familia

January 5, 2012

deer familia blanca:

es bueno to stop,

rest in peace.

es bueno to feel empty,

the space where spirit is born.

es bueno to feel lost,

the weary mask of searching.

es bueno to feel disconnected,

gravity blesses all roots floating among the stars.

.

.

.

(in a language too young bold for goddess to understand):

with request, with agreement, with seeing value, primero

it is harmful to take

it is harmful to touch

it is harmful to explore

with authority, with morality, with duty primero:

it is harmful to give

it is harmful to guide

it is harmful to develop

with pity, with hunger, with guilt primero;

it is harmful to protect

it is harmful to adore

it is harmful to organize

.

with hands ancient unhealed and still moving

nuestr@s ancestr@s blanc@s still scream

denied ritual, ceremony, dance of la madre’s abrazos,

los huetlhuetlter@s blanc@s groan in silence

hearts still atop the soil

no sister vulture talons to take them to father sky

cuz even her wings got clipped by the white fire

.

some babies today say

we should’ve never fed them our maize

should’ve never offered four-legged family skins to warm

and herbs to heal sores from the overseas journey.

some babies today say

we can never trust them again

never see our grandmothers’ lands again

never harvest clean water again

never know when our. skin. too. began to lighten.

.

seems all i can remember these days

are the prayers for anger

for rage release

for mourning.

prayers for love to fill

dissolve all hatred

in this heart redder than clay

prayers for love to expand

burn all resentment

en este corazón más azul que lava

.

familia blanca,

it is honorable to find your ancestors

to risk all hair skin teeth by flame to reach them

clutch their hands stained by blood, theirs and ours,

it is honorable to pray for your ancestors

that their deeds be given back to the earth to rest

it is honorable to reteach your children

to sing and dance the ways of water

cuz they will continue this ritual to heal a lineage of destruction

continue this ritual to rebirth

it’s a long road home

longer than this generation

.

.

.

familia mestiza, earth rainbow,

es brillante

to keep on steppin’

paso a paso de la tortuga

to keep on bleedin

proof of ancestry still celestial

to keep on singing

self-taught language to call in tomorrow

to keep on loving

our hearts strong as they are wide…we fit galaxies

xiutecuhtli

December 10, 2011

the young blue fire

gave me a name

by looking inside his chest

taking out a thread

cutting it in ome, two,

gave me one

and ate the other.

xiuxochimeh

el flor de el fuego azul

and a yellow hummingbird darted,

continuing its journey–many messages unborn.

.

.

i sit with a blue fire, still young, not yet huetlhuetltero,

licking the inside of my belly,

flicking an eye against my lungs,

jabbing a small hot foot between my ribs,

and i sit with this young,

llanto. i cry.

el agua de sal washing my belly

but never allowed to enter,

this young grows stronger

more painful with breast tender.

I have no desire to take breath away

or make my breath too harsh–taking life,

but how can i continue to carry

young blue fire

in my belly?

.

.

.

the gestation period de el fuego es largo en el tiempo de l@s gente estelar

pero cuarto en el tiempo de l@s human@s,

longer than el conejo de la luna

shorter than the cut on our mano izqiuerda

.

now i give birth

como no hombre puede

y como cada mujer de arcilla roja

.

la nueva luz

.

let this flame cook our food

let this flame eat our trauma

let this flame warm our ancestors

let this flame sing us our ways

.

tlazocamati

ometeotl

.

 

donde esta Lemuria

December 10, 2011

home.

i wanna go

where do you wanna go?

i wanna go

i wanna go

i don’t even know 

where do you wanna go?

don’t even know if it exists

where do you wanna go?

anymore.

i don’t know where my home is.

i think its where you land when you’ve been floating face up

long enough 

on moon-loved salt water

long enough

to forget this float is habit

long enough 

to giggle at the stars again

and then you’re home.

it’s a shore made from shouting ancestors

having spotted our seastar bellies on the water

they run ahead to make welcome food 

crooked hands smoothed by sand.

.

.

.

didn’t even know when it was time to stand up again

rest from float laughter

didn’t even realize the tree branches overhead meant

madre tonantzin come to claim us again

didn’t have time to look at each other and see

we’ve been here in each other’s eyes this wombdark time

i never left home.

.

i just fell asleep for a very long time.

.

i don’t remember falling asleep, but i remember some moments before.

.

toothed-jaw strong hunger breath, clenching my belly tight and tender

wolf carried me to the place where an oath was taken and a stone found

under the cedar tree.

my hair fell blue upon the snow-

a prayer for grandmother river bearing our dreams,

warm teeth placed me under cedar trunks, sleep.

i felt blood from the inside and saw a few drops that were not my moon alone,

wolf, bleeding as she bent her head, turned to limp not leap

.

.

.

cuando me  desperté,

i see pink tracks dancing in the snow.

wolf

becoming deer

it is no surprise

i put my face to the two-toed truth

bend my mouth into a song-

the next step i remember

.

     +

+ + + +

     +

.

my trail through forests brought me to the sea

a few hundred years of circles later,

and -Sha, always kind to the dying

took me as an apprentice

gave me this dream

a clay mound slipping out into spiral

with a pow-wow song filling out nose

open naked hands to receive 

herman@s estelar

curled hungry in raindrops

gifts from sky 

mixing in earth

we are born-

savagely sweet

darker than heat

and carrying the beat.

 

 

ghostfarts

October 18, 2011

There be some ghostfarts roaming under the couch

meetings held in closet corners

and just behind the bathroom door

in the one spot the broom can never reach.

There be some ghostfarts still huddling under the altar

whirling behind the headboard of my bed

and humming warm just under the fridge.

Been trying to scare them ghostfarts out with roar of a vacuum

or flat blade of lola’s walis tambo

but they just keep floating through…

they whisper names of nights taken

and the takers of these nights

they form shapes of nightmare interludes,

the kind that keep us going reminding us we can wake up.

.

but i don’t want anymore ghostfarts in this box

but maybe the only way to be fart free

is to cut the corners off

round out the house

make tipi.

let go the fridge, the bed, the couch and tables,

no more underneath if there’s nothing there cover.

baggage must be checked cuz we don’t have much space in these speedy-up times

our pod travels lite-ning-quick to reach more hearts for wake-up call…

so wake up wake up wake up we miss you! cries goddess

from waters deep in our bowl

word travels fast, but heartbeats faster

and

i

love

you

.

i

bless

and

release

you

.

ruby throated

September 3, 2011

yellow hummingbird, come home

yellow hummingbird, come home

yellow hummingbird, come home

.

circle of hunger

not just for food

but for crow’s nest

unconditional love

the kind that could read minds

and hear the tears even in deep sleep

hunger for dreams

open to the ancestors

funneling lessons

into minds’ eye open ear bellies

hunger for peace

the kind not even graves know

but those living long enough guarantee it’s here

with a passing street wink

hunger for day

giving way to a tumbling desire

for night–

the day of the spirits

where our paths are recounted

and fledglings gather witness, twigs snapping

ears flapping

.

calling on blue sky wolf, blue sky wolf, blue sky wolf

i’ll sing the last song you taught me just before you left

you left without leaving me behind

i’m still humming, but now i’ve forgotten the exact shapes,

it’s threadbare and losing form as the moccasins on my feet

the sand is forming lumps under my soul

been now a baktun of moons since

you first taught me this song

.

i never did find you

until i found myself

a bridge to owl’s dreams

opened each time i hummed these cries

a lover’s last battle cry during a sunset just like yesterday’s and tomorrow’s

a bridge the color of rainbow just before the rain pauses

.

east: huitzilopotchli amarillo

west: huitzilopotchli amarillo

north: huitzilopotchli amarillo

south: huitzilopotchli amarrilo

.

i think you still remember my other names

i hope you can whisper them in my sleep

then i can pretend i remembered them on my own

i feelflyfree one is

dancing two-medicine crow

.

follow

May 14, 2011

i follow

i follow you

deep sea baby

i follow you

.

all i need to hear

when runnin deep run wide

me blue flowing moon

river

all i needed to hear

turning back to look down the path so dark

not sure which way i’m looking

up or down

inside or out

. many spirits

more glowing in wing

with voices of marimbas breath of fireflies

tendrils roots gathering from above

in violet third eye hues

(don’t be offended my half-budded love,

i work best at night)

when waking dead are not stumbling about…

.

i i follow

i follow you

deep sea baby

i follow you

.

as i run high

runnin deep

run wide

to sea of mama

no more beds of trauma

the forests i pass under

bending easy under

star family still watching under

visions unbreathed

i am held

always held

and no longer held

by abductors in passing

eyes milky with tears unpassed cuz their mothers died long before mine.

.

my womb is no longer host for boys lost mistaken for found

my womb is my own

which is to sing

my womb is the seat of (god)dess

and now womb

we can dance

we can speak in languages silent and deeper than any unforked tongue

yes we will dance

because we always could

now is the time.

a hora esa…

tlazocamati

i follow you

ms.

April 23, 2011

“spare any change, miss…?”

eyes catch that spirit glow.

miss.

ms.

mis-taken

missshapen

miss understood.

ms.

missinterpreted

miss-took for she her he and them

missiles misfired.

ms.

“what’s goin’ on, girl?”

shake my head

gettin heavy on that warrior tread

oh now i’m just pissed off.

and i’m stalkin my own shadow in streetlight

becoming extinct

can barely handle this old trembletrauma

6 weeks since the last peep.

don’t know why these men got me stressin’

triggered 5 year old guns blazin’

i don’t wanna embody my mama’s bruised body

did i really cut up this body to forget this blessed circumstance

where street violence in slurred pick-up lines smooth out

wrinkles in my battle dress

trippin’ over Her curves

and She’s left broken invaded

and Girl’s got nothin to hold onto but survival

and Lady’s first nightmare is wakin’ in uncle’s too big hands

and

He’s not gonna save us

and His swagger won’t get us away any faster

and coating our arms and hips in Him

won’t relieve us with silence

cuz when that Boy passes by

Men will still catcall

drunken with hetero fantasies of tomorrow

but the delicious reality is–

They are still gay today

and

I have never been anythin’ but

but queer always rang more dear

and now well

sacred clowns are singin in my wrapped head

somethin’ bout

We didn’t even try

but You’re the wise fooled again

into loving yourself and finally hitting on the perfect

One.

cuz this Spirit just got a little bit redder

and a little bit hotter

and a little bit more molten

and some healing has got

to

blow

up

.

annual

March 23, 2011

may i please step up and down

ometeotl

may i please wrap cloth blood drown

ometeotl

may i please turn fire into breath

ometeotl

there is only mayhem in this plea for death

ometeotl

so i’m washing my cheeks lips and bowels with tears brown

in this ancestral rumble

and i’m flowin heart sign reppin’ loud n proud

cuz loving these ways-

traditions painful to walk

always creatora-bound red road waxing rainbow-

these ways

their ways

now ours always have been loving

and in loving we are most loving ourselves myself.

i’ll sit patiently in rehab like eagles remembering talons

among familia sorta familiar

counting threads to weave for this two-spirit dream of family

before the separation hair. cut. colonization.

before it was deadly to love

you in me

and me in you.

tlatzocamati

nacimiento de guerrer@ 2/2

February 3, 2011

the gemel@ de estrella

came to help

they dropped by in their own ways

but one, made of corn and moon power,

had a few more moments for a bleeding sisterbrother

…with laughter to wash to my hair

they scooped up my sacred pieces

spooned them back into my mouth

and speaking i found myself walking into another morning

.

puehr tea aged in the earth’s mouth

spirits the shape of tree roots sitting in hir tea-th

woke me up stirred my next pot of self-love

sent me to a phoenix’s door,

the only phoenix for now,

and leather sent mid-husbandwife Yo is–

ze took me in from my journey

,still rain-pleated and panting,

ze graciously took my request my offering of ignorance

offering of faith

and listened

listened for the hummingbird heartwingbeat

found it restless nesting in my sacrum

and with prayer precision

opened connection with slice

source flowed in flowed out

medicine sang in medicine sang out

lava bellowed in lava heaved out

each bloodstring for each womb my death touched touched my life

and hot sun rays shot as the phoenix talon continued to cut

star’s smallest strongest warrior wishes to fly

.

i finally gave way

to twins

.

isn’t she beautiful aren’t they beautiful?

cried the phoenix

.

yes

yes we are beautiful

blood prints para mi altar

.

smudge smudge smudge

Aho

we old and remembering it

Aho

we building a drum and remembering it

Aho

we making dances and lovin it

Aho

we singin songs and breathin it

.

scrub with salt each day after

scrub the blood with salt

for each mourning cramp

this is only the beginning.

nacimiento de guerrer@ 1/2

February 3, 2011

i don’t know where to begin

maybe because i have always been am is.

all around me was giving birth

birth to acceptance

birth to death

birth to resistance

.

after dipping my hands into a womb of unborn

and after swallowing tangerine sun yolksfreshhardbrownshells

i dropped

dropped to pachamama’s beckoning turn

a turn slower than sleepless nights

deeper than dreamdrunk flights

dropped sideways so all shoulder hip leg temple

magnetized by earth’s core

through 6 floors of coughing refrigerators and still dustpans

.

i don’t remember much after that

.

except for the shaking that held so hard it sat me up

up and planted

sacrum first

than palms of feet

souls of hands,

knees pointed to stars crown plugged in here now

ready set go

push or be pushed

the bouncing in one hand spread to the rest and

vibrating, an earthquake only the diameter of me.

.

no creature mamas to be called

i was to be alone with sun and earth on this one

.

my call was answered

and with deep caves hollowing my lungs

from the earth sacrum mine spine throat up

a sound that felt like a scream

but vibrated gold sacred

and thick too

so rooted, not even clenched teeth could stop it

the labor cry just kept streaming

tiny volcano vent i became

an entire planet’s sigh

slammed into human blood

a smoke signal to la familia de estrella

to please come

come and hold onto mama’s hips as she gathers her

talons and lava,

talons and lava.

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