This beautiful teeming orbit is not ours to take care of
it is us
“We breathe together”
it is inseparable
you and I
, it –our fate the same

I want life to flourish
and so earth must sing
i want a shift
a second coming of a loving consciousness
not as some man or some messiah (stop limiting divinity to human figure)
but to have us recognize it in the entirety of life in its miraculous omnipresent light that indeed does shine permeating all

The great thing about getting older is that you start finding out what you are and what you are not
and it does not mean you  cannot cultivate what you lack nor does it connote any amount of permanence it’s just that you can finally recognize and now start
from where you truly are
with a clear view over the land
and you just have a better sense of the territory
you have a better starting point that’s all; that’s what I like about getting older

They, do they realize I have had the same friends for 20 years now
And that inevitably we have stumbled through youth together
oscillating like sonic waves
closer, further,
sawtooth
we have been human
humanness so imperfect that we hurt one another with our carelessness
but they always stay there in discomfort with me
on park bench
in grocery parking lots
in side streets alley and took responsibility
their action
and allowed me the chance to speak the them and atone to mine

they might think it was impatience, immaturity, abandonment but
it was love this great big leap of love for myself that I took
this courageous willingness to state what friendship meant to me
and when it fell upon deaf ear

I could see him standing again in the alley “ saying we have nothing to be sorry” or something fuzzy that resembled nothing to say sorry about.

Did he not understand I had sold all my belonging, moved across the world to stand there, did he not see my naivety, my willingness and my faith in him, my wild belief that I could break any norm,

Did I not see this heavy wistfulness, my lack of love that I would bet my life on crumbs, on song that promised love, did I not see that two others a woman and girl might deserved to wake up to who they loved, did I not see all the ****** up swirling dysfunction in my head,


The last time I came to see him,
I smiled because he is so good at what he does. He radiates.

–And I thought of the troublesome times I have come to see my dearest friends through my short life
and how they and I
–we stood there in discomfort but finally patched it up,
took the muck and held it. Tried
got angry, cried, asked for forgiveness, or stood silently until we could agree to meet again, until slowly we could atone
The gift of friendship that we always offered after mistake and mistake–


But he left ...
and I kept dancing at least there was music playing

At least my intention was to liberate
, to come and to see someone
look at them as something more that a fiction of imagination, see them with flesh and blood and not keep them clouded villainous or a story too skewed in my mind  

and if my intention got stuck under sheets of thoughts and misunderstanding over lack of phrasing, over more of youthful stumbling it is because it comes with the territory of being this young, this tender, this foolish, this whole bag of everything that is me
and i am not ashamed of every mistake I have made
slowly I am learning
appreciating friendships
the renewed bonds
The 5 years, the ten years, the 15 years, the 20 year long connections I have worked with all my might to feed with devotion
passed all my insecurities, past all my self doubt, past my own pride, past my self to see them standing then just as they are

I carried the grocery bags to my car,
while the divinity of my spirit carried me
within its bag swinging me back and forth, through a parking lot that was no less divine than the snot running down the nose of the little boy being pushed on a cart while his mother made her way into the store.

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

I think of my shrink
and think of my friends
and I think of everyone
who told me to erase someone from my life
to be brave
but now I understand
forgiveness is greater
and that I should always trust my heart
no degrees in human psychology ,no pep talks, no one else’s guidance will do
at some point your being is your only compass

I do not always have to do it alone
I always felt I had to but I am more open to receiving help now; I am more open to resting my head over a shoulder and admitting my own limitations
I am not ashamed of being imperfect I am blessed by it because I can see that I am just like everyone else
and I like that ordinary people can do extraordinary things together
nourishing one another for as long as skin, body, and who knows maybe even spirit goes

I look at the tree and see my lovely leaves
We share life together their bark makes that part of the world and my body makes this part of the physical world. “Oh my leaves :))”  what do you think when I stare at you with such joy in my heart ?

You are carrying the frame an old  brick house of pressure determined
to go in your intend direction
your quest to get ahead
in life blinding
you are too busy to stop and really see
all the growing things
still you ride on with your oversized load over the highway

Opera and Pansori are like the olympics of singing

They are standing on the hills behind me each one
but now I am standing on another

I climbed this mountain up hand in hand with him
this mount that then became a mountain is now becoming an Everest, my love full so full it overflows and drips  as compassion

gender constructs, piety, nationality, “goodness”  these frameworks I live in are unquestionable for in their deviation there lies true reason of  “understandable” ostracism “yeah of course, how dare they?” & “who do they think they are”  
I thank them for where they have brought us but that is not where we are going it is only where we have already been

Dear Dark Brown Eyes,

I  am glad something brought a wave of joy over your  countenance bubbling up as laughter. You deserve the clearest balm to ease your sighs and sorrows. And the warmest of hands to hold yours when evening envelopes the mountains
And the river that divides the north and south of Seoul is frozen over

My dear brown eyes, whatever you decide is yours to decide. Who you pray to, who you love and who you’ll be as the years go by
are all YOURS,
like the chirp of a bird,
or the song of a swallow
it must feel natural to you
and only you can hear it as it perches



MINE. My song calls me to you.
To sit by your side and to meet you once the the sprouts root and grow green,
past the frozen ground onto pathways which the light of spring is to reveal

Who you’ll be then and how you’ll feel
I will respect. The vines grow in many directions in and around all posts, fences, names and memories. They can become nuisances or the fruit for fine wine.

you must look at things for what they truly are
just as naturally as sunset comes to the day
you will face night; call it “night” no need to wrap it up and make it tidy

When people give their hearts to poetry, to music, to dance, to art–
to the arts
do they know they are giving themselves back to life
do they know that there is no separation

“I am__” does not matter. You are life

what song can a bell make
that does not pierce the heart

(what melody can I sing when love entangles me to form
music does not need to be seen, so why do I gulp at the thought of their deaths)

I have started saying "I don't know"
when they ask on what page it's on
Although I know, I have begun not answering
question and letting silence take to the air
but I know the response,  mentors
friends and life have so kindly given to me
the letter with the answers, I don't want to pretend
to be dull-witted--I do know
it's all blood and scrapes and great heaps of
love to know, not haughtiness --

Lay down the thoughts that are like smoke
hiding the reflective mirrors of doubt.

Rest your mind well
and ease the racing predictions,
scenarios of doom and possible gloom
that chip away at good things.

Soften your glare,
here,
there is no need to worry,
life has already been so much worrying

This is the point you rest, rest deeply
in your hope

It is just that I want to do right by this girl (myself). Nothing is worth her peace of mind and nothing is worth chasing after to the point of exhaustion. She needs true love and she needs inner fulfillment. She needs to keep her spirit oiled –and her garden nourished.

And if he does not feel the same
I would understand
but I needed to be brave
because it means so much to me
he means so much to me
everyone has got their things( their no to great traits)
but i don’t need someone to put on a pedestal that is not what I am asking for

I am asking to see you further for who you are

At the foot of a mountain, I come to bury the ashes of all my past lives. I come in joy to lay down what sorrows were of old
to empty my heart as if it were a pail of water to be soaked up by the earth below me

to build another mount to honor all the challenges that like rocks struck skin
those difficulties that winded across time and felt like chains
but that were really sections of a map
that were really my healing under a long period of time  
that were a gift worthy of receiving

I come to sing and play and love and be under the moon by the mountains as I commence the burial of all which weighed me down

in all the in-betweens where i tucked my notes of sorrow
                        I have set little fires that

i move around putting out fires from year to year

The sun is already within you
yours, no key, no code, no price
no person, nothing stands between you
and the brilliance of your sunshine
you are forever endowed with its warmth

How can I become more of myself?
What can I give?
Have I given enough ?
Whose eyes should I borrow ?
And what shoes should I walk in ?

Judgement does not keep company with truth;
Have I cleared my mind?
Have I opened it wide enough ?
What perspectives need to be placed down?

Dear love could you see me with new eyes too
could we clear the slate and I could I love you
as I have always longed to love you
I forgive and I wish to walk down the narrow streets with you

They grip at me  
Two fists snuck into an envelope of soft words
I get “Adjust” instead of its harsher
commanding counterpart “change”
(“comprise”  is in absence in this conversation)

But I see my grandmother smiling
And great grandmother dancing
And all the womxn that have made me
appear from behind the mesquite
emerging from the thick wilderness of time
to transcend
to bear naked their wisdom and  grant me their heart

Their dance swirls within me
Their smile leaps
reaching through flesh
like a ray being emitted from my inner cove
To materialize over my face

And I can sit calmly and confidently
Smile And say “no”
“You cannot dance with me.
Go!”

pela noção de que todas as vidas são criadas iguais
                                             Abro a boca,
                                           movo as mãos
                                e canto na direção do futuro
                                   porque na minha mente
                                           a visão é clara

i cut my hair so that another
girl who had only been an earth for a few years could carry
its softness and know someone would
give whatever she was not born with
this world would offer itself to her
cradled in her bed wherever she was
....
i forget the many times
i slept in other people’s homes
or had to leave mine as a child
those many times were coiled and repressed
pushed back into a box like a jack
...
my youth is here present
i mingle with it
and forget it is not always going to be here
and i hear the world is not kind to older womxn
but hear from older womxn those years are the most fruitful; there, they are their most powerful
and like the promised land i want to rush there
the way i used to want to rush towards death
and none of them will do when the early morning hours come
because i just want to be here
cradled in my bed wherever i may be

I refuse to be snarky
to sit in a room and poke fun of others
intentionally
to complain and complain to no end

I refuse to tear people down or roll my eyes at them. I just rather sit quietly and read my book. I want this space of mine to be calm and joyful.

yo y los girasoles
amamos la luz

los girasoles y yo
retoñamos naturalmente

I miss her

“Who is your favorite Beatles member?”
This was a serious question as she was a self proclaimed Ringo fan, and anything Ringo related  she could get her hands on she did

Some people are just so sure of what they like
of things
of life
that they make you want to questions what you like
They’re like a strong river, and you have to make sure to keep obedient to the nature of your own flow

I remember turning towards her bracing myself to be met with vehement disagreement and saying  “ Harrison”.

“Oh, okay” she said and kept digging around in the crates filled with vinyls

I think you would find me silly
for closing my eyes not just for the purpose of sleep but for the purpose of seeing your face in a lucid dream

Silence as you gasp and before you scream

Silence

A sigh is another place in which one can find the quiet residence of a lexicon

In complete silence women pray;
some do so in the zealous quietude of their rooms
where the silence is like a mime
sending only signs

Silence comes while the musicians wait attentively on their condutor to count them off

Silence is what we endure
when we believe we do not have a tongue


Silence

When a moment is full of beauty our mouths and minds lay cusped in that second’s ineffable existence

Silence

The great friend of fools and the great companion of the wise.

We looked at the state of our nation and there was only silence

what followed was drowned out by all the noise in a place
where there was no room for silence

Once upon a time there was a mirror and
I spoke to it the cursed words
“Mirror mirror on the wall”
and it spoke back to me “ yes”
And I asked it “what is the fairest end to this all”
and it responded “nor I nor mother time know, we appeared just like you”

(The mirror grew silent and then recited to me “earthling, earthing on the other side what’s is like to be alive” and I awoke)

And there
and here
I transform
what you give me
all the splinters
****** to open
a small surface protruding
into my life
but with intention
find it laying over a flower
Over the smile of a stranger

My unprocessed layers dance over me
I peel and peel and try to take off each layer
and the anger fades, and there is no blame, and there is space
and there is a vulnerable heart
who does understand and just wished to also be understood
and cared for not divided by a line
or relegated to the outskirts as I felt

there sits a weeping part that needs nothing but to be acknowledged
and I sit with it granting its wish

You are becoming more beautiful
not because more people like you
or because more people agree with you
You are becoming divine
because you are in the closet pulling down the cobwebs
In your home, brewing your tea to cultivate moments of attention
in your heart adoring what great effort
you body makes to keep you here
you are beautiful because you try over and over see the miraculous

I can
always feel you
in the center of my chest

    I can feel your longing
and I can feel your sorrow
as-well as your love and joy

Don’t you know— I ask you to be well
because I can sense you
             less than hour ago you were here
at center of my costal

I have no intention of ravaging
through the piles and aisles of consumer goods in my mind

No ravenous hands that will do the hunting
deed and feed a primal thirst of mine, aching
to satiate a beast from an old fairly tale

Long, long ago is over. Long long ago in a faraway place
is no longer here and now, there are no beasts
except the ones I indulge and tonight- the room is empty

No high wall outside my window
just a half moon of solitude
and its ray of acceptance shinning through

I hand you a flower and you open your palm and place a coal stone

I smile
after many years your flowers were pressed
died and combined
made dark but I do not just see one
I see the bouquet you gave
(The years and the darkness of soil mixed with all the gentle things in your heart)

Soy una nube
y soy también el sol

Soy la belleza de la vida
en forma de mujer

Soy un pedacito del planeta
–otra hija de la tierra

Soy caracol
bacteria
infinitamente inseparable de nuestra biografía existencial
–pequeño polvo eterno flotando por la atmósfera del tiempo

Vengo de lo que ha sido y será

you are across the street
and so am i. we are walking
in the same direction. the sky is dimming preparing its arms for the dark lull in
which only stars sing.

the people sauntering
around us are their own celestial bodies detached from the outside world
in their mind, inside their screens– far, far away.

we pass them on the street towards
the same place light years from one another wondering if I tilted my phone and aimed it’s reflection into their eyes if they’d receive, if the speed of light can carry my message.

my dear tender eyes
the smallest things are the greatest things
disguised by nothing
their beauty standing on its own and like truth
it can only be recognized
so my dear tender eyes take my hand and can you feel we are made of that same tenderness that tilts towards love

the verandas come to us and the sweetest smell cannot be dispelled from the california orchards blooming,
each season has them blinking food
into existence
and the momentary insects, birds and grown children pick the ripened seeds to nurture their bodies during one rotation of the earth around Huitzilopochtli

Marina left and at first I thought she was out picking berries, drifting under the canopy in the forest, but at last the june birds cried and her absence was louder

realizing only then that each step she took
had taken her farther
            My Marina was out of the forest
and although there was no knock on the door and no ring was presented by a striking suitor, I felt
as though at last life had come for her hand

What can I do if my tongue does not want to stretch. I boil some tea in hopes that it will loosen its tea leaves unfreeze this iceberg of a lengua
I am an ice picker just trying to carve this **** thing but it is stuck and ten Hail Mary don’t warm it up, two miles along the river do little to exercise it; only my feet feel the distance but where in the world is my tongue–daydreaming in my mouth.I drink more tea hoping that it will be jolted awake by the unbearable heat of my pu’er tea like a woman who feel asleep at the sauna reddened not only by embarrassment but by the sheer heat.

Once and for all it all turned magic
and the girl could see she could not age
and she could not die

that all her loved ones whereabouts
were deep in her heart
because her and them were
one another
It all turned to magic
and the girl danced a calm and grateful dance
as the great spell that plagued humanity dissipated and from her countenance sorrow was lifted  

magical, the world has always been magical

Among my prairie of tears, I planted
sweet corn singing

One deep breath
and the day rises with your chest

the beaming has always been beyond the tiny entrance
of that cave, a cave you could not fathom
would be so deep and so profound

Just appreciate your youth
go wear silly & funky stuff, cut
your hair ,change your hand writing
go for a new pair of shoes
Dang, pick a favorite new color every week
until you cycle through the rainbow
and then do it again
change what you think young is
Pull of the masking tape that says 20, clean off the sharpie lines that read 40, laugh at the fact that next it you wrote 60, baby head for the jugular and once and for all liberate yourself, no age is the right age
for feeling youthful and fully alive
no age comes with requirements