Tata's World

I Know, I Know

I haven't written here in months. But that doesn't mean I haven't been writing, it's just not here. Creatively speaking, I feel somewhat impaired. My heart is broken, and I guess along with it, my ability to create something from it. It is odd for me, usually a break up is good for about 10-15 poems, but not a word on the matter, this time. There's something different about this one, something I can't put my finger on, and apparently something I haven't the imagination to articulate. Sigh. 

What I Wrote To Senator Obama Today

I feel a sense of deja vu when it comes to the hysteria around the Wall Street mess that is permeating throughout the country right now. It really does feel like we are all just gold fish, I mean seriously, does no one remember the deliberate atmosphere of panic and fear that the bush administration contrived so we would give them license to invade Iraq? Why does it seem like no one is balking at the rush? Ugh. Well, I wrote to Senators Feinstein, and Boxer, as well as to Rep. Barbara Lee, and Senator Obama. Here's what I wrote (minus the same-sex marriage lecture for all but Obama):

Hello Senator,

I did not vote for you in the primary, and I may not vote for you in the general election, that is not to say I would vote for McCain, it is to say that I may not vote for a president at all. There are a few reasons for this, but suffice it to say, that I do not vote out of fear, and so I will not vote for you simply to keep a republican out of office. The biggest barrier to my being behind you is your stance on same-sex marriage. It is incredible to me that a black person in this country would get behind a separate but equal kind of thinking, and that is exactly what your position on "allowing" same-sex unions, but not marriage, IS. It calls into question your intelligence, your integrity, and your ability to LEAD, rather than follow along, playing the political game. If in your heart you support the rights of same-sex couples to marry, but won't support them on record or in rhetoric because of political reasons, then you are no different from many of the democrats who have come before you, and that is NOT change at all. If you truly do believe that marriage should be denied to same-sex couples, then you should not be allowed to lead our country, as this shows very poor judgement indeed, and the POTUS is supposed to represent the interests of ALL Americans, not just the ones whose beliefs she/he agrees with. In any case, the reason I am writing today is because I am concerned about the so-called financial emergency we are being asked to deal with. A while back there was a similar panic when Bush wanted to get the country behind his intention of invading Iraq, but I urge you to see through this tactic, and to slow down this whole process of bailing out Wall Street, so that decisions are made from a place of intelligence, and wisdom, and NOT from fear, or panic. I'm not an economist, but I do believe that such important decisions should not be made in haste, or in panic mode. I am asking you not to support the bail out until there have been more studies and talks about the situation, and to be a cooler prevailing head in this mess. I don't know exactly what would be best for the country, but I think very much that those who have been major contributers to this situation, should under no uncertain circumstances, be allowed to profit from it. Please be a voice of reason, and do your best to calm the senate as well as the political atmosphere, so decisions can be made in good faith. Also, if you'd like to re-consider your stance on same-sex marriage, I'd be more than willing to re-consider my stance on not voting for you. Respectfully, Tallon Nunez Oakland, Ca

Crush, Etc.

Breathing deeply

trying to take you in

the smell of you

makes me fall

your body when we slept

wrapped around me

gave me pleasure and comfort

that is bone-deep

the weight of your

thick heavy thighs

was like an anchor to me

grounding me

to the earth, to my life

I know you saw us

as a fleeting moment

and I can't say

that your definition

offends me

but long after

our connection broke

seeing you again

I find myself still aching

to be close to you

laughing with my lips

against your throat,

mocking time.

Devotion

She doesn't know

the efficacy of her words

how they drift into my brain

burning themselves

into the dynamic

but delicate tissue

she doesn't seem aware

that the soft ethereal tendrils

of her voice

permeate my skin

burrowing so far as my DNA

changing me for all time

me inside her, her inside me

our sweat, our tears, our moans

grinding, pushing, pulling

trying to gain entrance into the other

our two bodies together

a conduit for connection,

an intimacy deeper

than words alone can achieve

our sex is a prayer,

a conversation with god

we are a divine alignment,

an ancient celestial promise

to always return home

to always know and love oneself

Her desire, her passion

they are like instructions

which I can not deny

In turn

she submits, without hesitation

to the rule of my want, my hunger

so that we both

joyfully obey

the commands of love,

as devotedly

as the faithful

to god's will.

The Great Squirrel Highway

It's an adjustment living with a roommate after living on my own for so long, but I really like Brett, and you can't beat the neighborhood. Trees, and well-kept lawns instead of garbage and discarded run-down furniture. Beautiful homes, instead of dilapidated structures needing to be condemned, and the sounds of numerous birds (my favorite being the melancholy songs of the morning doves), music, and children's laughter, instead of sirens, gunshots, and one crack-head yelling at another, to "just leave those fuckin' nasty-ass underwears there!" (which turned out to be the entry to my building). I've also discovered that my new home is right smack in the middle of a squirrel highway. Every morning, I hear the sounds of a dozen or so little squirrel feet running along. At first I thought it might be Oscar, Brett's cat, getting frisky in the AM, but he is rather rotund, and elderly, so I had a hard time being convinced of that. When talking to my friend Michelle, she thought maybe the noises were coming from the birds, but they are distinctly NOT hopping sounds, it actually sounds like a very small game of basketball is happening, 'cos there is a lot of running back and forth, rather than in just one direction. Who knows maybe they ARE having a spirited game of b-ball, a kind of all-squirrel conference. They're pretty brazen little critters too. While doing laundry, I was going back towards the house when I saw a squirrel, carrying a doggie kong (a large one that had belonged to England, but which I gave to Bailey, Brett's neurotic black lab), that was about a size and a half larger than it. Apparently this particular squirrel is called Arthur and he is the leader of the local squirrel gang. He glanced at me, unafraid, and continued to haul his prize towards a tree. After about 30-45 seconds of a very fierce effort, he turned to me, looked at the kong, then back at me, as if to say, "Hey, you got the opposable thumbs, how 'bout a little help here!" The look on his face made me laugh for a good 2 minutes, obviously he was the leader for good reason. The squirrel gang, is the bane of Bailey's existence. She keeps a determined eye out for them, day in, and day out, reporting to us regularly, about their nefarious deeds. I get the feeling that she is more interested in the fact that THEY have devised a way of getting food for themselves, while poor Bailey has to wait for one of us to serve her meals, and she only gets two a day, not the dozen or so, that she would prefer. Brett texted me from the road, one afternoon, as she often does, inquiring about the well-being of her beloved Bailey, I answered that she seemed to be scheming a way to take Arthur hostage, the ransom being a significant percentage of whatever foodstuffs the gang were able to secure. Brett, agreed that this was probably the case. If Bailey ever succeeds, we will have very little leverage with her, when it comes to her training, so I'm keeping my eye on her progress, thus far it is still in the planning stage. Yeah, things are a little weirder in this neighborhood, but a lot more fun.

Fly

You say it feels like

walking a tightrope

precarious footing

so high above the ground

eyes forward

trying not to look down

you are scared and thrilled

wondering if

falling would be so bad

but why would you do it

if you didn't want to?

No one ever had to walk

a tightrope

and no one ever does it

to get to the other side

since there are

any number of easier ways

It is a deliberate decision,

an intention to be challenged

Like god splitting apart

into infinite bits of energy

you are seeking to know yourself,

testing your limits,

strengthening,

and expanding your heart

Staying put

feet firmly on the ground,

keeping you "safe"

from knowing who you really are,

what you're capable of

that is the real risk

Falling is not the worst thing

that can happen

it is an opportunity

to find out

that you can fly.

3/23/2008: 4PM

Nevermind the butterflies

I got pterodactyls

flapping around in my belly

my blood runs quick

but time trickles by

like a lazy, country spring

I am marinating

in my desire

soaking up the hot flowing juices

my veins swelling

with the want of you

making my touch incindiary

and dangerous

ready to litter your flesh

with my fingerprints

and it is only a matter of when

when I feel your blue eyes

aimed in my direction

when your dark curls

softly brush my chest

when your mouth

is smiling and open

when my name on your lips

is a song

you sing again and again

then, will the glorious riot begin

and the mounting ache

let loose

like thick molten lava

carving out the earth

changing the landscape,

and the architecture

of anything in it's path

including our two

tender hearts

then, will the world

make sense again.

You Again

You are as easy

on the eyes as ever

but just as hard on the spirit

it is an unpleasant mystery

what I could have done

to warrant such a cool

and remote attitude

I have an abundance

of good feelings for you

I told you I would

your name is written

on a wall, in a chamber

of my heart

I know, there is no way

to remove it

things are like that for me now

where once, my wishes

were purposely muted, diluted,

and locked like the dead

in the cold stone

of a mausoleum

they are now

like ocean currents

powerful, flowing

and constant

so you are welcome

to my embraces, good will,

and friendship

if ever, you should want them

they are here, and they are yours.

Things That Should And Shouldn't Be Said

It should be said, that I miss England, so much more than I could've imagined. The intensity of the loss of her, doesn't seem to be decreasing. It seems to be taking on a more specific and poignant feeling, like it is setting up house in some strange corner of my heart. When she and I would go walking, people unable to resist her beauty, her bigness, and her luminous sweetness, would eagerly approach, with curiosity, compliments, and stories of their own great danes, as children, etc. They talked to me about lots of things, England was the catalyst. She was also what I call a babe-magnet, the pretty girls, who otherwise, might be shy, would come up to me and ask me about England, and then of course, about myself, was I single, did, I live in the city, etc. But now? Now, I'm just like any other shmoe walking down the street, virtually invisible. No one talks to me anymore, and the pretty girls, now only throw me quick sideways glances. I also miss going to the doggie parks, they're good for a lot of social interaction with people as well as other dogs. I don't feel like I can go to them without a dog, it's kinda like going to a toddler park without any kids, makes people understandably nervous. I've been borrowing Brett's dog, who is in her own way, a sweet dog, but she's a black lab, fairly run-of-the-mill, so not as good mojo. She's also not as well-trained, or even interested in me, which just makes me miss England all the more. I've no plans for some time to get another dog, if ever, but I think I might start a free service to walk the Great Danes in the Oakland, and Berkeley areas. England would love that.

Something that should NOT be said, especially by a medical professional working at a women's health clinic in Berkeley, "well our funding is for birth-control related issues, and since you've been sterilized..." I couldn't believe she said it, I wondered briefly, if I had been teleported back in time, say to the 40's, or something, and then I told her that I couldn't believe she just used the word sterilized. I said that in fact, I hadn't been sterilized, I had actually been treated for stage three ovarian cancer, which also included a total hysterectomy. She didn't apologize, well she said the words, "I'm sorry", but there wasn't any recognition of the insensitivity of her words, much less any conviction in them. When I got off the phone, I sobbed uncontrollably. The harshness of the word sterilized, the permanence it speaks about, it seemed to cut into me, like a blade made of laser light, deep and to the bone. I've never been interested in giving birth, but it still chafes quite a bit to know that I no longer have the choice. Also, I'm super emotional, since I haven't had any hormones in days, which is why I called the clinic in the first place.

Theory Of Us

Stories, like molecules

have many, many ways

in which they come together

water, earth, air

fiction, fact, gospel

but so few juxtaposition

in such a way

as to form a bond,

a story good enough

to be worth the telling

Most times

when lovers meet

they reach out

desperately grasping for connection

but touch is trickier than that

it is elusive, it is an illusion

it is electrons repelling

one another, thrashing against the other

so what is really felt

is energy pushing away

it may sound sad,

but they might be the lucky ones

those who mistake a push for a pull

When you put your hands on me

one tenderly caressing

the back of my neck

the other placed gently on my chest

just over my heart

my skin became your canvas

and everywhere your fingers brushed

they blazed brilliant, fiery trails

I felt as if my entire

collection of atoms

disassembled, and reconfigured

creating a different me

marking, like the birth

of a brand-new universe

the beginning...of us

two curious, and determined explorers

you with an artists vision

me with a poets heart

together, the energy, the heat generated

can only be measured in Kelvins

and only the sun

our nearest reflection

can tell us

who we really are

it makes sense on every conceivable level

save one, this time now

For all the passion in the world

I would not come between you

and what you believe matters

most to you

I would not bring down

in any way

what you've worked so hard

to build

even if it turns out

not to be what you thought

even if you turn out

not to be who you thought

but when exposed to heat

as radiant and consuming

as who we are together,

what matters most, or at all

will do what matter does,

it will change

Like with any unstable compound

we can't predict or control

the outcome

we can only observe and construct

our theories

So let's not talk of soul-mates

as though we each get only one

let's not talk

as though you are the wild blue ocean

and I the untamed red desert

this may be

but there is more to it than the

centuries of history behind our eyes

there is the ever-looming event horizon

upon whose precipice, we now stand

there is the story which you paint,

there is the story which I write

both are utterly true,

both are wholly divine,

and entirely sacred,

and both will likely,

break our hearts.