I choose love

wandering the streets of NYC
I have a plan
to not have a plan
I slowly float over tiny brown puddles
waiting for you to get out of my way
sorry that was mean
I mean, I’m letting you pass first
stuck in between a black wrought iron fence
and a tiny yellow dandelion
I choose love
Yes,
I choose love–

death

you texted so many times
complaining that you hadn’t heard
from your next door neighbor for days
I awoke to 77 or so texts between you
and our other sister
the worry in your voice
breaking through the tiny words on the screen
I told you to just
fucking call the cops
when it comes to things like that
there’s never time to worry
just time to act
and today
you told us
again
through text
that your neighbor is dead
Your fiancé
found him in a puddle of his
own vomit.
He had either overdosed
or just got sick
while he was
detoxing
41 years old
wife just left him.
he checked in
and checked out
of a rehab.
didn’t like its structure.
wanted to do things his way.
what was he thinking in his
last
final
moments
hovering over the bathroom sink
or maybe
falling in slow motion
onto the bathroom floor?
I hope that last sight or smell was somewhat
pleasurable
maybe that time you got a balloon
when you were 5 years old
flashed before you
or maybe it was one last final waft of
grandma’s cheesecake
before you hit the ground
before you took one
last
final
earthly
breath–

Red Mask

Red Mask
Costa Rica
A coast I’ve never been
starting back at me
morbid eyes
Glistening open
Listening closed
How many more minutes
’til we wake up cold
wet
tired
defeated
unthinking
but somehow
changed–

Vision Quest 2014

As I was walking down the path
of wet green grass,
I suddenly heard my mother call my name.

“Kathy!”
and I stopped dead in my tracks
Ringing
Again–
“Kathy!”

I felt a sudden fear
that she was here

Quivering tears falling quickly
down my face
Hands covering eyes
Hot blood rushing up–
The same voice my mother used
many years ago in another dream
Smoked that dust and found myself
in an imaginary, but very lucid hospital
“hearing” my mother call my name
yet all the while I was lying in your bed
when coming to–

And this time
when I realized the echo of my name
was not real,
and was,
in fact,
another hallucination,
or rather
this year’s Vision for me
here at our last Vision Quest,
as I will soon become a mother
myself–
My mother’s call
connecting me
chaining me
bridging me to her and me to mine
and in this understanding the Universe delivered
and I accepted fully that
everything’s fine–

The Cord

The
red
pulsating
organ
has been
designed especially for me
for us
the cord
vibrates
bringing you sustenance
bringing you life
one of the many bonds that will
sustain us
that has sustained us
that will continue to sustain us
long after it has dried up and fallen off
it becomes invisible to others
yet you and I know it’s still there
synonymous with the cord
that ties my being to my mother
and her mother to her mother
and to all females
to all goddesses, to Mother Earth
and Father Sky
You and him
have brought forth this power
to he and I
and now us to her
and she will continue to drift
to develop her own
one link to another
a large chain of being
that
lasts
indomitably
for
all
eternity.

All Mine

I woke up this morning to a
denial letter.
You didn’t say why
You just said, “Sorry to say”
I wanted to know what was wrong with it–
the roaches?
the south bronx projects?
the brutal honesty?
Did it not sound enough like the poems you wanted
the bullshit you clearly think is good?
I thought I sounded like some of the greats
the women who fought against injustice
who rallied against anti-feminism
who spent time
line after line after line
recalling what we all know in our hearts
despite what generation we call our own
But I decided not to ask
in fear of further rejection
in fear of a truth
in fear of a lie
because I know
I’m quite fine
I know
because my writing is
all
mine.

Fine

The day has almost passed
I’m lying on the crimson colored bed
dreaming of your violet sanctuary
in the next room over:
Where the cherry blossom decal will go
Where the “C is for Cat” picture will hang
If I want to add the pink and lilac ribbon garland
above your head
and whether or not your tiny books
need bookshelves–

You and your mother are almost done
building the honey colored breakfast nook
Sage green cushions wait to be sat on
Zoya, our cat, has already tested them out
We think we might have gotten a wrong part
And so, my patience is being tried–
But it’s fine
I think
it will be fine–

It is fine.

Cycling

praying for divine inspiration
to flow from head to heart to hands
What will come out today?
acutely aware of word vomit
and all the subtext that comes with it,
I will keep my thoughts in humility
and gratitude for all the messages
yours or mine
as a new day cycles on
and on
and
on–

Start a New Day

My eyes still closed–
blackness envelops

the bedroom and all
the space around me.

with my third eye,
I look down upon

the wax figure that
represents my being

and I blow air into it,
billowing like a balloon

until it swells to the edges,
leaving no more space

to fill, and here, I’ve
woken up, my eyes are

now open, and I’m almost
(almost) ready to start a new

day.

 

Sands of Time

Closed eyes
Watchful eyes
Beautiful, blue
shimmering eyes
Blinking back teardrops
into a spoonful of honey
Waiting eyes
Blissful eyes
Waiting for the moment
when you will arrive
Sands of time dissapearing
into a dark, cold oblivion–