~feathers from the muse's wings~

May Senryū 2018

2018-06-01T18:22:00.002-07:00

May Senryū 2018

for those time-blessed among the stars

her gaze raised to meet | his swell of feelings years stored | a tsunami

laid out in rows | the sardines she craved | in her phases to full moon

how it continues | so much pain in the world | the far side of love

tall sword ferns breakthrough nightmares | sharp green tongues confused | tangled foliage 

saw his hidden heart | in photographs of places | he sent across time

tries to heal deep wounds | from younghood days lost | time does not fly

mackerel bellied clouds | etched across blue sky| welcomes salmon sunset

a soothing place | misty and watercolored | no constant talkers here

to preserve our being | we leave legacies | share words on paper | the beauty our minds paint | our heart-minds take flight in song

calm appeals | for reasonableness | for compassion | instead of hate and anger | instead of fiery life

you can read my mind | the same flesh and blood | your dna in my heart

memories linger | your butterfly touches | there’s no shame in love

in acts of kindness | she seeks collaboration | small changes matter

for the time being | she lights a candle | for someone who understands

the pain of her own | heartbreak for a world | slow turtle changes for good  

your inbox empty | there’s not even any spam | you have been ghosted

critical image | a dragon wing of water | sweeping away life

you cannot capture | water is like our image | it knows escape routes 

doomed to extinction | now cannot be framed | we’re all escaped images

even this moment | time passes to the past quick | now always exits

we blur and distort | to preserve a moment passed | an image captured

at your mansplain quack quack quack | she thinks of water | rolling off duck's back

milky cataracts | flowers of emptiness | oil on water

bella flor | vida arrancada | lagrimas negras

we are the distilled | tears of ancestors turned clouds | skies become clear lakes

your email | bad flew out | like from that infamous box | I shouldn’t have opened up | the past is of a past me

we simply flow | through the impermanence | leaves on the river

futile arguments | shed more heat than light | we listen to heal | our broken hearts must be heard | with compassion and justice

you kill in the name of God | say you are chosen | must be the vengeful one | to mow down innocents | as if they were not human

explanations | secrets are like moths to light | no excuses

blackbirds take a break | mockingbirds new messengers | with all their chitter

you treat them badly | as if their lives don't matter | why should they care | work is not just money | it's about making change

in the line of time | there's no going back | she prefers the circle

Copyright © 2018 Odilia Galván Rodríguez. All Rights Reserved.

Itzpapalotl

2018-05-19T11:52:00.003-07:00

Itzpapalotl

By Odilia Galván Rodríguez

for my mother and all the mothers 

butterfly warrior woman
you were forged in fire
fierce in your desire
to transform yourself and
your world
from the red-orange flames
to birth and inspire
new nations without borders

Oh precious star 
your beauty does not blind me
nor do the tongues of your flames
I am not frightened
to walk into your embrace
you Obsidian Flower
who like the sharpest knife
cuts through all the lies and
shapeshifts tomorrows

Copyright © 2018 Odilia Galván Rodríguez.  All Rights Reserved.

Itzpapalotl ~ The Obsidian Knife Butterfly

art ©Richard Balthazar: https://richardbalthazar.com/art/aztec-images/gods/itzpapalotl-obsidian-butterfly-goddess-of-the-stars/

Tortilla Moon over a McAllen, TX 4* Hotel Pool

2018-05-19T10:36:00.001-07:00

Tortilla Moon over a McAllen, TX 4* Hotel Pool 

For BV

I do not have blond hair

My eyes are not blue

My skin is copper

I’m not milk-colored like you

Your parents look at me

Like I don't belong 

I see all of you watching and 

whisper to my mom 

All these are rich people 

I know,  I look scared

I am, it makes me shy

Mom’s friend, who’s not from here

looks at me, smiles, and says 

Girlfriend, you're as rich

If not richer than all those there 

Never forget you're as good 

As anyone anywhere, so don't be shy

Go over and own the world

Yes, it's just as much yours

As it is theirs, let’s go

Jump in that pool

She goes with me

Then I am fine

Copyright © 2018 Odilia Galván Rodríguez.  All Rights Reserved.

April Senryū 2017

2017-10-31T21:36:00.002-07:00

April Senryū 2017 
for Spring blooms 

harmonica harp | digs into her chest pulls strings | with heart ripping sounds

beso tus ojos | pero no recuerdas | cuánto me deseas

heat wave in streets | poetry and music calls | inside we write our souls

you catch my spirit | in your lightbox with an eye | it will be free again

no more predictions | on the weather or demons | on how they'll behave | 

all protocols abandoned | who knows how madmen will rule

to feel nostalgia | for those lips that need so much | witchcraft in his smile

our universe built | on sacred geography | with secret knowledge

a moment in time | same as in a thousand years | uniquely sincere

today her soul fell back | into place with his voice | smiling at her

a rain of lightning | that came down in thick ropes | with thunder up ahead

how to rip your heart | out of that story so old | from my heart that bleeds

when yesterday calls | not wishing to relive pasts | she will not answer

it's best to be gone | the way we come in a spark | in an instant

bombs should never be | but aimed at those who love war | not at innocents

bella bebida | caída del cielo | zumo de estrellas

there are no words | for cowards who drop bombs | for those who love war

moving in circles | she avoids head-on moon-slides | planets hula-hoop | backward and no one cares | spoiled princesses cause wars

sprouting grass moon | full bloom possibilities | in rainclouds embrace

storms threaten | music's gotten her through many | how lucky she's been

shall I bury you | are you finally dead and gone | your ghost's everywhere

wants to heal the world | revolutionary love | with mad crazy love

bombs against people | to send a don’t bomb message | that they shouldn’t bomb

In Lak’ech | I’m in you-you're in me | there are no six degrees

Spring is budding new | though evil tries to destroy | life on our planet

writes pretty poems | because she needs beauty | the world is so f&#*ed

spiders sway from silk | swings in trees blooming Springtime | green shoots buds of life

when people you love | the ones you think you know | hide in the shadows

there are thirteen sides | to every story with rules | our lives come with maps

when he touches her | there's no one else in the room | saxophone lightning

the first day of April | came in sunny and dry | who's foolin' who

Copyright © 2017 Odilia Galván Rodríguez.  All Rights Reserved.

March Senryū 2017

2017-03-31T23:33:00.000-07:00

for embracing new life with all its challenges

in one-hundred words | she writes him a love poem | an hasta luego
| maybe another forty | to say aloha again

dancing mid-street | not acting any age | trying to wake up

unheard voices | speak to us in images | herstory muses

not an afterthought | who you think of while pruning | all of your roses

lonely people | in Japan they rent out cats | here spend days on-line

then she walked loveblind | into a new life chapter | it was much later
| she discovered his role | trivial to her story

an eclipse of light | you stand in the door | occulting the sun

dragons and snakes | soaring / seeking perspective | opposites attract

we won't say your name | you will forever be | just number 45

crow hitches a ride | posing as hood ornament | old time GPS

morning's afterbirth | rainbow rings around the sun | ice crystals bent light

she felt the bones break | before she ever got beat | she got so tired
| of a life dodging violence | before she could escape

trouble... the water | that needs healing like we do | pray for the answers
| sing the water whole again | if we believe we can

we don't grow old | our bodies wear and tear | there's no replacement parts

blood ties not always | as strong as those bonds we form | friends as familia

lugar mágico | donde fui concebida | entre mezquite
| y nopal brotando | flores de sol y sangre

World Poetry Day | let's all put down our weapons | unite in the word
| in flower and song offered | for peace and love to prevail

Spring is in motion | US climate glacial ice | waiting for the thaw

she cannot die | a person who creates | she was never born
| she transcends time and space | becoming and existence

what was hidden | heart in the present moment | brought into being

defrag your mind | fill in those gaps caused by hate | recall slows us down

easy amnesia | another word for denial | erase blasted pasts
| pretend we were all saints | we had no help sinning

can't lose everything | if you give it all away | sit in stillness

before time or space | lived dark where ego is killed | swirls unseen forces

her everyday eats | poems to calm a torment | non-monotonous

gap-toothed pain while ailing | from alien greed | craters in the head

a gypsy poet | with no birthplace monument | born on the road

a force to embrace | women who carry water | who know how to pray

you can pretend | you don't love me anymore | I know the truth

heading west for home | a piece of my heart lives there | on Pacific's shore
| a door to a future-past | one that will always last

rain is falling | in the garden plants lift heads | give thanks to the frogs

April the Cruelest Month - Senryū and Cinquains

2016-05-11T23:04:00.000-07:00

creative commons license

for an understanding of men who have no clue about women

the April days move | slow in snow wanting to be | rain blessing the ground

she cries about corn | how now it's being monsterized | how it is her flesh

wears more

than protective

vest, she wears a tough flesh

overcoat. Not bullet proof, no.

it serves

keeps men

away, you know

the kind that prey, and stalk

women slight of stature, or off

balance

wearing

stand 'em up shoes

those kind that make you lose.

ones that say come fuck me ~ pumps so

untrue

the coat's

gotten too long

she wants to give it up

donate it to Goodwill ~ it's ov-

er kill

when men's

eyes turn to her

they slide over the hill

her latest disguise is close to

salty

couldn't hug her | enough to leave her there | sun child in the land of snow

she thinks

his mouth on hers.

how good it makes her feel

knowing that morning, she did brush ~

her teeth

your days are overcast skies | your heart bursts like clouds | it rains from your eyes

everyday we shake our heads | because we can't believe | you in body are gone | we search for you on shorelines | in the songs of spirit birds

used to jump at shadows | inclined to take flight | now never afraid | to take on a just struggle | a battle of ideas

all her hopes and dreams | born a reality | his life her salvation

she speaks oracle | no one knows how to feel it | a flower opened

slanderings scurry | up and down the shoreline sure | I think of your mouth

winter reminder | driving rain from the Valley | golfball sized hailstones | April when corn is greening | foggy storms turn turbulent

you = happy | at times my greatest sadness | it's an up - down thang

She says let's dream on it | she no longer thinks | thinking has no heart

we celebrate | national sibling day | mourn our lost ones | and our parents gone long to land | of ancestors they've become

sun broke through grey days | a walk in the snowmelt | April showers frozen

the hawk is wind | razor sharp its insistence | to stay the course

snow in April | winter holds spring in its grip | everyone looks for sun

Spring rain spills in ropes | hopes for another green day | tomorrow today

I could

write abuela's

hair braids, her bun~

but what fun would that be?

rather write about her high tops

red dreams

she wore

them in the Spring

garden, planting her seeds ~

calabacitas born darkest

lime green

she grew

corn much taller

than her, barely five foot ~

sweet, abundant that tenderest

golden

green corn

masa for best

tamales of the year

everyone helped shuck, newly born

heaven

because

it is April

her almost birthday month

we sing her las mañanitas

she cries

man gave her lemons | she made lemonade before | she bashed in his head | not really his head you know | but she visioned it in her own

women bleed so much | in so many ways | then become bad daughters | to mothers that don't mean them | no harm only the best good

March Senryū 2016

2016-04-08T16:05:00.000-07:00

"Crows in the Hood" by Comrade Foot. Creative Commons.

for the ability to live up to challenges

we visit you here | in this place we can't fathom | with beautiful flowers

grand love

fathers \ daughters.

some, almost perfect, no?

there are those who could tell you truths --

to shame.

when you're proud to know | the boy you raised who grew wise | way beyond his years

that kiss was kismet | some past life holdover | now to get over it

wild blackbird warning | then car's back door flies open | wallet on the ground |

Good Samaritan noticed | comes to your rescue saves day

old Havana | has her secrets hidden deep | in layers of paint

mysticwoman | she who sees beyond eyes | who hears the longtime voices

there are don't ride trains | ones that are going down wrong | sidetracked forever

the eyes have it | true windows to the heart/soul | what do yours say

she works in the dark | hands need no light to create | smooth and soothe the lines

people block the hate | with their bodies and prayers | close down the clown's cars |

until the streets can be safe | once more from this war on us

ancestral knowledge | sure as sunshine and moon rise | we are all welcomed

my dream peeps | are keepers and are not me | have their own lives to live

in shackles and chained | no respect for human beings | illegal they're not

kindness of strangers | takes you by the arm | welcomes you like family

sad for that hurt feeling | don't know why people hate | ocean bottom deep

in the morning | she will give thanks for being | for one more day |

to become a better human | to pray for health and kindness

tongues for justice | will never be silenced | from ashes rises fire

we geography | the maps and myths of our lives | places and people

beauty of the blush | of new flower bud just born | of sacred promise

new flood warnings | morning woke late and foggy | turned off her alarm

thunder beings roar | gulf waters jump up the shore | downpour on the brink

going inward | to reflect on no reflection | mirror the darkness |

seeking out those specks of stars | your love that's become so small

hair clip

on the sidewalk~

rusty as the years long,

held up some beautiful tresses

back when.

so we dis-agree | about presidents and such | aren't we family |

we're not that divided | we both want peace and justice

land where you were made | where ancestors lived and died | a full life circle |

you piece together the songs | the wrongs no longer matter

a book is a world | enter its doors and go | journeying the unknown

the mother in her | makes them feel comfortable | is what makes them talk |

they open up like windows | on a bright sunny day

so much love is soup | simmered steamy with good will | veggies and chicken

hunger food for thought | and a quiet place in woods | where the raven calls

denial does no good | in friendship one must see | their own shortcomings

January and February Senryū 2016

2016-04-08T13:31:00.000-07:00

Super Moon, July 12, 2014, courtesy Marie-Marthe Gagnon, Flickr Creative Commons.

February

for staying in the present todays, and for those sweet yesterdays that will never come again

lazy day Sunday | breakfast with a new friend | end and beginning

cool evening | sleeps and wakes a windy day | with gulf waves raging

descarrilado | en medio de su mundo | tiniebla duro

derailed | in the middle of his world | hard darkness

torrential rains one minute | then hot sun barking | loudly on the street

full snow moon | this is not June it’s winter | the false Spring’s singing |

songs of fireflies and ladybugs | it’s certainly not summer

full hunger moon | a desire for flowers | ready to spread wings

what you could have had | but decided to pass up | took love for granted

you know what’s missing | are torn apart by grief | can’t figure out why

a warriors heart | bigger than their whole body | often full of ache |

the force of convictions | motivated by deep love

your good face forward | there’s no place for grief | so lead with a smile |

think of your tears as wings | that fly over the gulf searching

your big sun smile | loves every minute of joy | this work has brought |

and Spring’s wanting to be sprung | you in every flower

love not a one day affair | it’s three-hundred-sixty five | twenty-four-seven |

like you crave sun in winter | cool water in the spring

you are a love | from time before time mattered | you will always be

we are witnesses | to the injustice | world of greed and hate

you’ve become a saint | a prophet to remember | your teachings humble

there are trees that speak | skin’s related to bark | you listen content |

always knew they are relatives | guarding you since you were young

his skin on yours silk | your young bodies seamless | no begin or end just two

you are everywhere | in every living being | it does my heart good

of ghosts and spirits | we dream each other’s stories | that ignore borders

imagining | a better world to leave | for future

when all the stars stared | down to find you in the midst | there you were in trees |

a wind song kissing leaves | you always wanting verde

story of her life | the best ones choose others | her picker broken

she is leaking grief | leaving its blue trickle trail | everywhere she goes

the road gives you time | to know you are from there | home is where you are

she shakes her head | knowing it’s not really true | you have not gone on

they hang out their shingle | sell pretty new age snake oil | so buyer beware

only her medicine | words that can’t be spoken | but sung aloud |

can save her from sadness | that place of despair

speak in fiery tongues | from our mouths encantations | fly forth in love

you here in the wind | in the trees where black birds sleep | in the deepest song

January

when you love without | an agenda about you | thinking you are it

dark misty coastline | driving rain and loving it | missing the unseen

those who make medicine | with their good words no lies | with their good hearts

the imposters masks | shall be ripped from their faces | take no places |

that do not belong to you | your lies become the crows call

we try to understand | what can never be | how to move on

with the snow moon full | you say your final goodbyes | fly into the light

rest in peace | sweetest Rose of the valley | mother to so many

worn out your machine | called a body a temple | and you want to dream

beyond borders | you fly home to ancestors | who wait with open arms

hermano mio | fly home to the ancestors | to their resplendent arms |

In Xochitl In Cuicatl

we worry in vain | about much we can't control | better to have glee

it's a new year | a chance at beginnings | give thanks every day

Journey Home

2016-01-23T19:39:00.000-08:00

For FXA, February 21, 1954 - January 15, 2015

our mother water | cleared this day a greener path | came down in thick ropes

ayer rituales | from that cradle where you grew | all your traditions

rooted in some strong | long ago red earth pregnant | possibilities

of that son you are | true to all you have become | in this world of spines

that would sooner pierce | than heal soul bodies with food | sacrificed from flesh

and the heart of it | is that life is just like that | thorny to shield soft

and vulnerable | though we mimic the strongest | ones rooted firme

deep in the forest | of our lives that don’t last long | we make our own way

don't regret the turns | taken to get to ends | that always come too soon

watch you breathe ragged | breaths from their shallow nests | you eye me and see

my soul reaching out | to soothe you hermano | as you struggle through

a warriors death | you are present for it all | strong in your resolve

to experience | your passing like your life | to the fullest

now you have taught me | one more thing eye didn’t know | to die with courage

worn out your machine | called a body a temple | and you want to dream

we demand dreaming | to take you into next world | light to guide your way

we pray for comfort | want no fear for your journey | in that place that calls you

near or far not gone | now the people want to flock | to your side to touch

that flame before it goes out | but not everyone | can be invited

to witness your flight | only the very dearest | for it’s your journey

eye am close but far | or a little distant | for fear of trampling

yesterday as you slept | eye read you Snake Poems | your eyes flew open

you recognized | your own incantations | spilling into the room

like watercolors | of our mother blue | splashing the walls

with our laughter | we chased away the shadows | tears became happy

eye am writing this | how we communicate | curando con palabra

changing their lead | into spun golden prayers | showers of pollen

to sprinkle hope | onto the heads of this world | some so hard can’t see

you take your book | out of my hands and recite | you channel from there

body in flames | a different sort of burning | you down to ashes

| waiting to fly out of them | resplendent in your journey

eye can’t imagine | a world without you in it | brother born of word

you a love warrior | fighting to stay present | to your last breath

eye struggle to know | what to say now that words | no longer matter

| except as prayers | except as incantations

we communicate by breaths | each one marks pain and promise | you still here with us

when eye read your words | tears spring to my eyes and fall | silently streaming

we are about the word | a business that is not one | blessings upon all

you’ve left Francisco | body that housed your spirit | now you’re all angel

beyond borders | you fly home to ancestors | who wait with open arms

Davis, CA 12 - 15, Enero

Achcauhtli

2015-12-29T18:57:00.000-08:00

Pat Gaines/Flickr Creative Commons

dedicated to the Cēmānāhuac Poet Laureate Francisco X. Alarcón 

You, King of Hummingbirds

of Monarch butterflies

of bluest gulf waters

whose waves rise the height of skyskrapers

to kiss winking stars 

in overcast skies

You, a lighthouse 

that has always beckoned me

from that shadowy place

of deepest dark

of being lost in tumultuous waters

of self doubt and fear

You, who is always sure

of the magia

our ancestor’s tongues

the glyphs of invocation contained

in sounds of sunrise and sunset

their energy transferred to 

our own words

to the sacred stones that sing

sealed by the feathers of mighty birds

or a simple snap of our fingers

You, man of heart and wisdom

there is no place you can go

that the wind does not whisper

your name 

its secrets in your ear

the eternal spiral that links

your healing words

to our lips

that flower

in flor y canto

IN LAK'ECH - HALA K'IN

Copyright © December, 2015 Odilia Galván Rodríguez.  All Rights Reserved.

Notes:

Achcauhtli: Leader

Cēmānāhuac: the name used by the Aztecs to refer to their world. It is a Nahuatl 

name derived from the words "cē" one/whole and "Ānāhuac", which in turn derives 

from the words "atl" (water) and "nahuac."

IN LAK'ECH - HALA K'IN: Mayan for ~ I am you, and you are me.

July Senryū 2015

2015-08-11T19:13:00.000-07:00

June Senryū 2015

2015-07-02T19:08:00.000-07:00

May Senryū 2015

2015-06-11T19:03:00.000-07:00

April Senryū 2015

2015-05-04T18:55:00.000-07:00

March Senryū 2015

2015-04-18T18:50:00.000-07:00

February Senryū 2015

2015-03-03T18:42:00.000-08:00

for being able to not only see, but to believe in the truth

✿

she worries he’ll fly | so fast his wings won’t carry | the weight of the past | but one can only live | the life they are assigned

family blood ties | land wind and trees that witnessed | births of our ancestors | whose hearts are buried here | deep down in this rich brown earth

we write our lives | in lines across years | on paper we set our sails

they wake from flying | poems that come through day dreams | then birth themselves whole

there’s nothing sexy | about trains going off rails | but clouds making rain | is natural as babies | being born blessed this morning

earth’s survival | is not dependent on us | our survival

love is a whole world | immense feelings filled with hope | of tremendous joy

a bright bud | of a new Rose bloomed | born brilliant

the way they fit | pieces of this puzzle lost | fine tuned enigma | put back together again | if she’s wrong just let her go

today’s road is peace | birds soar in the vast sky | on path partying

these ashes cross me | symbol ofa life’s circle | ever returning

yo canto rio | tu estas dentro | del agua yo grito amor | te quiero mas qu’el agua | que corre por mis venas

aún te quiero | despues de todo amor | siempre es siempre

she wants only love | pure simple and willing love | not convenience

she’s always prepared | with contingency plans | to win or lose

there’s no Valentine | but my heart is secure | Love is everywhere

hormonal blues | the do’s and don’ts of aging | how old are you

tremendous joy | followed by hollow sadness | of life’s ups and downs

contemplating | Spring and cleaning out clutter | the consequences

she got tired of being | a poem on lips of people | who did not know her

what do trees tell me | about life they’ve lived so long | standing ones so wise

our grapes deep purple | staring out from the clear cup | warming up the dark

a day of new beginnings | hatched in candle light | as winter lingers

you are the poem | not the words that fly from her | a brilliant starlight

there’s never a way | to undo past mistakes | just forgive yourself

troubled turbulence | she’s humbled in its belly | iron bird travels

plump with promise | of healing inner demons | full moon rises proud

bone moon rising | while winter beats at the door | sip the marrow soup

poems and photo copyright © 2015 Odilia Galván Rodríguez.

All Rights Reserved.

January Senryū 2015

2015-02-10T09:51:00.001-08:00

December Senryū

2015-01-03T09:52:00.000-08:00

November Senryū

2014-12-03T06:07:00.001-08:00

November Senryū

For the ancestors, whose shoulders we stand on ~

and for TM

what minds refuse | hearts can feel in their tendrils | and strive to reach for |

that elusive connection | some call love and others doubt

a day to say no | to the buy buy buying | of things that don't matter

thanks for earth's bounty | in our lives grateful for all | she gives and takes

winter fires kindled | for nights long and cold | hold me in your arms of hearth

flying south for winter | she arrives with crescent moon | in jet night sky

he is but a youth | in the body of a man | she once loved on fire

nothing is promised | each moment a gift | a life must be lived fully

give me your heart | hold in it your palms | as if it were yours to give

you fear the risk of losing | but do not lose for fear | love fearlessly

you'll never be far | your heart's echo-steady beat | learned in the waters |

of your mother's loving womb | that cradled your journey here

fly into the arms | of your ancestors who wait | with abounding joy |

to hold you in that sparkling | place we all return too soon

give thanks every day | for each breath and each step | for our earth mother

she dreams you as twins | one loves the other aloof | and still she's alone

tulley fog blankets | the valley wrapped in cotton | batting for fruit trees

he is a nice day | a face that brightens shadows | all sunshine and smiles

we've all had our losses | can feel those of others | learn how to let go

she no longer sleeps | with fairy tales tucked under | her pillow sprouts wings

she has too many rules | keeps her in balance | then he comes along |

smashes through those walls of hers | says life is change go with it

for all those voices silenced | we shall continue | to call for justice

all children matter | all life is precious | no one is disposable

disappeared youths | sacrificed for telling truths | your spirits still live |

we shall never forget you | our hearts demand your return

powerful women | voices often muted | in the bustle of life |

the washing of clothes and floors | in the factories and fields

in our impatience | we forget old lessons learned | love becomes struggle

frost moon mirror | of winter waiting on wings | to blanket us in white

everyday flowers | bring color and light | to the shadowed just beyond

Frosty Moon pregnant | with promise of rain and cold | on the horizon

you vote your conscience | put your hope in a system | in need of repair

still high on spirits | sugary as November | moon's calabaza smile

Día De Muertos | our day of honoring | our ancestors |

who in our hearts never die | who are always there waiting

sky opened up | spilled out its precious liquid | blessed the town with rain

October Senryū

2014-11-03T06:14:00.000-08:00

October Senryū

for all death that comes dancing

✿⊱╮

los muertos no se van | siempre son nuestros | vivos en corazones |

en historias y cuentos | viven en los poemas de vida

Dia De Muertos | no es el Halloween | un día de ancestros

your voice travels through | I hear your don't forget me | this now without you

when she lives in her head | instead of her heart | that is when fear appears

coyote crossed her path | on a walk down the hills | breakfast in his mouth

bleeding lies to justify | their untruths and hate | what permeates here

blood as in hunters moon | as in ebb-flow | as in tides of desire

golden petals bright | guide their spirits in the night | a feast for the eyes

revolution | is not selfies of you | objectifying |

yourself and therefore all | womankind

testing truth in lies | the way you think words matter | and they do sister |

they do if they’re authentic | if they help us all to rise… rise

Fall leaves scatter | a divine artist’s palette | ambrosia in color

life becomes cloudy | living in a bottle | with no way out

self medicates | to keep away the raw | everyday feelings brought on |

by time-machine living | when things never change

save your country | where your ancestors hearts are |

buried inred earth | aching to be free from hate

disbelieve borders | trying to tell you your worth | fly over the moon

we may well show you | a side you’d never know | otherwise

elixir of life | TV’s false fountains (of youth) | it could simply be a smile

racism kills | it hurts all us humans | keeps us divided |

divisions are devices | meant to keep hearts apart

Pintura : Palabra

palaver : platica

a talk between tribespeople

what artists : writers hear

with eyes and

respond with their hearts

they will pray the rain | they will sing and dance the rain | they will beg the rain |

and when earth is respected | again the rain will come down

the way we witness | world events responding | with poetry

she won't obambulate no | today is to rest | contemplate the sky

in different orbits | a knot that can't be undone | a tie that binds us

minutos cuentan | y el tiempo semece | en una silla |

cuando uno espera | vivir para siempre

minutes count | and time rocks | in a chair |

when one expects | to live forever

when you are hurt so am I | this the nature of things | love and family

she refuses to live | on timetables that sigh | those empty head shakes

celestial fireworks | star showers zip across skies | happiness to behold

she sketches him | only memories to guide | blue in light's shadow

there is no instant |replay on the children | we lose to hate

blood moon rising | eclipses truths in shadows | light always surfaces

September Senryū 2014

2014-10-02T08:20:00.000-07:00

August Senryū 2014

2014-09-04T00:09:00.000-07:00

✿⊱╮

for love not war

his voice smooth as smoke | wafts its way around souls | engulfs her in flames

born an island girl | she needs alone time | and sunrise that smiles hello

if today she doesn't wake | she gives thanks for all | the loves of this life

sometimes dancing is a spell | or ceremony | to heal what ails you

in love with words | I am the mothers' daughter | hers only on loan

tight like teeth | only shares the necessary | smile for the truth

no power back when | they tried to take all her grace | she learned to cherish

turnkey lockdown | heart that can only open | to the owner of the key |

so it be | now and forever

you the greatest gift | a son to love always | proud as all mothers

they suggest beauty | as a way to combat stress | butterflies flowers |

all of it part of life | in the shadows and in grace

we put our hands up | now surrender could mean death | we are sacrificed

collateral damage | people no longer trust | in their government

weary of the war | before more horrors manifest | here at home

divorce is a death | this special person you've loved | is no longer there

don't apologize | you can't help who you love | love is a great thing

the best of life | is in the growing of it | you don't grow you go

moonbathes under satellite | super-sized shine | wishes on a star

beautiful to know | your love’s unconditional | that you're still here

let love break through | all those walls built in fear | its light will shine true

after shock | possibly fatal mishap | a near miss in slow motion

every name precious | lights blown out before their time | all of our children

seemingly sane | she goes on with life | tries not to weep at the rain |

not to hear slain voices |spirits amid the rubble

silence is complicity | next they come for you | who will speak then

forbidden love | timeless deep affection | enchanted entanglement

in her sleep she hears | bombs falling and she can't wake | people are trapped

you say I'm breaking | your heart it's not mine | while I continue to bend

blue spirit horses | brought a foretelling of peace | galloped through their dreams

it is our first drum | mother's heart that resonates | its beat into cells

love at first sight | seen through rose colored glasses | the blooms never leaves

she builds rooms with books | piled high are hopes and dreams | to be realized

hexagram heaven | what do the signs say today | listen to the wind

particles of change | miraculously give voice | to those with no tongue

Life, A Dream

2014-08-08T22:53:00.000-07:00

✿

she has no idea
about being gone
or staying still
she knows she loves
flowers in bloom
real or imagined
what is life
if not a dream
you wake from
only to enter
another one
and so on
going from dream
to dream until
one solitary day
you become part
of the unseen and
dream with those
who've gone on
those on this side
dream you too
in the warp and weft
that is life's tapestry

July Senryū 2014

2014-08-08T22:40:00.003-07:00

July Senryū 2014

for love and peace

✿

if it were up to her | there would be no more war | no more suffering

no more obsessions | those writings about being | in love with love

she fell in love | with him at first sight | he's been her muse ever since

we belong to the land | we are her bounty | no-thing to war over

a time loop tangle | sticky as fly paper | charmed forever

she does simple things | laundry and roasting chiles | gets her mind off war |

for awhile she doesn't think | of families being murdered

the worst of the barriers | is that of the mind | think for yourself

no real words left | to say how I feel about war | except NO MORE

The death toll rises, people are dying - genocide!

she feels him | missing her in away that hurts | both now and then

ella lo siente (a el) | extrañado la en esa manera que duele | entonces y ahora

we must not lose heart | everyday we pray and struggle | for peace

across the world | war rages and people die | all call cease fire

I love love | people think that's old fashioned | I know it's new

moon bled red | decried earth's blood shed | her children at constant war

the way of the world | cannot be heartless | we must teach our children well

simply knowing | he would do anything | for her is enough

we say no to war | not in our names do you kill | no more forever

misses the someones | who were something in her life | all deserving love

thunder moon rising | in your light we shine smiling | glad to be alive

he the blurry edge | an unrequited love | of full moons in July

personal greed | is fear based but not on need | rooted in evil

she cannot explain | rituals rote and quiet | ever changing same

she reinvents herself | at the core fire | she will not be moved

where is compassion | children must flee death squads | gone the way of true love

independence | does not rely on others | giving you freedom

independence | can not be celebrated | when people are not free

so quick to throw | women under the bus | someone else's rights

change yourself | in a flutter the world changes |just a bit

en los escombros | de su amor aprende | como amarse

verdure her love | growing lush and wide | across the world

eyes wide open | yet she dreams through her life | wishing she could love |

that one special one | that is lost to her

with pockets full of shells | she leaves the seashore| flowers in her heart

up against thick walls | that keep hate and fear inside | that deter no-thing

she lets the nighthawks | fly away with her troubles | not obscure the moon

at the cross roads | she stands in the center |finding her way

shadow walker | between this world and the next | weaving connections

she lives with a piece of sea | deep inside her blues| maneuvers the rocks

Palestinian flags flutter at Israel's border with Gaza

Split This Rock: Split This Rock Call for an End to the Attacks on ...

2014-07-31T14:40:00.001-07:00

Split This Rock: Split This Rock Call for an End to the Attacks on ...: As an organization whose very existence was born from the global Poets Against the War movement, we at Split This Rock are grieved and outr...