may the goddess grant me pardon

Alas! I know not either Thy mantra or yantra,
Nor how to welcome Thee,
Or how to meditate upon, nor words of prayer to Thee,
Nor do I know Thy mudrā,

Or how to lay before Thee my griefs;
But this I know, O Mother!
That to follow Thee is to remove all my pain.

from hymns to the goddess

forefront

current challenge: staying aware of all the good things about myself.

the divine.
the essence.
the light.
the warmth.

the be.

originally posted 6.30.2010

understanding 2

realizing
i am the gentle healing,
the breeze before the hurricane;

the first answer to your cries
to the universe.

if you can learn your lessons
through sweetness,
i'm a blessing.

ignore me,
take kindness for weakness
and my affection for granted,
i remove my asé
and the fires begin to burn.

après moi,
le déluge.

i will always
move on
will always
be whole
with
or without
you.

choose wisely.

snippet

me:  whatchu doin?

him:  That artistic genius thing I do that you like so much

missing love

i miss my loving body.

meaning
the way it changes
and rounds
and curves
when i'm regularly loved
touched
held
and ecstatically pleasured.

elementary

platinum blonde
kewpie doll girl
turned beet red
at the slightest embarrassment

really embarrassed
discovering
certain touches don't
go well with classrooms and
the prying eyes of peers.

in hindsight
i wonder
what happened to her at night
and other quiet moments at home

wonder
who was hurting her

hoping
no one hurts her now.

writers always have 99 problems

some time ago, i decided to write in real journals instead of plain spiral notebooks, as a way of respecting what i was doing and honoring my commitment to never deliberately stop writing again.*

problem is, i can't afford one of my nice, pretty journals right now.  it'll probably be another week or so before i can.  

yet, i'm running out of space in my current one.

being low on blank pages is quite aggravating.  trying to scribble freely while fearing that you'll run outta room simply doesn't work.  screws with the flow.

so the bottom line is that i haven't been writing much, and my brain's starting to feel clogged up.

still, if i start in one of the plain spiral notebooks, i'm gonna have to ride it out until it's full. i could paste the used pages in the new, pretty journal once i get it, but...eh.

decisions, decisions.


*long story

body art

i kinda wanna write about my tattoos.

i know. how played out/cliche is that?

but i do. kinda.

i'll think about it.

understanding

oshun mends my heart.
sango sharpens my mind.
ogun lends his machete.
olokun gives me rest.

i am grateful.

the once in awhile

most days, i don't mind being single.
it's not something i think about a whole lot. 

but when i have a bad day--
the kind you can't plan for, 
days that make you want to run and hide,
or stress you out...
the ones that dredge up the bad memories
or ugly habits...

those are the days i wish
i had someone i could look at
and think,
you know what? fuck it. i've got you.
and you've got me.

those are the days it hurts.

primordial {revisited / continued / expanded}

for each of us as women, there is a dark place within, where hidden and growing our true spirit rises...

these places of possibility within ourselves are dark because they are ancient and hidden; they have survived and grown strong through the darkness. within these deep places, each one of us holds an incredible reserve of creativity and power, of unexamined and unrecorded emotion and feeling. the woman's place of power within each of us is neither white nor surface; it is dark, it is ancient, and it is deep.

~audre lorde, "poetry is not a luxury"

i came face to face with this deep, dark womb-self recently.

interestingly, she is veiled, cloaked in luscious merlot red.  the occasional urge to wrap myself in gossamer scarves must come from her.

i can only sense her face...but her form is less important than her energy, her gifts.

she is sensuous, ethereal...real yet fantastic.
a lover of garnet.
a lightness possessing the gravity of eons.

and somehow,
almost unbelievably,
she is me. 

{other primordial post}

caught

hips rose,
meeting
the scent of rose hips
and cedar
buried in
neck hollows.

mood

blue.

pondering

dark night.
new moon.

thinking of what i've gained so far,
and what's been lost.

wondering what the future holds...
what new things will fill currently empty spaces.

lots of changes on the horizon.

i hope i can keep up.

(b)aka girls singing, cameroon

more on the baka people