wama: March 2008

26.03.08

flower blossom and bubble. rain streams down in rivers straight ruled. my head hangs low as I leave this place. the flowers cushion my trek, but going in never easy.

25.03.08

he sits and watches by the shore. his elbow on his knee, other hand on hip he waits. the ground beneath us crumbles and cracks. you kneel far in the backgound, looking up to see me hovering and floating above. you resemble orion, ready to shoot your arrow, always on guard. my skirt billows, my arms ourstreached, I dance and hold a thick black cloud above my head. the cloud gives off steam and attracts streams of moisture from the land below. in this canyon we wonder if we can hold on for as long as it will take.

25.03.08

he sits and watches by the shore. his elbow on his knee, other hand on hip he waits. the ground beneath us crumbles and cracks. you kneel far in the backgound, looking up to see me hovering and floating above. you resemble orion, ready to shoot your arrow, always on guard. my skirt billows, my arms ourstreached, I dance and hold a thick black cloud above my head. the cloud gives off steam and attracts streams of moisture from the land below. in this canyon we wonder if we can hold on for as long as it will take.

24.03.08

a bird flies away, a girl runs behind holding a string, the bird is a kite flying low. they are at the edge of the forest and beyond that last wall of trees there is no telling what will come next. behind her a tree foks like a road and a Buddha turns her back to look out over an open expanse below two looming camel hump cliffs.

23.03.08

too many things going on to see much. two women across separated by a thick dark evil eye a sea. except for the distance and the murky desert between them they are the same woman. one dressed as a princess with flowing curls down to her ankles stands facing front with her arms open flung at her sides. she turns her head to avoid the bright sun and to appear as though she knows where she’s going -- “that way, I’m headed that way.” and she would travel except that her gown is too cumbersome. she cannot move not one step. she is stuck there in the constant stance of someone about to leave.

in her future, she cuts her hair, releases herself from the prison of fabric and sits apart from the world on a mountaintop looking out at a volcano below. her house is a simple shelter that covers her head but is precariously set on the rocks below.

across the way the other woman wears a simple dress as though she is in the house. we can’t see her legs but she also is planted. her right fist is raised and she looks meaningfully to her left poised to fight the good fight. her left hand is also raised more out of fear than solidarity. if she could run she would. her head tilts up to the heavens pleading.

in her future, she walks as a traveler up a mountain path carrying only one small bag over her shoulder. before her is a small house/hut light coming from the open door, welcome and waiting.

these two women are connected by the surrounding open horizon and the teardrop shaped like a fist that protects them.

21.03.08

we leave this place and go to santorini, atlantis the lost world. a crescent of rock and ash wrapped around a volcano. we hover above the highest point in the island with views of the caldera on one side and the open sea on the other. we can see each tip clearly but we turn our backs to east and west and face each other. you over there. me here. I look at you over there, waiting, sitting on a rock with your elbows on your knees. waiting for me. waiting. you are calm and hopeful -- tho sometimes a bit bored with the situation. and me, I’m crouching with my stomach down against a boulder as though hiding in plain sight. or I’m hugging the stone as though I just climbed a cliff to be here. we face each other but we cannot see each other at all. I know you are there. you know I am here. between us is a thick cloud of smoke and a long stone wall. the wall is not high, it is just there to mark the boundaries of this land here and that land there. I sit behind this wall. beyond the stone wall there is a two headed monster made of smoke and ash bubbling out of a chink in the wall. the head that faces me hovers above and wraps a finger around me protectively. I don’t feel any safer, just claustrophobic. your head looks determinedly at your scalp looking for a flaw, a mite, one hair out of place. its as though she wants to scold you, but you look past her -- this is not something serious, and is not really what separates us. riding just above the shoulders of the monster scolding protecting, a pyramid-like puffy cloud spurts sparklers and fireworks. a bright light guides us. your sun, my moon.

20.03.08

is it you or is it me?
well one or both of us is stomping away with big strong strides forward. there is no path before us -- wide open. wide open. fresh and clean. wide open, wow.

we blaze a trail of fire - feet gush flames -- with each step.

you or I speak in fire to test the way ahead. a back pack bulges off our shoulders. below there are beautiful girls - one a bird, the other a fish -- asking : “where are you going? why are you leaving me so soon?” behind, behind, behind are all the doubts and worries and ghosts. my hair is short and under your arm you carry the sun and the moon like a pillow or a soccer ball. we push ahead no matter what the mermaid and bird-girl below say to coax you/me to stay.

19.03.08

ayer lei las tazas de dos otras.
para la chica, las molidas dicen:

tu vayas y es un tiempo muy light
pero tu cuerpo anda por un camino y tu cara por otro. estas mirando atras a una tierra bonito y amplio con montañas y llanos y para ti el cielo con las estrellas, la luna, los nubes -- todas celestial esta atras. y hay un gusano muy sabido -- el te espera pero el tambien mirando alfrente … el veo tu camino.

al frente de ti: un bosque con raices muy ciertos y fuertes. los arboles son grandes y altos -- es un bosque bien viejo. y tu cuerpo anda alla, vas al bosque. los arboles tambien son personas y ellos te saludan: hola que tal. ven aca mijita. te esperando. el bosque de arboles/personas tiene una densidad familiar y agradable y puedes quedar alla por un rato, quizas años… pero tu camino continua al otro lado de los arboles/personas saludadas. el camino esta, pero lo que te espera afuera del bosque no esta bien claro. es un lugar de fog y nubes -- pero no es una malediccion. al contrario es una invitacion.

despues, ella lo pongo su dedo en la taza:

la fundacion del bosque ahora no es tan cierto, tan estatico. ahora se parece mas como un mar fluido con olas que mueven en la direccion del camino tuyo.

para el hombre:

hay un arbol grande y fuerte, verde un pino -- como el cedar? grande grande con raices fuertes y saludos. a la cima del arbol hay un eagle con sus brazos outstretched. preparando a volar. pero ya no vuela. y los nubes son muy debajos no hay visibilidad -- el eagle no puede ver el cielo, ni su ruta. espera a la cima, ha preparado.

abajo, a la izquierda del arbol grande grandisimo, hay un mono. el sube una rama muy estrecha y delgada al lado del arbol. el mono mirando al aguila con confianza. el no hace nada, pero su presencia es como una motivacion para el aguila. una necesidad por su vuelo que viene… de pronto.

al otro lado hay bombas. hay fuego. y un choco de gente juntos, corriendo en la marcha. pero todo esta en la distancia --- muy lejos del arbol y el vuelo que viene.

15.03.08

you walk away. Hands behind your back
caminando … alla. Manos atras.

Desde tus manos un scorpion sube tu espalda con milliones de piernas y brazos
Al fin, llega a tu oreja -- y habla en una voz subterranean con palabras inconstante, palabras de aviso pero --- tu no tienes confianza no lo crees tu.

If you just walked down to the shore you would find a dazzling starfish waiting there for you with better news.

16.03.08

the moon smiles. Una sonrisa como un rocket brillante y con fuerza. She smiles and the waves and mountains greet her hello… hola guapa.

At the edge of the word the sun the sky the sea and land all meet and whisper about the moon’s beautiful smile. “what would we do without her?” they ask each other and nod their heads. Then shake them, because they think of their world a dark cave without her shining.

13.03.08

mountain lions bird flying bullets you screaming for help your arms branches of a tree -- a balloon going up + up a man on a horse, skinny like Don Quoixote approaches -- tells you -- ‘it’s okay it’s okay.’ an arrow finds your knee.

ow.

09.03.08

you lay on your back -- a divan supports you. A voice, a fairy, a devil floats behind you whispering in your ear. You keep your back to him. Above, in front, ontop of you a cloud, a spook a witch an old woman scares you with her warnings while she pushes into you your legs open wide --- but you face scared then calme then enjoying it then angry and jaw set to push her off but you like it so nothing moves or changes.

A girl dances arms high celebrates she carries water + bread on her head she cannot see what you see. Behind her a tree or a river -- and a proud explorer a the summit waves a flag. He tries to get your attention -- sends smoke signals. You small the smoke but can’t find the message.

03.03.08

hay una mujer con una niña. Ella le adora su bebe nueva.
Hay un choco de madonas alrededor la casa. En cada rincon, muro y puerto. Ella nos cuida.
de la noche cuando dormimos, a la mañana -- nos despierta; y por la tarde -- ella esta cuidandonos como la mujer con la niña pequeña, limpia, brillante.

me queria tener confianza.

02.03.08

guns in the air. Red flares litter the dark sky. I walk by the river and hear pounding not far enough away. A blast throws sand up and out. Snoopy on his dog house flying to meet the red baron. If only it was as simple as digging a trench and facing the enemy.

wama

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