Friday, December 20, 2013

November Senryū ~ 2013

November Senryū


mizquitl tree | her place to sit | write letters to the future

this morning I wake | hearing jazz from your last room | know you are here

cuando dice un beso | siento miles | por todo el cuerpo

for survival | The People danced | all evil away

untangle this mess | we've made of Turtle Island | for children’s future

dance the balance | dance back clouds and rain |dance dance dance

we pray for the world | we are tiny bits of light | in the mother's web | 
born powerful in word | our deeds should be for right 

Georgia we miss you | secret smiles tucked in brush strokes | what a legacy

though innocent | our babies learn early | they are presumed guilty

sometimes praying | for loss of ones who've not loved | enough to deserve us

frosty autumn moon | full winter forecast | icy wind her companion

crows calling warnings | telling cars to quiet down | listen to the wind | 
they say on the avenue | we so need to free ourselves

we traded places | you love my Great Lake city | I fell for the Bay

in the thickest rind of night | when moon-void-of-course | sky a thick inky soup | 
she dances in the dark | wanting loved ones to return

a bigger purpose | our lives a journey to live | leave a legacy

your mighty voices | the sea's roar crying out | for all those now silenced 
they void green worlds |turn them sacrifice zones | non-places where rivers burn

sand paper scorched | heart bleeding for a sure loss | mind guilty of hope

we are born and sprout | grow into lanky wild weeds | then one day we go | 
with luck we sent out shoots | that bloomed brilliant as the stars

mornings I hear her | voice muffled through glass calling | I'm still here on the path | 
of a destiny foretold | zigzagging trouble

mother tree a legacy | elders passing life |to the next of kin 
death leaves a hole | we try to fill with living | and love an answer

misunderstanding | heartache wanting to be healed | when words aren't enough

smooth wooden boxes | relics from days before | cardboard became home

she is from this place | her blood mixed with rainwater | red earth in her skin

puny in comparison | to that which rises | a natural son | 
or stardust and light daughters | not needful of false fingers

she flies away | always returns home | to her city by the bay

our ancestors die | pass away into the light | in time we follow

Copyright © 2013 Odilia Galván Rodríguez. All Rights Reserved.

Friday, November 01, 2013

October Senryū ~ 2013

our ancestors die | pass away into the light | in time we follow

you sometimes lose | to people who don't deserve | the universe decides

bought a goodbye pie | for her loved ones to savor | and think of life's sweetness

her voice resonates | across time and space she laughs | while singing heart songs

tender the knickknacks | our love not bank balances | we cherish memories | not material trifles | in the end love is what counts

nine days to journey | to earthly places | you loved and cherished | to say fare-well familia | say hello to ancestors

tomorrow she cuts her hair | power sacrificed | for future heals loss | sign of endings beginnings | ancestors return again

a little one puzzles | learns to decipher | letters into words

she is traveling | to that emerald green light | which cradles the stars | ancestors smiling | down from the Milky Way

tears flow to release | this vigil of life and death | a slow dance

oftentimes there's fear | in taking that unknown path | but not if you trust | your ancestors will guide you | into the light

knitting memories | into scarves to be worn long | in to the future

days turn to weeks | wait almost unbearable | every door open

it is a good day | trees changing their hair color | for this life transition

life we took as fact | in the end we remember | is so precious

leaving this world | has it's own time and labor | a lot like coming in

Sunday, October 06, 2013

March through September Senryū ~ 2013


though violins cry  | your name still lights up the room | your smile remembered

a new song playing | you hear it calling you there | in that unknown place

a birthday blessing | no one you know passed on | today we celebrate

it is a journey | to be at your side | one last turn around dance floor

when your name is called | towards the sound of shining light | no turning back time

you a flower song | with heart to change minds and worlds | living in the truth

when you go | you are not gone | you are forever my heart

she's on her crossroads journey | an end beginning | searching for the moon

truth sets you free | if you know the difference | between that and lies

it was a red day | seven sisters bound by love | a rite of passage

what you plant with heart | is what you harvest in love | oh beauty of life

words do their work | shake worlds to the core | they enchant and live

believe in beauty | it's all around us to share | war is no answer


clouds welcome flight | even those with clipped wings | feel the freedom

rain keeps falling | as if all the world's grief was | trying to be healed

grounded on account of rain | sun keeps shining through | rainbows of trouble

the sky broke open | poured its life out in buckets | some stranded rejoiced


most nights she stares up | into the celestial | cemetery | of long ago extinguished | stars she's wished upon since birth

she longs to visit | your starry land and stay there | searching for the moon

she remembers childhood things | the way red earth smells | ancient before rains | like chaparral and copper | the flashing of thunder beings

today rain fell in | ropes lashing the windows | penetrating dreams

her mind travels there | land of palms and teal ocean | where time flows slower | 
people seem happier | for the natural world

now their gaze | doesn't worry me much | but how it creeped inside me | young and almost defenseless | I feel their cruel eyes chewing | at how I see | others like myself | the rule I use to measure | my kin whisper in my ears | it is all a big lie

heat bakes its way in | concrete construction ovens | retain its fire | 
the people lie in hammocks | trying to capture cool sleep

winds wear cruel heat | a shawl whipped around shoulders | its fringe shimmering

rose moon the color | of strawberry fields | forevermore the goddess | 
returns for summer solstice | reflected infields of light

raindrops land spirals | on newly formed pond's surface | lights flicker and fail

across time and space | your resplendent heart's | sparkling love still reaches us | 
and heals the abyss of loss | no more grief of your passing

a year of heartbreak | of uncertain certainties | yet to be revealed

she wants to shed light | in the darkness that prevails | nine candles shine bright

sunny day hides clouds | perched on deftwings of rain birds | call forth a downpour


everyday a rose | of a promise that is this | our beautiful lives

she has been shattered | but beauty shines from the shards | she will be made whole


family is not | only about DNA | it's about love

she's always known | who she is cien por ciento | ignores the doubters

no party to cover ups | she shares what rings true | no limitations

first day on the job | inserts holy foot in mouth | insults half the world

if there were only darkness | thoughts of you would light | up to shadows that turn ash | then deep purple that births dawn

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Border Bound

"There have always been borders
for a people considered other
in their own land."

Tejas 1938
terrible signs

she cannot read
but someone translates
you can not sit there
here is where we order
take our food to go.
In school, the teacher tries a smile 
as she shows their place
sits them all in a huddle
at the back of the room.
Sister says, speaking Spanish is bad
will be repaid with a ruler, or worse.

the Rio Grande

bad medicine
having a father
found face down
in the river-border 
between here and there
both sides were his home and
dark spirits rise
from such deaths
to negotiate a crossing
to a place with no confines
the ultimate other side.

it is not so easy
if ones spirit clings
to this life’s plane
refuses to move on
for unfinished business
or reasons of their own
restless, they refuse 
to find peace
these spirit become walkers too
constantly crossing the living
trying to find home.

the sleepy border

the border was not serious
not a force 
to be reckoned with
people and things crossed
that's how the word illegal
was made popular
because our own 
United States was lax
on how it policed this edge
of its new world.

new world b-order

The bigger and better border is
no deterrent to a people forced
to work as slaves in sweatshops
and on US corporate farms
in Mexico
people find a way to survive
there are ways around
and under obstacles
the powers that be know this and
when it’s convenient, look the other way
their hate turns to a sick love, again.

Present Day

the neo-cavalry chases
new Apaches
Cora, Comanches, 
Huichol, Papago, Pima 
Tohono O'Odham and Yaqui.
There is an indigenous invasion
Thousands coming north
Terracotta people
Who all look the same
To those who hate
anyone who doesn’t look like them.

Coyotes the two
and four legged kind
perched on the ledge
observing prey lost 
on the outer part
the edge 
separating us
from ourselves
worse, from each other 
between these 
broken and split


Sunday, April 07, 2013

NaPoWriMo ~ National Poetry Month

Oh my dear poets, readers, and friends, I had every intention of following my usual custom of sharing a poem a day for National Poetry Month aka NaPoWriMo, right here... But being a person who moves and lives from place to place on a regular basis - know one ever really knows where I might be from month to month; I've decided to dedicate a blog to Spring, to April, and to National Poetry Month by putting up my poem a day in it's own new home.  So to find me and much of my writing for April, go here: April Blooms, hope you'll be glad you did!

Sunday, March 10, 2013

February Senryū ~ 2013

just for today she forgets | preciousness taken | what can never be

she wants to stay | away from all who knew her | before time moved on |
and took her seedling away | wants no talk of it ever

nights she cannot sleep | for baby's incessant cry | forever silenced

the best medicine | is her child's catching laughter | keeps her tears at bay 

sun smooths its way | past dark hostile clouds | enters her heart with joy

death is absolute | though some believe in return | she believes spirit

homespun men and women | once backbone of a nation | that's turned its back
on its people dependent | on parasitical life

stark and angled planes | the midwest has mystery | hidden by its trees

willows weep their loss | green flowing hair in moonlight | branches wisps of whips

winter a long sleep | bone white and stark as stones | speaking in tongues

time heals pain | of grief that rips us so deep | in agonizing moments

inept a system | that treats people with motives | far-flung from healing

nightmares walk the day | endless cruel reality | will erase with time

there's a sweet princess | buried in every evil | queen that seems all bad  

fairytales come true | the moral of the stories | stare you in the face

snow turns to grey slush | cold rain soup covers the streets | cars skate over ice

a walk with wee one | down to almost frozen creek | reminds her to cry

skip stones across water | after flailing around | the surface deepens 

memory a painful maze | all paths seem dead ends | lead back to anguish

incipient snow | fall smothers future's promise | spring seems faraway

if she could fold light | she'd harness starshine | back into herself
ignite the spark of life flow | stay the sadness she must face

she unbraids her hair | unloosens the tears | sheers off years of sadness

he came in smelling | the kitchen fogged delicious | of snow and outdoors 

while mourning his loss | she tried not to lose her mind | cut off all her hair

the past is just that... gone

she wants Spring to fill | her days with flowers and song | sun to wash winter

he could not give | her even a sign | of love still broken

laid to rest before | little angel hovers | his time cut too short

she has no problem | getting older it's a sign | of survival

love and convenience | an itch that needs scratching | an egg that needs salt

Friday, February 08, 2013

January Senryū 2013

a birthday deferred | celebration of rainstorms | everyone stays home

her mind stuck on | a fearful future | promises cloudy horizons

she has ripened | past the size of full moon | beyond bursting

apprehensive of | birthing a premature dream | something going wrong

howl what's in your heart | shout what's in your soul | full wolf moon is listening ♥

though never idle | the people now stand larger | wearing their prayers

we worry for tomorrow | instead of living | today is right now

a mind plays tricks | when it's lived a life of lies | denial and avoidance

being between | east and west a middle | child trying to fit 

growing up "American" | with no connection | to your ancestors |
is like being severed | from the roots of your core

solidarity | is not only feeling | with all your heart |
but also lending your voice | acting on your convictions

sometimes we are magnets | for trouble looking | for a place to land

a round dance revolution | invite everyone | trade your guns for drums

brave woman starving | while carpetbaggers play dumb | for diplomacy

while people starve | the fat cats rub their stomachs | satisfied with lies

the beasts of the world | cloaked in money's shiny things | hide their ugliness

s/he who dies for someone | without question | is blind or a warrior

finally awake | the long sleeping | seek out the princess to thank

memory of a minute | ago seems like last year | fades fiercely

she relives | a childhood that never was | being old before her time

the grilled cheese | smiles at the tomato soup | sun melts between bread

snow powders the streets | lakes and ponds want to freeze | over the winter

a thaw of no consequence | temperatures soar | fools only humans

momentary lapses | become a void | of confusion 

will she forget | everything even her name | and no one to blame

some days your heart breaks | you cry and little one asks | are you happy now?

women who birth new nations | come together | no hesitation

holidays | overdone indulgences | continue to bloom

roasted chile poblano | smokes up the kitchen | our food has memories

we pray for the brave | who have no earthly fear | entering spirit world

you can not get through | life without any scars | your spirit lines

 Copyright © Odilia Galván Rodríguez. All Rights Reserved