Red Sweater

These days are a lot unlike those ones, at the same time we are all running parallel to ourselves. We dream and eat and live and all the while think we know what it is to ever wake up. What has been defined as dreaming, I'm finding, is quite the opposite, and so it goes for living. All I know are feelings. All I feel is what I'm allowed, or what I allow myself. These days are not unlike the ones I imagined, but where to draw the line between me and you? You are as real in my dreams as in what has been defined as my waking life. As for me, well perhaps it's just as well. Dreams don't end like books. Nor is there an underlying moral or theme. It's all of the in betweens and crosswalks and childhood record books and a mother's touch to bring me back...to sleep.

Humbled

*I come and go with the rain

*Dreams serve as my moonlit dinner for two
all goes my way when it's me who guides the bow across seas of string

*And she, the earth, my darling cluster of grace and chaos. My every will to dance, to work, to bleed, she bears the stake through which I drive me. She bears my every blow. It is she, the sea against my bow

Big Mouth

strikes...again.

where Does one draw the line between honesty and feelings?

exhausted.

His Visits

they spin my head and flip my insides over and release the streams of unwelcome light into my life. it's not the kind of light that leads me to the right, it gets me into fights with me and he claims the victory. so many years passed and back to that upward reaching kid. back to long phone calls between strangers (slash) twisted relatives. i said i loved him too. he said he loves me like i should believe him and i said i loved him too because i did. at least at some point in my life i think i did. but now they're just words to me. everything he might have said, anything i might have said were just words. but what i know to be true has never come from him directly, no. nothing ever comes from him directly unless if (and only if) it is coated with manipulation and ulterior motives or a fist.

To Be Continued...

One time, I fell in love..

"THE SYSTEM VOMITS PEOPLE."

Amplified

The air is thick with moisture and smells of an energy that cannot be seen, only felt and heard.

With arms opened wide I shut my eyes, face to the sky, absorbing the waves that pass through the atmosphere.

The laughs, the cries, the music, the distant sound of raindrops falling onto the backs of working men and women.

All is full of life and amplified beneath a cloud blanketed sky.

Heat from chimneys rises and dissipates invisibly overhead.

A woman slowly makes her way down the gravel road singing "Solo Le Pido A Dios...."

We gave this day a name to keep track of where it goes and what's to come.

When did it become okay to stake our claim?

To whom do we hold the blame for the trembling earth below us?




This land is not our own.





We occupy our space on borrowed soil.

Belonging to no one, given names only by righteous invaders.

Betrayers of the moon walk lightly.

Go in peace and love her.

The night is not mine, nor will she ever be.

The clay that clings to working heels is not ours, nor will it ever be.

Ears to the earth, she breathes in pain.

These are the stakes that we claim.