Music. Art. Culture. Writing.
Shift. Through. Fractured. Landscape.
Parched plateau broken,
the molting skin of desert beings
reveals new life, illuminated by
dusky red light inside spheres
of time and imagined dreams.
I. Make. Shifting through time
with daze of black and white
memories. Memories etched
by diamonds into the silvery reflection
of childhood’s mirror. Youth flourishes
behind the masks of possibility,
standing on the verge of imagination
as the world rushes past in a lime green blur.
The child-mind free to create,
heart deep in the life source.
Belly chakra red and vital as story
inside woman waits to be born.
Generate motion intangible.
Body moves through a waking dream
shaped by deep-sea pressure, the press
against gentle curve of spines.
Naked body under soft light begs
desire. Stone against flesh, creation fire
inside the current of yearning with final release
through white cosmic flow.
Hands reach, open the heart
to the repeating curls of history,
to remember noose frames built
from oppression even as now
says no, and this echo, echo, this echo
travels infinite labyrinths of choice and story.
Technology collides with I,
shifting mind of We,
our built space a vessel that can’t escape
a past where horses dance
across the great western wild
and solitary feathers mimic warrior stones
and pierce bubbles of illusion.
Place your glass before you and imagine
a time so slow you could see crystals of ice
evaporate into the Tucson sky,
single brilliant molecules rising
into miraculous blue ether.
And the structure of the word…
carved lines frame and reframe,
scoring stories into earth-metal and stone,
into crushed fibers of fallen woods.
Nourishment passes from hand to mouth
to heart to breath, actions lit
by melancholy glow inside
the chambers of our lives,
spaces occupied by our desire to create,
to make, to repeat and reinvent and make again,
to create We and to make story,
and to place the present inside
the warm embrace of ritual, ritual, ritual.
-Thanks to Kore Press for the inspiration…