A Letter From Your Little Sister

In the back of our minds, we knew a storm was coming
We could feel it on our skin, the oily charge of tension

It made our hair stand on end

We shuddered in the darkness and stocked our cupboards
We noted all the exits and mountain passes of egress
Sharpening the blade of our instincts on a whetstone of media
We could see in each other’s eyes how we were becoming feral

It was inevitable as a drawn bow
Our fawning nature begged
For an arrowhead

As clouds gathered, we dispersed
Desperately clutching to our meager pride
Divided we fell, to the Fear Monger of False Rhetoric

Where now is our loyalty to Lady Liberty?
Will she carry her torch alone through the storm?
What of her tired, her hungry, her poor
Those seeking asylum and freedom from tyranny?

We the People have no color, we have only unity

No longer will I sit silent, demure
Well trained never to speak of things bigger than I
For I am a nation
Unto myself
Beholden to my neighbors
My brothers and sisters, aunties and uncles
Those ancestors I buried all over this world

My voice alone belongs to me
And I will not be silenced by a tide of opposition
No matter how it seeks to drown me

So cheers to my family, whatever race you may be
I drink a toast to our pursuit of love and freedom
It is a rocky road we travel
But I will give you shelter from this storm
If we meet upon my road

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Sleeper, Dreamer

I imagine you to be a cocoon

Of what insect variety I am not quite certain

To be sure, you have wings

Time will tell if they are the mask of a Gypsy Moth

Or the scarlet flash of a Rose Swallowtail

 

Sunlight peers through your hidden layers

You curl inward awaiting…

The Spring of your precise moment

 

Leaves whisper, time beckons

Slow to pass in your reprieve…

Awaken, I say, for the winds remember

The names you have forgotten

 

The Memory Of A Tree

Another from the vaults

The Memory Of Trees

This is a FWF prompt from Kellie Elmore at http://kellieelmore.com/2012/06/01/fwf-free-write-friday-when-you-find-me/

 

I am a tree.

My roots delve deeply into the mountain soil, suckling the sweet water of hidden springs.

This body bears 750 rings of age, but I hold that as my secret. You will never know unless you murder me. Like holding a butterfly to examine it’s beauty, now a fleeting one once you have touched delicate wings with oily fingers. Bringing death to the exquisite being you had been admiring, in the act of appreciating it’s life.

These arms reach out to embrace the sky, I am the bridge between heaven and earth. Rustling and dancing to the tunes of wind, I will whisper to you wisdom if your mind is quiet enough. I will shade you from the sun, shelter you from rain, and breathe life into your lungs as I sip on the breeze.

I am a Mother of the forest, hosting birds…

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In Repose

Sunlight dances on the pool of an iris

Blue-green shifting depths of want

A pen slips on the pale flesh of pages

Grown brittle with sun, yellow with time

Tattoo of poetry, ink-stained impassioned graffiti

Mapping obscurities with a burning wrist

Candle light flickers like sentience

Half-glimpsed epiphanies in spiral galaxies of knotty pine

My wooden chair is planted to the floor

Questing roots sent deep into the heart of terra

Where neural pathways of forest and field

Are humming songs I sing in my sleep

Here is where my spirit is born

Anew, from the womb of solitude

Each time I close my eyes

Nebulous clouds of metaphor

Are birthing stars who will burn long after I am gone

For any who choose to wish on them

The tesseraction

I feel compelled to share this with you. It is a piece of work so powerful I have no words of description to offer you, you simply have to read it for yourself.
I hope it will touch you as deeply as it did me

Consciousness creates reality

Nothing would be the same
ever again—

Namaste in the way
we distrust—
extracting pure consciousness
just to drown in it—

Entire colonies were wiped out—
notes were taken—
the moon used to spew lava
but now it’s dead—

We were an infinite’s last ditch effort
just to show us what we had done—

We worshipped money as a god—
gnawing on nothing;
plastic skin smooth
as a succulent in the sand—
we could no longer keep quiet—
we deserted—

We burned the whole world
to the ground— we apologized
as a formality; we paid out;
we kept going—

The cancer of the last phase
of civilization reaches
into my voice—
my finger tips—
we held hands as we jumped—
we turned into liquid—

Prefabricated minds
spill down the grimy gutter
into the sewer that’s sieved
for bitter water; your river of life
full of garbage, human waste, torsos—
we…

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I Love You, World

I don’t believe in God-government

I am a political atheist

I do not sing anthem praise to small pox blankets and internment camps

I have been known to hug trees and escort spiders outdoors on a small piece of paper

I dig lightly in the garden and thank the worms when I find them

I am a simple lover of sunsets and cold beer

I have never had much faith in government, but I have faith in people

I have known violence, ignorant hate, racism

Yet also have I seen such love from strangers that I wept, wordless with gratitude

I live in Hawaii, the most diverse state in the U.S.

Here  “white” is a minority among many who share the land, and I am aware that I am an interloper

I wish all America could see this Aloha, where we are all one mixed up family together

No matter the skin color of your neighbor, we are all Ohana

We say “Antie” and “Uncle” to everyone if we do not know their name

I have children of all colors mobbing my back door every day after school saying “Auntie did you make cookies?”

“Build a wall” he says

I spit

Ask China how that worked for them

Ask Berlin

As I said before, I do not believe in politics

Walls do nothing but give people a line in the sand to fight over

This land is my land, this land your land, and this land was stolen without shame

The world belongs to all of us, every bleeding one of us, and we are not the greatest mother fuckers walking on it

Respect, that’s what I believe in

To the birds who roost in the branches and shit on my car, the mail carrier, the homeless veteran, the local stray dog, the police who give me a ticket, all of them receive equal treatment from me

I do not give an eye for an eye

It makes me sad to see this same old worn out argument

Of who has the right to love, to live without fear, to live in this or that country

Telling someone what gender they should be sounds so utterly ridiculous to me, I just don’t understand the argument

“Mind your own business” my mother taught me, and I do

I want the world to know that I love you, all of you, even if you do not love me

I want the world to know that we the people are the majority, and the majority of people are kind

Too much are we taught to fear, to hate, to build walls between eachother

I say build a bridge

With a smile or a cookie

And all that troubled water will flow beneath

Earth Songs

There was a movement in the ocean like breath

To the rhythm of earth’s heart beat, my feet pounded the drum of sand

Wind played my unbound hair like a jazz pianist

So sweet and slow was the stroke of sun upon my shoulders

In harmony with the tune of a passing sirus cloud, I take the full measure of the beach

End to end the dance of my tread, among puka shells and driftwood castles

Until black, immutable, stood the line of cliffs

Hunched and muttering in the break of sea

I sit myself down among basalt and stone crabs

My joyous limbs no longer aflutter as a bird in flight

Folded, wings resting on the curve of spine

Breathing with the patience of water

I am the song of birds in keawe groves

Pounding surf

Breezy fingers knowing hidden fissures of stone

I am the river who yearns, tumbling from the mountains to rejoin the sea

I am the memory of me

Someone who used to be

Now only melody

I reach to the heavens obscuring starlight behind noon’s coy veil

Casting a single wish into the silent ether

“Dance with me”