'mo(o)ns(u)oon' - letters, I series, July

Khali to K:  July 5th... 
When i pray i know cold its been like this long before the crack and
degradation ... and yeah my bed ... i prayed for
not this easy way out of saying im blessed to wake up purified... but
i prefer the hard road-- it has the best view.      
i dont want to drop it right now. so bear with me, it takes a
while. Hopefully i wont lose it this time. In a minute...

No response...

Khali to K July 6th...

With Permissions from K Garman, photographer

...so mourning came easy but missing the words she spoke and wrote was

the hard part. People have called me morose and dark but death does
not disturb me. Loneliness does. But being surrounded by people is not
the fix. I need the words and the speaking and the naming of
unnameables that only she and then me could do.now finding kindred and
now finding words... in and of you... does touch me more than i might
dare to say if i wasnt so embarrassingly bold. But i cant not say so
when lifetimes pass without even one soul that understands another let
alone more so call me needy -- but dont really. Not ever because i am
never needy but fiercely loyal, once i promise to be so. And the only
promise i know i know i can make is just like i hold sacred the
fluttering of wings i hear against my window every time i awaken out
of troubled dreams i do today and always will hold sacred what you
have and will i hope offer me whether words or laughter and even
silences. Maybe things can always  become small to those who choose to...


Things made small by those who choose the easy way but life is made of
these moments. Inspired and grateful to receive what maybe you find
small i just wish thanks meant anything.
Maybe you drifting onto my
path or mine onto yours as happy coincidence? Whatever the case i do
need you to know that whatever this is im not naming it or wanting to
know more than time blesses only hoping time does bless and not
deceive me by some tragedy i am always afraid will follow me.
Well
what i mean to say is EVERYTHING is fluid  for me. I cant fit these
right angles and carry expectations from the back of cereal boxes.....

 no immediate response...

Khali to K, July 8th...
...what you choose to share, to bless? me with is more than i would
ask for but what i will receive because from this moment on i invite
you inside the circle....
its sacred and i know you know what i mean.
Friendship is the most gracious gift i hope for from you tonight. And
dont forget thats well ive said alot and i did say i hope i never
overwhelm you with who and how i am so with that... I let you chill
and dispel any bad stuff from today. I hope you get this
...me...
Much
love.

K to Khali, July 8th...
(in response to all)

i swam then flew then slowed to the beat of the first beating heart, longer
than the 12 count between lightning flash and thunder struck me, your words!
struck me did they just now...you have the style sort of wrapped around
nothing but pure beauty -- Qt -- and shadows, dont forget them shadows.
i am carin' about U but not no more than i care 2.

which means a lot.
Boo!
wow, you awoke me further into the scene of the sacred circle of our trust
between pinkies,
between fences,
between ghetto tags,
between us. i too have
faith in suffering but not with you. no, not with you. its got to be goldenplatinum
and then sum. its got to be numerologically significant like you know we are crossing
our paths just between a lunar and solar eclispse?!?! this is meaningful in no small
way because i do know you. want to know u to your roots, too.

sexual is insignificant. touch is ember. aura? amber. intimacy? i feel it. i feel you in your
smile in your bartering ways in your dishonesty that honesty conveys. it does no harm
to me, for some reason, only you yourself., and YES believe me when i tell you..

suffering is what we all need and what i have had and what i will have...
but not with you. no, not with you. i want to be there in that nameless cool light
with you, that sacred warm home made of our two styles of written word, our
singing out dope trax like song birds. conjured. unitive. pondered. non-punitive.

filling the emptiness in a way no rules of the road can bear witness. this is why they
call us back. you cant do this! girls, you cant do that! we gonna talk about you behind
your back.!! see? and we dont care, just shrug our shoulders and laugh or sigh. tonight
like every night is a good night to die.

bleed out to the shores of the saltgreen sea.
blood sister
bleed out to you. bleed out to me.

With permissions from K Garman

Khali to K, July 8th...
What magic do you manifest with light like long forgetten circles of
trees where i go to fly and find freedom from weight of explanations
and defenses?
What strength allows you tender heart i just glimpsed
shocked rushed even bleeding in not out?

I cant believe you speak my
language. Yeah fuck sex! i want roots
and tangled branches beauty of
blood red roses guarded by thorns that we somehow as is by magic as if mythology transcend the
hurt
shame
suffering because its growing old
these games ghetto hustlers play.
Yeah you said it right - not with you
i want nothing but safety in packs when danger persuades us to darker
places there could be a place to find refuge here between this our
saying what cant roll so easily off tongues. The first and then the
second time you held
i had to blush
you held
my hand?
thinking you would think i was just a fool. Yeah
your way too sweet for me but
i can
I promised
I do
i will
hold THIS

-- end of letters

im blessed ...

fuck im blessed! life hella sweet out west. cross any bridge and find yourself. lose yourself in fog and daily grind yourself. the day drips out easy and pure to where you see it right, feel its right. think good thoughts and amplify hope. stamp out the violent end of words, days of lost souls strung out on dope. always for all not easy for all to cope. in honor of heartfelt heartbreak. of another young couple desperate strugglin', ya, for their sake. to tear away from smells, colors, taste of home. its not easy, when you find yourself on the take.

i wake up and open eyes... slowly...wonder were they ever closed at all? see by the coloring of the windowpanes, oh to know again the pure snow of winter! diverse colors of the fall! penitentiary issue clothes now broken in by the lawful, bleached and laundered so many times, looks awful.

worn to remember. now its december. all charges dropped, taxpayer money squandered. this is america two thousand ten. dollar losing strength against yen. golden goose traded in for mudhen. what will we do now? practice mindful zen.
no,no,no. no negativity here. i swear! i love america i wish i could kiss her! shes got all the stray cats we need. shes got nonamericans sweating into citizenship earned. shes peeling like an onion of what she once thought learned. the usa. clearly hiphop and bright silver on a tray. wheels and clubs so hot! to touch. to feel. shes all the fucking artists and screwup writers like me. write what the fuck you want! bottom line: you're free! or so she got you thinking.

america for what shes worth deserves some accolades! shes still got kids, still got stands of lemonade. shes still parading around town in daisy dukes. symbols more entrenched &amplified by urban. and sometimes more appealing. her debt around the world? no damn ceiling! she likes lofts. shes hard in places, but you can find her sometimes so soft. like the rivers begin to run dry. the factories coughed. makes you wanna cry. like the residue of sun, twice a day, base of sky...

the beats of yesterday got us trippin on reds, manifest in us. in underground we trust. and the wander...and the lust.  america usa? will you stay together? i pray. lets mend her, be mindful of her, turtle island of the natives, turtle waxed and so creative. steel wheels spinning and scratching the dopest trax. to make up for trains gone cold. railway memories covered by new plant life. who would restore the railway fever?  we could make it manifest,  how we carried the fire burning inside...mark her beauty. dont forget her, the land we reside.

the land is native, and to native shall she go. beneath the wave, the surge of honest hard working classes from all of mexico. beneath the ebb, beneath the flow, a peaceful ground they say? such is so.

such is so! such is so. such is america, miss usa. so loved. sometimes hated. our miss beautiful. thus related.

bleed out to you. bleed out to me.

i swam then flew then slowed to the beat of the first beating heart, longer
than the 12 count between lightning flash and thunder struck me, your words,
struck me did they just now...you have the style sort of wrapped around
nothing but pure beauty -- Qt -- and shadows, dont forget them shadows.
i am carin' about U but not no more than i care 2.

which means a lot...

BOO!
wow, you awoke me further into the scene of the sacred circle of our trust
between pinkies, between fences, between ghetto tags, between us. i too have
faith in suffering but not with you. no, not with you. its got to be goldenplatinum
and then sum. its got to be numerologically significant like you know we are crossing
our paths just between a lunar and solar eclispse?!?! this is meaningful in no small
way because i do know you. want to know u to your roots, too.

sexual is insignificant. touch is ember. aura? amber. intimacy? i feel it. i feel you in your
smile in your bartering ways in your dishonesty that honesty conveys. it does no harm
to me, for some reason, only you yourself., and YES believe me when i tell you..

suffering is what we all need and what i have had and what i will have...
but not with you. no, not with you. i want to be there in that nameless cool light
with you, that sacred warm home made of our two styles of written word, our
singing out dope trax like song birds. conjured. unitive. pondered. non-punitive.

filling the emptiness in a way no rules of the road can bear witness. this is why they
call us back. you cant do this! girls, you cant do that! we gonna talk about you behind
your back.!! see? and we dont care, just shrug our shoulders and laugh or sigh. tonight
like every night is a good night to die.

bleed out to the shores of the saltgreen sea.
blood sister
bleed out to you. bleed out to me.