walking on the fields of slaves

24 Jan

Closing eyes while facing the setting sun,

over marsh and salty creeks,
provides a primitive script
on the inside of my pink-skinned lids.
i was the cave dweller who carved
notches for the ones I’ve been.
i run my cursor over the alligator skin
encoded with the story of all time,
left here for me –
thinking there is no way
she will miss it, this time.

i see the structure of my mundane thoughts
solid like walls built on each side – but i can
push them back with my
shadowy arms.
my house is
a cardboard house, with folding lines preset
to make it gone in a new york minute.
WOLF may huff and puff –
but i tell him,
put your predatory mind at rest:


give you my house
and my piggie flesh too
no need for a scene.

listen to the drone of rush hour traffic
while my feet touch the land of original settlers.
blood and sweat in the dirt and air,
they are for dinner, whole.
I am thinking again
and the mind conjures
up a rule that I am only pulled down
by that which i have not healed – what
does that mean?
do I/i remember my days as slave,
as master,
beast and bird?

when i move in the world,

i have become
a piece of the sky
in a sports bra.
there is room for every
crazy thing that i can imagine.
the I has forgotten,

but now i remember

the very next person/animal/plant/or insect that i cross
has chosen to cross my path for a holy encounter.
There is only now to

pray as i enter the post office –
talkย to my sliver of chocolate –
and studyย the morse code of the dishwashers whirring
moving my hips to the swoosh:
no need to escape to the cave
any more.
The cave moves within me
as dark and silent
as can be –
a black hole
in motion –
time behind her curving path.

24 Responses to “walking on the fields of slaves”

  1. ptero9 January 24, 2015 at 3:43 pm #

    Beautiful Marga, just beautiful!

    • marga t. January 25, 2015 at 1:47 pm #

      Thank you, Debra. ๐Ÿ™‚

  2. kimberlyharding January 24, 2015 at 3:53 pm #

    I Love “I have become a piece of the sky in a sports bra”… ๐Ÿ™‚

    • marga t. January 25, 2015 at 1:48 pm #

      I was sure I wasn’t the only one… ๐Ÿ™‚

  3. Hariod Brawn January 24, 2015 at 4:20 pm #

    A magical evocation of our original – should that be aboriginal? – existence, and how we devour each of our pasts as we disappear into the future. Then again, it may just be a preternatural vision induced by chocolate.

    • marga t. January 25, 2015 at 1:50 pm #

      You once said it took you many words to make your point, but your concise summing up here is IT, exactly!
      (lately I’ve been feeling surprised that the FDA is not going after the high Cacao chocolates on the market nowโ€ฆwowza!) ๐Ÿ™‚

  4. New Earth Paradigm January 24, 2015 at 4:28 pm #

    Wow! Marga — I had to read this twice to even begin to wrap my head around it. You have included so many images in this short piece that my first quick read left me spread out all over the poetic place. The title itself was an emotional hurdle to jump — I may have walked around it, though. (lol)

    However, on closer listening and feeling, I came to the experience of Oneness, which is the opposite of slavery, so once again, you have liberated yourself by diving into your own and Humanity’s dark past and helped us all see a pathway for our own emancipation. As we say in Morocco — Hamdulillah! I can’t translate it, it’s a kind of “Happy Dance to God’ in one word. Love and hugs, Alia

    • marga t. January 25, 2015 at 1:53 pm #

      Oh, I love Hamdulillah! I see a communal dance of joy to God in this calorie-rich word.
      I had noticed that you mentioned a trip down the West Coast over at Maren’s. Love sent to you and T on wherever your travels are taking you now! xo! m

      • New Earth Paradigm January 26, 2015 at 5:51 pm #

        Did not work out to meet with M but we are about to embark on our first “ambassadorial tour” to Oregon with at least one opportunity to address a group regarding our experiences with “the Muslim terrorists” we encountered in Morocco. Nothing of the kind, of course. This is part of my vision of being cultural bridges. Tomas has his own perspective that is much simpler. I still hold onto DOing, while he holds up the BEing end of things. Blessings, Alia

  5. M.A.m January 24, 2015 at 4:51 pm #

    This is what happens when we step out of time instead of worrying about running out of time.

  6. M.A. January 24, 2015 at 4:51 pm #

    Is this what happens when we step out of time rather than worrying about running out of time?

    • marga t. January 25, 2015 at 1:54 pm #

      maybe, baby! I enjoyed hearing about your swimming and I am wondering if you experience some of that timelessness in that buoyancy?

      • M.A. January 25, 2015 at 6:07 pm #

        We’ll see. I’m going to try for a mile today. {:~)

  7. smilecalm January 24, 2015 at 5:26 pm #

    nobly you hold past incarnations, marga
    that all continue with their shadows & light
    living with how things are now, with chocolate ๐Ÿ™‚

    • marga t. January 25, 2015 at 1:56 pm #

      the now is so rich
      as chocolate
      has often shown me ๐Ÿ™‚
      I so appreciate your visit

  8. Michael January 25, 2015 at 3:10 am #

    Oh my, M, what a difference half a lunar cycle makes. I think the last time we partook of a walk-induced glimpse through your eyes, you were hunting for this state. Now I am on-line looking to make an investment in water-cooled routers so the depth of vision encoded on the black hole swaying electrons doesn’t bring down the house.

    “I am only pulled down by that which I have not healed…” That was one for me to sit with. There is so much we sense we carry with us, isn’t there? It’s not just you remembering those caves, but all of us… We sprang forth from the ones who wrote the Instructions on the wall. Who among us stands apart from who we have been? Whose healing is not accomplished for all of us as well? It is monumental when you think about it, how every point in time is embraced, carried within us, when we submit to the pink-lidded glories of the sun…



    • marga t. January 25, 2015 at 2:01 pm #

      I so appreciate the teamwork I can clearly see that carries me through the hunting state to more emptied out downloading black hole info sessions. We have built a place large enough to hold it all, together. Hip hip! cheerio to you on the enormous sunday morning, MM! ๐Ÿ™‚

  9. ~meredith January 27, 2015 at 5:09 am #

    and the sway is elegant.

    strong like an elephant’s trunk.

    moving the dust into motion again. _/|\_

    • marga t. January 28, 2015 at 12:51 pm #

      mapping the territory – gripping the mysterious center that holds itself, beyond my “trying” today ๐Ÿ™‚ I return to your words and pictogram for remembering.

      • ~meredith January 28, 2015 at 2:14 pm #

        Just show up. ๐Ÿ™‚

  10. Amanda January 29, 2015 at 8:31 pm #

    ‘The cave moves within me.’ Indeed. Beautiful M!

    • marga t. February 1, 2015 at 3:00 am #

      heart squeezes ๐Ÿ™‚

  11. FullEmpty February 1, 2015 at 3:56 pm #

    Hi, I just discovered your blog via tiramit. Thanks for the inspiring poetry. I particularly liked:

    i see the structure of my mundane thoughts
    solid like walls built on each side โ€“ but i can
    push them back with my
    shadowy arms.

    Meditation through poetry ๐Ÿ™‚

    Looking forward to exploring your blog some more.

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