Sunday, September 30, 2007

Womyn to Womyn


Beneath your sleepy plunder I glimpse a shadow familiar.
The sound of your dancing life beat, entangling with mine.

You create a nest for me to cradle within...
A tidal wave rushing upon the ever-changing landscape that is us.

I wrap my lashes 'round the hollows above your own...
Let a tear fall far from my side of the bed, 'til you comfort me in that way I like.

Crestfallen and feather-like, you bury me in you,
Making room for me amidst the bureaus, chests and folds.

A bridge between all and nothing in a sea of solitude,
Beyond oneness and miles into beingness.

I am following you into a dream I dare not wake from
and finding your hand (where ever it is) to hold.



IA2007
Photocredit: Ashlee

Sunday, September 23, 2007

New Moon

Look into the darkness of the sky,
There is a virgin there.
Some say this night
She is a portal,
A muse,
Conduit of the awakened world. Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

See the stars sparkle —
They are her eyes,
Yours and mine,
Steady beacons in the dark,
And the soft winks of the owls.
Stand in aloneness and wonder and see.

Lovers come and go as they will
But the flow of this day, this night
Is the lover unseen —
The love for ourselves and for all,
she comes
On the growing harvest new moon.

© 2007 IndiaA




photographer unknown

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Open Journal: Labels and clarity (& a gay kite)


I get tangled up with the linguistic limits. Seems to me that people tell me they love me when they really mean they are fond of me. And then words like "special" and "wonderful" get bandied about. And then I hesitate to ask what someone really means. "Ummm, do you mean love or do you mean LOVE?" 'Cause, to me, LOVE is static, it never changes regardless of the present situation; it just is. It elicits a different response than just your ordinary garden variety type of love which is a more casual thing. I can love a lot of people, but I don't LOVE a lot of people. I'm pretty selective that way, and I am not just talking about potential sexual connections, either. I am talking about who I choose to devote time and real energy to. So it's important to me to better know someone's intention. And i'm beginning to think that words like "love" are so charged, yet it's my favorite word. So, more to the point, love doesn't need labels so much as love sometimes needs clarification. Fi and K are so deeply connnected, when they sung on stage last night, it felt like they were making love. Although they are not lovers in the sexual sense, they are intimate lovers and partners...as Fi told me, soul-mates. Ohhh, that was my prayer.


Goodnight India.
Sept 9th 2007

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

West African Drumming and Dance



How could you not want to move your ass!!!!?????? Especially at :20

Mushaboom on Ponce

Atlantis feels warm and smells of lavender. Her body stiffens, face tingles, and dark temples of her familiar rise underneath her top.

Her breath catches; she can't make a sound. More pressure builds and heightens her urgency to scream but she stifles it, remembering she has a roommate sound asleep.

Her entire body goes rigid, toes curl, and long fingers clutch at whatever happens to be handy. Movement subsides but curved fingers continue to glide into the boundless wet cavern, making it their home.

The unbelievable, almost unbearable buildup of tension and pleasure facilitate her squirm for some sort of release. Suddenly, her Colorado dam breaks along her watery thighs and she tingles all over with an electric buzz, feeling higher than kilimanjaro.

With a calm, relaxed, and renewed spirit, Atlantis says her prayers,

r0lls over,

and falls asleep,

alone.

Saturday, September 01, 2007

Reason we need to abolish pageants..WTF!




Understanding Each Other


"You're too wild,
woman."
"You don't drink
raw whickey,
but when moon hangs
angled
you drink from
the tilted golden cup,
and
when salmon season
returns
you stand among
river willow shadow
humming,
all the time believing
fish understand
why you are there."

So he left me
to marry one
whose dreams
are laced in perfume
and dishwasher suds.

-By Linda Noel,
Concow Maidu


copied from Tigera Consciente, check her out

Wise Women, A documentary