Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Emplumada
Cafe Solo
I loved you
with the scientific
excuse of the lonely.
Now I watch the streets
smog out of focus
or zoom in brutally
on the tragically beautiful.
My eyes have met no one's
all morning. I have forgotten
the purr of my name.
I remember only the brush
of my cat's teeth
when she tells me
she loves me. For weeks
the only lesson I've learned
is that the leaves of the apple
are finally turning. Everything
has let go. There are days now
that go by without a sound.
I could be anyone.
Once I was a person
who loved you.
Beetles
A man who once loved me, told me
I knew nothing of beauty.
He had loved a double
more beautiful than I.
I'm hexed by a girl of pale heart,
a dove who wouldn't circle in day.
The thighs of her jeans are speckled with mustard.
Her hands are in her pockets too much of the time;
if they left, they would be birds, fragile, humming.
They are right where she puts them.
She's a farmer, plowing
the gray dirt.
She loves the land, its
ugliness.
I'm an ugly woman, weedlike,
elbowing my way through the perfect
grass. The best of what I am
is in the gravel behind the train yard
where obsidian chips lodge
in the rocks like beetles.
I burrow and glow.
I burrow and glow.
Lorna Dee Cervantes, Emplumada
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Summation.
"Flowers bequeath their fragrance to the hand that bestows"
A Personal Mantra, seems to stick with me and influences how I perceive things beforehand and looking back.
More than ever, I've realized this now.
Today would have been my Abuela, "Lita's" 90th Birthday. More of a Flower than most.
love and light*
These things relate, I feel. Trying to piece them together
transparencies, masks, applications,
expectations and assumptions. Identities.
Sometimes things come together and other times they
seem to d i s s i p a t e . . .
xo,
Lo
Simmer Down.
“Man is least himself when he
talks in his own person. Give
him a mask, and he will tell you
the truth.” Oscar Wilde
talks in his own person. Give
him a mask, and he will tell you
the truth.” Oscar Wilde
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Bobby
Well, if you go when the snowflakes storm,
When the rivers freeze and summer ends,
Please see if she's wearing a coat so warm,
To keep her from the howlin' winds.
Please see for me if her hair hangs long,
If it rolls and flows all down her breast.
Please see for me if her hair hangs long,
That's the way I remember her best.
I'm a-wonderin' if she remembers me at all.
Many times I've often prayed
In the darkness of my night,
In the brightness of my day.
So if you're travelin' in the north country fair,
Where the winds hit heavy on the borderline,
Remember me to one who lives there.
She once was a true love of mine.
bob dylan
When the rivers freeze and summer ends,
Please see if she's wearing a coat so warm,
To keep her from the howlin' winds.
Please see for me if her hair hangs long,
If it rolls and flows all down her breast.
Please see for me if her hair hangs long,
That's the way I remember her best.
I'm a-wonderin' if she remembers me at all.
Many times I've often prayed
In the darkness of my night,
In the brightness of my day.
So if you're travelin' in the north country fair,
Where the winds hit heavy on the borderline,
Remember me to one who lives there.
She once was a true love of mine.
bob dylan
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