CocoRosie "Lost Girls" (official video)

Jingle jangle, the cosmos are on fire...

The Morning Comes Again

The night won last forever, I tell you,

Because we pull through my friend, we pull through, 

And just as the earth is draped in darkness,  

Time presses forward and removes the 

Midnight cloak from the belly of our sadness.

The sun will rise and will

Reveal the purest of mornings,

Bathed in a wash of 

Rich orange hues 

And lush golden beams.

We, too, will rise. 

I tell you, we will. 

Oddity

When the sky’s light switches off,

When the landlord pulls the plug and cuts us off,

Let me be your moon.

Hold me in the palm of your hand,

Close to your heart,

Turn the switch,

Illuminate,

Irradiate,

Fill your body full,

Until we breathe life once more.

Rich is the Sea

There's a softness to your lips,

Like buttermilk drip,

Like satin hips.

Your coffee stained raindrops

Cascade into the sea,

Rich roast, 

You are a rich roast.

These rippled waters,

These boundless waters, 

Sing buoyant pulses

Into my ever sinking heart.

Rise, rise, rise.

Freedom

I ache,

For those that cannot live freely,

Because what is freedom to me if freedom to you

Is defined as being a gravity so heavy your heart is stopped?

As being homeless to a Mother Earth that once birthed a garden of wild flowers,

A garden of vigor

A garden of warmth?

As being less than,

Restrained,

And chained?  

I ache for the world we’ve been conditioned to live in,

Because what was once pure and pulsing with vitality,

Now cries permeated pigments of sin, tainted to its core,

Plagued by sickness of the mind,

Of the heart.

I ache for those bodies that must flesh their skin to a neutral

That does not speak to their Ancestry.

I ache for a people of the Earth that stands divided,

Even though our threaded souls intertwine and twine into a Universe of one.

I ache deeply.

I ache densely.

I ache dirty.

I ache.

But I also love.

And I love richly.

And I love wholly.

And I love mostly.

And I wait,

With rattled thoughts,

And shaky fingers,

And brittle nails,

For all of us to love.
For all of us to be loved.
Equally.

And then I ache some more.

Pages

We're two stories,
You and I.
Two very different, 
Very similar,
Stories.
Some chapters are longer,
Pages a bit more worn, 
But goddamn do I want to keep reading. 

Drip

Daydreaming about people;
Lovers to come,
Lovers to pass.
Simple stories of mundane things,
Of Monday things.

It's just another day.

We

Gravity sets in

Locks in

Pulls you in

Down
Down 
Down

Oh, Sweet girl. 
There's nothing to fear.
I'll carry that weight,
If only you'll let me.

Release

Breathe

Set yourself free

You're strong as an I,
But we,
Oh we,
Together, 
We are the Earth
The soil 
The roots. 
The foundation.

.We.

Woman Earth 

From The Crop We Rise

We are the recycled degenerates,

The freedom seekers

Of a worn out earth.

Invigorated with ambition for a

Future sparked with pigments of saturation,

Of deep deep colors that stand in solidarity,

Of a crystallized people

That glisten with truth;

A warmer people,

Filled to the brim with sunlight and fire.

We have been here before,

We are not the only ones who have once filled our gaping cores with inhalations of life,

Of beauty,

Of awe.

We carry the torch,

We seek greater truths through storied art,

With curious eyes and tender hearts.

Rebels with a cause.

Rebels, with a cause.

Creatures of a Shared Universe

You move like silk laced in the petals of your own solitude;

Delicate flower, colored with beauty, wilted to imperfection.

Hush child of the Earth. The dirt underneath your brittle nails, the grooves that dance upon the palms of your hand, the stains that paint your wounded heart, are stories to be cherished, stories to be shared.

Link by link, offer me your chains, and I will offer you my ears.

The ink that bleeds throughout the ocean of your veins scribes a history worthy of more than just curiosity’s humble intent.

To not be ok is ok.

The sky can be as black as tar, your apathy as hollow as caves, but there’s a universe out There that keeps expanding and contracting.

Explosive as a bang, quiet as a whimper.

It inhales and exhales with you, deep as the breaths rooted in your gut.

You are not alone, but secluded in peace with the great company of the stars, the soft whispers of the wind, and the other paired eyes that also glance upon the night.
I am here with you.

Guera, or: White Girl

I lay outside with the hopes that my pale skin will be colored in rich to fit my ancestry,

That the golden rays will ignite the match that rests in the boroughs of my belly and fill me full with text from a History that I may call mine too.

Paint me smooth, with broad brush strokes layered on with intricate details.

Paint me with a palette that’s dripping with a

Deep

Deep

Soil of abundance.

I lay outside for the afternoon,

For the summer,

Until El Sol and La Luna

Greet one another in a moment’s soft shallow breath,

Until my skin color fades across the spectrum with a subtly that’s quiet enough to startle you.

Until my Mexican me is no longer noticed at first glance.

Until I am guera

And I have to prove that despite not looking and not speaking

that I am still a part,

Some part,

Any part of the greater whole.

That I want,

No,

Need

To be a part,

Some part,

Any part of the greater whole

The whole that’s pieced together in a mosaic that

Sings,

Sings

When held up to the light

A kaleidoscope

Of me’s,

And you’s,

And we’s,

A kaleidoscope

Of us.

Mija,

Lay outside for the warmth that hugs your heart

For the creased line across the sun that starts just near the West

And dips low only to be welcomed by the peak at the East.

Lay outside to dance with Mother Earth barefoot

And free.

Lay outside not because you aren’t enough,

Lay outside because you’re more than enough

More than guera.

Lonely Lonely

Tender hearts, melted memories of what we had

Rich scarlet red, drape me in your rich scarlet red

Take me home, take me far away to a place beyond these grazing lands

We’re a peculiar creature, you and I.

What lies at our core?

What roots grow beneath our feet and constrict our bones so delicately? So dangerously?

Hold me close, hold me until we’re just one.

Because this vacant room inside my body consumes my time. and time is money that I can’t seem to hold on to.

And money can sometimes buy happiness despite popular belief.

Or at least fill the void long enough to project an idealized sufficiency.

Lonely lonely, you and I.

Take me home, take me far away to a place beyond these grazing lands

Until we finally land