Dark Mother

Dark Mother of mine

You crush me

With naked, fibrous vines

In the depth of your teeming womb

The darkness floods

I let it drown me

 

Nurtured by dreams of Nature’s vast bosom

I rest in the bathtub,

There’s no light

Just a tender belly

And you, Dark Mother

Suffocating me with life

 

Dark Mother, what I see churns within

The frightening, thunderous force of yin

Turning the world like an elemental hologram

Feasting on light like my pale skin

 

Dark Mother moans, listens, heals herself

Nourishing the muscular primal fibers

Of my innocent, divine, masculine child

Frozen and malnourished

Over the ages, lost in the wild

Tremblingly clutching the steel cord of destruction

But brimming with Dark Mother’s

Angry, wild poetry.

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On a Grassy Hill…No, in the Forest, Home

Swinging from branch to branch

This is where I belong, he says

This is where I feel so free and happy

The world down there

Is filled with thorns,

It’s so painful.

 

He opens his arms,

Looking at the sunset,

Feeling the wind on his face

This is what matters, he says

I know that this feeling

Is what everyone down there deserves.

 

But no, he says

It’s not just that

It’s about the people too

He wants to slap them,

He angrily, jokingly points and spits at them

But he wants to give them all

A big warm hug, he is blushing.

 

We stand in a circle,

Holding hands,

He has so many friends

No, he says, not just friends

But the people I deeply love.

 

He takes out the thorn in his foot

The others look down,

They pull out their own thorn

But not everyone is ready…

He wants to help,

But he doesn’t know how, he says,

To do that right now.

 

We lay in an open grassy field, she says

Looking at the sky,

Holding each other,

Our faces are touching,

We are so happy, she says

But also sad, but our sadness

Is also part of our happiness.

 

He looks up at the sky

It reflects in his eye,

His beautiful eye,

Now he’s doing funny things

He’s on a hill, flexing his big biceps

With a tiny head,

Now he’s walking backwards into the forest

Goofily waving his hand in a peace sign,

Now he’s poking his head in and out of the trees,

Now he says thank you

Go now.

 

And so we returned.

 

The dimensions collapsed

And I was left sitting across from her

With the sandy walls and thorny ramparts

Slowly collapsing

Grain by grain, thorn by thorn,

Unearthing the moonstone

Entombed in my chest.

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Continue reading “On a Grassy Hill…No, in the Forest, Home”

The Garden Won’t Fail, So Set the Mesa

The backstory for this poem stems from the industrial backdrop of the photo below.  Not that industrial is evil.  It is just suffocating the tropical permaculture garden we’ve planted on campus at UMiami.  There’s a reflective metallic container just to the right of the big gravel heap, in the far back of the photo.  That’s where the hose and water pump are.  The contracted company hired by UM to build a road through campus excavated the ground between the garden and water pump.  They’ve cut out the pipe feeding water to the irrigation system for not only the garden, but the arboretum here as well.

Continue reading “The Garden Won’t Fail, So Set the Mesa”