This is a poem for love
for the power
of words
This is a poem for you
beautiful horse on the side of the road
eyes are as big as the moon
that I slid by for one brief moment
and we saw each other
who I will never see again
you who are loved by someone else
a person I have never met
you eating grass
now
in a field I will never walk across
This is a poem for all the people I smile at who look at me blankly
maybe just in to much pain or fear to even see me longing to share with them
maybe wondering why I love them for that moment at all
or knowing that i don't really
and that I will walk on
and forget them.
This is a poem for you
for all the love I would smear on your skin
how I would slam my heart into yours
smash myself into your everything
and then after kissing you
lay at your feet refreshed
washed
curled in my pain
in our beauty
longing to go back to our mother earth
and fearing nothing more
This is a poem about how sunlight love strands tangle in my heart spreading out flailing floating from my body into the air around me
up into the clouds and dark star light
raining back
dripping into empty fields
missing lonely hearts
filling puddles
resting on the tops of the trees
This is a poem for all the people i don't know
a billion leaves shaking in the wind, glittering
the grains of sand deep under the beach,
below my feet as i walk
that i will never touch or see or know
This is a poem for
you
dying
now
for the bodies being washed with love
being zipped into plastic bags and being taken away
by workers who take away bodies every day
being lowered into the ground,
covered by earth
This is a poem for the dead cats
on the side of the road
and the people who don't know your dead
who will never stroke on your tense warm bodies again
but will pet another's
This is a poem for those of us just glad to get through this day
and the dark of last night.
and for those
who have already
let go.
Friday, October 14, 2016
Thursday, September 22, 2016
You will be gone
You will be gone.
In all likely hood
there will not even be a street named after you
and even if there is, it too will crumble one day, the sign will break and no one will care.
Your cells will be in the soil
and the rain
perhaps the river of your life will be flowing through the veins of your descendants
but you, you will be gone
forgotten
beyond the knowledge of dirt and rain.
The curly hair of your beard will have rotted away.
No one will remember the way your hand moved in the air as you gestured
or the lilt of your voice,
the scowl you made after you bashed your thumb with a hammer
hopping on one foot in sympathy
then flicking your wrist.
No one will hear you sing your song again
You will never moan again, salaciously licking the creases of another body.
No one will hug you
or yell at you.
Your house will never fall apart again.
No one will knock on your door.
Soon, perhaps as soon as you blink your eye
you will be gone
melted back
into everything.
In all likely hood
there will not even be a street named after you
and even if there is, it too will crumble one day, the sign will break and no one will care.
Your cells will be in the soil
and the rain
perhaps the river of your life will be flowing through the veins of your descendants
but you, you will be gone
forgotten
beyond the knowledge of dirt and rain.
The curly hair of your beard will have rotted away.
No one will remember the way your hand moved in the air as you gestured
or the lilt of your voice,
the scowl you made after you bashed your thumb with a hammer
hopping on one foot in sympathy
then flicking your wrist.
No one will hear you sing your song again
You will never moan again, salaciously licking the creases of another body.
No one will hug you
or yell at you.
Your house will never fall apart again.
No one will knock on your door.
Soon, perhaps as soon as you blink your eye
you will be gone
melted back
into everything.
Saturday, September 3, 2016
Some days the dance is beautiful
some days it is bitter sweet
or full of pain and being alive
somedays the dance of all of us is so full
reasons to fight and fling and move forward
things to push against
and celebrate
try
But some days the long dance
is just long
and for a few minuets you just want to sit down
and rest
but still the laundry needs to be hung.
All we all want
is to be seen
and loved
to connect
See me sunshine
see me leaves
hear me cicada far away in your tree
I am here
so full of longing still
so full of sadness too
for all that is alive
and all that is dying
all the hope that is not in me
or others
for our long dance of meaningless life
some days it is bitter sweet
or full of pain and being alive
somedays the dance of all of us is so full
reasons to fight and fling and move forward
things to push against
and celebrate
try
But some days the long dance
is just long
and for a few minuets you just want to sit down
and rest
but still the laundry needs to be hung.
All we all want
is to be seen
and loved
to connect
See me sunshine
see me leaves
hear me cicada far away in your tree
I am here
so full of longing still
so full of sadness too
for all that is alive
and all that is dying
all the hope that is not in me
or others
for our long dance of meaningless life
Wednesday, August 24, 2016
We do not need to learn to sing or dance
We do not need to learn to sing or dance. We do not need to learn to move or make music. We just need to move, to let our bodies do what they want, to let ourselves experience music and sound and space and react as we want. The only thing most of us need to do is UNLEARN holding ourselves back. To UNLEARN the lies that we are not good enough. To Unlearn that our bodies are flawed. We were born sacred and have everything we need within ourselves.
Thursday, July 14, 2016
A prayer to my Brown Mother
I know many of you
prey to a "God"
and I hear you say "he"
I see the prophets
painted as a white man.
I hear you say you put your trust in "him"
Many of you are kind and good, full of love.
But I myself
I am going to worship my Mother.
My Mother Earth
and she is old and graggy
and grey
and brown.
She does wears dresses
of green or white
she loves red and purple polka dots
She is wrapped in mysterious flowing blue.
But for me
her body is mostly brown.
Beautiful
run my fingers through your soil
brown.
Beautiful I can lay my back upon you
and you will never disappear brown.
Beautiful
rich offering giving
ready, steady, brown.
And like any child I am of her.
I am her again, young and new and fleeting
and different
She loves everything about me
my skin and hair, my bones and blood.
She has no shame of my body
she loves my breasts
and folds
she would have me hide nothing
if I wish
she cares not what mistakes I make
at times she spoils me
she knows I will die but she gives everything she can
She is a busy mother, so she does not spoil me too much, she has many to feed.
and at times she has little to give
but still holds me close.
I know that I owe my life to the Sun
and his energy
I know he pays the energy bill every day
works to build and warm the house
But he comes and goes.
I know without his sperm
I would not be here
his gift of life.
And I will bow down in gratitude before him.
I dance with the glorious love he shines on me.
But my bones are made from my Mother Earth
She raised me
hugs me everyday
she makes do with whatever is given
never complains, does her best
feeds me, cloths me, loves me.
To be truthful
I bristle when you call your God a he
When I see a video of a white man trusted with a gun
but a black man ordered to the ground
The question is why do we trust the white man over the brown?
Why do you put all your trust in the wealthy white mans God?
made in his image?
his understanding that God is not his flesh, blood, breath, shit and bones?
Every mother knows poop comes with new life,
It was the old rich white man who imagined God as only clean and bright, strong and perfect,
someone else emptied his chamber pot.
Old momma know that if you empty the camber pot in the garden the tree you plant there later will make the most fruit.
Do you want a god that is far from you? floats away from you?
that is not in you all the time?
that is better than you?
I know we all long for his love, but like an older woman talking to her daughter now, I remind you, love yourself first, then love him. Love your Earth Body first. He may come and go, there maybe others, but you will always have yourself. What good are you without loving your body first? Put your own air mask on then help others.
And if I ripe off my shirt
stand before you
a woman topless
what would you think?
Would you look at me strangely?
tell me that is not respectful but you would let a man do it?
Then you have swallowed
the lie of the white father.
If you see the tan lines on my body
and do not see that they are the first chains we accept
that my breast must be covered while a mans are not
than you do not see the first oppression
the oppression from which all the rest are based
in order to protect us from his lust
that it is ok to build a fence and keep others from drinking from the stream.
that is is ok to own while others are homeless.
I am brave,
free and wild
I am not scared of the suns lust
or love
nor a mans
I will let the whole of my skin shine.
But I am weak,
I am a civilized pet
breed to submit, to live by the lie that I and others can own
our Mother
the riches of our Father.
I see the house I live in and believe I own it
and the land under it,
I have bought the lie too.
We might as well try to give the oceans and clouds away
to our white male God too.
oh but you already have in your preyers,
when we prey to "Him" our great father.
when we are told to trust him and his son, his servants more than any of his other children.
I maybe weak, but I will not prey to the lie.
Maybe today will be the day
that we all throw off our cloths, and chains
and the lie that a woman's body should be covered
that a white man be trusted more than any other
and a brown mother body be in labor without thanks.
Maybe today is the day we tell our white light father we are grateful
but we remember we must also always thank our brown mother, our earth body soul.
Maybe today is the day that see how brown and beautifully and earthy we are
The day we throw out the blue plastic antiperspirant tube, the bug poison and weed killer
The day we eat straight from the garden
invite anyone hungry into our homes
wrap anyone crying into our arms
lay our bodies down in front of all risk to show our brothers and sisters
the same love our parents showed us.
Trusting,
knowing
that we will go back
always
to the arms of our Big Brown Mother.
prey to a "God"
and I hear you say "he"
I see the prophets
painted as a white man.
I hear you say you put your trust in "him"
Many of you are kind and good, full of love.
But I myself
I am going to worship my Mother.
My Mother Earth
and she is old and graggy
and grey
and brown.
She does wears dresses
of green or white
she loves red and purple polka dots
She is wrapped in mysterious flowing blue.
But for me
her body is mostly brown.
Beautiful
run my fingers through your soil
brown.
Beautiful I can lay my back upon you
and you will never disappear brown.
Beautiful
rich offering giving
ready, steady, brown.
And like any child I am of her.
I am her again, young and new and fleeting
and different
She loves everything about me
my skin and hair, my bones and blood.
She has no shame of my body
she loves my breasts
and folds
she would have me hide nothing
if I wish
she cares not what mistakes I make
at times she spoils me
she knows I will die but she gives everything she can
She is a busy mother, so she does not spoil me too much, she has many to feed.
and at times she has little to give
but still holds me close.
I know that I owe my life to the Sun
and his energy
I know he pays the energy bill every day
works to build and warm the house
But he comes and goes.
I know without his sperm
I would not be here
his gift of life.
And I will bow down in gratitude before him.
I dance with the glorious love he shines on me.
But my bones are made from my Mother Earth
She raised me
hugs me everyday
she makes do with whatever is given
never complains, does her best
feeds me, cloths me, loves me.
To be truthful
I bristle when you call your God a he
When I see a video of a white man trusted with a gun
but a black man ordered to the ground
The question is why do we trust the white man over the brown?
Why do you put all your trust in the wealthy white mans God?
made in his image?
his understanding that God is not his flesh, blood, breath, shit and bones?
Every mother knows poop comes with new life,
It was the old rich white man who imagined God as only clean and bright, strong and perfect,
someone else emptied his chamber pot.
Old momma know that if you empty the camber pot in the garden the tree you plant there later will make the most fruit.
Do you want a god that is far from you? floats away from you?
that is not in you all the time?
that is better than you?
I know we all long for his love, but like an older woman talking to her daughter now, I remind you, love yourself first, then love him. Love your Earth Body first. He may come and go, there maybe others, but you will always have yourself. What good are you without loving your body first? Put your own air mask on then help others.
And if I ripe off my shirt
stand before you
a woman topless
what would you think?
Would you look at me strangely?
tell me that is not respectful but you would let a man do it?
Then you have swallowed
the lie of the white father.
If you see the tan lines on my body
and do not see that they are the first chains we accept
that my breast must be covered while a mans are not
than you do not see the first oppression
the oppression from which all the rest are based
That a woman's body can be owned,
possessed by others than the who's spirit it houses.
The first lie that the land of our Mother Earth can be hoarded.
You have bought the shame they have spent centuries passing on to our bodies
the lie that it is ok to cover us upin order to protect us from his lust
that it is ok to build a fence and keep others from drinking from the stream.
that is is ok to own while others are homeless.
I am brave,
free and wild
I am not scared of the suns lust
or love
nor a mans
I will let the whole of my skin shine.
But I am weak,
I am a civilized pet
breed to submit, to live by the lie that I and others can own
our Mother
the riches of our Father.
I see the house I live in and believe I own it
and the land under it,
I have bought the lie too.
We might as well try to give the oceans and clouds away
to our white male God too.
oh but you already have in your preyers,
when we prey to "Him" our great father.
when we are told to trust him and his son, his servants more than any of his other children.
I maybe weak, but I will not prey to the lie.
Maybe today will be the day
that we all throw off our cloths, and chains
and the lie that a woman's body should be covered
that a white man be trusted more than any other
and a brown mother body be in labor without thanks.
Maybe today is the day we tell our white light father we are grateful
but we remember we must also always thank our brown mother, our earth body soul.
Maybe today is the day that see how brown and beautifully and earthy we are
The day we throw out the blue plastic antiperspirant tube, the bug poison and weed killer
The day we eat straight from the garden
invite anyone hungry into our homes
wrap anyone crying into our arms
lay our bodies down in front of all risk to show our brothers and sisters
the same love our parents showed us.
Trusting,
knowing
that we will go back
always
to the arms of our Big Brown Mother.
Wednesday, June 29, 2016
Ok the bad news is that our cherry tree is sick and it looks like we will be getting a very small crop this year, but the good news is a new friend just told us we can pick buckets from hers in her back yard! but the bad news is i am overwhelmed by all the fruit there is to pick, want to go strawberry picking too, still need to get my beans stung up, and its hot and i don't want to think about canning fruit for next winter, but the good news is I am overwhelmed by all the fruit there is to pick and there are free greens in my garden and growing all over the city and my kitchen is clean after a SUPER busy weekend where I helped a bride have an awesome wedding and made some money, all while keeping other
commitments and having fun, but the hard thing is my to do list is now super long and I have lots of calls to make, dates and conflicts to think about, details to pin down and i don't know if i can get to them all, but the good news is that I have so many amazing friends, old and new, beautiful family, and people interested in the pink house and what i have to offer the world, people who feel comfortable with me, who share what is deep in their hearts with me, who want to work with me. The bad news yesterday was Andre fell off his bike and hurt his hand pretty badly and It kept him up much of the night and i couldn't get him to help with somethings i was counting on him for today, but the good news was he didn't get really badly hurt even though he fell in the middle of the street downtown and my family is healthy. The bad news was that i felt like i didn't have time to take my 9 year old to the beach, the good news is my friend SaSa is taking him right now and I have dinner marinating for Chuck to grill as I get ready to run off to teach a yoga class. The bad thing about last week was that the last of the peonies rained their petals down on the floor and we won't get to see or smell them again until next year, for some of us maybe never again and i have been wondering when I will dance my last dance ever, how most of us we will never know when our last anything will be, but now the day lilies are blooming and the air is perfect and I have few wonderful minutes to sit calmly in my yard and write and be thankful for everything.
Monday, June 20, 2016
feel the petals
quick,
go outside and bury you face
deep in a peony
breath in its smell
stroke your cheeks with the petals
cool, silky
feel how soft beyond soft they are
fall in love with your skin
and the skin of the flower
together
meant for each other
do the petals feel you?
breath it all in
and think of me
and you
and how one day we will be in the ground
gone from what we know.
next time you see me
dance with me
love me
because the heat comes
June ends and the petals fall back to the ground.
go outside and bury you face
deep in a peony
breath in its smellstroke your cheeks with the petals
cool, silky
feel how soft beyond soft they are
fall in love with your skin
and the skin of the flower
together
meant for each other
do the petals feel you?
breath it all in
and think of me
and you
and how one day we will be in the ground
gone from what we know.
next time you see me
dance with me
love me
because the heat comes
June ends and the petals fall back to the ground.
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