La Llorona

Sky high

2011-05-13T21:31:00.000-07:00

The clouds are full of the water of life, I float there sometimes when my babies don't weigh me down as much as they usually do. The lightning charges me and I can almost feel the shaking, glorious energy coursing through my body, if I had a body.
My energy sparkles with the lightning and the glittering droplets around me are gems, not simple chemicals. And thunder, I shake, I dance, I drift on the sound waves until I am lost only in wet, energy and then the rain takes me down, down, down into the ground.

Bottom scrabbling

2011-03-14T22:17:00.001-07:00

Weary, walking
sulking in the darkest corners of , what? I have no mind. No chill way to think at all. How am I here at all? Sometimes I hear a little wanderer and I think my children have come to find me. But how can they, they have no red scarf to cling to. No bread crumbs can lead them the crows have eaten them all. Beautiful ducks talk to the bottoms of the bosque and my children have lost their way. No, but there are no children, only me. Only me.

Fragility

2010-09-24T08:54:00.000-07:00

I thought I would be untouched by the passings of those with flesh still. I thought the whispers of their hearts could no longer be mourned. The touching of that time to this, of their blood to lost laughter, of the thump-thump of movement throught the aether so like the halted beating of their hearts. I was wrong.
As I am the ancestor, I feel my twine about me. As I am the ancestor, I know they are about, on the other side of the world they pass and I know because the lines are strong green blue red and ancient.

Trees

2009-08-26T08:23:00.000-07:00

I am tangled in the trees now. The birds are annoying and noisy. the wind whips me throught the leaves like they aren't event her but the bark grates on my non skin forms and sometimes I can't even feel like I am breathing, not breathing. Something. The wind and I have become one but I cannot leave with it because these green and brown branches have me tangled in their wining, cracking existance, I think they are sucking me into themselves like making me part of the trees or perhaps even trying to pull me through the sap into the rings and linse and cells of the interior itself and yank me into the ground so I can spread throught the roots and disperse into the earth. But I am not ready to disperse, I must find my children, my poor dead children, Do not take me yet mother, I am not ready.

Timeflow

2009-03-26T09:06:00.000-07:00

Todaytomorrowyesterdaytomorrow all is the same; not one from the other creeping voices coming through. All times are the same, daynightdaynight I can hardly tell which is which. Mostly by the level of activity around the world around me not by the cycles of the sun. I think I am gradually becoming less of me and more of the world and roundings. But without me, my beating, my floating, my babies will dissappear and I can't do that they are slopping into oblivian with me for who is there to remember them when I am gone. I can see their faces and smell their smells and oh how I need to wrap my arms around my babies but where are they and how can I keep from slipping away?

River route

2008-11-14T23:44:00.000-08:00

Am I old enough yet to be forgiven. Who is to forgive me. The Rio Grande won't. Black and brown water slugish and flowing to the end of the world. the trees are solid one minute, burning the next and I am still lost. Forgiveness tastes yellow and blue but how would I know. Only I imagine that my babies can look at me with love again but I cannot believe it.

Heartbeat

2008-07-07T07:51:00.000-07:00

It is so long since I have come to the surface. Since I could sing or breath or feel my heart beating. Today, I can almost feel those things. I can almost dance on feet I haven't had for 100 years. The pink sky and the pink of my heart can almost beat together. Something has changed, the scent of the river, the colors of the day. I am soaring, like my children are close so close that I could have them back in the next few moments, or the next few minutes in this timeless way.

Color

2008-01-22T20:33:00.000-08:00

Troubadour of color, singing greens and lavender to weave all the world into magnificence. Sometimes all I see is color, blues and wines interweaving. Those are my happiest times when the loss can fade into the pinks and greys and heart ache, heart beats, and heart flows fold into each other and all is just layer over layer and colors of laughter and colors of life and sadness are all one flower engulfing me into silence.

Live

2007-12-11T22:06:00.000-08:00

Swimming today, moving, remembering muscles but not finding them. The sensation of sinues, so simple, the soreness of hard work, the heart of beating restlessley. Thump thump of a broom hitting a hanging rug. You are so lucky who can feel these things, I pine for life as I pine for my lost children. One for the other the other for the one and all are gone now.

Pulse

2007-09-06T20:40:00.000-07:00

Have I been 500 years or two? Where are my babies, why can't I stop acheing for them. The brown earthy scents of them, the clean baby hair of them. The blood of them. No - no blood. No heart beating down where each pulse makes more flow. No. The scent of blood, the river, the pouring swirling red, rojo silent and screams gone and just stillness after the kicking and weeping only as my heart breaks again and again and again. Why did I have to remember the scent of them. It always breaks down into bloodness. Sour, thick. Ohhhhhhhhhh I ache in my heart and my skin and my hair and all those other imaginary parts not left to me. My pulse without a pulse.

Sleep/no sleep

2007-07-24T08:50:00.000-07:00

I remember sleep and how that could bring the me back into myself
on days I was frustrated with the children I could sleep and awake and forgive myself and them
Now there is no sleep, no refreshing shine in my eyes, no eyes only I
It was in those last days when I had no sleep
as the darkness and red fear overcame my sleep and I lay wide-eyed as my babies cried through the night and we waited together for morning
which we didn't know would come.
It was in those days my mind slipped into some melting, sour world and
my babies became different entities to me
and finally, together crying, we slid into the blisfull cold icy water flow.
But I couldn't catch them and they flowed away, their eyes wide and surprized as they called
maman, maman! and held their arms up and out to me. I couldn't touch them, I couldn't feel them and they slid from me in the cold
I found a rock and the men found me.

Ruse

2007-02-03T22:36:00.000-08:00

Swimming, sharks but it can't be sharks for they do not live in the fresh water but....but I don't know where to go from here. Looking looking glooming about in this darkness. Today is indeed a dark day because I can't seem to come out of this muck, mud, swirling sandy dirt in the water and there really are sharks here.

Newness

2007-01-09T23:07:00.000-08:00

If I had newness to me it would be slickery not round and soft as it was when I was alive. The breath would rise and fall in a smooth white chest and the heart would beat ... ah yes, just beat in its red, blurting strength.
But I digress, if I had newness I would not have warm smiling children and lovers of half-breed darkness. I would live in a city, tall and cold so as not to be harmed by matters of the heart.
It is the earth, the soft warm earth which was my downfall. The smell of the quiet brown sucked me under and my children, covered in leaves were first before I loosed them in the waves, drizzles, flow.

Power high

2006-12-24T08:48:00.000-08:00

Christmas sweets, chocolate in the air but only in my imagination as I drift down the remembering river, cruising the waterways to my last holiday with my babies and their laughter ringing in my ears as the little gifts are shared.
The trees hang here with light unlike the little houses we shared when we lived. I can settle into the electric center of the brilliant colors and lose myself in the energy around me forgetting for small moments the history of death.

Feathers

2006-12-08T21:26:00.000-08:00

If I could breath, I couldn't breath. A hawk hit a pigeon, hard above me. the feathers fly, drift, and float all around and through me.
I remember laughter, it floats down with the feathers, as once a pillow, filled with light down burst in the laughing of my children and there were whitesoft everwhere. In our noses, in our lashes and we had to close our smiling eyes to keep them from watering.

My child one

2006-10-23T12:29:00.000-07:00

Brown, cinnamon smell in the kitchen. She is a wave in my heart. Her lashes play with my cheek remembered. I cried when.
She did not sing. She floated confused in the darkness. A last wail of maman in the night. The cold took her smallness fast.
The mud she loved didn't see her.
But I remember my little girl, playing outside in the straw and the warm mud of spring. It caked her hair and her toes as she giggled in delight. And I had to laugh I could not scold.

Farther

2006-10-12T23:18:00.000-07:00

I can smell blood today, I think it drifts from the past across the ocean from the lands of my fathers and mothers where war and damage were par for the course. I can smell blood in the river bosque where distant memories put me on horseback although I no longer know what is a horse. Cottonwood trees even set my drifting aside because teh ancients are becoming more real than today to my floating existance.
But where are my children.
Anna so brown, so dark and laughing. Not shy with her hair in bright ribbons and black braids. And Andreas with his big eyes and eyelashes to the sky and liquid tears which never fell to his cheeks but set the reflection of the moon off.
Where are my children? Where are my children?
I can smell blood today.

2006-10-10T01:36:00.000-07:00

Create me
flow me, can't I have original thought but only under the sun and I don't know how long it has really been since I saw the sun.
create me create me create me. Let me out of this box.
Of Pandora where are you when I need you. I just want to live.

Taking out the trash

2006-10-01T21:37:00.000-07:00

Taking out the trash, I wander through the garbage of my mind
How, I say, can I even have a mind for I am of the death world.
Am I an echo?
I don't feel like an echo.
I think, I feel the wind, I feel the thoughts and senses of the living.
I am
I know that
but what am I?

Water

2006-08-25T18:33:00.000-07:00

Water...so sweet. I can flow with it you know and pretend I am water and so escape for a bit from the plagueing self-awareness which wraps itself around my non-existance.
Water is that soft flowing and I can flow with it without the effort of mind which nessessitates constant self awareness. I can pretend to be dead. I can pretend to be alive. I can pretend to not be confused.
I could flow forever with the water. In fact I think I have felt some flow past who have dissipeared themselves that way. Un-responsive, un-aware.
But there is always that random thought, thet bug, that little trip of conciouness which catches me before I can elude it and slip into oblivian.

Problems

2006-08-13T09:20:00.000-07:00

Whoever wants to play, let's go.
Will you play with me?
I tried once to play with this small girl. All blond and fluttery. I went in to see from her eyes, to play from her mind and feel from her joy. But the joy became mixed with my saddness and when I fled the saddness stayed in her. No more fluttery, smiling she child only a curly ball in the grass. Now I think only of my Mita and see her in a curly ball in the grass and when I want to play I choose raccoons and skunks, their saddness centers on their children too.

If I Were...

2006-06-23T22:17:00.000-07:00

If I were a month, I would be: October
If I were a day of the week, I would be: Monday
If I were a time of day, I would be: midnight
If I were a sea animal, I would be: Jelly fish
If I were a direction, I would be: South
If I were a sin, I would be: envy
If I were a historical figure I would be: Me
If I were a planet, I would be: Ares
If I were a liquid, I would be: mercury
If I were a stone, I would be: slate
If I were a tree, I would be: a willow
If I were a bird, I would be: humming bird
If I were a flower/plant, I would be: lupin
If I were a kind of weather, I'd be: breeze
If I were a mythical creature, I'd be: a Unicorn
If I were a musical instrument, I would be: a flute
If I were an animal, I would be: mouse
If I were an emotion, I would be: bitterness
If I were a vegetable, I would be: cucumber
If I were a sound, I would be: a moan
If I were an element, I would be: water
If I were a song, I would be: classical
If I were a movie, I would be: A Boy and his Dog
If I were a book, I'd be: The Bell Jar
If I were a food, I would be: white wine
If I were a place, I would be: White sands
If I were a taste, I would be: lemony
If I were a scent, I would be: hibiscus
If I were a religion, I would be: Christian
If I were a word, I would be: Ghost
If I were a body part, I would be: a rib
If I were a facial expression, I would be: a stare
If I were a subject in school, I would be: chemistry
If I were a cartoon character, I'd be: Bugs bunny
If I were a shape, I would be: an ellipse
If I were a number, I would be: 4
If I were a piece of jewelery, I would be: single diamond earing
If I were a piece of furniture, I would be: an antique chair whith a hard wooden seat and high back
If I were a car, I would be: Lamberghini
If I were an item of clothing, I'd be: a translucent nightgown

Slipping through the cooler

2006-06-23T20:46:00.000-07:00

I am water today, sliding into a home through the reedy natural smelling cooler pad on a swamp cooler in the desert.
The home is clean, neat, comfortable with niches for Indian pottery but containing bright glass sculptures instead. Pink adobe curved doorways, lots of windows. A sad dark figure stood at the desk to one side. Still, stareing into nothingness.
Suddenly I was terrified.
I slipped out through the fan above the stove, the soot puffing out of the little chimny before my exit and following me too. Anyone watching might have worried about fire.
I glimpsed the dark sad one through the window and thought I might have seen the glint of gun metal in the hand, the raising of the arm, the pop. But I fled too fast to be sure, terror escalating into panic.

Told

2006-06-21T22:07:00.000-07:00

Tell me where I am today, I feel particularly lost, slimy and unwholesome.
The children around me remind me of life and taste and sex and sensuality. Will I ever feel again? I visited my mother. She was not weeping.

Water

2006-05-31T15:25:00.000-07:00

I am sneaking down the river, although why, I have no clue as nobody can see me. I am a ghost after all. The silt and oil slide through my being and I perceive them in a gentle, lulling way making me almost sleepy. If I could only sleep. I wouldn't have to think all the time.

Pretty in pink

2006-05-26T17:16:00.000-07:00

Watery watery graves are awaiting those who don't dare
can't you see I'm still here.
My children don't even know I haunt them in the night
much less in the day.
But some perceive me here.
Some
know my tickle
And you never know who will respond.
There is this prettyinpink girl who is the most shallow, flappy kind of think you will ever imagine but when I touch her she giggles this pretty annoying giggle and slaps at the place, like I'm a tickly mosquito or something.
Sometimes as she is in class, and the work is quiet, I will fiddle with her hair and she'll let out this little yelp and ... everybodly looks up and snickers.

Sliding into the something

2006-05-26T16:29:00.000-07:00

I slid into the mind of a city commissioner this eve. It was gloomy and dark in there. He had no thoughts of color at all, only this string and that of darkness sometimes dirty green and sometimes a speckle of crimson. Remind me never to check out that one again. I can't even find any watery ends to tie there. Urg.