Zephyr

Which way does the West Wind blow?
Are you named for where you come from
or known for where you go?

Do you sometimes gets stuck?
It's okay. I know.
What unsticks you? How does that go?

Can we scale it?
The scales sail it
(suddenly reptilian cloths
sail ships up rivers
backdropped by that f# minor
scaling piano keys
the flow that plants the seeds
down the mountain)

Which way does the East wind blow?
Do you pin yourself down
or go with the flow?

Do you sometimes gets stuck?
It's okay. I know.
Sometimes it helps to bring out the row

The oars, the push
the chores, the rush,
the floors, the brush
the chords, the gush
of my heart
over scales
arms wrapped tight around my torso
against the wind scaling

The winds of beginnings--
which way do they blow?

It's okay. I know.

Being a Woman in the World, Part 2

I wonder if these people mean to be inflammatory.  I don't think so. Basically, a news show host suggested that women should serve their men more, because it's just "kindness."  Yes, it is kind and right to take care of each other in a way that comes from the heart out of love.  We don't need gender roles and stereotypes as guidelines to be kind. We can all be kind and look out for each other. It doesn't have to do with gender.

I'm probably preaching to the choir, but I'll just point out that this perspective supports heteronormativity in a pretty annoying way. It's just insensitive to marginalize people like that.  I mean, if we played out this advice, we might ask, what about women attracted to women? Should they make men a sandwich?  Should gay men want women to bring them a beer? No, because being so prescriptive is illogical, and again, this doesn't have to do with gender.  

As adults, we are smart enough to listen to our loved ones and come to understand how to be supportive, helpful, and kind in our own unique situations.  I don't need the Suggestions of Patriarchy. We can figure this out.

These ideas that come down to "How to treat a man" could be better written in the 21st century as "how to be a thoughtful person."  The 21st century version might suggest that everyone make sandwiches for each other!

I'm thinking about how a waiter, a man my age, recently called me "honey" and "dear."  Would he treat a man the same way? No, he doesn't call the men "honey."  I'll only let you off the hook for calling me honey if 1) you are my boyfriend 2) you are my parent/aunt/grandparent, or 3) you look older than 60, in which case, I may not like it, but I forgive you (I assume it's a generational thing).

Being treated differently is not an honor.  Having a different set of expectations in place for me because I'm a woman--being judged differently--it doesn't feel fun and cute.  For further exploration, another day: let's dive into why both of my most riled up gender/feminism posts are related to food.

Okay--how about something a little peppier now to start the day?

calculator, calendar, calendula

Reminders missed... organize by tagging lists?

In California, calendula 

(

 )

calculates its time in the sun

calendars the day it will be done

planting seeds

in nonsensicalifornia

On another note, listen to this beautiful amazing child--

yellow basket

A tisket a tasket

I dropped my yellow basket

Tell me when you’ll drop the grayness of clouds

Tell me when you’ll make the rain fall down

Tell me when

the winds will spin up

rainbows and sunshine

through inconsistent rain--

I'll forget the quarries

won’t think about the depth

of rock--many rock

caverns

chasms

cliffs

A tisket, a tasket

I love my yellow basket

I dropped it--

I dropped it--

Don’t know what I’ll do.

(shout out to Ella Fitzgerald and nineteenth century nursery rhymes, with love and respect)

 

Advice to Myself

Work, rest, and rise. Smile and breathe. Eyes
must close sometimes while watching skies.
Reopen, laugh, join everything,
close to rest--let dreaming ring.
The eyes would like a good disguise.

No extremes endure or suffice.
The spirit of loneliness lies.
Love your acts, perform well, and sing.
Work, rest, and rise.

When intensities pull out your cries,
make something. Make apricot pies.
Create some good, create a spring,
know the texture of apron strings,
use and love your changing thighs.
Work, rest, and rise.

thoughts of volume

Thoughts cross the sky
envelop
the microscopic developing
day creating
sun protecting
area of energy

entreating wind
inflating clarity

can they become stellar winds
when they travel intergalactically?
to see where sunshine begins?

only thoughts exist in nothing
(stars sparkle in between)
the universe is empty
there's the cosmos and there's me

and nonsensicalifornia
obviously

until the water runs clear

running
caffeinated deer
obsessive compulsive gear
an abrupt

lend me your ear and I'll clear it up

smooth talk
a shoulder bump

scroll down

wake up

sky sky sky                                       sky            sky


sky       cloud                                                          sky


cloud cloud cloud                                                      moon
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clouds
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                  sun
sign
            tree
     building                                                   tree         tree
            building                                                   tree
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