Mas fotos!

November 19, 2009

I posted fotos from the last few months. on the Flickr site.  This time, many of them actually have descriptions, yep, I understand that those make your interest in them much more likely.  http://www.flickr.com/photos/edenicmigration/

If you can’t easily view them, please bother to tell me so I can try and fix that.  I really do want to share these with you.

Enjoy these images that have caught my eye, and/or ask questions, make comments, do what you do.

A few poems

November 18, 2009

Today I’m in La Paz, Baja California Sur, Mexico.  This place is a relief.  A man in the marketplace divined my identity according to the Mayan calendar.  As a reflection of my date of birth, I am Aketzali, divine water and the divine knife.  This combination yields a person predisposed to writing well who seeks cultured rather than “attractive” partners, and is particularly successful working in fields that involve liquids.  Appearing tranquil on the surface, I am a profound source of inspiration for myself and others, but one that arises suddenly.  My work is maintain balance between this tranquility and the eruptions of inspiration and action.  Apparently, only those who are ready to learn to sail on top of the waters as the flood comes will join me in life, the rest are too intimidated.  Seems about right.

I came across a journal I began last December in preparation for the initial launch from Seattle.  I didn’t use it much as I was traveling then, but now it’s become relevant again.  In the last few pages I found poems I’d been working on and apparently wanted to care with me.  Rereading them almost a year later, they strike me as worth sharing.  Therefore…

 

Letting Go

Such a delicious vantage point:  leave it or carry it?

(ask for the value to show itself)

Marking distance from my own choices, their grip

on this unmade future loosens

I seek advice

from the wind

push and also pull

buffet and also soothe

 

From the trees

bend and occasionally break

sink roots always, but slowly

 

From this city where I was born

Remember me!  I am built of beauty and will

and money.

 

From all the sand and stones and soil I have yet to savor

Caution is a tool, as is curiosity.

Allow the water to wear pits, to dig caves, to reshape you.

 

Airborne toward Austin, October 2008

These wings are not of birds

but dogfish suckling or biting the belly

of this airplane from either side.

In this darkness of Sunday

the final one of this month,

Austin is a veritable greenbelt

for all I know

Occasionally, the shadows show their edges

exposed in gassy orange

revealing leaves and branches

soon to be made naked by

the desirous hand of autumn.

 

I tattooed your god on my bicep

I tattooed your god on my bicep

2 things I didn’t do:

1.  pierce you, 2 blocks away, with my two-fingered whistle

2. Press the button twice, unconvinced, after no water spat out from the sidewalk fountain spout into the bowl, already brimming with mosquitoes, drowned in stagnant tobacco water

Instead, I soaked an old sock with vinegarwater and dissolved the greasy smear your cheek left on my window.