wama

29.11.08

2008-11-29T03:54:00.001-08:00

I am slithering up the west side of a waterfall full with birds and pinwheels and flowers. a wise woman hovers on the east side. At first I think she is speaking with the birds and flowers passing by, floating down the slope. then I realize she is speaking to me. I can’t really hear her. I lean forward straining. she too leans forward. she has something important to tell me.

“go slow.”

she says more -- there are more words -- but they all mean the same thing.
“slow down.”
“cuidete”
“calmete”
“poco a poco”

she sees me from across this river of flowers and pinwheels and birds, falling falling falling over a cliff, and she knows everything.

I strain to hear each word as though I will find the key or the final puzzle piece -- but all that echoes in my head is “go slow.”

27.11.08

2008-11-27T03:45:00.000-08:00

I am a tree
I’m hiding in the woods in the dark of night waiting. noone can see me for what I am because tonight I’m a tree. I look out into the shadows and see the ghosts and fantasmas flying around. some are fat like beach balls, others whispy at the bottom and bulging at the top. others wear capes and have no shape at all -- they are air itself. the smell me but don’t see me and after a minute of consideration they decide to live and let live and they go about their ghostly things. I am waiting for daylight so I can leave my tree for other horizons. I will roll myself up in a small ball, roll down the trunk and come out the bottom of the tree.

25.11.08

2008-11-25T03:36:00.001-08:00

mi dia del nombre y hay una chica sin cabeza. ella esta corriendo por el fondo -- a playas, arena suave y caliente. se fue de otra mujer, pero ella la vieja caminando lento, lento.
como siempre hay arboles - un bosque denso y alto. el bosque esta atras -- y las mujeres mueven adelante. no hay nada enfrente de ellas, ni un arbol, ni un mar, solo una linea recta abajo de sus pies.

2008-09-25T09:21:00.000-07:00

septiembre :: cuatro

2008-09-24T09:19:00.000-07:00

4.
in the shadow of the volcano I kneel. I kneel on a rock and look down and out. I offer something of myself to the sea around me and to the lava pushing up up up from the center core to the brimming edge. all this activity behind me, but I am still and searching humbly. I am very very small. everything else is big and dramatic, colossal. massive rivers flood, winds whirl and turn somersaults, lava gushes. I look closely at a pebble, next to another pebble and another. I kneel and I float. I see stars.

septiembre :: tres

2008-09-23T09:19:00.000-07:00

3. a fish is the sea. the sea is a cloud. the cloud billows like smoke. a woman hides in the folds of the cloud and raises her hands to float up. her face is calm but surprised. below the cloud, at the bottom of the sea, crowding around the fish’s mouth is a town of people as small as ants. they have just begun a great expedition and the look to the lady in the sky for guidance. they wish their way to outstreached arms and floating surprised eyes.

septiembre :: dos

2008-09-22T09:17:00.000-07:00

2.
you hide in a cave that looks like the trunk of a tree. outside the fox waits. and waits. you will not come out. your back to the exit. you face the deep dark inside of the tree cave. above your cave on the mountaintop that could be the top branch of a tree, a large bird, let’s call it a hawk, rests and stretches. she spreads her massive wings, looking carefully at each feather as though counting, or as though she knows each one by name and color and placement. she too waits. she and the fox wait for you. you are huddled in a ball and you are never coming out of this cave tree. never.

fast approaching is a witch. well maybe just an ordinary woman with a pointy hat, but a woman and she wears a cape or a big robe. she knows lots of things and she carries this knowledge in the palms of her hands cupped and reaching out towards you and your nest. she has a monkey with her that dances a path clear for her as she comes closer and closer to your lair. you are never coming out, not even for the witch lady and the monkey. though the monkey is cute and adorable, and has a chance of seducing you away from your inner wall. beyond the fox and the witch is a forest. beyond the hawk, the sky. you are in the cave treetrunk you cannot see what is beyond that; but it’s out there. you will stay where you are.

septiembre :: uno

2008-09-21T09:16:00.000-07:00

septiembre

1.
el mundo se rompio. crumbling at your feet. you have left things for too long. you recline on a chez lounge, but the ground beneath is loose and shaken. in the distance beyond the horizon, low to the edge of what you can see and what you can’t, a wisp of smoke whistles up. gathering around it are small boulders, wispy and quiet rolling towards the center, reaching up up up to the tip of the smoke that breathes hot and garbled thruths.

01.09.08

2008-09-01T19:11:00.001-07:00

two mountains face each other
the valley between is deep and dark
thick as mud

one mountain sustains mudslides and avalanches
the other a rooster perches at the very top crowing
his tail like a peacock folded beneath him a blanket over the northern slope

I feel suspended between the two hovering over the valley
head turning right left right left
look down
my heart sinks
I cannot have both
and one without the other does not appeal
but I cannot keep floating here above the two peaks looking down at the long sliding sloping abyss

30.08.08

2008-08-30T19:05:00.000-07:00

you walk one way I another. how did we get so far
and we insist on keeping distance greater. our backs turned
heads held high
but we see the same horizon and we make our way there
our paths will circle forward and we will meet out there where the waves billow next to clouds and the land beckons

the monster that separates us waits till we are out of sight
but she will extinguish herself
and poof she will be gone
a ghost
a wisp of smoke
a damp odor in the back of our mouths

13.07.08

2008-07-13T00:21:00.001-07:00

the world is cracking below and I am standing tall. my neck streches and pretends that 9meters is a normal height for someone like me. you ride a donkey and move away. a swarm of bees await you. they have a house a hive and you insist that it is not there that you can pass without a sting.

10.07.08

2008-07-10T00:23:00.000-07:00

I’m huddled in a tent
it fits me like a fur coat
a bear head
on the outside I am threatening
inside I wait and wait until it’s safe to come out gain.
a girl hunches down by my feet and tries to read the lines around my toes. I tell her it only works with the palms of hands, but she insists she knows me
a parrot sits on a perch by an invisible window and mocks me.

06.07.08

2008-07-06T00:22:00.000-07:00

little you big me
or is it
little me and big you
we are interchangeable

little the wind blows from our backs
big we see for miles and miles and send smoke signals like telepathy
there are mountains in the distance and currents at our feet. but we don’t really notice.

we stand face to face
measuring the distance

17.06.08

2008-06-17T00:26:00.000-07:00

we ride a horse.
we approach a lump or a log and she has to jump.
she rears up on her hind legs and skids to a stop.
you fly over her head tumble, head down, legs up.
my legs grip her sides as she balloons her stomach to stretch the straps of the saddle tight around her keeping me upright

people run towards us to help you.
are you ok? are you all right?
because your crisis is so grave, so here and now, we ignore all the other flashes of light and smoke and ash. we cannot see the warning signals.

in the distance you imagine yourself a circus performer standing on a dolphin’s back, hand in the air, waves pushing below to give you a wild ride.

16.06.08

2008-06-16T00:25:00.003-07:00

we stand face to face, chest to chest. you are taller, but I stand my ground. I look up to you. you try to look down on me - but you cannot manage it. in fact when I really consider it, I’m bigger and stronger but you have more will. you make yourself big you puff up your chest. you pull your arms back. you stand on a step.

we have an audience.
witnesses. they look on distracted, non committal.

the ground beneath us looks solid, but beneath the surface if you look carefully you can see the fault lines. you can see that it will soon crumble. and where will we be then.

can we fly
can we float
can we forget
can we reach out and up
and still keep our feet steady

10.06.08

2008-06-10T00:41:00.000-07:00

the genie has left the bottle.
she is fizzy and light bubbles in the air. her face is quiet and calm. she wears a hat with feathers at the top. she looks like she will spin and spin and spin for us, arms stretched out and legs pointed.

09.06.08

2008-06-09T00:39:00.000-07:00

we are not only underwater but at the the very bottom of the sea. we are very small at the bottom of the sea. you sit with your back against a long tall coral pushing up towards the top the ceiling of water held down heavy by the sky. you bring your knees to your chest and wrap your hands around thighs and fingers clasp on top of kneecaps. me I’m across from you, slouching against a rock. I can’t get comfortable really and sometimes I turn upsidedown so my feet are higher than my heart draping over the rock and I can look up and pretend the ripples above are stars or planets instead of water, water and more water.

behind you a giant slumps around walking lazy and languid like some cool cat from the 1970s. his giant feet thunder and small creatures scramble to get out of the way. we are glad we are on the other side of things. he has a monster friend who is closer to his size than any other creature in the sea, so they have decided not to lay their quarrels aside and stick together. maybe they are on their way to a movie or something -- they seem more casual than angry. we small things at the bottom of the sea take this as a good thing. we can sit calmly for some time, just shoot the shit and not worry about big monsters and giants throwing fists at one another making our lives misery.

07.06.08

2008-06-07T05:51:00.000-07:00

the people here live in trees. they cook, the eat, they play -- they do everything in the trees. they live at the edge of the moon and the earth crumbling. but they are long and tall and elegant and move so slowly that for them there are no real catastrophes.

05.06.08

2008-06-05T05:51:00.000-07:00

in my armored robe I pretend to be a samarai and I walk
I walk away
but as my robe is heavy with scalloped metal like shells and waves I move so slowly
each step a century to complete like a rock or a mountain
I seems solid standing
still here.
just my head turns away from your theatrics

03.06.08

2008-06-03T05:50:00.000-07:00

it’s a comet swirling capturing stars and dust
the comet says something new.
she says, restart.
she says - take this step and another - you stick around long enough it can happen to you too. to be as old as a star, a flash of light
then poof.
her tail is feathery
her center delicate a spot you can put your finger on
raging and spinning
then open sky

look
right there
see it.

31.05.08

2008-05-31T09:10:00.000-07:00

even the ghosts are explosions.
a volcano.
the smoke and ash.
cliché by now.
a haze instead of clouds
is there something beautiful to see in this full moon and wisp of a horizon.
and outside drop drop drop
pouring rain

29.05.08

2008-05-29T09:08:00.000-07:00

there is a queen on the top of the hill. she tips a baby off the cliff with one finger. “go, fly” she says. she is not very convincing. the baby is strong and resourceful and protected by something bigger than the queen. so she jumps and hopes to fly.

the hill beneath the royal one is crumbling to the sea.

the people below gather and sing. they are ready to catch the baby but then know it is just a formality. the baby will fly and their voices will carry her high.

22.05.08

2008-05-22T08:05:00.000-07:00

el arbol vive. ya vive. son brazos por ramas, y dos torsos abrazando -- el arbol vive. los raices un rio.

way back when

2008-05-19T15:41:00.001-07:00

remember so long ago when we read our fortunes in your parents salon.
you had a choice between the forest and trees and life outdoors and the art world a gallery with lots of frames hanging on the wall. and at that moment you wanted to go camping. you have all the gear a tent a tea pot and you love to keep a fire burning low.

and my light before me is a woman standing with a baby in her arms at the edge of a cliff… or this is how I like to remember it. and when I press my thumb to the bottom to change my fates, another baby an embryo. I cannot escape this biology. but I know by the scarf flowing in the wind and the way the woman stands that it is not me, but a friend who wants more than anything to be nurturing and a mom. and wehre will I be when she needs me … this is what I see. somewhere at the beginning of it all, where will I be.

it was so long ago but here we are and those things have come our way and we stand before them ready to make decisions or having already made them.

13.05.08

2008-05-13T15:46:00.000-07:00

la luna watches over us puzzled. what are we doing climbing one on top of the other someone sure to reach the top first. our path set by a strong flame. nos quema. no quiero ver los detalles. estoy seguro que no significan nada. de verdad vivo en los nubes y no lo siento.

08.05.08

2008-05-09T06:06:00.000-07:00

i wanted to ignore the threads of coffee drowning us in bomb blasts and explosions and eruptions. I wanted to only hear rain and thunder.

I did not drink coffee.
I did not search the bottom of the ocean for you.
I did not say I love you
soon enough

and then the rockets flashed
hear them and then
delay see them on tv
white noise shredding every nerve
so that I prefer the heavy blanket whirring of the tanks rolling round and round
don’t move
don’t go out
don’t
don’t

sit still
very still

listen still
listen
you

still
and then
nothing.

we adjust to nothing
no sound.
no cars
no people
no visitors
no kids playing
no rata tat tat

too nothing
our shoulders reach our ears
brace
can’t lay
down
can’t stand
up

sit
sit
sit
sit

sit

inside my head I scream and yell
you hear it in my eyes
thousands of miles away

29.04.08

2008-04-29T05:44:00.001-07:00

porque tan triste. te sientas sola. rodillas a tu pecho. mirando al cielo abajo y los rios arriba. extraño, extraño.

27.04.08

2008-04-27T05:43:00.000-07:00

fireworks and canonblasts. just as it is in crete. rising rising up. indeed.

26.04.08

2008-04-26T05:34:00.001-07:00

el bosque te llore.

25.04.08

2008-04-25T05:33:00.000-07:00

you sit floating on a flame. you listen carefully as some wiseguy tells you a thing or two. you nod your head but you don’t’ understand a thing he says. he is so wise. you hear a blast behind you. turn you head, and only smoke.

24.04.08

2008-04-24T05:31:00.000-07:00

the curtain opens. it is your coat held wide. a book open to the right page. the wall of a house with window boxes filled with flowers blooming shyly.

23.04.08

2008-04-23T05:31:00.000-07:00

an old man a Shepard with a cloak over his shoulder and a long staff in his hand. he pushes on and his flock follows. remember the sheep + goats grazing in the bluffs above our swimming spot in Batroun?

even a 9 meter wall cannot discourage us. but a volcano, maybe. the earth crumbling beneath us a mosaic, also may slow us down.

22.04.08

2008-04-22T05:30:00.000-07:00

why do I insist there is something to be found here. your face in the side of a mountain. monkeys, bats, peacocks and monsters crawling crawling crawling up to the clouds. a handsome warrior princess waits behind the last plateau.

why is it always mountains and swift waves of the sea below?

17.04.08

2008-04-17T01:52:00.001-07:00

they have an argument. a dog that is a griffin and a blob that is neither human nor animal more like a big rock. not a mountain, a big rock. and between their piercing words there is a gap like a ravine with water trickling thru it. when the blob speaks her words are tiny miniture people, acrobats and clowns -- the circus has come to town - these are her words: a beautiful girl on a trapeze, a strongman clutching the edge of the cliff with one hand and one foot he leans out and in his other hand he holds another beautiful girl with hair flowing and she begins her routine balanced on a slab of wood teetering on a round round ball -- we wait for her to do handstands and back bends. the dog barks back airplanes and spitballs. this is hardly a fair fight.

below the crowds watch in wonder.

16.04.08

2008-04-16T01:51:00.000-07:00

I am a shooting star. you too. volamos por el cielo profundo. el cielo es tambien el mar y estamos nadando suave y rapido con las olas y el viento.

our destination a crescent of land, la luna con un abrazo grande y abierto. there she waits for us. desde aqui, far from land pero tan cercano que podemos a verla, we move our arms more briskly, we kick our feet 1-2 1-2 uno dos tres cuatro and we know we will get there soon -- vamos a llegar vamos a llegar.

15.04.08

2008-04-15T14:17:00.000-07:00

i cannot read this now. no puedo entender nada -- bas I know hay algo magnificente en los molinos -- es una pintura, una pelicula -- pero solo un momento o como un fragmento de mi dia, mi vida, mis sueños, si? el momento: I turn the cup upside-down. mi dia: I sit on the balcony watching the neighbors carry their trash to the dumpster and back; mis sueños: iza kil yom bikun mitil lyom -- I sit drinking coffee on my balcony searching to see a strip of sea hiding behind the trees past the school playground on the other side of the ring road that separates one section of town from the next, that leads to a set of dying stairs, to the small one way street, that runs into my house yellow with red shutters and whispers to me, come on, come on -- shway shway.

los angeles

2008-04-13T14:13:00.003-07:00

11.04.08

2008-04-11T14:13:00.000-07:00

a big huge three pronged crown fills up almost every breathable space. the head below it is dark and featureless. sometimes the face is a monkey, sometimes a lion -- but mostly just a huge ugly mud puddle.

despite the sovereign mud puddle taking up a lot of space, there are children who are also gazelles who play at the edge of a mountain and forest. the trees behind them embrace their games. they laugh and jump and scream -- ha ha ha ha ha… weeeeeeee! they just ignore the shadow tall and imposing bearing down on them.

08.04.08

2008-04-08T14:12:00.000-07:00

una fantasma she sits, lays down, reclines. en sus brazos a big blob of something. y en la distancia un dibujo muy lindo, muy suave como Japanese scrolls and screens. a mountaintop -- la cima. a bird maybe an owl large on a a treebranch out of proportion with the mountain. I think black cloud, small but serious. and two people traveling walking wandering but we do not see their feet, just torsos and heads moving towards the mountain and the owl with a wispy floaty gait. nuestra fantasma miralo todo desde abajo.

06.04.08

2008-04-06T14:11:00.000-07:00

de repente, te no conozco. empiezas a cambiar. ya ahora, pareces tu como todo -- como alguien, cualquier alguien. sin caracteristicas bien interesantes… quizas son guapas o lindas -- pero no hay nada, ni ningun detalla de tu cara, tus ojos, tus labios, la boca, la nariz -- nada nada de ti, nada que puedo reconocer. lo mismo de todos -- como alguien, cualquier alguien.

puedo ver una casa en la distancia. una casa hecho de piedras -- no mas como hecho de dos montañas, y ya. hay un rio que corriendo abajo de la casa y sube sube sube al otro lado y al mismo momento, el agua cayendo del otro lado. y ya.

what I mean to say is that you are gone.

4.04.08

2008-04-04T14:11:00.000-08:00

running corriendo whey. and shouting. and singing. hey. running. singing. shouting. and the other people they are climbing a cliff. but you run on a mountain range easy strong and big nothing can stop you singing, shouting corriendo whey. there is a big bird in the sky an airplane arriving and an eagle leaving. you shout to the plane/bird you sing a welcome song -- you run after her. hey hey wait for me. under your feet the land plays a trick and is not land at all not a mountain, not a earth, but a big huge scorpion watching you as you run, shout and sing. his tail is resting. keep on running, girl and sing, please sing.

april fools

2008-04-01T14:08:00.001-08:00

you are sleeping.
like a coma
like rip van winkle
like the dead. only you are not dead, you are not sick in a hospital and you will wake before a century has passed. you just lay there. asleep and I cannot wake you. your head droops down below your shoulders because you do not have a proper pillow. you sleep on the mesa of a mountain. and you wait. the mesa is just that a table to hold you steady and wait for the day when you rise and rub your eyes, awake.

april fools

2008-04-01T14:08:00.000-08:00

26.03.08

2008-03-26T13:44:00.000-08:00

flower blossom and bubble. rain streams down in rivers straight ruled. my head hangs low as I leave this place. the flowers cushion my trek, but going in never easy.

25.03.08

2008-03-25T13:40:00.001-08:00

he sits and watches by the shore. his elbow on his knee, other hand on hip he waits. the ground beneath us crumbles and cracks. you kneel far in the backgound, looking up to see me hovering and floating above. you resemble orion, ready to shoot your arrow, always on guard. my skirt billows, my arms ourstreached, I dance and hold a thick black cloud above my head. the cloud gives off steam and attracts streams of moisture from the land below. in this canyon we wonder if we can hold on for as long as it will take.

25.03.08

2008-03-25T13:40:00.000-08:00

24.03.08

2008-03-24T13:38:00.000-08:00

a bird flies away, a girl runs behind holding a string, the bird is a kite flying low. they are at the edge of the forest and beyond that last wall of trees there is no telling what will come next. behind her a tree foks like a road and a Buddha turns her back to look out over an open expanse below two looming camel hump cliffs.

23.03.08

2008-03-23T11:01:00.000-08:00

too many things going on to see much. two women across separated by a thick dark evil eye a sea. except for the distance and the murky desert between them they are the same woman. one dressed as a princess with flowing curls down to her ankles stands facing front with her arms open flung at her sides. she turns her head to avoid the bright sun and to appear as though she knows where she’s going -- “that way, I’m headed that way.” and she would travel except that her gown is too cumbersome. she cannot move not one step. she is stuck there in the constant stance of someone about to leave.

in her future, she cuts her hair, releases herself from the prison of fabric and sits apart from the world on a mountaintop looking out at a volcano below. her house is a simple shelter that covers her head but is precariously set on the rocks below.

across the way the other woman wears a simple dress as though she is in the house. we can’t see her legs but she also is planted. her right fist is raised and she looks meaningfully to her left poised to fight the good fight. her left hand is also raised more out of fear than solidarity. if she could run she would. her head tilts up to the heavens pleading.

in her future, she walks as a traveler up a mountain path carrying only one small bag over her shoulder. before her is a small house/hut light coming from the open door, welcome and waiting.

these two women are connected by the surrounding open horizon and the teardrop shaped like a fist that protects them.

21.03.08

2008-03-21T11:06:00.000-08:00

we leave this place and go to santorini, atlantis the lost world. a crescent of rock and ash wrapped around a volcano. we hover above the highest point in the island with views of the caldera on one side and the open sea on the other. we can see each tip clearly but we turn our backs to east and west and face each other. you over there. me here. I look at you over there, waiting, sitting on a rock with your elbows on your knees. waiting for me. waiting. you are calm and hopeful -- tho sometimes a bit bored with the situation. and me, I’m crouching with my stomach down against a boulder as though hiding in plain sight. or I’m hugging the stone as though I just climbed a cliff to be here. we face each other but we cannot see each other at all. I know you are there. you know I am here. between us is a thick cloud of smoke and a long stone wall. the wall is not high, it is just there to mark the boundaries of this land here and that land there. I sit behind this wall. beyond the stone wall there is a two headed monster made of smoke and ash bubbling out of a chink in the wall. the head that faces me hovers above and wraps a finger around me protectively. I don’t feel any safer, just claustrophobic. your head looks determinedly at your scalp looking for a flaw, a mite, one hair out of place. its as though she wants to scold you, but you look past her -- this is not something serious, and is not really what separates us. riding just above the shoulders of the monster scolding protecting, a pyramid-like puffy cloud spurts sparklers and fireworks. a bright light guides us. your sun, my moon.

20.03.08

2008-03-20T11:01:00.000-08:00

is it you or is it me?
well one or both of us is stomping away with big strong strides forward. there is no path before us -- wide open. wide open. fresh and clean. wide open, wow.

we blaze a trail of fire - feet gush flames -- with each step.

you or I speak in fire to test the way ahead. a back pack bulges off our shoulders. below there are beautiful girls - one a bird, the other a fish -- asking : “where are you going? why are you leaving me so soon?” behind, behind, behind are all the doubts and worries and ghosts. my hair is short and under your arm you carry the sun and the moon like a pillow or a soccer ball. we push ahead no matter what the mermaid and bird-girl below say to coax you/me to stay.

19.03.08

2008-03-19T11:09:00.001-08:00

ayer lei las tazas de dos otras.
para la chica, las molidas dicen:

tu vayas y es un tiempo muy light
pero tu cuerpo anda por un camino y tu cara por otro. estas mirando atras a una tierra bonito y amplio con montañas y llanos y para ti el cielo con las estrellas, la luna, los nubes -- todas celestial esta atras. y hay un gusano muy sabido -- el te espera pero el tambien mirando alfrente … el veo tu camino.

al frente de ti: un bosque con raices muy ciertos y fuertes. los arboles son grandes y altos -- es un bosque bien viejo. y tu cuerpo anda alla, vas al bosque. los arboles tambien son personas y ellos te saludan: hola que tal. ven aca mijita. te esperando. el bosque de arboles/personas tiene una densidad familiar y agradable y puedes quedar alla por un rato, quizas años… pero tu camino continua al otro lado de los arboles/personas saludadas. el camino esta, pero lo que te espera afuera del bosque no esta bien claro. es un lugar de fog y nubes -- pero no es una malediccion. al contrario es una invitacion.

despues, ella lo pongo su dedo en la taza:

la fundacion del bosque ahora no es tan cierto, tan estatico. ahora se parece mas como un mar fluido con olas que mueven en la direccion del camino tuyo.

para el hombre:

hay un arbol grande y fuerte, verde un pino -- como el cedar? grande grande con raices fuertes y saludos. a la cima del arbol hay un eagle con sus brazos outstretched. preparando a volar. pero ya no vuela. y los nubes son muy debajos no hay visibilidad -- el eagle no puede ver el cielo, ni su ruta. espera a la cima, ha preparado.

abajo, a la izquierda del arbol grande grandisimo, hay un mono. el sube una rama muy estrecha y delgada al lado del arbol. el mono mirando al aguila con confianza. el no hace nada, pero su presencia es como una motivacion para el aguila. una necesidad por su vuelo que viene… de pronto.

al otro lado hay bombas. hay fuego. y un choco de gente juntos, corriendo en la marcha. pero todo esta en la distancia --- muy lejos del arbol y el vuelo que viene.

15.03.08

2008-03-18T04:08:00.000-08:00

you walk away. Hands behind your back
caminando … alla. Manos atras.

Desde tus manos un scorpion sube tu espalda con milliones de piernas y brazos
Al fin, llega a tu oreja -- y habla en una voz subterranean con palabras inconstante, palabras de aviso pero --- tu no tienes confianza no lo crees tu.

If you just walked down to the shore you would find a dazzling starfish waiting there for you with better news.

16.03.08

2008-03-16T04:07:00.000-08:00

the moon smiles. Una sonrisa como un rocket brillante y con fuerza. She smiles and the waves and mountains greet her hello… hola guapa.

At the edge of the word the sun the sky the sea and land all meet and whisper about the moon’s beautiful smile. “what would we do without her?” they ask each other and nod their heads. Then shake them, because they think of their world a dark cave without her shining.

13.03.08

2008-03-13T11:00:00.000-08:00

mountain lions bird flying bullets you screaming for help your arms branches of a tree -- a balloon going up + up a man on a horse, skinny like Don Quoixote approaches -- tells you -- ‘it’s okay it’s okay.’ an arrow finds your knee.

ow.

09.03.08

2008-03-09T09:26:00.003-08:00

you lay on your back -- a divan supports you. A voice, a fairy, a devil floats behind you whispering in your ear. You keep your back to him. Above, in front, ontop of you a cloud, a spook a witch an old woman scares you with her warnings while she pushes into you your legs open wide --- but you face scared then calme then enjoying it then angry and jaw set to push her off but you like it so nothing moves or changes.

A girl dances arms high celebrates she carries water + bread on her head she cannot see what you see. Behind her a tree or a river -- and a proud explorer a the summit waves a flag. He tries to get your attention -- sends smoke signals. You small the smoke but can’t find the message.

03.03.08

2008-03-03T03:52:00.006-08:00

hay una mujer con una niña. Ella le adora su bebe nueva.
Hay un choco de madonas alrededor la casa. En cada rincon, muro y puerto. Ella nos cuida.
de la noche cuando dormimos, a la mañana -- nos despierta; y por la tarde -- ella esta cuidandonos como la mujer con la niña pequeña, limpia, brillante.

me queria tener confianza.

02.03.08

2008-03-02T12:02:00.000-08:00

guns in the air. Red flares litter the dark sky. I walk by the river and hear pounding not far enough away. A blast throws sand up and out. Snoopy on his dog house flying to meet the red baron. If only it was as simple as digging a trench and facing the enemy.

leapyear

2008-02-29T08:18:00.001-08:00

There’s a party and you want to be invited but you also want to sleep and you wish they would just keep it down those rowdy neighbors. They are dancing and singing and you are holding your pillow tightly dreaming of dolphins jumping out of the sea and submerging again. Teasing you to swim out to meet them. And out in the distance there’s a big hunk of metal threatening us and a bunch of teenagers lighting forest fires.

27.02.08

2008-02-27T10:39:00.000-08:00

two queens stand across from one another.

One stands sideways, dark black night she holds her head high a massive crown blooms from her temples. Her cigarette burns a trail of smoke protects her from head to toe. She is a flood a tear of blackness deep and sad. Her castle wall circles the lake of her body hinting at a road to travel round and out fading into a far away somewhere.

The other queen faces front. Arms outstretched, palms out by her sides, she is open and fair. Her body a mountain, her gown cascading forests dense with evergreens. But her face is faint and a bit blank. Two eyes a mouth and nothing more to distinguish it. Her crown more like a hat pointing skyward. From her shoulders down she glows and vibrates her skirts becoming wings -- she hovers and floats her head above the clouds.

Ayer

2008-02-22T03:42:00.002-08:00

Cada semana le rompio algo en la cocina.
Hoy no puedo leer mis molinos de café porque mi taza cayò por el piso
-- CRASH --
muy dramatico fue
y ahora enterra en fragmentos, rayos ceramico en la basura.

Otro dia no se que de febrero

2008-02-21T03:09:00.002-08:00

La reina se mira por el espejo llorandose. El espejo esta oscuro como la tierra o la noche que viene. Ella se sienta y llora. Lleva una corona sencilla y su cabello esta escondido atras de su cuello elegante. Sus gotas diluvian por su vestido largo -- como un rio de tela y lagrimas. El rio mana por un lago pequeno abajo de las pies de la reina. Es un lago con olas y pescados que brincando. Brincando.

Sometimes I just want you to understand me. I insist that you speak Spanish that we can share some language that is not this harsh brusque thing they use for business transactions. La lengua de los pinche gringos. But I will speak it for you if you will speak it for me. and one day I’ll answer your beautiful flowing español with a rich thick arabe that does not hurt your ears.

But for now you just need to know that the queen is crying -- her mirror shows nothing but black skies and she cries a river that melts into a small lake below her feet under her skirt. The lake has waves and fish. The fish and the waves jump.

un dia no se que de febrero

2008-02-18T02:52:00.002-08:00

caminando.
Tu estas caminando. Tus brazos atras, en tus manos llevas los rosarios como llevas el mundo tan pesado. Con cado paso tus pies se dejan caer en la tierra. Pero, abajo de ti, abajo de tus pies, hay un mono que parece un leon que te lleva. El anda contigo, te protejando y llevandote porque hay un camino larga adelante.

14.02.08

2008-02-14T08:35:00.004-08:00

una nube pura redonda colga como un globo
hay una niña abajo -- le mirando con una intensidad que mueve su cuerpo back back back. Ella se sienta arriba de un arbol mini que parece una seta. Hay un perrito cerca de una flor pequinita y el ole con la misma intensidad que la niña mirando al globo-nube.

Y sobre todo hay lluvia --- constantemente -- torrencial --- terrible-hermosura.
Si hay.

13.02.08

2008-02-13T03:50:00.000-08:00

A flame grand and blooming pulls you to it. You run at it, arms high above your head. Soak it in. the flames looks at you seriously assesses the situation, scolds you for coming so late. Then whispers one word. ¿ Escuchas?

Under your feet thick black sand dunes sway and empty out. Un hueco suave como una cama… will you sleep.

In the distance a flare. Overhead a snake guards you. Something is coming strong.

12.02.08

2008-02-12T08:20:00.001-08:00

you are a princess gliding along the moon turning upsidedown a crescent greeting you :: ahlan :: hola guapa.

Your head crowned with flowers and birds tangled in your hair flowing.

And just ahead
a small mountain lilly whispers for you to come down

:: besame ::

Your chest proud and head high you will consider it.

Two bright stars keep the moon steady for the next cycle.

2008-02-12T08:15:00.000-08:00

Hace años

Hace años no pensaba que enamorar
tengo cuentos de amor sino de pasion.
Mis opciones :: cuentos de amor y afecciones amorosas, cariñosas :: tiernas

Recuerdas cuando encontremos
hace años.

11.02.08

2008-02-11T01:16:00.001-08:00

quiero un descanso de los fuegos, balas y bombas. No quiero a ver una llama mas.

The pit of my stomach roils.
Inquieto mi mente
Hay tension en mis espaldas -- por mi cuerpo

Veo el cielo azul azul
A breeze baila entre las sabanas

Esperamos

08.02.08

2008-02-08T11:21:00.000-08:00

the graph peaks and plummets. A ricter scale, your heartbeat. My emotions. Salto. Cayo. Ahora estamos en un valle. Tranquilo y projetido. Nos sentimos, esperamos. Respiramos.

07.02.08

2008-02-07T11:08:00.000-08:00

three women huddled together. Mountains. Solid thick and independent. One stands hands akimbo a flower emblazoned on her stomach. She gives us her best side -- a profile with hair flowing down shoulders and back. Beside her a sturdy rock woman sitting with legs making a v from her hips out, relaxed, confident. One hand rests behind her neck supporting her head tilted back, the other flares fingers out to punctuate her very important missive. She is speaking is calm, rational tones. She has it under control. The third heap of rock asks questions and sits with her legs crossed, then changes position easily tucking her feet under her, one knee up under her chin the other to the side flat to the earth. She shrugs then stretches her arms out -- her palms open -- wondering wanting. All three smile in their own way. Enjoying the sunny day, the calm breeze. Enjoy each other -- one leaning on the other strong.

05.02.08

2008-02-05T06:38:00.001-08:00

un flor solo crecia y abre sus brazos y su boca amplia. Respira, profunda. Extendia los manos arriba arriba, afuera. Pero todo lentamente, siga siga, slowly slowly.

Porque hay un nubuarron massivo y pesado

-- amenazando --

no tan lejos.

04.02.08

2008-02-04T06:21:00.000-08:00

if I were the Eiffel tower I would stick out my chest and bend my knees and bear the winds and rains and still look fabulous and strong standing on sturdy legs atop fertile ground. In fact I don’t think I would live in paris at all. I would move from there. it’s too grey in the winter and the population takes itself too seriously and are set on humiliating anyone that upsets their idea of ‘how things are.’ I prefer to live someplace warm and welcoming.

But since I’m not the Eiffel tower and we can’t convince her to leave paris for good or even for a vacation, I will go there and climb to the top. And then I will grab my parachute kite

... jump…

And sail away running on a strip of cloud hovering over the city. And even though there is beautiful cheese and wine and bread below I will keep running till I find my way to you there the mountain in the distance coaxing me along. You want to leave, but you say you will wait till I come to make any big move. But you are getting impatient so I wish for a strong wind to propel me. I even start to huff and puff to blow myself along. I think I see your smile as you tap your toes and fingertips in time with my footfall, running, running. To you.

03.02.08

2008-02-03T06:22:00.000-08:00

I am a cactus. One branch stands still hands in pockets looking out at the desert beyond. But there is a wall, an obelisk solid and cryptic directly in front of my nose making it hard to look wistfully at a distant something I don’t know. At my waist I branch off. Back to back there is another reaching, slithering, sniffing self with arched back, long neck and eyes downcast. She, this backside self, rests her head against another cactus nearby shooting straight up to the sky with no hesitation. Up. In the muck below my feet two bulging eyes watch and wait. In the distance I hear cats screeching, yelping, howling and I imagine them piled one on top of the other -- here kitty kitty. Their eyes aglow and big scardy cat. And one with a long long thick bushy tail that wraps around the horizon. And at the bottom of my vision I sit patiently trapped between church pews and you lean over me carefully combing my hair out of my eyes. And saying without saying it : “snap out of it. I love you. Why can’t you look me in the eye.”

01.02.08

2008-02-01T05:59:00.000-08:00

al prinicipio volando, whuy. Arriba arriba.
Ahora, no. parece q resbalando. Abajo. Abajo.
Despues, corriendo whuy.

Hay una aguila en el cumbre a la cima --
esperando por el viento
una brisa
volante
suave
fuerte
profunda
ancha
amplia
suya

31.02.08

2008-01-31T06:07:00.000-08:00

first you saw a bomb and then you decided no it is a tree growing up and up. It’s coming from below not above. A land mine maybe. No you insist a tree. A signpost. A geyser. What’s a geyser doing in the middle of the city? But really you want it to be anything but a bomb dropping down from the sky. Anything but the burst of light and the earth moving beneath it’s thrust and the people running. The animals stand still. This is why you can say it’s a tree a signpost a geyser. The animals do not move. The stand waiting. Frozen. And the sky is crying and the thunderclouds are too late to slow it down.

And in the background, in the back of you mind, an entire section of the dream blacks out. There are hints :: a man playing a long long horn, waves rolling up a mountain like flames but they are water, and a cupola with small windows that then looks like a giant acorn blocking out the sun. and a damsel in distress on a mesa -- but she is far from the ground and nothing will really hurt her so you disregard her, look past her and keep wishing you are wrong about what you see before you. As you watch the sky’s tears stream down.

30.01.08

2008-01-30T06:12:00.000-08:00

You are jumping off a cliff

this is not good.
Ok start over
--hay algo positivo en esta taza --
sí hay.

You are jumping off a cliff out of a building thick and massive solid unmoving. Your body free and happy and ready to plunge into the water below that waits to hold you embrace you, a soft landing -- this is not the swallowing kind of sea. But your face is terrified. Longingly you look back at the heavy mountain block heart brick behind you. Your eyes open wide and sad. How can you leave this but you also look above and beyond it and see something you can’t explain. No one will listen to you but in the distance you see a line of people pushed off the cliff. You would rather jump than be pushed. Your body opens up to the air and pulls you out, up, out… but one foot is still stuck in a foothold --- something between pushing off and gripping tightly.

29.01.08

2008-01-29T06:09:00.001-08:00

a snakey wormy thing with a head like a monkey mocks us. Inhale, a heavy wind pulls us. Exhale, smoke and ash covers us. I ride a camel. But we are not riding now. We sit still on a desert moving like the ocean tossing us slowly, steadily we drift towards the peak of the dune and slide back down. Sand in my eyes and mouth. Breathe deeply and begin again.

28.01.08

2008-01-28T06:05:00.000-08:00

noticias del tiempo :: inundaciones y tormentos del balazos
nubes temblores de tension

flood alert
tres horas de lluvia de balazos
exchange of fire

hail
thunder
alredador la ciudad no hay descanso
no descanses tu
no descanso yo

27.01.08

2008-01-27T09:42:00.001-08:00

a stingray skims the ocean floor. A bat clings to a windowpane as the sun begins to rise.

Thru the haze we see a wise man sits on a hill. We know he is wise because he has on a flowing robe that trails behind his back down to the foot of the mountain. He also sits crosslegged. This is how we recognize him. He has love in his heart and mind but his ideas are bursting up and out. He cannot, he will not keep them to himself. His hands stretch forward to another man with a beard and an impressive head dress. This man is as big as a mountain. With long straight features he looks thoughtful but a bit arrogant. He listens or at least appears to listen. In fact he does not need to listen because he is big, very big. His robe embraces the entire mountain as he leans back and watches the wiseman across from him speak his mind of love and caution. Between them there is a string of beads loosely strung. The beads become a piece of cloth and the wise man holds it slowly fanning a small fire in the gulf between them. A whisp of smoke echoes above their heads.

25.01.08

2008-01-25T07:06:00.000-08:00

a snail’s pace. Slow and slimy tracks keep us hovering above in the balcony of events on the ground.

A princess speaks earnestly with the gorgon-king. Her flowing hair covers her like a gown disappearing into the horizon that whips around like a flame and a diamond burst a lion’s roar. The gorgon’s head is big and painted gaudy with rouge. His arms are wings with scales like a fish flutter about without flight. Behind him a thick serpent-like advisor blows incantations into his ears. Drowning out the sounds of his hollow voice and the pleas of the princess.

2008-01-25T03:15:00.000-08:00

estoy en los nubes.
estoy en el cielo.
volando yo.

mientras ti ti ti ti q ti q ti q ti q ti q ti q ti q ti

estoy en una caverna
estoy en la oscuridad.
erizando yo.

mirando inundaciones de balazos
y tu el amanecer de truenos de explosiones

06.12.07

2007-12-03T08:44:00.000-08:00

mi vida sin ti.

me dijo:
no voy a preocuparte. que te dejo sola aqui en barcelona.
te dije yo:
no, no preocupes.

estoy bien ok
estoy aqui
tu alla

con ojos hermosos -- ey chica, guapa, reina, mia.

24.11.07

2007-11-28T04:31:00.000-08:00

hola guapa.
Estas alla. Y ahora que te pasa. No hay un presidente. El Viejo se fue, finalmente. Nadie esta en cambio de el. Y nadie sabe lo que pasa y lo que ira. Una emerjencia. Nunca usas tu estas palabras. Pero ahora si. Las dices. 6 dias mas. Posponente. Y la vida continua, pero como.

Vamos a encontrarnos en Barcelona con el mar y el viento fresco y la vida del mediterraneo muy fuerte y tranquilo. Tomaramos algo al lado del mar. patatas bravas y chiperones y pretenderamos que todo estara bien. Normal. Otro dia. Y ayer, fuimos a la marseilla y hemos tomado absintas con azucar en llamas. Bailabamos con chicos maghrebjeros.

Estoy aca. Pensando en ti.

28.10.07

2007-11-28T04:28:00.001-08:00

2007-09-28T22:00:00.000-07:00

28.09.07

2007-09-28T19:25:00.000-07:00

Un dia decides
No mas. Ya todo. Lista. Ya

Como.

La juventud
La belleza
La felicidad de una niña chiquitica.

Ay no. chica.
Ya todo. Lista. Ya.

Y el mar
Estas con el mar
Ahora mismo
Floating
Volando whey

Y la vida de los tacos
Las machas
Estamos sin ti aqui aca alli alla
la casa tan tristezona de las machas mas too mas
Kiddo
Baby
Mijita
no

24.09.07

2007-09-24T06:42:00.000-07:00

i stopped thinking about you.
well no.
i could never do that.
but i pushed you out of my mind.
allowed you to stay at the bottom of my throat, near the lungs, close to my heart.

23.06.07

2007-06-23T10:35:00.000-07:00

a hollow mountain risies. A whale crawls the steep north face carrying weary travelers. Can he breath without water. Tall bushy firs + pines stand erect march up the southward face. All go up up up to meet this sage at the top of the mountain peak. No matter for the whale that there is no water. No matter for the trees that they have no legs. On a ledge you stand facing this wise woman, roly poly and open hipped. You spin in circles talking a mile a minute to get it all out. She sits. Quietly. Listens. Leaning closer closer closer to your spinning mess. Below the thick sea waits humming our names.

21.06.07

2007-06-21T10:37:00.000-07:00

a mother and daughter rest. They will walk a long way. But now, they sit huddled close. The little girl whispers something to her mother -- who listens carefully. Kneeling, head tilted down to hear her daughter’s every sigh and breath. A mountain smokes behind them. They way before them is slippery and they will always work to find balance. There is no clear path, just footholds and the sun’s knowing smile greeting moon.

The girl’s story I part nightmare -- Hands to head: oh no.
a girl with braids who becomes a snake a minatoar a low flying cloud a tall thin shadow of a spirit watching carefully on tiptoes.

The mother’s story is meant to soothe the child as mother’s stories do. “I am listening child, but you need to calm down. There’s no such thing as girls that become snakes and minatoars. That is the stuff of fairytales. Take you time. I’m having trouble keeping up with you and you must not leave without me.”

near death experience

2007-06-18T19:53:00.000-07:00

you walk towards the lighthouse looking for someone with a match. you left your lighter at home. you pulled out a cigarette; it hangs from your lips as you dig deep in your pocket. you try the next. again nothing. you must find someone smoking. you look farther down the corniche. you know that at this time of day, the sun preparing to sit down at the very edge of things, you will find a couple of young guys hanging out, smoking one cigarette after another. you are desperate to smoke. you will quit some day. you've quit before. you can quit again. but today, right now you need a cigarette.

30 seconds later. 100meters back.
gone.
explosion.
pow.
boom.
boom.
boom.

you turn back. you keep walking.
you keep walking.
you see lots of young men. none of them stand waiting to light your cigarette. they stream past to follow your footsteps back. you keep walking. pushing against the steady flow.

you run now.
its an emotion you can't express in words, just your feet quick against pavement, your hair pushing up against the strong breeze. let air burning down your throat into your chest and cough it out. tilt your head up to the sky a few clouds and the sun cooling and now your face wet -- the smoke and dust you tell yourself, the smoke and dust from the explosion burn your eyes red.

you will quit some day. you've quit before. you can quit again. but today, right now you need a cigarette.

07.06.13

2007-06-14T06:19:00.000-07:00

do you remember that day.
You said goodbye. But didn’t leave.
We went for coffee. Then a walk. Then more coffee.
And we continued to walk up and down the corniche. Look to the sea.

“That juice is not fresh.”

Another day.

From here the shouting, honking, commotion on the street reaches me by way of a journalist’s cell phone. He is in his apartment a block from the ferris wheel, he moves to the balcony to see young men on mopeds streaming past, clamoring drawn to the scene of the crime.They prove their loyalty in their outrage. I stand at the top of a dune and look out to the ocean - panicked and lost. What next. Who next. The reports say something like “anti-syrian parliamentarian and son killed in car-bomb blast with 6 others.” Later they confirm that 9 are dead. I want to know about those 6 people. I want the headline turned upside-down. 10 killed in bomb blast by a popular swim club and amusement park along the seaside boardwalk where families and friends meet to fish, walk, drink coffee, smoke shisha, swim and enjoy the cool breezes from the sea. One of those confirmed dead is Walid Idon. He was sipping coffee, playing backgammon with his son and generally shooting the shit with friends in a popular café when the car bomb exploded. The seven other yet to be named victims include a two wait-staff, one surly one pleasant, a ful vendor, a bright eyed woman with a promising career as a poet who, sitting at a neighboring table had just asked the parliamentarian’s son for to light her cigarette, two bodyguards to Mr. Eido, and an anxious young man puffing impatiently on his water pipe looking expectantly towards the long entrance to the outdoor café hoping she would come soon, a middle aged woman hurrying her daughter along as they are late for an appointment.” I want the report to tell me where you are. If you are okay. That you were nowhere near that café on that day at that moment smoking a cigarette because you quit last time I visited.

A near death experience.
We sat on your balcony talking about near death experiences.
I can tell a good story.
You and your friends have images and blank spots.
Silences.
Curfew and doing homework in the dark.
I think about all the windows open so that glass does not break when the bomb explodes across the street.
My life.
Yours.

10.06.07

2007-06-10T09:37:00.000-07:00

longing.
pushing forward.
raising our voices.
coming together.

whispers

2007-05-30T03:03:00.000-07:00

She whispers to you earnestly. You listen. Your hand raises to your mouth. You look at her intently. Her neck arches towards you close. “it is imperative that you listen to my every word. I know something about you, don’t you see?:

On the other side of things there is a young girl hiding in the nook of a tree. Some days she looks out and swings from a branch. Some days she stays very very still. There will be a time when you will need her. When you go to her remember that she will welcome you with open arms. She has cleared a place for you. Someplace to rest. Someplace open. The leaves will ruffle and tickle and she will listen to you with deep emotion. She will smile and coax you into laughter and tears. You will breathe long purposeful breaths. You can leave when you are ready. And she will look for you on the horizon. Hurry be on your way.”

Let that girl be me.

23.05.06

2007-05-23T18:23:00.000-07:00

my love

i see bruises
from head to toe

how do you go on?
can't you run away with me?
if only i could scoop you up in my arms and bring you far from the chaos.

love and war.
cliches you say.

i am foolish you say.
i have little to offer you say.
i cannot protect you. i know. i know.
and even if i could you would never accept.

naive and missing you.
a you you may never be.
a me i've never stepped up to.

if you came to my shores the sweet ocean could lick your wounds.

06.03.07

2007-03-06T21:48:00.000-08:00

helicopters

that's all i see around me buzzing.
one down.
two down
three down
six

whirrrrrrrrrr.

27.02.07

2007-02-27T21:09:00.000-08:00

A thick black mass. Weighing down the bottom of the cup. Heavy heavy holding the whole thing down heavy. Can’t see a thing. Bleak. Blank. Blah. The future is a clog in the drain.

As I watch my life pass before me.
As I wish my life away.
As I wish this were over and done with.

Stuck I am still stuck

And I feel as though you all look on in wonder, watching.
Thinking to yourselves, how long will it take for her to catch on.

Hardly possible these days. And here I am wasting away institutionalized.
And so very little to show for myself. But heartache.

This is all so dramatic.
This is all so tragic.
This is all not what it should be. Even I can see that far.

I did not squander my youth -- I was too serious for that.
But if I look back I think I should have had more fun.

Love and joy and sparkling eyes even in the midst of everything falling apart.

24.01.07

2007-01-24T16:33:00.000-08:00

You are fish jumping into the air leaving the thick black surface of the wave below. you reach for the sky but your eyes pull are glued to all that is behind you. you are blind to what lay ahead.

I would like to help you but I too have troubles finding which way is up or down. I’m strutting my stuff and stretching my back, lifting my head up up up into the clouds. My expression surprise. And for all the reaching I am sure I’m falling down like rain. fantasmas revelan sus propios mismos. Y hay tuneles y troncas de arboles tan altas que no puedo ver sus ramas arriba arriba. I’m coming. Really. I’m almost there.

sencillo

2006-11-22T16:19:00.000-08:00

todo explica en 626 palabras

vot tak.

bis

digo yo:

hallas

22.11.06

2006-11-21T16:01:00.000-08:00

A man with a brief case and a pointy head walks forward with his feet facing backwards -- two steps back, one step forward. Not going anywhere fast. He’s dancing with a cactus and his long nose nudges her into the waltz, he cannot hide his tail which blossoms flatulence. Stuck on his treadmill, he wallows in the fragrance. The cactus tries her best to flee the scene.

At the base lies a scorpion. She holds up a mountain of flames that spark a pear-shaped flame person. This flame person stands on two legs but has more arms beetle-like and serious as she offers up a horse-head shaped flare thick to kiss the steam and smoke that billows like a ghost or a blobby plume balloon heavy against gravity. Like speaking to the oracle quizzical or the genie in the bottle at the mountain-top we watch and wait the flame-woman’s arms extended.

This mountain becomes the haunches of an antelope resting calm. His back to all this begging and standing still, he contemplates the horizon tilted but inviting. His profile is regal. Several figures hide away in his horns. Two koras or maids balance, backs arched. One standing on tiptoe head high supporting the weight of the second kneeling, knees held buoyant by the first’s forehead. They face a worried queen, enthroned. The queen sits eye to eye with the first lady in waiting, and hands her the key. Their fingertips graze one another and the both look down instead of catching each others’ gaze.

This all happens in a secluded cave pillared and protected from the world outside.

20.11.06

2006-11-20T08:16:00.000-08:00

you sit beneath a tree blooming, billowing. I am one of many small winged creatures lifting off up out of your hands, palms open to the sky. The tree protects us. It is thick and bustling. Its branches pushing up and out like fireworks ecstatic and bursting.

You sit, serious. Palms open. You look down. you look up. You will take your time. Yes you too are excited by the strength of the tree, its leaves vibrant, but you also look down at your hands. You urge us, small winged creatures to fly, fly fly. But for you, the way is slower. One baby step at a time. You must enjoy the shade and protection of the tree for now. Once you are rested and strong, you will stand and walk along the road before you. and we will fly above your shoulders, brightly. The road runs like a stream to the tree feeding its roots.

In the distance, steam and smoke puffs and billows from low craters. Too much heat below ground to hold back.

12.11.06

2006-11-12T07:45:00.000-08:00

a whirling dervish strides before me. confident, right foot forward. Your arms open and twist, your head cocks with feathers pluming from your crown. Your thick skirt swings with your hips. You walk one direction, but your head turns and pulls you back. Your arms become wings that do not fly, a chicken, a turkey, a peacock - a bird grounded.

You stand before a waterfall fluttering rapid. Young girls and small animals plunge upstream to meet you. they run and jump at your heels.

Me I stand on the edge of the moon of the sea, a puddle shrinking in your shadow. I lift my arm waving a torch, painting the scene with flames. I am small and straddle two rocky cliffs. The fire leaves smoke rings. You float and flutter among the billowing frosty air. You move between the ripples of smoke and ash, ‘now you see me, now…’