#me too

My response to the movement happening. I’m not on twitter or Facebook or any other media outlet other than this blog so… this is what I have to offer

Not a sob story but a reminder that woman have been fighting this quietly for a long while, and Ani just… says things honestly

So here

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Backyard Reflections

IMG_0679Back yard reflections

Of a squirrel’s scolding

Or the painted crown moldings

My hands and knees black with earth

 

Wages paid in callouses

Long stretches of back road

Poetry, my heavy load

Each step a drum- beat rhythm

 

Alone, I was a mountain

Beaten by the wind

Growing thicker skin

Storm dancing, in solitude

 

Those are the moments that make you

With heart wide open, wanting

At all the world’s beauty flaunting

Leaping from your own peaks, to soar

 

A good place to learn your power

When silence begs introspection

Noting the fractal, the inflection

Teaching your ears to see and your eyes to paint

 

Yet I shall never return

To valleys of red cedar and pine

That passive state of mind

I would rather be a Tiger, than a Rose

 

 

 

*this was my view on the back porch today, and the reflections of the Lilly and the sky shimmering slightly with the wind made me… reflective.

I wrote this about my childhood in the Cascade Mountains of Washington

It Was Late In the Evening

An acute progression of time

Moments compressing in memory until…

Only impression remains

 

The ghost of a name

A lifetime confounded by pathways

Choices

Made in the darkness, when you believed

In your own light

 

How silence became a challenge

To speak your mind to the wind

 

How has it come to pass

That one who’s bare foot was knowing in the moss

Now at a loss

For a scent to follow?

 

A snake mayhap, though once a tiger

Still I move amoungst the grass

Knowing in my age, my page

The Hunt is in my breath

 

It’s not my poetry that whispers, it is the wind

Inside me

When a flower blooms, my petals unfold

I feed the hungry bees who come to glut

They in turn pollinate the blooms of another

As they flit out across the luscious, intercontinental web of meadows

Of WordPress-

As if one could press, squeeze the fruits of my knowledge

Into a simple post

 

Please

I am not so easily quaffed

 

Still…

I offer this stream to you

Of consciousness flowing clear and true

To sip and wash the salt away

From the ocean of apathy you keep at bay

 

 

Coming Home

The bones ache with Autumn this time of year

I creak like two old trees rubbing together

At my feet lay the year’s growth I have casually cast aside

It rustles like pages unwritten in my memory

For I am a tree questing roots into the nameless

Sipping upon waters deep as a mountain

I taste starlight in my inhales of solace

And Terra in my whispers of song

 

I am a moment captured

Suspended in the fractal of a crystal or

Ethereal poem of epiphany

 

I am the Truth and I am the Seeker

I am one more link in the chain of millions

All breathing in this moment with me

 

And I am content

Just Over The Hill, Not Far Away

Hush, my dear one

Come nearer to my stony heart

This mountain of flesh and bone

Here the grass grows greener

Tickles your toes when they are naked

The stream of consciousness is clean, pure of hatred

Please, drink till your thirst for Truth has been sated

Fill your mouth with fruits of knowledge

No apples are forbidden here

The dawn chorus still sings to your blood

In this cathedral of trees and azure sky

The earth is black and pregnant with decay

In Her womb rest the seeds of our future gardens

Where our beans will climb the corn stalks

And our children will climb the chestnuts

 

 

Communing With Cliffs

Fledgling grey are the cloud covered cliffs

Infantile in a wan light of dawn

Sharp jagged teeth obscured, softened

By downy feathers of mist

 

Presently, I am witness

When sunshine at last burns away this youthful visage

That dark plumage rises like the wings of an albatross

And takes flight over the undulating Pacific

Revealing rippling muscles of volcanic stone

The red, lined face of a wizened elder

A memory of volcanos in the hollow roar of wind

 

With many faces, the cliff gazes upon my seat in the sand

I see her molten and raging

I see her crumbling back into the embrace of sea

I see her holding bones like a babe to her breast

 

Arising reluctantly from my wind-swept bluff

I return to my bi-pedal state of mind

Tenderly leaving my woven sweet grass

To wander in the breeze

 

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