On My Dance, Take I

Come into
my witch’s cauldron
big, black pot
with iron, clawed legs
and a wide base, for rooting down down
down into a fiery pit.

Brewing, stewing, steaming and rising,
swirling, twirling, bubbling and oozing.

Step into
my curandera’s cocina
where leaping frogs, slithering lizards
and reptiles
with pitch-forked tongues
rest dreamily as one wandering eye
marks the time
of fluttering butterflies
and creeping beetles,
an Earthly, potent magic
assaults the senses.

Pungent, putrid, and foul-smelling,
Fetid, fragrant and divine,
aromas
of the sacred and the profane.

Ride with me
on my bruja’s highway
with its twisting turns and angular perceptions
a fluidity of space
as flying forms
evolve in the night
and as we
blast on through
to the other side.

Walk with me
on my shaman’s land
holding my hand, stroking my cheek
and whispering words
of an uncommon language,
of places too celestial to tell
of a world too godly for thought
and of an existence deeply rooted and tied
to all that is

painful, joyful and complete
sad, excruciating and extreme

whole.

('cuz it's just #$%^&*( HOT/Rad/insert your adjective here!!!!!!

My Victorianism

A backlit silhouette
milky curves,
softening angles
she lends a hand

up

a powerful force
this thing called desire
its roots
root
rooting her
down down down through the earth's crust
exploring the exotic terrain
in wet jungles of possibility
he lurks lurks
lurks like a prowling cat in the grass
in the knee high, high grass

spinning, twirling, a kaleidoscope of shape, form and light
she rises she reaches up up up
                                                                                         (photosynthesizing in the light)
he extends, he reaches down down down
they grab hold
a cosmic collision
of fire and water
air and wood
earth and sky
body and spirit
male and female
radiating, penetrating

piercing
shifting plates
upthrusting rock
shooting out shooting out shooting
pow!

a black hole
and another universe is born.