reading poems by the dead

Now
reading poems by the dead
the land they have gone to
no longer distant and foreign
but maybe an airplane or car ride away
or even just down the street
around the corner
over the hill.
Now the dead are under my feet
all around me
inside my head
folded into the flesh our hearts.
The dead are In another reality,
just inches away
where we will all be together again.

our wings unfurl

We are wild 

domesticated animals

today I send out a wish

that we each let our lights shine

our wings unfurl

our hearts open

forget the rules that got us here

ask, beg, yell for what you need

give, throw, plaster the world with 

your love

give every last drop of blood

give every last drop of blood
reveal every smile

release every tear

let your shrieks of rebellion echo across the hills

scale, climb the walls of houses like squirrels

dance like their tails 

floating behind

leap into beauty

let the night of forgetting 

lay behind on your unmade bed

forgotten

darknesses garden

Mother darkness
and her nothingness
feeds no poem.
she lets go of all love.
she drops you over and over
whether you grasp or cling or release

She shatters
or rots
every precious thing.

And even if you offer yourself, chest open, arms flung wide
facing it all.
Surrendering. accepting.
she simply takes from others as well.

she does not care if we jump or fall
fight or let go

meaninglessness, violence, weapons of war, revenge,
her tools

And while we are alive and in love
we think pain is hers as well
but really
it is just one
of the pretty flowers of her garden
that we do not understand.

The risks of wild things

So you fell in love
With my wild heart
that floods
It's banks
That over flows
With love un-contained
with all the risks, beauty
And dangers of wild things
There is no safe place.
But if you let yourself be swept away
I promise you
A ride
Scarier and more glorious than any you have ever know
Be ready
to hold your breath
Let the waves wash over you
I'll carry you off
To lands unknown
To the deepest velvet lakes
The sun drenched fields 
with bird songs
And the deepest tangled jungles
I'll fill your mouth
I'll wash over you
Paint your body with silty mud
And then lick every inch of you clean again
And in the end 
I'll place you on a sandy beach
Dead or born again
Naked, at peace
Knowing that you
Are the most sacred thing
Created
from the bones of the earth
And the sparks
of stars. 

The War

The war was over 

my body 

the land between my legs

the resources in my heart

considered finite.

But we were confused 

because you can not keep me

I will die  

and my body will go back to our mother

she is the only one

who can claim me

my body is not mine or yours

it is the earths

every secret of the soil 

in the curves 

the openings 

to the universe

hidden in the dark spots

and you can dive into truth 

with violence or love

violate each secret

or bow to wonder

Seeds are planted from pain and rape 

and from the most tender hand.

but the love of the sun will last forever

and for now 

I can give it to you

flock of poems; from May 2014

I
you never know when a storm of poetry might hit you
after 20 years
after too busy to brush my teeth
baby to nurse, cab to wake up for
in the dark
early morning ride to work
pumping milk behind the walk in cooler
eat sweet-cream butter and fresh squeezed orange juice
serve men from tyson chicken and
haliburton and the not so famous rich
take home flowers they leave,
maybe not even really seen.
so many flowers I let you tear the roses apart
on our black and white kitchen floor
while I cook dinner
and now all these years later
I can taste the moment
every glorious rich color
the feel of the floor under my feet,
the joy of seeing your beauty ringed in mosaic of petals

Now, not too busy to morn that no one else was there
to catch their breath with me
now not to busy to celebrate
to dance with it again on paper and share it.

II
Now I am not going to write advice
anymore
I am only going to fling poetry
like a child having a temper-tantrum
I am going to stop at the busy entrance of whole foods
and do nothing
just sit down on the floor and make everyone step over me.
or at least go around me
glancing back, they might
wonder
for a moment.
I am going to cry in the open
to scream and shout
beauty, love, us, everything!
I will kiss clichés and eat mixed metaphors
I will roll in corny, blacken in a tooth,
write “nigger”
stab myself with fear
God dam mother fucking shit.
I am alive, alive, alive.
I am no longer begging
or hopping
asking or telling.
I am wailing in pain
I am singing for joy,
and love.
and I am not scared of you
or pain
or rotting
under the ground.

III
first it was a trickle of poems
fresh,
quenching where the water had not run in years.
soon it was a storm of poems
a wild rush
waking me up in the night
banging on the windows

then it was a flock
swooping gracefully gathering around, bearing gifts
awe inspiring with intricate feathers and glowing wings.

then it was a swarm of poems
hitting me in the face
pestering me
if I opened my mouth they got stuck in my teeth and flew down my throat

and then almost as suddenly as they arrived
they floated up
past the yellow willow
into the sky
and landed on the great clouds
they told me,
and my eyes and my heart
and my tongue
“we are here,

we will always be here”

exhale

As the dust was settling
And my head was turning
my body inhaled you
And a million truths exploded in my blood.
A thousand poems filled my chest.
Everything stopped 
And everything moved.
I wanted to scream in rage that I never found you until now.
I wanted to cry in joy that everything is perfect
Everything hurts
Everything floats.
And for one breath I could only inhale.
Could only inhale
Until 
The ocean rolled over me black and terrible, and bright and wonderful. 
and I rolled and melted and then
I could only exhale
I could only exhale

Into
You

angle dying

You. Wondering through
this big world
crawling through the channels
Ducking between the threads

Roll over 
and slip your tongue on mine
Breathe in my breath
And rest
all the endless patterns will swirl over our heads
And I will kiss your every color spectrum shade
Light on your body
With my finger tips
Dash to shush your unneeded words with my lips
Wanting only to kiss you again
So slowly an angle could die in slow motion
Beside us
Drifting, falling
And without knowing
My hand would float up and meet her
And lower 
her spirit to the ground
Because 
every dance has its reason.

Exploding Species

We are made
from exploding stars
but maybe now it is our time
to fly apart
everything that attracts
repels.
Now is our time to explode
collapsing into ourselves, super nova red dwarf,
burning open our chests
flinging our hopes and revenge and music
bits of our flesh and dreams into the sky
bricks sailing through molecules of air
and our father sun
can relate, knows how it feels
our flood of pain and poems flowing like lava through the streets
down into the riverbeds
across the deserts

dreams are hard to kill

Dreams are hard kill

they are not brittle 

they bend when you hit them 

they melt away when you try to chop them

evaporate in the sunlight

and then form again 

like clouds in the sky 

dancing over your head 

teasing you because you are powerless

they can take your breath away 

hit you with force winds

and you can’t fight back.

Turn your head away the wind is still there.

hide inside, 

they can rip the siding off your house.  

Yew Berries

I

Today
my life is filled with love
with beauty
every cell in my body smiles
with the sun and the answered prayers

and the reply is to write poems of love
to let my heart sing
to let my arms dance
to let the music fill me
the beauty is so huge
it can not sit still in my chest
and all the people i have ever loved
who are not here
who are gone, who got away
are here
dancing in the sunlight with me
dancing to the music with me

And for all the souls
in pain
in mourning and shock
I dance
for you too
I will rejoice in this body, in this moment
until my last breath
in honor of you.

I eat
the yew berries off the tree
glowing jewel red
tasting the sweet flesh
spitting out the poisonous seeds
letting them fly from my mouth

II

Infected by this terminal life
the wind blows
the candles out
the lightning strikes
and sets new fires
and you fall away
fall off the edge
and others land
fill
grow
and stub their toes
and then grow more
then fall away
and we mourn and scream
and the storm rages over us
rips us back into
the earth dark earth
the heart of the volcano
and then the sun shines again
and we spread our wings to dry
we dance in the air
flying like golden leaves
drifting out of control
towards the ground.

because

I 

I have silently walked and seen what the world would be like without me

I have been a ghost 

I saw Susan alone

not talking to me

because i was not there

I have seen the circle where I could have been

still whole but a petal missing

I see the world now without you, and no one knows. 

there is no space 

no puzzle piece missing

it has been filled

with raging green leaves and 

wild loneliness

it has been filled with every gift life has to offer

soft kisses,
frosted cake, skinned knees
cement buildings
boarders, sweating and waiting
and knowing
of the bullets that fly through walls
and flesh

II

Because the earth loves your shit

God loves death 

life likes violence

and violence loves you

because every part of you

is made from exploding stars

The energy of the sun flies out 

of your mouth with every word,

kind or curse 

Every part of your body is sacred

every fold and crease 

every sign and moan

because worms love things that rot

mold has a party on your crust of bread

because pee makes your garden green and 

rotten tomatoes plant seeds

that grow 

when the soil warms
because old cars and sheets of metal left in the woods rust

back into the soil

because our first living relation was bacteria 

because mosquitoes suck my blood

and I kill them on your forehead

because my arms long to hold you when you cry

My voice longs to wail with yours

because to feel is to know

because describing the world sounds like a metaphor 

but it is not.  

Letter to myself

I posted this poem on face book a few days ago and got a lot of responses and comments of support, relating and encouragement both on the page and as I ran into people in my life.  Again and again I am surprised by how sharing pain leads to deep connection.

late night early morning writing;

A letter to myself and anyone reading this
A prayer
When I wake up like this 
In the middle of the night
With loathing and self doubt
Afraid

When fear takes over that I have no savings. Retirement, IRA
May I remember that I don’t believe in perpetual growth and hoarding and interests on the backs of others labor.

When I judge my lack of success and accomplishment, may I respect
The times I was there
To hug my sister
To clean up the vomit and diarrhea from the bath room walls and floor
of a sick friend
To cook
Healthy food
To play with children
My own
And strangers
To look at the worms they showed me
And to marvel at the wonders of dirt and the sweetness of tomatoes
The treasure of potatoes.

When I judge the wasted hours
May I remember the joy of dancing
The radiance of painting with orange
The sunflower seeds
And the dog petted
The comfort needed
The rest and recovery

When I see all the choices I made
That lead us here
Floating, isolated, separate
The choices we didn’t understand
The ones I don’t want to sing about,

When I hide my flaws
Judge you
Your use of drugs

May I see again with eyes of compassion
The pain we felt
That sent us down these paths
And as we climb on the road
The dirt clay road
With clumps and holes, rocks
May we walk, may we climb
Together
Back up to truth?
Back down to connection?

Oh sing and cry with me now
For we are so beautiful
And injured

I long so much to only love you
And I am so full of fear

I am here only to live
And die

May I feel safe in the face of imminent doom
Oh dark mother
Wise father
As I slither through this tangled life
Spaghetti clump worm pile
Of glory and rightness
Pain and doubt

Mother hold me,
hold me tight and long.

Father tell me
Tell me
It will all be all right.

A few tips from my summer kitchen

I thought i would share some of the neat homemaking things I have adopted over the years that I do in July and August.

Water melon smoothy!  Freeze water melon and then blend it up with what ever kind of milk you like.  I add a little half and half and rose water or lavender water that I buy form the   A wonderful warm weather treat.   I buy my flower water at Shiraz on Oakland.  

Eat you weeds!  
I repeat eat you weeds they are so GOOD for you and take no effort to grow!  They plant themselves!  If you garden than most of you have the best greens growing in your garden already. I go to my local community gardens and glean the unwanted food there.  I put likes below so you can find out more about them and look up how to identify them.  My three favorites are:

Purslane.  
High in omaga 3's !  Purslane is a relative low growing plant that loves the hot months of summer. I let it act as a ground cover for any empty spots i have in our garden.
I saute it, eat it freash in salads or alon with vinegar and oil on it or use it i might any green with eggs, in soups etc.

Chickweed. 
Another "weed" that acts as a good ground cover, it can get a bit carried away when it has enough moister but it is so easy to weed up i never consider it a problem.  I eat it in salads and sauteed mixed with my other morning greens. 

Lambs Quarters. 
I use LQ  as I would kale or spinach. My favorite is to make garlic oil.  Steam the Lambs quarters and then add fresh anise hyssops, basil and soy sauce to creates a great Tia flavor. 

Mint Vinegar.  
Now is a great time to pick a bunch of that mint that is taking over and stuff it in some vinegar.  I use mostly in marinades. use the meat in Chicken fajitas, yum!

Thoughts on relationships and our rat cages.

        

I sent out an email a few weeks ago and thought i would post it here.  It doesn't have any of the hyper links right now.  Happy Summer, Friends, Family, Neighbors and Pink House Community!         I am going to try making our monthly update emails more of a news letter, including some of my own writing and some of our teachers and guests, as well as a few tips or ideas from my home and kitchen. I don't have a name for it yet for this new "new letter" so if you have an idea I would love to hear it. :)  This month I have put together some of my thoughts on my eclectic home and work, our eclectic studio and creating healthy community.        I know a few of you have seen my house, but for those of you haven't, I want to describe it for you. All of our tables and desks are low, 8-16 inches form the floor.  Above our futon on the floor in the living room we have a " yoga swing," which is basically a nice soft hammock hung in a narrow drape.  Last year I added a set of gymnastic rings that the kids love to play and swing on.  I did all this in a effort to keep my own body nimble and strong, to help support my partner Chuck in healing his body and supporting my children in keeping the youthful strength and flexibility.  I often joke when new friends come over about making our home a really engaging "gerbil cage.         A few weeks ago I listened to a wonderful T.E.D. talk by Johann Hari and called "Everything you think about addiction is wrong." In the talk Hari tells us that our model of addiction was based on studies of rats that were alone in cages with little to interact with. These rats, when given the option of water with and with out heroine, would kill themselves by over dosing on the water that had the drug in it. However he says that's that rats in engaging cages or "rat parks" with other rats and lots of toys and challenges to play with when given the same choice of waters will choose the plan water and not become "addicted." He suggest that we need to rethink our whole approach to addiction. He ends his talk by saying that the opposite of addiction is connection.        When I was at Teaching Drum, the nature immersion experience I went to for 11 months the school guides often talked about relationship. They referred to a native American practice of talking about all the other creatures, plants and minerals we share this earth with as our relations.  They suggested not "studying" plants but creating relationship them. Using them, interacting with them.  I understood in relation to my own spiritual beliefs that we are made from the same stardust with the same gift of life energy and creation throbbing through us.  But I think I mostly pictured this relationship to natural and organic forms.  After listening to this talk I had another "aha moment."  We have relationships with Everything.  We have relationships with ourselves, other people, with nature and with everything we create; books, media, drugs… Every relationship triggers reactions in us.  Some of these reactions feel good, others don't.  We stick with the relationships we know and feel comfortable with and that meet our needs.  When I think of my home that means that I have been setting up an environment that increases our relationship with our bodies and our physical world and so that is why it feels healthy and good.          When I work with people with clutter, my clients have relationships with things or paper that don't feel healthy for them.  Often we think of these relationships as getting in the way of creating a healthier life style. And they do, but perhaps they are filling a void and creating new relationships to fill that void is what we need to do first. If we think that we have relationships to everything that we can see that even our relationships that we find challenging or that don't feel healthy are there for a reason.  Most of us cannot "let go" of these relationships unless we have other relationships to replace them with.  The rat in the "rat park" has the relationships she needs does not choose the drugs.  The ones that are alone do. They "need" the drug because they have the void.  Thinking about this more I came to see I even have relationships to my thoughts.  I become "attached" to them.  They take up space, give my life meaning.  I also came even more to appreciate my growing relationship to manta.  Mantra is consciously is giving energy, or rather growing my relationship, to thoughts that I choose.    This all helps me feel good about my crazy, wild, messy home, and motivates me in my work with the pink house, as a mover, artist, yoga teacher, doula, and as a gardener and promoter of fruit trees.  I can choose to feed real relationships with others.  I can choose to create relationships with accepting, empowering, positive and proactive thoughts.  I can choose to give and receive even more.  Then I can continue giving up the unhealthy patterns I have and help those around me do the same.   As I finish writing this the Riverwest 24 bike raceweekend has just ended and I feel filled with love for my neighborhood and even more connected to how powerful we are as individuals and as community can be.  (If you don't know about the race, click the link, it is wonderful, I hope to write more about it sometime soon)  Lets all keep working to make our own lives and our whole communities the best "rat parks" we can!       Sending love and blessings,  Sarah  dancingwitheverything.com As I