Mistral en la costa de mi corazón se lleva el noble arrullo y la sigo hacia el un mundo de sueños

When it rings within my ear
like it has done today
,yesterday and all the other days
when like an arrow it pierces though my third eye until I have to no eyes, no hands no past
nor future
no more stories to curtail the moment

Everything springs springing
joy, over thin skin, over the fragile scent of spring that ends and soars like the birds before winter,
ever looming, before it looks us in the eyes

Everything even I open to the cold as I did to the warmth

When I cannot, i brim over with words like a glass of water.

I met you here on this earth so I am not going to curse and complain I am going to say thank you. I am going to knee tonight and praise this life for in it my eyes first opened and this heart was cast into flesh. Oh how I will love harder, oh how I will love deeper
Oh how do anything else that live

My childhood friend died yesterday. I tried to cry but I couldn’t feel a things. I listened to his albums; smooth lines about being raised in LA. I was there,too long ago by his side–being“smart” is what “saved us”.


Numbness, is all that came to me. I didn’t even bother asking my body for the tears. Today, I felt like was a half unfrozen popsicle so I went to sing. And finally I I unfroze… cried and cried and unfroze-dripping all over the karaoke room.

all stories can be dropped
And all can be accepted

When I look at you, the world shifts into gear and my life begins to roll
the prospect of winter does not seem cold
and the primroses in my coastal begin to seed

When I look at him, all oceans part with a gentle willingness to love despite separation

When I look at you, I put my plans together and pray a thank you to life

When I think of him, A grateful smile
comes over my face and I understand some sacrifices are stacked like plates

When I look at you, I want to love you as much as I loved him
as deeply
as tender
as nourishing
and we are on our way

When I look at you, I know life goes on across the bend, around the corner,passed a true love and arriving at my door while in recovery

The wind holds everything. It even holds the love we lost; this love is held, rocked to sleep and awakened in another heart that beats with courage and says “I love you”. This love is like another outlet that runs to your heart’s ocean
and with fervor rushes down a hill
and calmly makes it way on the slight inclines until it enters the coastal.  
This love is yours from the every beginning to the very end. Yours.

I am like everyone else and because I am like everyone else I am beautiful.

We hold our traditions as our ways to life
in our pocket books
in your our palms pressed together
in our sutras
in our rosaries
In our myths
in our stories of creation

We place devotion in whatever path our heart has been lead to and with devotion
we find where they truly lead. To now and it infinitesimal  wisdom and unity

When the bees buzz over the ripened fruit, you will know it was love that brought them to the stamen not pollination.

I want to be brave and in my hands hold this ball of love
“I can be anything or anyone. A tree, an ant, a human, a bird.”  
Hold this love in hands so that I am never scared. So there is never “the other”
This ball of light I hold onto let me courageous and let me not forget

this ball of love and light in it the same
knows no separation no boundaries

It is raining outside but close to me
it is dry and warm; monsoon
season rests in my chest
rain descends consecutively like each living
second–
one after the other making both, life and rain, seem endless.

the clouds trickle their misunderstood grey-ness into my yogurt bowl sweetening my existence; each droplet a new second held in time so I count: 
 1 - 2 -3 -4 …until I arrive at endlessness, presence and peace)

It feels like I took one deep breathe and never exhaled until now.

It’s in the small moments you being to steal my heart, scooping it with your hands as if you have known well what it’s like to have an ***** decompose, return to soil, recycled to nourish once again this earth

It’s in the small moments when you play out 1966 salsa albums, Ray Barretto, Robert Roena that homesick in Jamwon-**** near the station in our tiny home, that I the dust begin to rise

that my heart, my being just as immense as all of life, mundane and earthly dances in our small kitchen. how much I love that in your hands you hold me and I don’t sieve through; I get thicker.

It was simply Smokey as if the pieces still slipping down her ****** had in those extra days marinated and were now ready to come out to the light of day to become jerky

When you pick courage from your mother’s garden
don’t pick the rock, pick the flower if you must leave your home and venture onwards

dont be scared that the flower will wither and you’ll be left courageless. It will dry and take a new form, but it will be with you.  Please  don’t worry that dry flower will last long; long enough to accompany one human lifetime-maybe even more.

You can’t stay there forever
your heart ruptures and breaks open
your life becomes magma cooling
new earth being created from a violent
or effusive explosion but new soil nonetheless

Prove someone wrong
chose the person
chose the exact words

prove someone wrong
run into another hamster wheel
until you have proved you are “__”

make “__” your motivation. Add another layer to your persona; keep your ego fresh sautéing those words over it

jump into that wheel
do it, again
and again

and when your finally exhausted
find out that living for someone else is not as powerful
as living for your own being

proving is over. you do not need a hamster
wheel. proving is over. You powerful
when you are fulfilling your own heart. Proving ends and you begin

I have forgiven everyone
every hurtful thing
has no space within my heart

that is why my words towards them bare lightness
it mercy for myself and for them
nothing is worthy of carrying

am I bee
be am I
Bee I am
beeee
I am
am I to believe
that I am a bee

when he kisses me I sometimes crumble

I love him but not as much as I loved the one before him

when he kisses me it is joy delivered
and sorrow brimming
from the wet kiss
the other never pecked
softly over my lips


when he kisses me I want to forget
the love I held for the one before

When he kisses me it’s like a tectonic
plate of  sorrow meets a tectonic plate of joy
and the earth shakes
and I quake
and I crumble, crumble again and again
every time  he kisses me I know why earthquakes rumble

his daughter had long hair in my dream
he was sitting next to her
I simply hugged him
and everything else
was a blur

my palms can grasp the calm rocks adjacent
to you. they are sturdy granite; they have ancestors
too like you and me. This fiery ball of earth cooled and created
these rocks. my sturdy world was built from an inferno of lava cooling. i wait
for humanity to cool, too -end its wars.  For our continents to melt together and create not just subduction zones, where granite
and granodiorite cool deep down in the crust,
but a world culture where we are encouraged
to live without exploiting
the earth and each other. Grateful
because this grip on this life is temporal
oh how more soothing its breezes becomes
when you are aware and can feel it  
hear the heart of life buzzing off with the pulsing
bee and drop onto the pistil
of a flower. This world is no more than pollen.
The wind carries this mighty dust and harvest starts
not just in the fields but in our fertile hearts

Life is no longer for rushing
it is for full steps, sturdy and calm

No longer to deceive
ourselves, it is for honest conversations
not just in-front of the mirror but with others

No longer for stagnant
patterns, it is for frightening
change rumbling the asphalt
below your feet construction underway

no longer for the accumulation
of traumatizing
behavior, it is for the cultivation
of love

I do not know
how long it takes
I just know
I am healing

Kurhíkuaeri  naci depues
de tus dos nuevos fuegos
case al terminarse el mes

quizas fue en un sueno que me vi caer
en la noche deste lo celeste hacia  esta tierra
mi ser  encendido como un cometa
forjando camino por al atmosfera

Es por eso que me siento como fuego ardiendo
Es por eso que mis cachetes son calientes

Kurhíkuaeri, soy parte sol como tu ?

my once in a lifetime
sets like a sun over me
as I learn to love
someone else slowly

the emptiness of a room spoke
to me. For over a year, it dragged
me into a closet, it buried
me in winter sweaters, ruthless
wired bras, and band shirts reminding
me of him

my once in a lifetime sorrow sinks
into the past as I reach
for someone else’s hand, grasping
tenderly I see my sun rising

it is now a once in a lifetime thing, too

I know what has been
just as you know what has occurred
but I still want to dive
into a cold lake or wiggle
my toes under a long cotton towel, laugh
because it is still here, this immense
light warming me, daring
my heart with fullness so plump
I just softened with affection

My heart rings with every bell
this life has struck me. I am wake.
It’s tolling glorious; it’s sound still reverberating through me

every bridge that collapses is an abutment
of hands and elbows tumbling  over

every hurried step urgently taken out of the office pasture,
is from a cow readied, conditioned and willing to get its **** pulled for the milking

every time I see them depart it saturates the pastoral painting
begun during my youth, the base for the subsequent layers never dries

the picturesque manifest destiny  propaganda of the early 1800's
with "California " spelled on it.  
sit next to the paper with a bounty for put on native heads
over a poster of the runaway slave


"the pursuit of happiness",  that is the name of my painting
but the underpaiting never dries

so much turpentine but it seems most people never arrive there, laboring at drugstore or at a big warehouse si

never getting to use the linseed oil  

how savory some of us must taste
I weep at this thought
what is there not to weep for
if life is still sold
you and I headed like cattle



how it is too easy

la forma en la cual te decapitan
es normalizada igual que el esplendor
del sol, a cual le llaman cosa cotidiana

la forman en la cual callas sin saberlo
es naranja siendo pelada
mas no la muerdes la regalas

la forma en la cual una pandemia te desboca
es dentista jalando muela
y despues hasta le tenes que pagar

la formal la cual la estacion apgujeong no te facina
es la misma forma por la cual hollywood y vine tampoco

trabajadores en rumbo hacia todas direcciones para
no morrir de hambre

They said you get what you deserve
and I got you
something far, far better

so good for me
that it makes me thankful that all the rest left me alone
so you could find me

so that we could dance late at night to a guitar man playing Sultans of Swing on the side walk with a baby blue guitar and a small amp

You swung me out of your arms and back into them and I twirled you

You met a wise woman
who told you to laugh
and then you knew wisdom
she was not just smart



wisdom is the mind and the heart together at their best

I want to travel São Paulo
and Oaxaca with you, since you have already been to Mexico City.

I want to be better at seeing the world through your eyes too

“it is not taken too kindly when a woman speaks out and is direct. It’s seen as aggressive. Ask your wife”

“ No, that’s not true” said the cis gendered man, as he responded for his wife

I made it from hot to holy
from holy to hot
from toothpicks next the counter
to a foreign metropolis
from palm oasis to squished buildings
so pressed at the sides, they can only grow upwards
I made it from feeling like fire, a woman at the top of Neguá to feeling like a fire and all of life

The end of sorrow came on the second day as I understood that as I lived I died

I have sung 365 songs with your name in them butnever have they touched your shoulder. In the dark alleys, holding friends up as they tell me how angry they are. How disillusioned they feel. In the morning hours I lay our all the  evidence on the dirt street like chess pieces over a board not to try to convince but to show them that their  “ ****** up__”  as **** as it has been is also what life has been. No redrawing,undo, no control z but that the  flash of light is also as brilliant and potent as the jet black in their hair, in the alley, and in the hands of who ever hurt them their neglect.

On the chess piece I lay a shoe for times I was dragged from under the sofa and beat for leaving a can of coke unfinished, on the board I leave a piece of hair for the chunk that girls in elementary school ripped off my head after school, on the board I leave picture of a naked Barbie for the times I was molested, and to the corner I leave a small receipt that was left in my bag the night after I was too drunk to say no and did not know to call it **** until a few years later. On the board I leave a flight ticket for the love for a man for which I crossed an ocean, and in the middle I leave a white flower for all the times I willed myself up alone from the floor.

I can only show them. Some days I leave some parts out; some friends only know some parts and some of them have no laid their pieces on the chest board and we all all wept for the things that have been lost


Cried in a living room to Marley “no woman, no cry”


At the end I throw over the chess board and watch the chess pieces fly off in different direction. So what
So what
So what
I still have this life to live

tucked in her ******* is the paragon
of devotion, dripping
from her ****** into unfruitful
barrels of nothingness, she mothers
the absence of empty fridges
and messy closets.
"Soon" she whispers
soon there will be someone else here to
drink of her milk

I halt my jogging to stare at the moon

I forget the moon is a floating rock  is suspended in space
how marvelous everytime I remember

poem writing is a slow art
cannot just cultivate
your mind, you must train
your senses,
your eyes, sculpt
a beautiful mind
and become a deep sea diver coming up
for air at just the right speed

the art of poesy is the art of living
with age more profound

we were born
the same year. we have three
white hairs near our forehead. we will
become two silver foxes,
you and I.

you ask me
if we can take the elevator
to the roof.

the cool air is irresistible.
i stare at you,
as you pull your shirt off,
over the roof top
and I proceed to pull
mine off too.

there is no difference to me,
that you are labeled as a “man” and I
as I “woman”.
I am too old for gender norms to keep a sweaty shirt over me, when I could cool
down too.

the cool air is cool.
my chest is a chest.
you and I exit the web of fiction
and emerge naked of them,
as if rescued from a sunken ship
–we inhale the air fresher
because we chose.
we chose.

over your head
you can keep ten cloaks
hide behind enough distance
so that everything might be
half life and half made up
in your mind–
but I want to witness supple miracles
tucked in reality’s silk slip, it’s splendid
tales so unbelievable
they shakes reality’s vines to offer
the juiciest of grapes
I honor all creases, all bruises
all howling nights if it means
I can see the day breaking
so bright and clear over the my life’s
horizon

The deep crease in my eyes
is as deep as the ocean
and as profound
as every word I sincerely
wrote to you

I swallow, all the light
in my cup, all the light and hope
my father poured, when
he would take us out
to protests

It feel it ,warm light, traveling
down my throat, my white
ancestors atoning, my black ancestors surviving transatlantic ships
still praying,  my indigenous
ancestor watching their home
burn down and still building
a new one

I swallow all their light, amidst the sorrow…
I must not coward…not now… I cannot …
I drink from their light on days like today

For all my lives lived and lost
I cry for none of them

for now in understand
What a gift this mystery is

for all my lives lived
I am thankful for each of them

Sometimes it pulsates in pain
and I ask “ is death near?“
but then I think when has it
never been near
from the time
my mother birthed me
it’s been looming
over my head
holding hands with my nativity

There is a smile on
my face
I toil in small increments
towards dreams