'mo(o)ns(u)oon' - letters, I series, July

Khali to K:  July 5th... 
When i pray i know cold its been like this long before the crack and
degradation ... and yeah my bed ... i prayed for
not this easy way out of saying im blessed to wake up purified... but
i prefer the hard road-- it has the best view.      
i dont want to drop it right now. so bear with me, it takes a
while. Hopefully i wont lose it this time. In a minute...

No response...

Khali to K July 6th...

With Permissions from K Garman, photographer

...so mourning came easy but missing the words she spoke and wrote was

the hard part. People have called me morose and dark but death does
not disturb me. Loneliness does. But being surrounded by people is not
the fix. I need the words and the speaking and the naming of
unnameables that only she and then me could do.now finding kindred and
now finding words... in and of you... does touch me more than i might
dare to say if i wasnt so embarrassingly bold. But i cant not say so
when lifetimes pass without even one soul that understands another let
alone more so call me needy -- but dont really. Not ever because i am
never needy but fiercely loyal, once i promise to be so. And the only
promise i know i know i can make is just like i hold sacred the
fluttering of wings i hear against my window every time i awaken out
of troubled dreams i do today and always will hold sacred what you
have and will i hope offer me whether words or laughter and even
silences. Maybe things can always  become small to those who choose to...


Things made small by those who choose the easy way but life is made of
these moments. Inspired and grateful to receive what maybe you find
small i just wish thanks meant anything.
Maybe you drifting onto my
path or mine onto yours as happy coincidence? Whatever the case i do
need you to know that whatever this is im not naming it or wanting to
know more than time blesses only hoping time does bless and not
deceive me by some tragedy i am always afraid will follow me.
Well
what i mean to say is EVERYTHING is fluid  for me. I cant fit these
right angles and carry expectations from the back of cereal boxes.....

 no immediate response...

Khali to K, July 8th...
...what you choose to share, to bless? me with is more than i would
ask for but what i will receive because from this moment on i invite
you inside the circle....
its sacred and i know you know what i mean.
Friendship is the most gracious gift i hope for from you tonight. And
dont forget thats well ive said alot and i did say i hope i never
overwhelm you with who and how i am so with that... I let you chill
and dispel any bad stuff from today. I hope you get this
...me...
Much
love.

K to Khali, July 8th...
(in response to all)

i swam then flew then slowed to the beat of the first beating heart, longer
than the 12 count between lightning flash and thunder struck me, your words!
struck me did they just now...you have the style sort of wrapped around
nothing but pure beauty -- Qt -- and shadows, dont forget them shadows.
i am carin' about U but not no more than i care 2.

which means a lot.
Boo!
wow, you awoke me further into the scene of the sacred circle of our trust
between pinkies,
between fences,
between ghetto tags,
between us. i too have
faith in suffering but not with you. no, not with you. its got to be goldenplatinum
and then sum. its got to be numerologically significant like you know we are crossing
our paths just between a lunar and solar eclispse?!?! this is meaningful in no small
way because i do know you. want to know u to your roots, too.

sexual is insignificant. touch is ember. aura? amber. intimacy? i feel it. i feel you in your
smile in your bartering ways in your dishonesty that honesty conveys. it does no harm
to me, for some reason, only you yourself., and YES believe me when i tell you..

suffering is what we all need and what i have had and what i will have...
but not with you. no, not with you. i want to be there in that nameless cool light
with you, that sacred warm home made of our two styles of written word, our
singing out dope trax like song birds. conjured. unitive. pondered. non-punitive.

filling the emptiness in a way no rules of the road can bear witness. this is why they
call us back. you cant do this! girls, you cant do that! we gonna talk about you behind
your back.!! see? and we dont care, just shrug our shoulders and laugh or sigh. tonight
like every night is a good night to die.

bleed out to the shores of the saltgreen sea.
blood sister
bleed out to you. bleed out to me.

With permissions from K Garman

Khali to K, July 8th...
What magic do you manifest with light like long forgetten circles of
trees where i go to fly and find freedom from weight of explanations
and defenses?
What strength allows you tender heart i just glimpsed
shocked rushed even bleeding in not out?

I cant believe you speak my
language. Yeah fuck sex! i want roots
and tangled branches beauty of
blood red roses guarded by thorns that we somehow as is by magic as if mythology transcend the
hurt
shame
suffering because its growing old
these games ghetto hustlers play.
Yeah you said it right - not with you
i want nothing but safety in packs when danger persuades us to darker
places there could be a place to find refuge here between this our
saying what cant roll so easily off tongues. The first and then the
second time you held
i had to blush
you held
my hand?
thinking you would think i was just a fool. Yeah
your way too sweet for me but
i can
I promised
I do
i will
hold THIS

-- end of letters

im blessed ...

fuck im blessed! life hella sweet out west. cross any bridge and find yourself. lose yourself in fog and daily grind yourself. the day drips out easy and pure to where you see it right, feel its right. think good thoughts and amplify hope. stamp out the violent end of words, days of lost souls strung out on dope. always for all not easy for all to cope. in honor of heartfelt heartbreak. of another young couple desperate strugglin', ya, for their sake. to tear away from smells, colors, taste of home. its not easy, when you find yourself on the take.

i wake up and open eyes... slowly...wonder were they ever closed at all? see by the coloring of the windowpanes, oh to know again the pure snow of winter! diverse colors of the fall! penitentiary issue clothes now broken in by the lawful, bleached and laundered so many times, looks awful.

worn to remember. now its december. all charges dropped, taxpayer money squandered. this is america two thousand ten. dollar losing strength against yen. golden goose traded in for mudhen. what will we do now? practice mindful zen.
no,no,no. no negativity here. i swear! i love america i wish i could kiss her! shes got all the stray cats we need. shes got nonamericans sweating into citizenship earned. shes peeling like an onion of what she once thought learned. the usa. clearly hiphop and bright silver on a tray. wheels and clubs so hot! to touch. to feel. shes all the fucking artists and screwup writers like me. write what the fuck you want! bottom line: you're free! or so she got you thinking.

america for what shes worth deserves some accolades! shes still got kids, still got stands of lemonade. shes still parading around town in daisy dukes. symbols more entrenched &amplified by urban. and sometimes more appealing. her debt around the world? no damn ceiling! she likes lofts. shes hard in places, but you can find her sometimes so soft. like the rivers begin to run dry. the factories coughed. makes you wanna cry. like the residue of sun, twice a day, base of sky...

the beats of yesterday got us trippin on reds, manifest in us. in underground we trust. and the wander...and the lust.  america usa? will you stay together? i pray. lets mend her, be mindful of her, turtle island of the natives, turtle waxed and so creative. steel wheels spinning and scratching the dopest trax. to make up for trains gone cold. railway memories covered by new plant life. who would restore the railway fever?  we could make it manifest,  how we carried the fire burning inside...mark her beauty. dont forget her, the land we reside.

the land is native, and to native shall she go. beneath the wave, the surge of honest hard working classes from all of mexico. beneath the ebb, beneath the flow, a peaceful ground they say? such is so.

such is so! such is so. such is america, miss usa. so loved. sometimes hated. our miss beautiful. thus related.

bleed out to you. bleed out to me.

i swam then flew then slowed to the beat of the first beating heart, longer
than the 12 count between lightning flash and thunder struck me, your words,
struck me did they just now...you have the style sort of wrapped around
nothing but pure beauty -- Qt -- and shadows, dont forget them shadows.
i am carin' about U but not no more than i care 2.

which means a lot...

BOO!
wow, you awoke me further into the scene of the sacred circle of our trust
between pinkies, between fences, between ghetto tags, between us. i too have
faith in suffering but not with you. no, not with you. its got to be goldenplatinum
and then sum. its got to be numerologically significant like you know we are crossing
our paths just between a lunar and solar eclispse?!?! this is meaningful in no small
way because i do know you. want to know u to your roots, too.

sexual is insignificant. touch is ember. aura? amber. intimacy? i feel it. i feel you in your
smile in your bartering ways in your dishonesty that honesty conveys. it does no harm
to me, for some reason, only you yourself., and YES believe me when i tell you..

suffering is what we all need and what i have had and what i will have...
but not with you. no, not with you. i want to be there in that nameless cool light
with you, that sacred warm home made of our two styles of written word, our
singing out dope trax like song birds. conjured. unitive. pondered. non-punitive.

filling the emptiness in a way no rules of the road can bear witness. this is why they
call us back. you cant do this! girls, you cant do that! we gonna talk about you behind
your back.!! see? and we dont care, just shrug our shoulders and laugh or sigh. tonight
like every night is a good night to die.

bleed out to the shores of the saltgreen sea.
blood sister
bleed out to you. bleed out to me.

Being there... the immediacy

life is happening all around me...i cannot think of a better way to describe its immediacy. my little life, twenty ten, than to give it to you. us all. immediate. and RAW. which can be so immaculately whole like hard boiled egg
like apple
like feelings
like love
like suffering
the dialectic. the infusion one through other...approximate sublimation.
close to devotion. closer to helplessness. decidedly unitive. salient. piercing even!
this experience...

in a blender
on LIQUIFY...

gotta capture this. the chemistry. deliver it in white delicate wrappings
like birds wings, yet stronger. and more revealing of  true nature

not my words! haha. now you know im ready, youre ready
like the space shuttle liftoff.
everything attuned
aligned
bubbling
synchronized.
 about to
catch fire!

below read a letter i wrote to a sister living in a bottle lately and incommunicado. i suffer her absence in my life. its loud. its empty. today she called twice. left one voicemail. breathless. suffering. unable to wrap her mind around her lips to enunciation. living in bottles. big glass ones probably. little brown transparency of LizTaylors trademark lifespan standby, or so they say. my friend, my sister, she is also my liztaylor in my life. and we love Elizabeth, we cherish her. we can hardly stand you if you do not. that kind of fierce pact. like Bette Davis and just so cracked. stay with me.

stay with me now, come on, focus. you can do this, sweetie. i know its hard. but its compelling, too! i know you feel this too. the insanities. the frothy stirrings of lifes quicksand bottomed, magnolia laced, the lazy hanging live moss of confederate tinged graveyard. maybe wiccan in ritual. or pagan in practice. past lives must connect with this. otherwise i wouldnt say so. the bs factor should be minimal, my dear. every fabrication = bs factor sunk deeper. it fills the space so well, doesnt it, my hypervigilant scrawl? can you sense the desperation? understood via your phone call.

drastic is the field, assessed. off center, off plane, irrhythmia set to complacent. the dying seed is nascent, in your big giant heart, my friend. you are vulnerable.  Only you know what must yield!
for me its like dipping the little toe, into some sketchy life of kindreds... maybe Faulkner, maybe Poe.

intoxicating. commence internally, without sound the plane is shifted.
we get closer, to elevated intimacy status: watermark lily (upgrade from pale ).
early film divas we are again, with style. with grace. we can own any sudden place.
focus now, see us. wrapped in white transparencies...non-denominational...
non-violent...naturally momentous

Clear the channel. Breathe again. you with me? i know its different. dont get confused. we are here. all is well, all is clear if not linear. belly full. dream of cinotaur. Open crown chakra to sky. Open soles of feet to earth. Posture, please! now... run that energy, girl. lady. soul. now send it! the letter. the manifest. the letting be known of humble and devoted presence. two way street communicado!  (a step evolved from roosevelt-circled radio)

disintegrate = incommunicado
emanate simple sugar of compassion
now liftoff
feel the passion
end without end
evolved from on-and-off

 Sweet spirals spiraling!
without end

Dear D, 
so what if your life is at risk?
your medical situation?
it feels to me in my sixth sense that you are medically on the verge
are you really ready to cross over?
i dont want you to!
im selfish i guess.
sometimes you are too, remember?
when you dont want me to!
this i confess 

but this feels critical.
do you even check your email anymore?
do you eat? do you think about your plan? what is it?
your son. your daughter. your people. they need you.
i think so.
i think you think so,
is what i mean, sweetie.

i dont think you should go!
must i really really say so?

if you did decide to go,
the possibilities exists
to be exhausted
not to daydream or fuck around!
(the things you people think! Aries vs Aquarius,
then tagteam Aries to Leo)
i will know your moves

how about
going with some dignity? some love of self?
life as preparation for death,
rebirth,
not some kinda lower life cause or attachment to bottles
no pollution, eh? come on now, sister!
im not your sister because we are petty or weak
we are empowered individually! collectively!

you know of which i speak

i send you my love to survive through this and learn
increase wax awareness
get bigger than
turn emergency
into emergence
see?

i love you. i love we
and will love us to death
if i cannot love us
back to life, goddamn!

all my heart,
K

hate hating...love to stare....or the yawn of some gray morning

Dont think i dont love you, dont think i dont care, i just hate hating you...but i love to stare. Remember how it is in the future? When temporal division takes over, in the dark of light year? the flower in your hair, its petals turned to strands, and all the buts became ands? This was the eclipse of the moon by the sun, and the darkness of the light, the light the air hung! made my skin bump up and touch into aura, the colors may be faded but the wear is so touching, like the little girl who lost her mom, left with emerald handbag shes clutching. the far away blankness of empty egg whites, in some diner in Appalachia, the waitresses in tights.

I can say today the magnificence is just what it ought to be, of life and energetic movement, post some weekend long lethargy. I can say today my eyes are faded, soft-focused to blur out, when meditative states make the visual channel superfluous. the blind, losing sight, enter liquid tunnels and surf through this. Santa Monica no doubt is a mystery meeting of water and earth. dangerous at the junction, lives lost under the wharf.

Let us not talk now of death and life. Let us now live and live thoroughly. Crushing on each other. Like alaska crushes mercury or napa crushes grapes...lets go retro for a sec and reconstruct all our old mixtapes. Playing the music, feeling it so, rising in altitude, san francisco, toronto. The star and the maple leaf, this is what divides us. Why not take the two, mix with the color blue, rewrite history to complete the americas.... star maple the tree from which we derive sustenance. the deciduous iconography spread over unadulterated geography....tap into the syrup, the color of mahogany.

the solid foundation of air, maybe spirit? the liquid cool we all feel, united as one, never stop shining, sun magnifying, borders fading, dying! whats next? embracing dear mexico? serenading Juarez, on our knees crying? begging for life, the more that we need it. all the things we created, all the history repeated. and yet were still dying? oh wait dont you know? theres this guy named Siddartha, was a one man kinda show! no, not Jesus, are you kidding? much better skin tone. you cant have tantric sex, over cellular phone.


wait this irreverence is beyond past the pale! i knew the merger of USA and Canada would fail! the moral code got soaked and ruined! all the corporations? non-profit! how we once spoke too brazenly, we now speak so softly! the maple leaf has rounded the edges of stars! its like losing cuban in front of cigars! the international community? forget it! you know they will laugh at us. hockey ratings will skyrocket. cold rain wind and rust. think of the consequences. fleur de lis will mix with the darkness of american suicidal hardcore punk rock goddesses.

the dawn of the new north american trip? get a grip on your weak necromantic bulimia! what turns you on apparently taps into some subaccurate agenda. like turning revolutions of global spintheory, backward through the years, down to imploding absentia. you cant fill the emptiness with some kind of juicy body of plum, without risking half the fun of the space. emptiness is so open to possibility and evasive of chase! complete lacking of class, color, sex, or race! transparent world of biodiversity. preferable to junkyard of biocommercial decademocracy.

stop a while and empty your head of your thoughts, feelings, sensations. let it all go and feel yourself lighter. now suddenly your clarity connects you to universal, just a turn tighter. no more leaky faucets in your subcortex. the antidote simply achieved by streetscience 101...

be yourself in the world and then be done!

she who walks deserts without water for days, when struck by lightning, pays

i liked to watch my back
hypervigilance
my dance
my hobby


 i could spot
sentient scoundrels
in any building
lobby

i was quiet,
hypersensitive
dubbed
not quite disordered...
moody

they arrived
my moods
in varied shade of green

i welcomed them
true
as the thirsty
welcome water
varied shades of blue...
colder
hotter

water
sky
apple
 eye

open to talk to anybody
anytime
or drop, deafening silence...
on a nickel
on a dime

 i was usually first
to manifest
silent hesitation
hesitating?
when manifest ceased
before starting again

well its not so hard!
regard:
hold your tongue
press down hard!

i decided one day
as I came upon a crowd
to make a choice
to change
and amplify it!
loud!

The choice? is unrelated
kinda
uneventful...

chose not to delve into it
No need!
its sentimental!

okay, okay
it had to do with someone
i liked
-okay, loved-
you know?
the ones we wanted to be with

i followed this dream
far as my constitution could
to a place where dreams
resemble Hollywood

i found myself there
some new discovered space
food and warmth made for comfort
outside the human race

 i could not quite understand?
when i finally understood
mental clarity she arose!
out the gutter
out the ghetto
equipped with street science ph.d
from the hood
for freedom
not for free


just laundering
all lifes drama
in the spinning threads
of my mind

turned me a shade
more mellow
over time

i think it was the apples
turned my pee
such a frightful
yellow

i searched for solace
in a book on cosmos theory
yellow was marked 'second-tier'
somehow more evolved?

or was it gold?
or was it canary?
the theory
made me leery
 
in practice
i would read auras
in time
to be sure

in theory
made me weary

so good night
to one
good night
to all

walk away
down the hall

tonight is written old or new

Tonight is written: eat whole orange. Avoid the tv the friends of yours, ignore the light box with all its darkness.  try not to hold your resentments. any longer. Soulgrabber nature of some situations, morbid as they are, must be understood in cold impersonal terms. There is no other way. To understand them. Try not to rest there too long. Sing a song. Let emotional mind channel into heart and hands. Let mind rest, if mind gets caliente hot. Catch internal preoccupations as they arise. Like butterflies scattering up from the net. watch them jet. Catch and release. Approaching winter...get down there in the basement and locate fleece. Down of geese. The kind your parents loved. When you thought they loved you too. And when they did. Remember them for a sec. Just a sec.

Just a sec or collapse a wreck. Blankets offer sensual warmth and lovely false security. Take it! Grab it to ya! Close your eyes & smile wide. Turn your body from side to side. Dance with yourself, goodness for your health. Thank goodness. Acknowledge evil. what is no good in the world. What exists and does harm. Shadow form. Against the mild winter rains of northern california territories.

Candles will be needed. Candles yes. Incense yes. for purpose of atmosphere regeneration, in any one room home. where one lived with one raccoon. Once upon a time. Once. Wait! Of this you will never know. It cannot be bought, cannot be shared. Intranslatable. Love insatiable. Raccoon and then there was silence. Felt like a great great weight, felt like violence.  Tjen turned to rain. Felt like sleep. And never the same. Became and became... and became.

Break out lottery ticket!This the ticket? Intuition lights up still. Waiting but somehow knowing. the megamillions 5 picks on the random tix. You feel an oncoming fix to your account...Cash cow comes alive and kix. No longer infected, antibiotically corrected.  like you played games for years. Following the stars through your fears.

Went like second nature to the liquor store. Asked for five seven nine seven four in some prearranged or preordained string theory kite store. Numbers you visualized then released to clerk in an unassuming way, like it was your ritual to play. Clerk gave you your stub with matte finish eyes to meet. You take it and tuck it away. Sugar sweet. Two toned orange with numbers printed in a blackish grey. A silk yellow pouch showed up in your mail.  Devastating return without end, without fail. And all that came to you when you came to? when the cash came through, all that came to you?

was treating your friends true. in this day and age. simple in the complications. thoughtfulness conveyed across the thousand thoughtless stations. When you gave doubt away, No one doubted you any more, not you not them, not any other nor. just naturally lined up behind you like the lines in cords. Taoism studies made this progression so clear, sort of going with the river, like an extension of tears.

We need expedient travel over water. I don’t know why. I dont know why my raccoon died?  I did not know why I gathered the people i did all around me, I hardly knew what to say. the falling tree fell not 100 yards away.  began our conversations. could have killed one of us probably. Pine needles given as reparations. bereavement followed the machinations.

material situation (earth) you find yourself in. Sweating on the bart train, morning commute. Have come to enjoy work. or life with work in it.  a fortunate motherfucker so long have u been! Conscious of this and conscious of sin. of sanity. of gin. powerful lucky indeed.  More conscious maybe. More painful, baby!  Eyes open. Red sometimes. Air pollution. Sadness...Up all night? no solution.

Badness. Rubbing eyes a pastime. Now in the past. Keep bringing it back, the mind. body. spirit. Altogether now. Dust it off. Polish it to shine. Stay right in the moment where they say all will be fine. But thats the future, no? where All is fine? finely attuned and anticipated? pour to drink, some old table wine. forget the future, the past. Align!

Right now in the moment. The train station. This is where we receive them, the signals and signs. We may misread them. Then dropped into the past, where conscious life gets trashed. Communication breaks down. Which is insignificant. Just a fact scribbled on the wall of your mind somewhere, and maybe yours. maybe not. Like a French cave drawing, outdated, carbon faded. Fact. Union represented. Permanently belated, never on time. Watch on the hand is purely for design, minute and second hands mated.

Today you are out of bounds, no self no lines no borders to cross! the moment, you start to like her! She holds your only evidence. witness to her makes you free to cleanse your soul and rinse. no cavities! The drip dry of your self esteem, leaves you light like linen fresh.  The harbor where the moment stays?  refuge for expressiveness. the choices you have right now? are all the choices needed. The little choices you make each second? really big! need not be repeated... to underline your life you live, this may be quite imperative!! You operate against advice,  eat exotic rice, so choose to move on when u wish, put thought on ice.

You  help yourself to frozen confections-- paleta guy has some selection. Just watch out for the central raisin.  terrible to taste. eat around it, so none goes to waste. of my horchata (pudding flavor yum!) today plan to get you some. The other plan is to work. But not too hard to stress u out. U want it even to fill your spirit. Then Connect for sure with someone who owns a gun. Like H.S. Thompson, gonzo in the mountains, ballistics just for fun. change. maybe give up an opening or light, in the dark dark day. Sun is up, but anyway. Unconscious shadow lurks in corners. Mirrors may be used to dispel bad aura. Read your Tarot cards for more information. Not your own, find someone silly. or just do it alone. Or with the psychic who wants your money really.

Honey its true! to make a living thats what they do. Give you what you want but not what you need. You give you. Ultimately it was your choice that planted that seed. Honestly we  need honesty, just like everyone else. With you, honest with you, you, and with them, them too. The lies may taste good, but so bad bad for the health.