mermaid (Day 17, NPM)

mermaid

I could say it was the blinds half opened when the pillows were pushed into them.
I could blame the incoming sun, holding you.

I do remember the moon was bright

small of clouds circling it
forming their path from the horizon.

The bedroom curtains start to spin against the wind,

ushering in this winter solstice –

we close the windows quickly

the wood floors go cold soon enough

tip toeing, we make our way upstairs,

where it’s always warmer
and we stare out into the bright night.

braving the winds

(we want to be part of this night),
we dress and head for dinner.

toward morning I can see you glow

cake (Day 16, NPM)

cake


we take pieces of her like cake,

her ears are Bobo’s, the way they twist out like that on the tip

she has her grandmother’s legs, my forehead

 

whose nose – do you know?

 

running (Day 15, NPM)

Running in heels

Right or privilege – do you have control over your own body?

chosen (Day 14, NPM)

chosen


belief in fate, love across a crowded room, or love at first sight
will only get you so far.

you ask me when I began loving you
but there are moments where I find myself not loving you

long before time mattered
you chose me
and I chose you
and in the great sleep we allowed ourselves to forget
but the promise laid there in the warmth of our chests

you almost can't believe your luck, to have found me as you have,
but I know we were always meant to.

underworld (Day 13, NPM)

underworld

 

Resonant skin, that stretched cloth around your gossipy bones.

We carry, on these thin sheets, fragments of time

coming off our fingertips in flakes,
they whittle/rub down the past, revealing small hurts

Each time I’m touched more of me wears away,

the underneath slowly revealing a ruddy world.

your love (Day 12, NPM)

your love

 

your love is a lake

your devotion a wind chime of bronze roses

the touch you give a soft scarf and sweater gloves

       affected by the slight wind
    rumpling the surface

social (Day 11, NPM)

social

Like bees walking carefully

We walk through these parties
Trying not to offend another

This socializing is meant to be joyous,

Despite bird eyes made

 

off San Pedro Ave. (Day 10, NPM)

I've lost it now
saw you once
then kept trying
to find you

2nd floor hallway,
no one really fitting in the apartment
the neighbors bribed with beer
to allow the racket.
you perched in the back
with your sticks and bass pedal

we did and continue to avoid
each other's eyes.
though now you are truly not
going to be mine

I should have known
after all we worked at being an omission
in the other's life, a blur


even acknowledging this,
i remember the click of pool tables
the slick walkway to my garage apartment
the moon's light across your face
your eyes wanting me

mama said (Day 9, NPM)

mama said


mama said he should have known better, trying to just be nearby
not committed but rooted

mama said there are men like this
who can't be pinned down
because they don't know themselves

mama said this is where we must realize
we have to be wise
beyond wise

and not waste our time and energy
not give our gifts so easily

to those who slip into another's life too easily

to those whose hands stay behind their backs
while your hands are so full

spider woman (day 8, NPM)

spider woman


she created the world by dancing.
the twirl of her skirts without the heaviness of its bravery.

the cosmos endlessly twirling,
the energy of our creation building.

warrior mother
mistress to women
nurse for the wounded
gatekeeper for the dead
whispered breath for the return to living

spider woman skimming the land's terrain,
marking each grain for the first people


note: this was a poem for Monday but, somehow, i keep adding to it.

jeweled (Day 7, NPM)

jeweled

the dragon returns home
no longer alone, now beautifully wed

her scales a mastery in detail
her eyes a kind of call
to what, never answered.

still, there is trust
in her jeweled walk
her belled hips a fantasy

her tender steps, her very toes,
a tango heard in the distance

flirt (Day 6, NPM)

flirt

red lips make all the difference
in bubbling up my giving nature.

lucky you, the beneficiary

mapping (Day 5, NPM)

mapping


mysterious heart
a metaphoric map to the origin of ourselves

more than what makes us who we are.
rather the arc of our peoples
back and farther still
before the luxury of written language
before the conquest of culture

a story embedded within cell walls
forged at the epicenter
the universe expanding at each breath
people surviving
despite the lack of answers


surviving because we must,
because everything before us says
we must.

boundary lines (Day 4, NPM)

boundary lines

 

invisible stitching holds me together

finely threaded lines small boundaries for what is (not) said

some don't get the hint: 

approach me with an assumption

it's taken awhile to waterproof the canvas of my skin,
to let someone near but not in.


others aren't easily made ready

they let the world through in a hurricane of sideways rain.
hail arriving in whipping wind.

those are the ones tattooed with a heart on their arm,
the ones who give up as the sun sets
only to wake again with the sun,
the sky a fruitful glaze,
hope restored.

sleep, for those lucky few,
tightens the threading,
returns levity to shredded hem.

linen drape, embroidered by tender hand

Familiar (Day 3, NPM)

Familiar


They call us each in their own way.

*

My child, mind like a countryside, was born on a misty summer evening.
Sun long gone by the time she was truly in my arms.

Small bumps along the window pane flickered in the humid sky.
Lightning bugs marking a welcoming path for her.

Small glimmers to always illuminate her eyes even in the darkest time.
My child protected.

*

Still a child, I sat on just-rained cement, waiting.
Knees up, arms hugging my shins.

Sometimes I waited full minutes for a trail of ants to begin,
a baby frog or some fly to pass nearby.

Still today, small winged creatures find me. Sitting on my morning papers,
walking across the dusty windshield. Nameless beauties landing on my finger or shoulder.

They are a reminder:  to breathe every detail in, to allow the wind to move me
while deepening my root.

from scratch (Day 2, NPM)

from scratch


there are different ways of trying
but the truest test is still,
when sitting in your car,
whether or not you want to head home

some say compromise is a loving act
don't be fooled
it's rather a way to lose the self, ounce by ounce,

then use the loss
as the rationale behind having no center,
looking for answers elsewhere.

love is building yourself up,
informing others who you are,
and following through

the hard work is in saying what you want,
making it very clear,
and not forgetting.

only in this way do divergent paths make the way,
everyone knowing your truth,
until we are smooth as beach stones.

sexto sol (day 1, NPM)

sexto sol


after a long day with you, a nap makes all the difference.

a moment in the bathroom to dress away from where you sit at the bed's edge
waiting patiently.

we've lived together long enough
you know my clothes

it's hard to surprise you.

still, i try,
find a strapless
because you just don't love
my shoulders enough.

makeup and perfume
new playthings i enjoy now

ah, your slowly building smile when you finally see me

the night:

   a lesson in the difference between cumbias and mambos

   a careful dance of chicano soul and blues haikus

   the art of a trumpet and the streets overrun by drums

   an ex always in the room

   strangers lovingly touch backs to move through the standing room only bar

   a meal shared with friends


I close my eyes for a moment and you ask if something's wrong.

I look through my body my mind and my spirit and say I'm good, my everything is humming.