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Showing posts from June, 2019

There's a rumor, this time ...

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Light comes slowly in the woods. Time wears no wristwatches here. There's a rumor this time is the time. No more tampering with clocks from now on.  Will light come slowly out there, beyond the edge of Alder's shadow?  ~ In town today we saw our friend who lives rough, holds a sign as if to help others with a language they would rather not understand. HOMELESS, Need Help Pete stopped the car when he saw the shorter man in the rear view mirror. "How you doing? How was the winter? We been wondering 'bout you?" Light comes slowly in the woods. Time wears no wristwatches here. There's a rumor this time is the time. No more tampering with clocks from now on. Will light come slowly out there, beyond the edge where rooted, footed, settled, owned, rented properlies squeeze all else tightly. NO ROOM, No Help ~ A page from Mrs Noah's Pockets  In bed today we lay together in the dark where light comes slowly in t

5 Notes of the Crow UPDATED

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  We have been invited to a place of respite on the southern knuckle of this Salish Island, Whidbey. Tucked into the hips of Abuela Maple, we rewild our old self. Our hostess's vardo Daddy's big, old brass bell dangles from a slender limb of Abuela's crusted skin. We are aware of the multiple realities she endures: a transformer pulses electricity; the many cluster chucks of cellular conventions track ... everything, air traffic litters; Deer Family own the space, Green is as many as Quantum, real magic wakes us in dreams, walks us to the porch and gives us new eyes.  Trees lean. Water-soaked Alder fell where I would have parked Scout, but, magic told me not to. 5 Notes of the Crow Ⓒ Mokihana Calizar, 2019 Our wyrd voice trembles in skin dense with decisions, cautious and toothless from the sweet draw of convenience. My memory of protocol dependent upon the quick access and blue light of radiant waves clouds dazzling with stored data

Strands of Time

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 "Almost anything you do will be insignificant, but you must do it ... We do these things not to change the world, but so that the world will not change us." - Gandhi The library was quiet for a Friday at noon. Rain had come to Whidbey Island, dampening the pollens and dust that fill the air. Men and equipment were busy with their Man Work at the campground. We left them to do what they do to potholes; and are left with the residue of  asphalt mixed into the sandy fill, used for repairs, to breathe. "Insult to injury," a friend commiserated after hearing the story. We nodded over the fancy dancer coffees in our to-go cups. We are campers these days and nights. We are here today, and in another somewhere tomorrow, or next week. If it were possible I might like to be one of the witches and non-witches who move between 'Strands of time' in the world of Neal Stephenson and Nicole Galland's seven-hundred and fifty-two pages of The Rise and Fall of  

The Accordion

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"Just because you've made an important decision about your future doesn't mean that everything's going to be easy, that there won't be obstacles or problems. But that's what friends and family do, they help overcome obstacles and solve problems. Everyone will try to think of things. It's all right to put yourself first for once. It really is. And you're not running away. You're moving toward something." - Girl on the Leeside The Accordion © Mokihana Calizar 2019 We imagine A future Different  Or maybe The smells Change And my mind Follows  Sounds instead. We tamper and tinker With our Present Long  For the Innocence Lose Track of the Past. We reassemble Pieces of useful Yesterdays, Pull self-tapping Screws  From old Buckets Create Temporary Walls Foldable Like the accordion.   Hover over the images for a few more words about what you see. If this post s