at entrance of a forest on a hill watching
the great pine trees grow older over
your head; there the birds take flight in the distance

and my eyes burst into rivers, converging at a deep valley shaped by the slow
passing of the years

How did my father survive the streets of LA
a young dark skinned man
a mixed blood being in his prime

I flash back to the time he shouted at me while teaching how to drive
a  simple thing like me hanging  a small dream catcher from the rearview mirror
was enough

“They can stop you for any **** reason, Pita” he’d say.

what I didn’t know was that he was right
and what he did not account for was that I would not be seen as a dark skinned male the day I got pulled over in Davis, Ca by a cop and I stepped out of the car and walked straight up to him and he walked to meet me and asked me “Ma’am have you ever been pulled over ?” I replied “ no, this is my first time” and he smiled as if he’d popped my cherry. “I figured a small and smiling girl didn’t get of the car with the intention to start a fight” that is what my father did not understand
and I wish I could say I understood at that moment
and I wish that officer would of understood too that the only reason he did not pull a weapon on me was simply based on what I looked like

My heart is in healing mode
it want to sing, dance, smile and find the small delights that bring joy into my  life
it is too early to open it to anyone
my heart just wants to love itself
even more so
return to its own home
it wants glide on its own wind
roam its own forests
be sweet but not spoiling of others around it

I like that the people are sweet gum hugging you. You are everyone’s “daughter”
“My daughter” this is how my mother introduces me.

I adore looking at the elderly holding  each other as they start playing the ballads
they’re bodies like mazapán
fragile but the looks they give each other
suffice to sugar the landscape

I like to see the children run through the dance floor
on their faces joy is enlarged

The music is loud and constant
–and it becomes our bread of life

When the going gets tough I get a little tougher
The kind of tough that holds my hand and says “gal, it’s gonna be alright”
These months
I make sure my waves of laughter are in sync with the rising moon inside in of me

I bake sweet cake and ice it with sugary hope
I make sure I steam all the vegetables
to make them –soft enough to chew
So that my body receives nourishment          
and I can make through these days

My left foot steps onto a cloud and then the right foot proceeds
before I know it I am walking celestially
unencumbered
I want to perceive and understand what else is there
What other inner cabinets of aliveness await
the endless curiosity unfurls from my eye
and so I keep hopping
taking step one step at a time
from one cloud to the next

Limbs of mine
become workers,
plowing land and discovering
how fertile a ground
And how lively a mind’s garden can be
when worked with gentle hands
through out every season
and under every phase
of the brightly lit moon

My my
my little pumping heart
little ocean of hope
birthing Venus over foam
my earthly tether
my Tonantzin bringing new life
into my breathe
my my
my miraculous corazon
dancing in my chest

my neighbor is named cricket,
she is quiet, pale perhaps in her 70's

my housemate says she lives alone
when you ask her a question she looks

her body softens and she walks closer
then she leaps back after giving an answer

It feels so raw so fragile
a pink bubble gum bubble blown out falling back a little, creasing when it beats

my sister she carried the light into my hands
with each of her strong unmovable
words

Sometimes my skin falls off and I step down the streets naked of all thought
the wind fresh touches the wet saliva on  my lips
my skin tender it shivers
my soul light it feels only calm

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

I dreamed I carried you close to death
dying
over my shoulder
and your  breath so weak

I asked you where you like to go
“ to the place we met” you could not speak
“It’s too far, right” I answered my own question then I awoke in pit of sorrow
in a pool of my strength the next step was over the floor into waking life

Then, I knew that I accepted
I would be there when you died
,if you like me to, if I was still alive


I would not promise a life together
the arrogance of such promises
are mythologies of the old world
dying
of old humans wishes to exceed even life itself, control what on lips of heaven
neither angels can affirm

but i knew if you were willing and if you are able
I will join you on that day

he sets the phone on the music stand it is tilted
so I get to see  half guitar, half chin
and a left hand sliding like an elegant dancer over
the frets of his classical guitar,
it has got L.A in it ,
east L.A,
Candela's east l.a  to be precise

Segovia, Bach, Buckley,  my wish to hear flamenco are  all
tucked under the sweat of his brow
when he is done with each piece
the world ends but when he smiles
and asks "what do you think?" it begins
again our chatter , fast spitty and through a smart phone

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

Nothing is a competition–I stand in my own being.

<<Es que nace un mundo nuevo >>
–Mundo Nuevo,Lila Downs y Alexis Puentes

Si, lo puedo sentir en la forma que siento la rotación del planeta–

Es verdad nace un mundo nuevo
y descuelga frases antiguas, y surge como contrincante
con su paz permutando toda las previas formas de comprender y operar con algo más lleno
más bello

viene erradicando fronteras
y con su amor deshaciendo los límites impuestos por un mundo viejo lleno de miedo
miedo de vivir
miedo de morir
miedo del infierno
miedo de no ser suficiente
miedo de escasez
Miedo

Se muere todo esto que perpetua el medio
y nace uno mundo nueve

un mundo lleno de amor
donde solo su calidez impeliera
y naturalmente desde nuestras entrañas surja

y no necesita que tú lo llames
este mundo viene entre nos
mira las criaturas las flores los peces y los niños ellos son el mundo nuevo igual que tú

y desde adentro toma sus manos  
tu costado
tu vida
y tú ser

es que somos el mundo nuevo

There are stories whose depths I do not know.

Narratives whose wounds I can only touch with the tips of my fingers
if allowed to.

Journeys that involve blood
and sorrow
the two of which have not been drawn out of own skin
but out of someone else.

There in my hands is the summer solstice
with its prolonged warmth
my midsummer dream tilts closer to the sacred
the Tropic of Cancer
and the flowers dance honoring the sun
and although is wish to dive into the past
I must be brave
there are better things
brighter things
things that will bend naturally towards my light

yo y los girasoles
amamos la luz

los girasoles y yo
retoñamos naturalmente

May it take you
and fly you close to every dream
that still wishes to flutter
in the nook
neath the left side of your ribs

I call a new dynamic into place
a loving
nourishing
appreciating love
that expands because it is fed
who knows of devotion

And wherever it abides
–becomes the very home of love itself
All are welcome to it's cove
to be a good resting place when times are hard
Love that inspires more love

I call a new dynamic into this year
So I turn to myself
And ask " are you ready to be more:
loving
nourishing
and appreciating?”


I smile at my reflection; little lady with some bright dark eyes
I feed my body, sleep and make sure to clear my mind with mediation and prayer
I hold the my limbs in the bathtub and rub them
thank you for walking me down all those roads
New dynamics are here unfolding
opening their hands and gently leading you forth
I try to pay attention to the whispers

How do you raise a strong being
with a resilient spirit

you raise them knowing they are cherished
and just as divine as the plants and the animals and everyone around them

they will carry it with them throughout their entire life


and when someone tries consciously or unconsciously to grasp for control and power at they expense of their opinion, authenticity and their light

they spirit you helped raise will feel
the drastic shift in intention
they will feel the thickness of manipulation
and rest on their anchor of self in that  love and cherishment you showed them abides eternally with them

And having arrived at that open never ending space they will calmly
turn towards the words of control and say “no”
simply and confidently “NO”

To the quiet tiles and the slow rocks
that are
to flesh over bone that is
To the body and the mind that are time bound
and to the cosmos in my being which are not
The dweller, the dweller cannot die because it was never born ☺️

I could hold a foam sword towards you
but only from a distance must it
look real, this bluff of mine–

unzipping my mouth like a coin pouch
to reveal its teeth would do little
no words would change into a charge of bulls

a faithful distance
for the harmonious well being of an  aging
heart that needs a steady home that I cannot provide, this bluff of mine is played –

adorned with this old regalia of indifference, so heavy it stops me from running to where you are, forgive me—

every time I grow silent and distant it’s a bluff not on you but on me who loves you. The bluff is one me—

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

la vida se disuelve
y la calor de ayer persiste
en las temporadas adequadas
y al imaginar tu cara frente a la mia
yo tambien
me quiero disolver
      
          d
                i
                    s
            ­    o
            l
          v
             e
              r

entre esta primavera
con la esperanza que mi coctel de átomos
llegase como postal a tu dirreccion  

en noches como estas el pacto que hizo el alma
con el cuerpo se quiere deshacer
pues me gustaria ser libre
para ir a sostenerte

y preguntarte <<¿Que te pesa?>>  
<<¿Te puedo ayudar a cargarlo?>> 
 y finalmente decirte
con sinceridad que <<por ti no me rindo>>
por ti, en tiempos como estos, me deshago

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

I found myself wishing
I could give endlessly

how I deeply desired at one moment to put aside all my needs and try to have “no needs”

I kept reprimanding myself for wanting care, someone’s time or something  as simple as a letter. So fragile was my thick wall of “I have no needs” that all it took was a friend kindly saying to me “it is okay to have needs. You should have needs” to tear down that wall.

Everyone needs love and that is undeniable. No amount of “I have no needs” can keep you afloat.

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)

There is no such thing as “normal”;
When you try to create “normal”,
“Normal” chokes everyone involved.

life dissolves
and yesterday's heat persists
in the right seasons
and imagining your face in front of mine
I,too want to dissolve
      
               d
                    i
                       s
                  s
              o
             l
                v
                  e

between this spring
hoping that my cocktail of atoms
arrives as a postcard to your address

on nights like these the pact that the soul
made with the body wants to undo
because I would like to be free
to go embrace you

and ask you  << what weighs on you? >>
and << can i help you carry it? >>

and finally
tell you sincerely that
<< I won't give up >>
for you, in times like these, I come undone

The best things are priceless their weight in gold has been paid for by life and they enter into this realm as unstoppable commands of life

nine days of prayer
ceaseless for you
as you transmute

warheads and bombers
      are tied clatterings
of just-married cans tying us to war
again

Diplomacy should have married
the bride, but here we are
to war again

Someone steal the bride
someone make the picket signs

For I, too, refuse
to go to war

We find courage when it feels like there is none

The expansive space of adequacy that stirs
along side the deepest most naked reflection
a mirror could give
greets us

Now, from here is a good place to set forth
from here forgiveness brims and you perceive
we are all just **** under all these garments

No nos desampares en el corazón de nuestras oraciones extiende tu mano y toma nuestra voluntad y devoción al amor por nuestros prójimos cesa la sed y el miedo y como la flecha a la marca impulsa los hacia adelante y aquí en nuestro hogar reine el amor pues tanto mal no puede ser todo lo que hay. Madre nuestra, querida luz de la luces, abrazo a nuestra ciudad con tu manos y ternura.

May this be something with the potential of humanely beauty

Not:
one who gives and another who takes
that could be classified as exploitation

Not:
two selfish people who only expect from each other because if expectations are not fulfilled tyrants can grow resentful and angry

Yes:
to two people who give and nourish one another in this dance of life leaning on each other when needed, and springing back up on their own two feet so as to not lose themselves in the identity of each other

Yes: to partnerships deeper than personality and skin that bind at the spirit
and whose intimacy becomes richer with the years

Yes: to unconditional acceptance & love–
no judgement zones, the space to be openly flawed without shame

I see the oatmeal boil in hot water.
That is my mind I think to myself, and that’s all human lives lifting as they are born and sinking once they died

The objects of memory
are soft,
little fingers of a child
discovering the world for the first time
the texture of moss archived on their index and thumb

The objects of memory
are gentle,
kind words like  “muy bien” &“you did it”
as salt water drips down your cheeks and you exit the calm Pacific for the first time to be embraced after with a long soft towel

The objects of memory
are subjective
sometimes lost in the suppressed ocean of “too painful” & too lonesome hiding under a bed

The objects of memory
can be cold,
like the touch of a coffin you couldn’t  see over back when you were only a few feet tall or the feeling you got years after
as you stared from above at your grandparent or the touch of their hand as they lay there


The objects of memory
can be transcendent
like four hours of mediation finally
breaking away the clouds
As if it were mighty Poseidon
just to find Buddha under the bodi tree behind the Stratus cloud


the soothing waves of ocean
during your 100th brand new encounter
lingers in the fervent gleam of today
as you collect new objects of memory

I am loved and I should soak up the small gestures of kindness by friends and let them marinate. I am loved and able to let unkindness slide off me because it not a reflection of me; other people are my teachers. And no one can take away the love that is  already mine– everything everyone has poured willingly with into my cup. I am loved. I am a bright beautiful being and so are you.

Oh dear how we wake up to hold the clouds and the sun
The rain and the splendorous shimmer of our being: lightness on this earth

Oh dear how, how can I cry for this long without being seduced by the trees,
the flowers, and the howl of my own deepest nature

I cannot
so I run off like toddler smiling towards today
“Come on” I tell every part of myself

And then there was wind and then there was fire and then there was me not giving a flying ****... and oh how sweet that was!

Oh Nina when I hear your voice from the speaker I am overwhelmed and the guards standing at door of my eyes lose their composure

“ I get along without you very well” plays and I silently cry in a coffee shop

6:49 pm
the smoke and pollution blocked out the red sun over Los Angeles

The crows circled over the 105 Hwy
and the whole sky was ominously glowing