I am Everyday People

Although my skin is white I don't consider myself caIucasian.  Why?  Well growing up Italian/Catholic I always felt less than.  Definately NOT white bread.   During lively last Saturday night my dinner companion made a statement,  "Last one in guards the door."  I guess "Caucasian" was a made-up thing (I am not a historian and don't profess this to be accurate), but the last two ethnic groups to make it "in" were the Portugese and Italians (Caucasian isn't really a race?)  And the poor Italian & Portugese smucks got the job of guarding the human race door.  That's a lot of responsibility.

So I start thinking, I think and think, I'd love that job.  This girl would start letting in as many people as she possibly can.  Wishing my feet could still skip and jump and dance like a 20 year old, I would sit quietly at the human race door, like the elevator operators used to be at the State Capitol.  Sit there with my word search and letting people in and giving them a ride to wherever they want.  Kind of like a cosmic elevator operator.    See? 

White - ok, well, we don't have to exclude them
Black - absolutely
Brown - Hispanic, Latino, Chicano, Mexican, etc.
Asians - yea go ahead and let them in Japanese, Chinese, Viet, Hmong, Indian, Indochinese, Phippilino, Korean and then some more.
and
Homosexuals  yes, LGBT and all the other fucking colors of the rainbow.

We could keep slicing and dicing people into what they are, but in the end we all pee and crawl into bed and dream of a better life.

Basically, whenever I get asked my Race/Ethnicity I always check the "Other" box and write in Italian American.   I always check the "Other" box. 

Spring's New Moon Wind



New Moon Attitude Adjustment
soy cappuccino
a la chocolate fish



Spring slipped through the crack under my door, an unexpected visitor.

A heatwave tempts me to abandon my coat and scarf for a sundress and sandals.

A balmy soaky storm doesn't last nearly enough to water the bulbs to burst and seeds to sprout.

A cold wind blows pollinated perfume through my hair and throws tender blossom confetti that gather like snow-drifts in the corners of my heart.  

A soy cappuccino soothes my agitated soul and strawberries promise warm weather ahead.



my left wrist

My Left wrist
                          always
              Adorned with four
                                      silver
                                      bracelets
                Each tell a story
                Acapella wind chimes
                                         unbearable sadness
                                         unfathomable joy
Four silver bracelets
             an unfinished poem
on my left wrist, always

Aren't you getting a bit carried away?

After so much suffering, if someone asks us "Aren't you getting a bit carried away?"  Why don't we just go ahead say "Why yes I am and thank you for noticing."  

Awaken my friends.  Buy a bright pink purse instead of black or brown and stuff it full of all the things you cannot live without.  Run away from home, like I did 30 years ago.  Just get on a Greyhound use with a white suitcase and good for nothing musician with a penis and mustache. 

What I didn't realize was my mama snuck her broken heart amongst my cigarettes and strawberry lip gloss.  I can still smell the sulfur when I strike a match.  My own body odor after three days with no shower.  

What I didn't realize when I look in the mirror, I see the green eyed beauty who has been running away ever since. 

Waz' fortune cookie inspiration

Winter Solstice 2012 (12/19/12)

All I am arises with my very own thoughts.

A red cross-grain ribbon left over from a gift-long forgotten,

a bright pink lipstick, too chicken to wear, the hum of the dryer.

The clutter on my desk distracts me

Sleepy but the words of this Poem will keep me awake

Until (unless) I let them spill out onto this page.

“All I am Arises”

All I am arises with my very own dreams

If you had asked me when I was

Six years old what I wanted to be

When I grew up I’d have said

“The President of the United States”.

It never occurred to me I couldn’t until

Someone told me so.  Well since I’m not

“The President of the United States” 

you may guess the impact that information had on my dreams.

All I am arises with my very own desires.

A lover once told me I wanted too much. 

Love, passion, family, home, friends, fun, adventures, intimacy, the salty spray of the ocean in my hair

Pretty much broke my heart in two when I realized he was not the one for me.

I wasted so much time with someone that doesn’t even deserve to speak my name.

All I am arises from the depth of my soul:

A fierce heart of a mama bear

Fairy wings of a butterfly

Strong tail of a hump-back whale and

Roots, trunk and branches of a redwood tree.

I am ALL that arises

I am all

Dance as if

Installation November 2011

Dance as if
your Life depends upon it.
Make it a performance of a lifetime
the audience is you and you alone.
Don't hurt yourself
but dance as if
it is the single thing
that will save your Life.

Step onto the dance floor
as if you are entering a
time-machine.
No wound or illness too
grave to be healed.

The salve is your own
sweat.  Dig a little deeper.
Drop the exterior
hard candy shell coating
and let your chocolate center
melt.

It is the filmstrip
of your Life.
You get to pick the background music
and turn the knob
to the next frame at the beep.

And when you get to
a part that hurts,
heal it;
or a part
that is joyful
ReJOYce.

When you're tired, Rest
in the valley of the
music.
Catch your breath in the gutter
and rev up for the
next wave
of energy
to Live you up.

Rewrite the Parts that went
wrong and set yourself
on a path of Enlightenment.

Bask in the beauty of  your Uniqueness.

Know you are loved.
Know you are loved
because you love yourself
first and foremost.

Be your own temptress,
seductive and smooth.

Graciously in-vite yourself
to a table laden
with all that
will nourish you
mind, body, soul.

Recite the incantation
to the Mother
the Father
and
Holy SPIRIT

Feel your heartbeat to the
drumbeat.

Annoint yourself
with the holy oil
take a sip of

the flowry elixir of inner peace.

Don't be afraid.

Set the world ablaze
or
Crawl inside a fur coat and
 purr, purr, purr.

Originally written 10/27/2011

Shift in Blog Posts

I have been randomly and more seldomly blogging but with a renewed energy I'm going to be posting some poetry I created during 5Rhythms sweats.  Exposing my innermost thoughts on the Internet is a bit scary, but I figure.  Why not?  Over the next few weeks I will post some poetry Ive done, along with photos from the Art Installations I've created to celebrate our holiest of prayers.  The Dance.