trippin...

my blood's been acting up again.

don't worry. i'm gonna explain that.

i'm a big believer in symbols (that's all dreams are...and i don't mean in a freudian sense, either. that's why they're important. pay attention to them.), reoccuring themes and things like that. just one of god's ways of trying to tell you something.

recently the issue of understanding the depth and breadth of my native american ancestry has resurfaced.

i know there's some in there. but the strange things are the way i tend to gravitate towards the culture in direct and indirect ways; the way people randomly see it in my face; the sudden desire to see the desert that crept up on me about a year and a half ago.

last night in class we had to meditate, go to a "place" of calm and all that. i decided to go to an island and sit underneath the warm, clear, saltwater. totally immersed in it, smiling at the fish. i've always been connected to water....

but the native flute music they had playing snatched me out & put me in the desert.

hence i'm thinking about this today.

knowing my fear of anything with more than four legs, the desert is probably the last place i need to be. not to mention i'm not big on sand. but i'm being pulled towards it. it was ridiculously strong last year...i shoved it into the back of my mind. but whenever winter comes again....

thing is, your ancestors are like magnets. all of them will pull on you, but some have a stronger hold than others. even in the same family one group of ancestors will speak more clearly to one family member than another.

so while i feel like my resilience, strength, and things like that come from my african ancestors, my spirit, connection to god, nature, and life feels more native (the two cultures, in many ways, aren't too far from each other in those respects. but there does seem to be a sort of intuitive demarcation). i've always felt that in a past life i was some sort of priestess or shaman....i've known for some time that a vision quest of some sort would be a good thing for me.

but my one foot in the "rationality" of western society (no matter how hard i try to analyze and escape it whenever it rears its head) keeps fighting to keep me grounded.

but the more i think about it, the less it feels like "grounding" and more like captivity.

...and that's why the first part of my affirmation is summarized as, "get out, get free".

(see where those damn affirmations will get you?)

unfinished alliteration

bootleg/ boho baby/ buyin borrowed bounties/ blessing beautiful books with/ scribbles and chants/ unknown to anyone/ but herself

spends days singing/ in closed off cars/ adjoining cracked windows/ make her ashamed/ of her not-quite-a-voice

all kinds of freedom are/ just out of her price range/ but things are slowly/ moving her way

(c) 2009 l.a.m.

dichotomy

this may

come as

a shock

but

not everything

i do

is holistic

or even

whole

(you can

close your mouth

now)

sometimes my soul is more

steel-colored glass

than

stony marbled pillars

that delude untrained eyes

into perceptions of

infallibility

however

i am not

always

anything

i can

pollute and cleanse

equally well...

earth mother

one day

hard living whore

the next

...my dreams

speak to me

in both voices.

i know

many faces.

consistently

two steps from divinity

and carnality

i play

with poison

to test my limits

acquainted with healing wounds

and the wounded route

to healing

i know

the two sides

of every story

including

my own

and

occasionally

(to avoid eardrum hemorrages

from hearing god too clearly)

i self medicate

this

is my night off

from purpose

and reason

slave labor

already got my

back achin

so damn

workin for the universe

it can have me back

when i dream.

di·chot·o·my

n. pl. di·chot·o·mies

1. Division into two usually contradictory parts or opinions: “the dichotomy of the one and the many” (Louis Auchincloss).

2. Astronomy. The phase of the moon, Mercury, or Venus when half of the disk is illuminated.

3. Botany. Branching characterized by successive forking into two approximately equal divisions.

(c)2009 l.a.m.

sometimes...

life really is a bitch...

a skinny one

with long blonde hair

walking like she's

got a stick up her ass and

a hanger on her back

that cuts neatly

into her shoulder blades

she has a permanent wince

but she'll blow sand

in your eyes

so maybe you'll mistake it

for a smile

she knows

she's everything

and nothing

...and that her looks

can't save her

the trick is

to pull her red carpet

out from under her

snatch it.

laugh as she falls.

leave her

and her yellow hair

crying on the sidewalk.

call her

what she is

and walk on.

let some fool

who doesn't know any better

help her up.


(c) 2009 l.a.m.