now isn't my home
it feels sort of like a hostel
where the energy of the bed keeps me awake all night...

6.4.03

I woke with the remains of an angry dream on my pillow
the residue has left me silently numb
wondering what it is about my truth that still feels unheard
there are moments when i'm at peace with what i have shared
and other times
my dreams fitfully remind me that i am not telling the whole truth
my mother
my brother,
it was they who pushed me too far
it was her drinking
and
his slow exit.

Things are happening
and it's shaking me from the inside out
my anger is not yet liquid
it is still very physical
it is still very untapped by words
frozen images,
slow moving images
words that flow without concern
Is my truth enough to stand by alone?...

vulnerability at most...

once someone breaks down, and shares their grief with you- surely something changes. They let you cradle them, hold them, sit with the uncertainty for a moment, not asking for clarification but simply being a witness to something that will shake you but nothing you will ever comprehend and own… it is deep and it is scary- you cannot fix them nor assure them of anything.. the grief must find its way out- onto your skin, onto your clothes and though the tears are invisible the energy is anything but.. still you sit and you let them bleed and you sit with your thoughts until the moment passes and they are cried out and feeling like themselves again.. this is the beauty of sharing.. there is something amazing going on- that has no words, no clarification can complete. It just is… simple, beautiful, hard and whole…

The Unknowing...

4.16.09

it’s someone’s birthday out there
it could be mine too

there’s a certain uncertainty that I live with
it knows no certain faces, no certain voices
it has only been me in this
me with my faces and voices

something’s got a hold of me
a sadness I can’t explain so that it makes sense to you
there aren’t words for these sorts of things
they are gutteral and they are heavier than letters

I’ve made sure I had reasons for just about everything around me-
Reasons why things happen,
Reasons for the way things end up
I’ve made excuses, some would say, for the things inflicted that I could not rationalize in my heart
I have carried things with me that I thought I had let go of..

The older I get, the louder it becomes
The constant knocking at the door of my conscience
“Come Look for me” is what I make of the noises that keep a steady dis- rhythm
the questions become more adamant about finding their answer counterparts
a slight brush of the emotion from my mind becomes a shove at times like this..

she asks what it is that has gotten me-
and I stumble for an explanation

Separation, isolation, death, idleness, sadness, ignoring, running, packing up, letting it down, grieving and letting go

almost like a ritual there are moments when I need to release this. When I’m not feeling so strong.. it comes to me and asks to be set free. Does this make sense? I am grieving for many- not just me… I am grieving for a lost mother, an absent father, a missing abuela and dreamt of abuelo. Though I do not know them I have been carrying a grief that belongs to them – that they carried for 9 mos. That they buried in me with every embrace. That they sent overseas to be with me where I am.. these things can not be ignored.. there is a history, an existence of something deep inside of me that I am forced to reconcile with. My pain comes from the not knowing… it reckons me for answers and I have none… not about them anyway… I am searching for my answers out there, storing them like nuts of wisdom…

someday I will make you understand.. your rugged experience of me is simply a match for the rugged experience I have had with this uncertainty… just as you struggle to make sense of me I struggle to make sense of the deeper existence that lives inside my bones…

damn her...

somewhere something has been stirred…
the thing I called loosely standing has become a sitting… I am down
and the upheaval has begun..
just a few words at the end of our session- in the last 15 minutes crashed down and into me- rattling my inflexibility loose, pushing every button I though I had severed the connection to.

She said I don’t let others care for me.. I don’t let them in.. I’m good at being open but not at being vulnerable. I think of our meetings called therapy as maintenance not deep sea fishing where we have to fish for that ever illusive pain-
that hurt that I know I carry,
that we all carry.
Poking and prodding doesn’t serve a purpose.
I’ve come to accept that there is and always will be a deep seeded pain that resides in my bones.
I wonder if this is a self defeating ideal.
I have come to live with it and function with it as a part of me.
It doesn’t control me..
or does it?

Isn’t that what living is?
Isn’t it itabout managing the pain?
I think I’ve done nicely for myself..
I’ve made connections time and time again..
they may come and go but they still live inside of me.
Surely I am not one of the few who live inside this existence...

digging in the dirt...

4.15.09

Looking back now I realize it was the kind of dream you always remember somewhere in your consciousness-
Me especially since I’ve only had two of the kind in my life-

The first was not as telling- it was more of a glimpse
The military looking man at the bar was not him-
he was merely a glimpse of who He was..
he was a grandfather but even in that I recognized a part of myself
It was in his eyes…
His demure smile and perhaps the way he held himself…with an air of importance and purpose…

The second dream- the one more recently was a voice-
“mi hija, mi hija” I could hear him yell over the phone when these mysterious women I didn’t know, were kidnapping me to take me to him..
in a fiery rush and tumble I was there standing before this short, overweight balding man whom they claimed was my father, mi padre..

he engulfed me in his bare arms and slowly repeated himself, “mi hija, mi hija”- we spoke desperately- both of us trying to make ourselves understood- “who are you, where have you been, how are you, tell me, tell me everything you can” in the broken language- with the broken heart, and broken promises than bind us. I don’t recall what I saw in him that was part of me—perhaps the eyes again.. eyes that I’ve looked into for years searching for someone else’s..

I walk the streets of my heavily populated latino city and I feel contempt.. any of them could be my family and I wouldn’t know it… that is the worst part.. I feel like a fool not knowing my seed bearing parents. I am the lost fruit in the world of seeds that will never match my empty memory.. my blood flows somewhere else I know- but after so long the not knowing starts breaking down the home of my temple.. which should inherently be familiar
but is not-
It so wickedly is not…

My fires...

my creativity has been focused on writing words on your body
instead of on paper
my energy has been a linear line
from me to you
i wonder if i will find that you,
my muse, have taken my words from me-

it's all fire here
it's all horizontal
that is where i flow best-

i'm distracted by your words
your lips
how they pull me, play me,

i want you
almost every second
of
every
waking
moment

and when i'm asleep
i am lying beside you
and i want you
from where i am

i watch you as you sleep
and when i climb on top of you
i listen to your heartbeat
and i feel at home

you are the gypsy i've been looking for
my match of sorts
i am with you
and i am love

thank you lover
thank you
for giving me this
and you...

some sort of freedom..

something of a testimony
something like a letter
with a destination
eyes to see it
a mind to think it
a heart to feel it
my words come at once.
nothing that this contains was premeditated
i have no clue what will be revealed if any thing at all
i will purge
simply purge
like i do
like i will
like i have.
i know it is to you
for you
about you
perhaps
but not about you.

i am sitting on the porch
a boddington's at my right
with the sound of hammers hitting the side of a home that is being rebuilt.
they wanted closure-
the once open room is now closed, it's been boarded, sheet rocked, and now cemented
i don't think i've ever seen who occupies that home-
i feel know something about their mentality by way of the added walls that they are showing me.
i wonder what they fear, or more what they don't want to see
they've added a brick wall and wrought iron gate in front of the door and traded a grass lawn for a convenient big driveway that has room for a 5x5 patch of green. they are changing some things- my reminder is the hammers hitting the side of the home

what do i want to know about you...
what do i want to ask...
what do i want to tell...
what do i want you to ask...
i never got to tell you about my story of when i learned to communicated and when i swore to never hold a thing in that bent me in some way-
i just told someone new the story last night and it just reinforced my love for david and the beauty that his crippled body radiated to me during those months.
someday i'll share it with you-

i want to know your scars-
i want to see the paths that lead to your heart that have started and then stopped every time something reminds you of something you'd rather forget-
i want to witness the moments where you second guess yourself
and your parents tell you need more-
i want to see the toughness in you that always makes me smile
because i know that not even you can be that strong,
crumble.
i want you to need to be held for a moment
when you just need someone else to hold you up and tell you it's gonna be allright.
i want in..
can you hear me?
i want in..
that may sound threatening...
i'm sure it sounds threatening-
i'm not trying to scare you or take something from you-

i just want sentences that complete the thought-i want you to keep looking at me instead of turning away when something comes up that you'd rather i didn't see.

the sound of the hammering sounds like native drumming,
tires to gravel roll away the rhythm,
birds ass the off tempo
and racing engines provide the hum..
the constant hum..

powderhorn terrace windows...

I am standing with you now
In your atmosphere
Watching
Feeling
Weeping
Because though I am there
I cannot reach out to you nor tell you that I’m there
You pace furiously as you feel the presence of something
Somewhere inside you-
You feel me
I know this
I don’t know how to convey my companionship with true lines
Of myself
You don’t want to see my face
You don’t want this invasiveness to prove real
I am on your mind
And that is where I want to be
You are on mine
And that is where you will live
From across the park
I see the lights of your apartment
I want to crawl in the window
And sit on the ledge of your consciousness
And repeat a million times
How sorry I am
And how I’m figuring things out on my own
The way I must have needed to
But that in all of it I’m loving you
And that love is growing stronger
More solidified each day-
I don’t expect that you’re happy or particularly eager for my return
But in the face of my mistakes I am waiting to come back
And make things right
Because yours dear is a kiss to build a dream on…..

burning mariposa...

She, a butterfly against the walls of my mind
Wings stretched to their fullest
Back towards me
Colors and hues I’ve never witnessed
Soft to the touch
Radiance that leaves a powdery residue once she’s in flight
She’s slow but her crooked direction makes her hard to catch
Graceful in her chaos
She’s within sight but her eyes are facing forward and she cannot see what is behind her;
Me.
I recreate my own form
changing as the shape of her takes on a new appearance
Love is like this
If her flight pattern is any indication of the rocky road ahead than she surely gave me an insight to life with her
Rumble tumble breathe and choke
I come up for air only to find I was never submerged
But the fluid of my thoughts and actions
Have slowly started to pull me under
To a place where lines are blurry

The temperature is always changing and the sun is mistaken for a …..
Description is useless as the ups and down are unpredictable
Years spent looking for a pattern proves futile as well
All is as all was
And I am deciding that those places were never as warm as they were cold
I am surrounded by love
That has always been my blessing
And I give it as much as I know how
But I know she’s thinking she wishes that I didn’t give it out the way I should give it to her
And her only-

letting go of leftover houses...

she sits in front of the fridge deciding on her meal-
oh yeah,
and for me too
she looks and decides which food best describes our lives-
"yeah the tofutti-
Meli-
that's for you.
and for me
yeah, it's the greek salad.
it has cucumber, feta cheese and red onion.."

we drove up and killed the lights
we sat in front of the lights and talked about the memories that were stored inside the blue house with the black shutters...
"that house- i used to sleep in, bec.
that lawn i know by heart
and remember ralph? i had a better looking lawn than him. I know him, my lawn was way better..
that porch,
that porch i used to come home from school or work and take a nap on.
i would ponder the world and wonder if it would end up being as beautiful and quiet as that view of the birch tree and the lawn in back.
i remember many games of football and lazy days of playing catch with my kid brother.."

she says "you know when you found a new best friend- i was demoted to the back seat. Because of darby, i was demoted to the back seat and you used to yell at me for being late for the car pool to school when you were still putting your makeup on while you were driving... you demoted me even though i had been the one who stayed up late talking in my parent's kitchen, feeding you all the m and m's you wanted.. and you let her sit in the damn front seat!"

i think of the pets that used to own the yard and the cat who begged for food.
i remember the walks through my back yard to your house, sneaking in though i knew where the key was. that key was always there for me to use..
I forget the memories until i'm with you and we're in the kitchen we've both known for years, with the food that was always there..

we perform this ritual every time we come home..
only now we think harder because we know the memories in this space are soon to be occupied by strangers and those moments will have to live inside of us...

My lock love...

the numbers on my watch are slowly moving-
the inevitable changing of days
my head is heavy
i just can't get enough of you lately
i'm resigned to this longing i'm feeling again
i'm fine with exercising the muscle of waiting..

in the darkness we are embracing
i can see the stars and moon through your hair-
your arms are
heavy around my body
you told me to remember this moment
and i told you i'd write about it..
i'm falling madly for you,
i say
trying to break through your stomach pains for a moment
I'm not yet used to the reminder that you live with.

You told me that this moment encompassed all that you felt for me;
being outside, under the open sky, the stars and the moon, holding me, with time not being a factor-
I got it- what you said in that moment
but then again I didn't..
I'm used to words spilling from my hearts heavy mantle for you
like-
you
are
wonderful,
you
are
strong,
i
love
you...

From you i get a mirage of images
sounds
and
expressions
that spell those words out more accurately-

yet my words are getting closer to falling from my lips
these words i'm feeling so strongly.
my creativity wanes
my long list of adjectives fails me
when i'm most desperate for them
I
love
you...
are the words that are filling my ears
i
love
you...
is all i can think of-

what is the question i'm asking myself about?
whether it's "responsible" to use those words.
since when did the strongest emotion between two people suddenly become words to
contemplate the logic of?
"is it 'responsible' to use those words?"
hell- it it "responsible" to act as if my heart isn't exploding over something wonderful?
i have never been one to hold down an emotion that moves me
and i won't start now-
withholding a love that is worthy of my full attention..

to a girl whose hair i can see the stars and moon through
whose eyes i see fire in
whose body i see grace in
whose smile i can see life in
whose heart melts my own
i love you...
in every way those three meaningful and meaningless words can occupy

My promise to you is this-
i will not speak those words
but will come up with every emotion
every insight
that you've given birth to in me
and express myself to you through them...

what i'm told...

the paper told me to own my fear
own it the way it has owned me
and cradle it
give it a name in capital letters
then take it apart
piece by piece
bit by bit
shred by shred
until it's impact on me is like a spec of dust-
then when i'm done
hang it's memory on my walls
in my car
in my mirror
so that when it comes back
i know who it is
what it looks like
where it came from
and keep it at bay
like water to oil
with the oil on my skin
keep it at bay
as the piece of art that i turned it into
one day at a time
throughout the years
until it becomes
nothing
but
little...

vertical catwalk with my aeriel artist

its my 8 yr anniversary of giving a big part of myself away to him
and I’m here now feeling like I’ve given too much of myself again-
parts that are more critical than a kidney- I have only one heart.
I spent the day reading one bad headline after another-having one distracted, disconnected conversation after another-

Watching my limp dog sleep the day away- in pain from the needles poking her yestereday that were somehow supposed to protect her from those illusive dog things.
Her solemn demeanor is a reflection of my running to and from this last week-
she is as tired as I should be-
from the volcanic eruption of emotion which has left me volatile and burning hot

I am hating this situation I’ve submerged myself into
It’s been 9 days of your name on my lips and the abrupt silence from you is so loud it’s all I can hear-
I spent 5 out of 7 days with you then nothing for 2 days

The silence is spent with you and him and your year and a half pre-existence before I sauntered into the room of your mind
I got too close-
I got too connected in those moments spent with you
I did exactly what I said I wouldn’t do.
Am I an ass for not knowing better?
No.
I am merely misunderstanding the scope in which you would enthrall me- entice me- wake me.

I’m wishing thoughts away
I’m erasing words just to get a better grip on this.
There is a derailment occurring here and everyone is a potential casualty of my love.

Girl number 1- sweet and somewhat available
Boy number 1- just the same- waiting for a sign from me and only getting something scattered and obscure
And you- Girl with no number who is the new one to me who’s got me tangled in a fury of need and desire

I cannot slip
I cannot do anything but wait-
A friend said I’ve got nothing to worry about- I’m the new woman on the side
The boyfriend is the one who has got to live with the new woman on the side of his lover
whose presumably been his and his only over the last year and a half.
I’m sitting pretty she thinks- and I have to remind myself of this

I just need the clarification I purposely wanted to avoid knowing about-
waiting in the back streets of this little heaven we’ve created makes me want to know more of what’s happening in your head so I can align myself with the right guards-
so I can keep myself in check.

But it doesn’t help that my little heart wants to fall in love-
With something beautiful
And the tragic potential here so suits me
But will I kill myself for your recognition
Will I step into the dubious waters that very well may leave me high and dry?

Time will tell
Because time always has a way of opening it’s big mouth and revealing the beautiful and sometimes ugly truth-
But I’m willing to see this go as far as it will-
Until another place calls you home…

strange undertones...

some would call her a good mother- she seemed present- she did the things the world tells mothers to do- her heavy dreams kept her down- her desire to be loved kept her inside a family that broke her down more and more-
loyalty she learned to define backwards kept her loving an emotionally absent husband- dinners made with love, presented in love, made in anger and emptiness, she sent herself away to repent for the things she did wrong-
to herself
her dreams
her daughter.

an absent mother and two sick sisters-a brother who taught her son how to be a monster-
she went away and lost more of herself than she had to start with-a broken woman of 54 who's given up on finding herself in the mirror-or anything that reflects her lack of self-
i have a feeling this is going to be the most important woman I never knew...

beads of words, necklace of letters...

j, kiss, embrace, words, darkness, anticipation, fear, want, confusion, sadness, k, anger, denial, again and again, smoke, distraction, d can make me feel good right now, distance, last night, good, bad, hard, women, drinks, dancing, numbers exchanged, past coming up, sore spots exposed,best friends, friendship, loyalty, not falling in love, promises to myself, or just false sense of comfort, longing, movie, anguish, untruth, lies, sin of omission, pills, lost dreams, mrs.dollaway.. telling her i wanted to hold her hand- her saying we should hold hands more, me smiling inside, me thinking it's more of an issue for me than it is for other people, feeling better, thinking about what it would be like to kiss her, the fear of actually doing it, knowing she has limited contact, hard to get to, i'm hard to reach, mom calling me sobbing, telling me how lonely she is- my emotions freezing up, that was the last night i felt emotions running through me, it's been a week, how many chances will i get, what is my hang up with taking chances, important chances, how do i identify important chances, being hard on myself, feeling scattered, fingers cut and bleeding, drumming, drinking, smoking, staying up late, maybe that's it, what's got me down,snow- real snow for the first time in a while, a walk in the park, hating the way i feel, helpless to my desires, wanting yet not asking, why, why, why-looking for a sign to move forward, waiting for a resolution to push me through again, knowing it will come, the right thing will come...

I'm thinking...

I speak to her about the entry level conversations we have- not just her and I
but the world around us-
and how important it is to be reminded of what living is..
I know it is so much more simple than we make it-
then I make it..

Life is more than the little dances we dance when trying to get someone's attention
It's more than then clever lines and cute shirts
More than the winks and secret smiles...

Dear Mama...

turning to her
wishing there was more to say
but i'm listening to this story about air rage and how they were looking for "tangye"
and she was telling them, "i am tangye!!! i am who you are looking for!!!"
somewhere in between the dramatic words i fell into some abyss where i just saw her lips moving but nothing was coming out that i could hear
i thought of what i would see when she was no longer who is she is right now-

would i notice the way her fingernails grow?
would i notice the new lines that are stretching across her face
telling me a story of a woman in battle?
who's been searching for the enemy in every face she encounters-
including mine.
what would i say to her if i knew she would hear but couldn't respond?
what will her mouth look like when she is just a body?
will the undertaker make her look the way i've seen her or the way that he saw her through an old picture from an old album?
how do i tell her across the lines of sanity that she's starting to cross more everyday
that i love her?
how have i managed for twenty-eight years to grow further from her rather than closer to her?

yet piece by piece i've tried to put her back together-
make some sense of a story that had a jump start but ended up somewhere in the gray by the time i got to it-
thinking of what she has become since i've known her-
gray facets of a life
white lines of a woman so lost.

who comes looking for the mothers that daughters have lost?
who comes searching for the daughters who become those mothers?
how could such a large number of voices go unheard?

i sit thinking why i know this woman
how could this possibly be the same person who raised me?
she didn't fail me
it started when someone failed her
a long list of women who went unheard but not untouched-
how do we continue to do this?

she came to me one night after hours of drinking and in the darkness told me
she felt like she was losing her grasp-
who was she to anyone?
her kids have grown up and a son who is now a father doesn't need a mother as much as a wife
and a daughter who loves women is replacing her with every new name
and a younger son who she knows she was too tired for
calls her not to speak as much as to preach about the ways he was done wrong and everyone is to blame for his actions and inactions.

she said she used to be the one we came to for the information about the world
but now
what has become of the world?
well,
she thinks that should be left up to my generation because we will be living with the repercussions the longest-
she says she feels a little useless having to depend on us for the information in a world we are all living in-

she thinks family reunions are a time to drink herself into oblivion-
sadly the most honesty and truth i've gotten from her has been in the those in-between moments of dizzy clarity
and sadly that is what i hate the most-
that liquid on her breath
but it is the only way she can make us kids again-
that's the only time when she doesn't feel like her place is disposable-
a lesson that so many mother's learned from being wives who were replaced two and three times over.

a mystery she will forever be to me-
this woman
and books tell me i am searching for her in every woman i love-
that
i don't fully comprehend-
it's meaning eludes me-
but for having someone around for twenty eight years- i don't know shit about her
yet she silently haunts me day in and day out-
the very existence of her makes me question whether i could put any child through it for me-
all the questions
all the careless words
al the anger and confusion.

time is running out and her breath is getting more shallow, her mind more chaotic-
i see her slipping yet i don't take the first step to break her fall this time
i just hope that she looks the same to me when she is just a body
a woman with a dream that she couldn't set free-

she's not angry with me
for looking past her for so long
it wasn't intentional id' tell her-
if only i could.
it was because i was afraid to learn that was in fact she was only human
so much less than what she was in my childhood eyes.

Dear Mama
i'm sorry i was no better than the out of touch husband or careless mother or ignorant neighbor-
i tried
but no one told me how to be more of your daughter
don't forget there was a whole other life that was waiting to live inside me-
one that was abandoned before you found me.

in a sense mama, we are both just spirits in this material world...

1.8.03

words comprised of letters...

water is wetter
cold is warmer
emptiness is bigger
or is it smaller
than the sum of mistakes i've been holding onto
few know what i hold against myself
fewer could place the truest reason-
wondering what late night dreams i'll spin in her head
perhaps she'll dream of me complete and full
like i was the day i was born
in another life-
to another set of never ending circumstances-
sometimes the loving i pay to lay
closes around me and reminds me that temporary stutters have been bubbling around me for decades
and that bittersweet memory of completeness comes with work that i haven't been doing much of lately-
to sail them away is to first build the boat that carries them away
the only explanation i need is to know that my hands are far too soft to build at this time-
first i must find water..
and the beginning of falling a part..
but as i go i remember falling a part is not bad because it signifies that i view some part of myself as together in some way , shape or form...

Vulnerable-juxtaposed- religions

there it was
there in front of me
my eyes wide like a child's
looking and seeing
something
that spoke to something deep inside me
something that only gets spoken to in the clearest of moments
something that only gets comprehended in the clearest of moments-

so here i am all cried out
searching for something to grab a hold of
someone once told me
i'd find my splintered parts coming together if i visited my birthplace-
someone else told me
home is where you are
that way you are never far from yourself-
i'm looking all around me
looking fro something that makes as much sense as that moment
a place of fire and drums

nothing around me makes the sense i want it to
it's all coded words that mean nothing that fill me with
nothing..

she said that creating creativity is being truly in the moment
being present at all the right times-
sitting here eating a cookie with orange sprinkles on it
seems like some sort of metaphor to the way i've been mostly, up till today-

my mother called me last night
with that loneliness in the back of her voice
i couldn't talk to her
but the sound in her voice haunted my company all night
i woke today thinking of what it is she is paying for in her minutes that are spent in silence-
something big
I figured
someone was really hurt and she's paying dearly for it now-
a spark of anger crossed my heart and i heard her telling me things that she had no
business saying..

as i stretched out
i waited for a solid reason why i can't speak up when i hear that loneliness creeping out of her words over the phone
answering myself
why i turn off when i sense the doom-
then i remembered who the emotional reparations were for-
someone named me..

I walk to the market and speak a little spanish to the people who represent the bigger picture of what i could be-
wondering why i always feel so small when i walk away from them
wondering if they feel the void i'm carrying around in my pocket-
she told me to keep trying in my own way
because there are more out there just like me-
i stop when i'm feeling broken and think about the fire and the drums
and i wonder if i didn't let myself go completely by crying the way I wanted to so badly-
prepping some sort of woman in my head to carry the weight of a thousand sorrows on her back all over again-
when it stops i'm gonna put all the bags down
cause my eyes can see the brighter day ahead
I just keep holding my heart out whenever i think i've found the right spaces to fill it with
but somehow the space is empty before long and i'm out looking again..

how much can i let go so i can live every moment in and of itself
how can i be conscious of myself more
deciding that while i was born with my eyes wide open
i've been slowly closing them every since-
along with the millions of restless souls around me called brothers and sisters-
repenting now for the careless ways i've been treating my spirit lately-
feeding it evilness- cigarettes and drinks that time after time drag me down-
Frozen in my expanse of mistakes i pick up every wrongdoing and try to realize how it's bad for me-
while i'm thinking clearer i'm feeling the wild hope i've got racing around my head.

i'm secretly looking for the complete me
for once i'm not looking for someone else- that will only confuse me more-
so much more could i be confused i know
i'm just trying to hold onto his hand as he raised mine to his head in thanks
i just wanted to hold him and feel the spirit he held-
the rhythm he felt in the drum
the unthreatening warmth he felt as he put his entire body in the flame-

why is that the unseen fires are the hardest to put out and are more visible then an actual flame...

10.21.02

For her...

looking,
but mostly feeling where i am right now
I've crossed a million landscapes in my mind and i'm on my way home-
wanting to rest,
fall into the deepest of sleep and
dream of better things-
Questioning all the angels that have shown me what it is to be real
asking them if i have all that i need to do this-
breaking through ground that i've been over a million times before
only comprehending the miles i've put on my shoes-
looking down at them now i realize that they are not as worn as my heart
that i have been carrying around all this time-

What will i find in this down time?
When will i get past the point of wanting a distraction so badly?
When will i feel the sun that i saw setting in the west- far too soon?
When will the road have more landscape than concrete and dirt?
When will i get the courage to dig deeper in that dirt and find my way back?
Find my way through the fasting i'm doing of love
I never intended to be alone at this point
I guess i never really thought about what it means-
pointing fingers has only gotten me so far
now i'm pointing at myself and no one's arguing
the silence is numbing-

All this time the river of my life has flowed endlessly
with sand dunes to bank upon for years at a time
the same to cover me from the cold winter blowing-
now i'm on an island wondering what i've done all this time
looking for a boat to dock and pick me up
but
nothing's in sight as far as i can see-

Fear comes then subsides-
and the sun rises and then the gods fall asleep
never giving me a clue or even a direction-
one by one i sift through all the possibilities-
what has been
and
what can be
in me

I've stolen a thousand kisses from beautiful women that cover the earth over
only to return to the field that i was born to-
no closer to finding my way through
somewhere through all this time i thought of all the lies and barbed wire fences i've put around my heart-
there have been years that even i couldn't get through to the secrets that i hold so tightly
I've worked to break them open with rocks that have turned to sand-
finding the small of my emotion
carved so delicately in my beating heart

Looking to the stars that give themselves a place night after night
picking one for me and all the people i've ever been
waiting for the one that is me in present
is it the brightest one of them all or is the one that shoots before my eyes only to be lost in the darkness?
I know my place is not so complex to the master of disguise who offers me masks time and time again-
she tells me she'll dance with me no matter who i claim to be when i'm alone-
what is most unsettling i ask myself as i climb
is it the words i've heard
or is the words i've stopped myself from saying?
when it's only me who hears the freedom i hold when i'm riding in the wind-
when i'm laughing out loud at no one but me
when i'm crying for the child who was lost and then never found
I claim a truth
that is mine
and mine alone
something the anguish of dueling mothers and fathers can never claim
something my angels have told me only i possess-
a place where no one has been lost or found-

in my head i look for distraction
something to interrupt the absence
that only someone i don't remember can fill-

so when i cry in the dark at emotions that someone else reminds me of
don't think i'm here in the moment with you-
and when i fall away to the silence and murmuring that my ears have created for me
don't think i'm there in the moment with you-
I'm far off in my head trying to make sense of this sadness that plagues me-
distraction is what makes me human to you
but if i ever lose my faith
if i ever lose my faith in me
then my light will go out
and i won't ever come back to the moment we were sharing-

in the midst of confusion
i know that there will be a time when i'm not stuck at a fortress of solitude
i will come out and play with you
i will come out and laugh at all the faces i've seen myself behind-
If i know one thing before you
it is this-
it is my knowledge of
how fragile we are-
my grace
my angel

I know these things to be true
and i know that someday i will not beg for distraction
and i will not beg myself for air time alone-

One day at a time
my spirit moves away the stones that hinder my view of all the beauty i possess
and for all my days remaining i pay tribute to the mother who colored me from clear to brown
and to the father i never thought existed in the making of me
he will rise and give back my sky of gray to blue-
and to the one who raised me they will feel the love that i tried to save for the invisible ghosts who left me and told me to by myself no matter what the world says-
i have everything that i need to fill the sand dunes of time-
to shade me from the cold winds
to carry me across the waters to the ship at port-
to claim my star
and to cut the barbed wire fortress
and fill empty arms that once held me-
and fix my need for distraction-

I have it all and i have it all in me...

10.14.02

brown girl, tell me...

Music plays all around me
I am caught up
I am inside the rhythms you call sex
Tell me how it means nothing
and then something
depending on the atmosphere
and the company-

I'm holding onto you as you fall out of sight
searching somewhere deeper into me
looking for the seed of what makes me what i am
searching for something you can grab a hold of and keep for your own-

Jaded by the world
You search in warm spaces reserved for lovers
For what you'll become-
Listening to the rhythm of the breathing searching for your own rhythm
Making what you see
and taking what you get
back to the place reserved for no one but you-
don't be afraid to cry about the idea of what you're looking for-

I fall asleep and you stay awake
to study-
study what you're about
inside the flesh and bone
that comprises the sea
that is so stormy-
so stormy.
I wake to find your eyes
never closed
Still consumed with what is on your skin
my smells
our sounds
your touch
Looking for the spark that settles my confusion

Do you ask
or just assume
of me
On me
you hold what i give
withholding the contact that will make us equal
give me something to understand
shake my hand and give back what you hold-
then again the source is never as pure as the original
that 's what you say-
somehow thinking i can decipher the words inside the words
i only know that it isn't as difficult as the times before-
Perhaps it's getting easier with age
you just know things come so that they can go-
A sort of misled cycle of life...



I'm telling you, brown girl

All i know is that parts of me have never left
and those are the parts that i hold on to-
My face-
and my hands
Well, they've changed through the weathering life
and my heart-
well
it has gotten stronger despite the forces that try to make it weaker
and my spirit-
well it has only grown bigger to fit all the beauty that i've witnessed
while my rhythm ever-changing is getting louder
my comprehension of the broken rhythm
has only become more proficient in hearing the in-between
as i reflect on all the moments that shape me-

so looking in on this current purge-
i don't mind that it's taking the time of it's own to complete
because i'm learning more about the place inside me that only i belong
and that is something i will never have to eliminate...