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i will stop (never stop mourning)

monday, april 15th, 2019 :: waxing moon 

how our hands hold dream
how we are making dreams when we 
cook love, for our beloved, with our hands 

when we cook yams, and beets, and greens 
and how this gives us our hands back to us 

how we fall in love with experience 
how we handle, tangle, and disturb even the outsides 
of what we want 

i am in so much pain 
i am in so much physical pain today 
and i am breathing with it and then pausing to weep 

the weeping comes out of my body sometimes

sometimes the weeping does not stop 

sometimes i wonder how much longer i will be grieving my mothers grief 

how can i make separate her grief from mine? when really, 
it is a line of beckoning hands showing me their scars 
and how can i say no? 
how can i say no to my own kin? 

i can . 

i can say no. because i love myself, because i care for myself and my life and my dreams 
more than i care for being loved 
because i will no longer shrink myself in order to feel love anymore 


i will stop trying …
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" fairies feature prominently in scottish witch trial records "

.... coming soon ..... 

thoughts on dying ::

what document were you, before he entered
what need, were you, bleeding to her without recognizing it in yr own eyes
why does the page keep disappearing? who are you? what are you? why can’t you See yourself?
these are the things i write when i am sorry. these are the things i write when i am lonely. when i am sad. when i am heroic. when i bring my feelings to the page instead of throwing them on someone else.
we use our words to heap feelings on people we use our energy, our capacity for human intention, which really is a seed of magik, to harm, hurt, lock up, wack, chord, invade, disrupt other people
this can happen. this does happen.
(and it can be seen on many levels)

A question I recently received from Sandra Kim stays with me:

" How can we stop being afraid of how much racism we have internalized? " 
we must again return to the earth \\\\  with the hands of our ancestors, their wisdoms, their remembering of how it used to be, at least in parts,
of the ways of harmony, balance, peace, trus…

of moving, of moved pt.II

echo memory :: june 19, 2018 : 
i am sitting here, in the mountains and i can smell the alfalfa near me. it is not growing. it is tied up, in a bundle. this bundle is for my use. it is for the practice of archery. i have yet to transport it to the forest for this purpose. the smell of it is nice. it lingers. it reminds me of fall, which reminds me of my childhood, which reminds me of my birthday. as i was transporting it, it shed many pieces of itself and they ended up collecting along the edge where the wall meets my deck. i liked this. i hope it liked it. i kept them there. for the lingering scent, but also for the sight, of something beautiful. of a chaotic, kind of beauty that i feel happens the most in the fall, when things are letting go and finding themselves strewn about everywhere, in a surrender to death, to change, to transition, to life.
the rain is trickling, the rhythms of it can be heard against the trees and the rooftop. playing with each other. the birds echo in and out…
cooing, soft night air. i conjure this around me.
i let my bones settle, because often in the city, they are on fire. they are running with electric tires, the nervous systems in me cars. streets and cars, hard metal that comes from somewhere, far away. distant booms, high pitched sounds. i wonder about how we can manipulate our environment with sound, and how there might be sound warfare, and how there is also: sound healing.
because so often in the city my breasts never settle. my bones have a hard time not rotting and becoming the earth, because we must return to the earth, we must return to the earth, we must become Them, we must become Her, be eaten by our chthonic desires, come home to Her, come home to Them, sparkling and dark, moonlit :earth. my bones remember. my bones remember, decay and how to become the earth again.
in winter, i smell death. death is everywhere. i feel like i let parts of my garden (genitals) die out this winter in order to feel cold and aloneness, even as it …


we are walking through worlds, right now. the sun & the earth are shifting, literally beneath and above and between us. (there was an earth quake in so-called california on wednesday). by studying human design’s system of transits, by studying the patterns of the stars & planets and their cycles above, we can sense what plays out below.
how “the Sun is conjuct Ketu in Hexagram 60, Limitation, the Gate of Acceptance, and the Earth is conjunct Rahu in Hexagram 56, the Wanderer, the Gate of Stimulation. Uranus in Hexagram 3, Difficulty at the Beginning, the Gate of Order. All together these energies are creating the Channel of Mutation” (from @humandesignlife, check out her work!)
this is a time of becoming deeply aware of our own limitations. what can we do, and what can we really not do? we have real, physical, tangible limitations. like it’s hard to love you if i am not also loving myself. i recently made a list of things i can do, and things i can’t do.
what i can do: i can say n…