Butterfly Dancing

Butterfly Dancing
By Carlos Rodriguez

Don’t fight the morning little butterfly of my heart

This is what you were made for- light spluttering given and received in between the calm tide of sail boats coming back home on spring evenings that I can’t really remember

Rigotta of my heart come into the space where you alone can be nourished by mother

For the good of us all- nourish yourself with timeless simplicity that goes beyond the complex webby things of today

Nourish yourself in desert flowers yet undiscovered yet unseen in the light of the wildflowers

Nourish yourself in their yellow and other colors – we await your nourishment and its fiat for our days of muddy webiness. 

H Ode

H Ode 

By Carlos M. Rodriguez 

An H stirs my heart to waking up from slumbers of letters that speak to me of comfort

I was not meant for comfort. I was meant for flight.

My children will learn how to fly before they learn how to crawl.

Mozart’s blind dreams will drape their umbilical struggles in poetic rain of southern stars- I ode to silence and H’s hidden power- its truth beyond the noise. 

Easter Rising

Suffering is there. Time is an even more savage dog.

Guilt, just as chismosa of an animal: always nagging, judging, cooking shizz-nit up.

Masculine control can get scary: that of dogs and specially that of oranged men.

The trash is picked up as the riggota come in from their competitive sailing.

Friends, join me- stand with me after the long night of despair and shout to the ever-present moon: Yes, we will rise! Our chains are not chains anymore they are the musical instruments that will take off the shackles that hurt us and our beloved.

Orange hair and orange gaseousness will no longer touch this White House or the one on Penn Avenue. Hamilton and his many ghosts have something to say about it- “Over my dead body. Over my immortal soul!”

Resurrection resisting: momento a momento, breath 1 and then breath 2, 3 breath, and then push again and then breathe again, evolving this and every other nation’s sacred paper- Lady liberty will give birth again.

La Resistencia del Sur ha llegado a romper las murallas del Norte. The White House is ours! #resist

Earth Dreams of Easter

Earth Dreams of Easter
by Carlos M. Rodriguez   

Caterpillar dreams of lazy flights and wings 

We are not yet butterflies. 

A grandfather's promise 

Mine and yours 

Saline pools of heaven 

Lady bug dancing 

Holding up the sky. 

Reach with me now:

I will lay low over the still water 

as it drowns in me all that is not life. 

Join with me now:

Baptism de nuevo...

Easter de nuevo...

Sun-rise (sun-ticklings) de nuevo...

Resisting Suns 

Easter Truths

New songs and new singing-

Walls crumbling-chains into instruments- weapons into plows- south, north, east,west. 

Triumphantly tricking democracy's traitors- 

even the heavens and their angels lend their lady bug and butterfly help. 

Resisting Empire

Resisting Empire

March 3^rd, 2017

By Carlos M. Rodriguez Lara

What are we doing to ourselves?

The darkness is our home.

The bridge between our universe and the sun- the darkness the emptiness the root the echoes- languages ever old and always young.

We are the people of the sun.

Let us pay attention:

Repair the bridges, Restore the streets, Renew the children

Our tribalism is an island that will self-explode- Let us lean into our evolution- there is time.

Let us learn to share the feeling of grasping the colored hand of grandmothers and grandfathers.

Ancient vessels that speak to us beyond our cave- leading the way if we only sit still.

Let us sit still.

Let us learn to welcome the stranger, to talk about race, to deconstruct around gender

Privileges are blessings to fall at the feet of another and listen deeply into the callouses of journeys that might have something to teach us.  

Let us sit still.

Let us learn to stand at the picket line, to march against empire, to save this democracy.

Where does it hurt? I hurt too.

My healing can only happen in languages other than my own.

Let us sit still.

Political revolution will begin in our hearts: our memories our imaginations our dreams about one another. 

I stand upon

I stand upon

by Carlos Rodriguez 

I stand upon the beautiful wise shoulders of the past 

but do not let it control me 

I relish in the arms of the present 

but do not let it consume me 

I belong to the future 

but I do not let anxiety over it slow me down 

I am who I am and I belong to the Alpha and the Omega 

to the Beggining and the End. 

I choose to live life on my knees

I choose to live life on my knees

By Carlos Rodriguez 
From the "Poetry and Prayers to unite America" Collection. 
De la coleccion "Poemas y Oraciones para unir America".

I choose to live life on my knees, 

Kneeling as a sign

of reverence 

to the sacredness of it All, 

the sacredness of your story and mine, of your wounds and mine, of your joys and mine 

I choose to live life on my knees, 

Kneeling as a sign of reverence 

to the sacredness of it All, 

Kneelin, Opening, 

The heart as wide as the soul will stretch because from the bottom grace can be received not from the top

because from the bottom tears can wash over us all

But tears do not fall upward...there is such a thing as gravity 

"Blessed are those that cry..." He said 

I choose to live life on my knees, 

Kneeling as a sign of obedience 

to the deep secret of sacred within 

Knighted by the longing deep within All that we will work towards a world where we stop throwing miracles away 

I choose to live life on my knees, 

healing your broken feet- the only way I know 

with calloused hands 

Kissing the wounds of your journey, whatever "camino" you have walked 

Standing in awe of the God that encouraged you through so many massacred streets 

Psalm 23:4 

I choose to live life on my knees, 

Not because I cannot stand 

but because I cannot stand alone 

without holding on to your hands 

In this the great circle we are meant to stand together 

and yet so many are pushed down on their knees 

So I have decided that I will live life on my knees 

grasping for hands at either side of the circles of those pushed down on their knees 

Standing slowly. Overwhelmed. As we lift each other up. 

Until no one is left down on their knees.