I just love someone
I just love someone
I just love someone
And  I accept it

And I accept that they cannot accept me

For some this is just an election but for me this a marathon
a marathon I will be running my entire life

saving the image of USA will not diminish the number of people who voted to re-elect someone who openly flamed racism’s fire

My poems are like cargo trains. Can you tell what cart each poem comes from. Whose musk and whose motherly pen they hark back to?

In relation to what? and whose words summon courage into my belly? Do you care to know? If the answer is no, then at least answer these questions about yourself. It is no good to run on empty or to not know which cart you’re on.

someone who sent those loves songs
could not show affection any other way

“are they okay ?” always whirled over my head
passages from books, illustrations, podcasts, songs, essays, interviews and articles were always  my way of trying to offer something
“was I okay?”  

things will be okay
“life goes on”
and it is what we decide
to make of it
from this moment on
onwards with joy as a compass

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

They have started dressing as civilians waiting
for professors outside their classes taken, even if
they are residents they are arrested to be deported.

What dream of democracy have your tucked
in your shirt's pocket like a card you can pull
out and say "here, free speech" just for show  

Where is it? where is the discourse that democracy connotes?
suing law firms that bring cases against your point of view
because if only your opinion matters then what is freedom of speech ?

And what is freedom of speech used to harm another
but something as untamed and vicious like this country's founding
Who says they will not come after you?

first them, then you ? first the folks on the margins, then you?
you samson , you lie with delilah. your freedoms one by one
extinguishing like candles over constitutional cake

They have dressed like civilians and started taking people. They have dressed like civilians and they are taking people. They are
not upholding a democracy: they are taking it away

my mind is filled with thoughts
it weighs me down

It drafts fictitious stories
blurring up perceptions

my rambunctious brain
takes longer to calm
and to alleviate its self-induced headaches  

the renewed sun
and the brilliant leaves
the cool evening breeze coming from the coast
are anchors
as the theme of "prolongation" grips my left hand
I can only breathe and release while taking patience into my right hand

Be well, see today and pick up the freshness
of the day with the scent of  blowing lilac
trees and if they has lost their fragrant  flowers then touch the trunk

walk until your pace gets faster and find your body gliding, a morning or evening run set to your pace

bend in yourself what needs to be bended
you are the surgeon and the medicine man
mend what needs to mended

Let the wind whisper to you and let the earth hold you. Go out!

here
sit gentle
as the night
prolongs the day

there
sit calm
as the day
absorbs the night

it
is one
this temperate
longing that takes the skies

it
is one
shared sentiment
lingering that breaks stars between light years of nothingness

that drenches
the heavens with silence
so loud that I quietly hear you beyond reason as if we lived in the same house

now
due away
with anger
unfurl your brows and sleep lover
there is no way that I could ever leave you behind


(the world just isn’t made that way)

Who are they ? What does their front door look like ?


My friend could not sleep all night
she spent it crying
“It hit home for me” she told me as we rode back home on a bus
eight people shot dead in Atlanta at a spa
her words, her sadness and her fear for her parents
I could only listen and cry with her
somethings are too horrible
too sorrowful

What are their stories? What lives did they live?

We all must grow
and we all need to be challenged
to sit within ourselves and face the fear
face what stands in our way  
towards becoming more loving
and at the same time more authentically ourselves

archive past mistakes
and learn to forgive ourselves
for not being wiser
–wisdom is a gift of time
with every experience carved into us
with every partnerships with friends
family and lovers aimed at the growth of spirit
we heal

everyone shows us we are whole
That divinity is our inheritance as they walk us to the door of our own soul


Nothing, no one, no possession is enough –none will ever be–
because you were born complete

You come like a warm breeze
on the shortest month
and if I could pick a birthday gift
it would of never amounted to anything as precious as your forgiveness
what you give could never be bought
and I am aware of that

You might think I am strange
but I am no stranger than a leaf

Nor wilder than the flowers
who grow across the desert

Nor am I more alive nor less alive
than a rock

I know I, too circle
in unison with Rilke
"around the primordial tower"
we circle
with no need of knowing
if its been a day or  thousands of years

I weep with my little pains huddled
like toddlers around me.  
They were so sweet
in their patience with me, waiting
until I was ready. Now I hold them,
their tiny faces giddy with excitement, as I abandon
the ground of functionality for a wilderness
quiet at their side

I need someone who genuinely cares about me
who doesn’t need to will themselves to love me, but that in their heart knows they would like to greet each day by my side

I need a hand sometimes. I can handle my own, but it would nice to have someone show up for me.

To take a walk with or invite me out for cup of tea

Someone who wants to know how I am doing. If I am okay?someone I can turn to and feel comforted and loved by even if we don’t have much

Someone I could talk to, that could speak back to me

Someone who helps me grow and looks at me with eyes of compassion and gives their smile to me as a gift

It is easy to forget we matter
but keep it in your eyes’ line of sight
don’t lose it among the crowd

wake up feeling full of your ever present worthiness

I made it
I survived
I made it through and I am stronger
I am stronger because I made it though
I survived and made my way through
It made me so much stronger
and I want be everything I am

I want to be who I am even if someone I love thinks it wild and disagreeable
I want to naturally unfold and love what I love and give what is in my heart to give

I want to be organic and honest with myself

I want with so much ardor to be there
to be there for today
to love again once my heart is empty

I want with so much fervor
to be reminded that all my elders walk with me
to settle even deeper into my being

I made it
I survived
and now what I cultivate reflects
only life’s innate desire
to flow through me

At random hours of the day
I feel a warm pulse in my chest
and the image of you surges from the depths of my mind

I want to close my eyes and inhale for the count of four;be a little vacuum suctioning air and keeping it in for two paired seconds. Then, exhaling for six.

It softly whispers to me
"i would wait two decades
if that is how long it took"

I say nothing;
I have no words for the wild heart
that pumps this blood inside.

When it comes ravaging
cutting your skin with glass
let the shards that fly in the same manner as a sandstorm expose the bones
for once and for stop hiding
all the brilliant shimmer that comes being being cut so deeply, the beauty white bone reflecting the light

We forget that we can call beauty
and if it does not arrive
we can make it
we can witness it
we can be part of it
we can choose that finally our lives deserve
to be instruments through which beauty and all loving goodness flows
authentically humanly
stumbling some days
harder than the others we devote ourselves to consciously creating more harmony within our own beings

there was never a willingness to communicate always a distance always a trying to guess and understand

how can anything end up well when you do not communicate
when misunderstandings are what make up your whole story

how can you really know?
or why did you never want to know ?

were you looking for evidence
were you looking for reasons

Did you finally find them amongst all the actions you never asked about ?
Or Coiled around all the feelings you never voiced ? The anger, the sorrow, the missing,the failure,the hurt, the righteousness, the apathy and the lingering love

did you ever want them?
was ignoring a strategy ?


what was your intention ?

gently slide your anger onto my palm
even outrage has a purpose

sometimes all the softness in the huecos
between cavities declare themselves present

the sun and Curicaueri watch a small phoenix falling to the ground
and they know she is dying and they know she will be strong
and they know she will burn

                                                     ...

the sun is bright and enough for me to see
the broken pieces on the floor their sharp edges glistening

...and slowly to the chirping of the birds, I begin to pick them up
I believe I can melt these pieces
and use them to make a beautiful stain glass window

in this lifetime I will make something of beauty
from all the wretched & unkind things
from everything that left me in pieces

the sun is bright and enough for me to see, I shine
even when scattered and left unwanted
when  no longer deemed useful
Bright enough for me to smile while picking up the shards
enough for me to see myself as worthy of being thrown into the fire
and being remolded

                                                  ...

­the sun and Curicaueri watch a small phoenix fall to the ground
and they know she is dying and they know she is strong
and they know she is burning
incinerating slowly with her flesh and fears all around her
as the flames rise they know she is closer to life than she has ever been before, so they wait for her patiently
                                                  ...
t­here from the distance  the sun and  Curicaueri watch over her
as does the wind, the brooks and the hidden moon

Who is to know
folding inward
and outward
my whole body is a pulsing heart
and you have got it
in dreams
and in life brown eyes

We need to live and breathe and mingle with the joys of life
we cannot sever connections to the earth or any “them” energy flows from one to another as we are the one

There are times when you choose
and there are times when things choose you

Benny Moré’s music cushions my night
his voice plays, as I open
and then read a hand drawn
card by a dear friend

how with all her joy
my joy as well wishes to come out
in celebrations of the beauty
she has found
in sunflower seeds, in plants
and the learning Spanish

I cast my wishes
into the endless fountain of time
and release my palms to the openness of
possibility
to the songs of forgiveness
and the scent of embrace
that binds me to this very living

Sometimes it is hard to turn towards wholeness when a society, someone, a whisper or a story has been told
and it makes you feel as though you are lacking
but every life comes into this world with its own completeness

I have always been this way
prone to get up off the floor with a ****** nose
dusty shoulders and all
and still want to smell the daisies

I have faith in all the beautiful things this world has to offer
I have a corner tucked so deep inside my chest nothing touches it
there I keep my fire
there I keep my hope
there the light abides

Let go, this story is too painful, too many pits for you to fall in
for once and for all
let go

all stories obstruct
all narratives limit
yes time passes
you can carry very verb, every noun
but I promise you your load will be too heavy

Just let go, start again
free, May this moment open you
May this life and all the boxes you put yourself and me in melt like icicles

I want for you the greatest gift of all. The lightness and the presence
the peace that they say surpasses all
it real
Please, let go
do not stay stuck to tangles web of stories
I want for you the most beautiful of lives
Let go, it has been enough now
This living is opening, this heart of yours is overflowing
Let go, you do not need the past
you passed it, you are brave whole and ever radiant as the wrinkles begin to deepen when you smile
Let go and laugh
Let go and love
Love, come back to love
no for me, not for anyone
just back to love
Love for the daisies, the sun, the wind
love for your humble soul
Love
let go and love again

genocide. on a strip. because the rest of was taken years ago-
fear & anger dominate the bombs. where is your clear mind?
people are people. violence is a crime. where is your compassion?

I will pick up the whispers over the dry patches of land amongst the chaparral

the womxn who births over the earth in a dense city bears the name of “mother” when I call out

The long fabric roll unfolds her story and the those of the ones she calls “brother” and “nana”. Crafty hands and animal loving eyes set to see the sunrise over the North American sky reflect its light over the railroad fabric and back into my eyes

I pick up the radio waves, the ones my cousins, my friends, my sibling and my grandparents heard as they serenaded each other or played music in the living room . It was always static I could never make it out. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz

A static buzz was all I could hear for a very long time.

Then the two bars of 8 beats for salsa; the 4/4 ballads I always giggled and stumbled my way through at parties when the old folks got up to dance, and I would grab my one of my best friends and give it a go

the endless ways in which I was taught to feel the world around me, to weave myself into the music, into words, into this earth and into light begins to carry me through hard seasons,
and I understand now if life is meaningless, If I am only an irrelevant speck in this cosmic ocean the best “****  you” the ultimate undoing of this
is to live a life of meaning, and burn bright and authentically until there is nothing left and this existence is enough

(in truth it has always been enough)

I have started replicating old Korean paintings of desks
I look at each line so precise but different from the others; each has got its own charm

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

Maybe my purpose was just to help heal
help someone along
that’s the basis of
being here with each other

“How beautiful we are “
i carry this sentence tucked in my coastal
in case I forget
how feet and how lungs move the way butterflies flutter in time

May the wind aid you
like it has aided the blue patches of sky that were revealed
as the clouds floated off

May the breeze not just cool you
but also clear away & soothe your inner climate  
and lower the chances of internal precipitation

Still the softest part of me waits for you
its too hazy and I am too confused

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

There has always been something very shy about me
that made me stop and look at plants and sense the trees
be around other quiet things
there has always been something too painfully shy in me that when it matters most I cannot speak
it is not that I stop feeling it’s just that I am overwhelmed with so much that I feel dizzy and flustered

I see it now
it is a slab of concrete that I have to break slowly through

I thought “ okay, nothing’s going to stop me” in swoops pandemic

I thought “ I’ll wait out the pandemic”
but at last potential tumor for the win

2020 you cheeky *******; if I wore mascara it would be running heavy and black from my eyes

When I dream of  you I wake up content but when I turn my head and look behind my shoulder the room is empty.

Do you love me ?
Am I a crazy, odd, silhouette of a girl

You are not here to respond. Is that the answer?
(who can be sure; time swirls in my belly and I bend like a branch in the wind)

the line is long and only continues to get longer
there so many mouths to feed and this food bank
does it have enough ?
are there hymns for the hungry
like the ones the protester sing in Portland as they march tonight

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

May there be more roads that open up daily onto joy
May there be more silent moments where gratitude
takes the heart into its two hands and we become filled
with an unending warmth
because we trust ourselves
and this great unfolding to sieve us at the end of this process 
into light