All photos and content © Tanya Anguita.

Thursday, June 29, 2017

Words Matter


"Words matter. Never forget this."

This was my soul speaking to me at the witching hour. When my soul speaks, I listen.

"Words," it said, "have might. Words have majesty. Words have prowess. Words have
power. Words are safety and solace, fire and fuel, danger and delight.

Words, with an express delivery, deliver expression. When you're feeling expressive they
express feeling. They are capable of creative clarity and clear creativity.

Words cajole. Words tease.
Words try me. Words release me.

Words hold me, hurt me, heal me, haunt me. Words keep me company when I cannot sleep.

Words are the delicious delicacies in the stuff of my dreams. Words are the disturbing
demons in my waking nightmares. Words challenge me when I need to grow. Words
comfort and console me when I feel small and need them most.

Words have potential. Words carry thought and bestow meaning.

Words have weight. So often I wait for the right words to wait on me. To lean into me,
weighty while I await their weighted might.

Words are written in the secret places of my psyche and proclaimed in a timeless ink on
my skin. Look closely...anyone with a patient eye will see them. There, love is penned on
the parchment of hope. You'll read longing and desire, and savor the satisfying flavor of
fulfillment. There is heartbreak and hurt, bravery and bravado, appetence and ache,
strength, wisdom, humour, and a sprinkling of magic.

Truth lives in my words, beauty too, and a wicked laughter that appears most often when
shared.

Words have a life of their own. Words live on long after they're said.

Words can be as playful as a water pistol or as serious as a silver bullet hurtling towards
your heart.

Words can be colder than an ice flow and more cutting than a butcher's knife. Words can
freeze your spirit and kill you with their arctic cruelty.

Words can wrap you in a sultry warmth you won't want to recover from and keep you
comforted in a way no duvet will ever achieve. Words can be hotter than a naked lover
on a cold winter night.

Words cradle me in the arms of angels. Words hide me from the vengeful enemies that
are my cruelest monsters. Words both create and slay the hide-y bastards that lurk in the
corners of my word hungry mind. Words chew on the bones of my secret fears.

You cannot unsay words. You can never unsay words. Therefor, choose your words
wisely.

By all means, play with your words. Explore them! Be whimsical with words, dance with
them in the waning sunlight, splash through them in colourful rainboots, run them over
your body like the softest silk while giggling at the sensual secrets you conjure with
them. Make poetic leaps with them like so many mountain goats on a rocky crag, or float
gracefully to the clouds with them like Phileas Fogg in his hot air balloon taking 80 days
to circumnavigate the globe of your tender psyche.

But also, I entreat you, wield words wisely and with gracious compassion. Be aware with
your words. Do not use them as burning brand to mark me. Do not, callous in their usage,
bruise my spirit with your thoughtlessness. Think before your words become whips that
scar or chains that bind.

Instead, brush them soothingly over my fevered brow like a cool cloth on a hot day. Hold
them up as a gentle offering, an olive branch after a long wintry warring of the soul.
Wave them at me as a flag of truce. Cheer me on with them above the roar of the day.
Wrap your words around me softly. Rub them against my rain washed skin. Kiss me with
them until I can't breathe; my lips passion-bruised from gasping their joy to the world.

I like to run my tongue across the subtle textures of my words. I like to lap at them, to
lick luxuriously, to languorously linger on each arching syllable as I lave them in the
moonlight of my mind. I like to savor their softness, and sink my teeth into their flesh
until they whimper under the pressure and quietly beg for more.

Words hang in the ether like a beacon or a flaming cross, depending how they're
intentioned and how you wield them. Wield them wisely, whimsically, wishfully, but
never with cruelty or wastefulness. Wash daily in words and your spirit will glow with
the beautifying effects of a mind well cared for."

I have a love for words and in wording this I have found many loves. My soul speaks
truth.

Words matter. Never forget this.

Words matter.

June 7, 2010
Copyright Tanya Anguita

Saturday, June 27, 2015

Mermaid

In the Sea of Life,
there are those that fight the waves,
And those
that the waters
recognize
as their own.

Mermaid --

Singer of magic,
Weaver of dreams,
Font of laughter,
Community builder,
Kindness bringer,
Bastion of strength,
And speaker of truths --

YOU ,
Loved by so many,
glide and dance
With remarkable power,
Over the rippling water's edge,
And straight into
The loving arms of Poseidon.

He's been waiting for you,
You know,
With love in his heart.

And now
The Waves
caress your Beloved face,
welcoming you Home
After seeming eons
of waiting
For your
Sweet Return.

©Tanya Anguita

Tuesday, June 9, 2015

She....

She is my heart
In a small warm body
Separate (and not)
From mine....

She is my best
Every thing...
My breath,
My soul,
My largest of the small.

She is a huge being
In a tiny package,
A mirror to
My harshest truths

She is the sun
Bright and powerful
To my waxing
And waning moon.

She is my dearest
My toughest,
My most beloved,
My teacher,
And my student.

She is my laughter,
My tears,
My hopes,
My fears,
She is Love,

She is Magic,

She is my Child.

And I am blessed to be her Mother.

©Tanya Anguita


Monday, September 8, 2014

Another Chance to get it Right

Full Moon has me up again
When I should be asleep;
All the doubtful, hateful thoughts
Into my psyche creep.
In Motherhood's clear mirror
Is a harsh and cruel reflection,
Filled with unkind, fearful thoughts
And glaring imperfection.
Black Dog wanders close to me
Pressed up against my leg.
Artemis's darker side
Takes me down a peg.
She used to make me brazen, warm;
To magnify my boldness.
I know Her fullness better now,
I'm Sister to Her coldness.
Instead of strength and fearlessness,
I'm wracked with doubt and worry.
Wound tighter than an 8 day clock,
I'm always in a hurry.
I feel like I am over-strung,
A bow that's pulled too tight.
The Lady Moon just magnifies
All that isn't right.
I've lost my way this moonlit night
So aimlessly I roam
I wander, fearful, in the dark
I can't find my way home.
I love Her still and gaze on Her
With Unrequited love,
While hoping that She'll send a
Fleeting smile from above.
Or grant me Grace where I have none --
A gesture made of kindness.
Her glacial glow a soothing balm -
A light to cure my Blindness.
I'd like to lay these frightful thoughts
Forever on a shelf;
To see in the Moon's Glory
The kindest version of my Self.
I want to see her Harvest-Strength -
She's Maiden, Mother, Crone -
To find in Her a brighter, truer
Image of my Own.
So here I am, Her supplicant,
Bathing in her light,
Naked in my honesty,
A wingless bird in flight.
Writing out this crazy prayer
Under a cloudless sky
While learning how to glide and dip -
If not exactly fly.
As long as I don't hit the ground
In blazing, flaming glory,
I have the chance to daily write
A new part of my story.
So maybe that's the lesson
On this Moonful, thoughtful night -
That every minute is
Another Chance to get it Right.
Thank you Lovely Luna
For the lessons that you teach,
Even on the harsher nights
When you feel out of reach.
I think that I'll repeat myself
Because it soothes my soul:
Every minute is another chance
To make One whole.
I think that that's my lesson
On this Moonful, Thoughtful Night -
That Every minute is
Another Chance to get it Right.

(c) Tanya Anguita
9/8/2014


Friday, June 20, 2014

Black Dog

Black Dog
is
gnawing at my soul tonight.
Can't get out
from under the weight
of its heavy jaw
which is wrapped
around the tender confines
of my weary heart.

I am out of resources,
out of joy,
and at a loss
for where to find them.

The Ol' Red Shoes
are dancing me
relentlessly around the room
these days
to a never-ending loop
of the Song of Despair
while my heart
bleeds out
through my raw soul
on a glass-strewn dance floor
in a hostile bar
called "Life."

I'm drowning on land,
choking on dirt and earthly matter(s)
Swallowing my filthy pride
in gulps of rubble and grime.

Oh how I'd like to sink into the mire,
settle into the loam below,
and stop fighting
the "good" fight.

Every gesture
(in the attempt to keep afloat)
feels like
Futility,
cloaked in
"Why?"
in a never-ending trek
towards
Failure.

I have nothing left
to offer
and I'm too tired
to care.

I used to think that
Joy
was my due.

I thought that
Happiness
was something
I would always find.

I believed that
Love
was boundless;
that
Delight
was not fleeting.

But
Exhaustion
is replete,
Anger
eats away at me,
Impatience and Resentment
are poisoning my thoughts,
and my actions.

My account at the
Give a Fuck Bank
is almost empty...
save for the few pennies
rattling around
in the rusty bottom
of the worn tin can
of loving care
that
I'm rabidly guarding
to share with
the beautiful child
it is my job
and my blessing
to raise.

It feels like not enough tonight
and I'm scared.

(c) Tanya Anguita
June 20, 2014

Saturday, October 19, 2013

Smoke-scented Midnight

Smoke-scented midnight
steals my sleep.
I long for Nothing
but the stillness
that will not come tonight.

Full Moon Glorious --
Pumpkin orange as it rose --
I taste Magic
in the night sky.

Distant memories
of ancient selves...
vie for precedence
in the now.

Which "me" is Me?

A shimmer in the
Spirit Veil...
A shiver on the breeze.

I’ve forgotten how to write;
How to “use my words”
And in so many ways
It just doesn’t matter.
And in so many ways
It Does.

Which "me" is Me?

Sleep-deprived,
I’m sometimes lonely
for my other Selves;
For those pieces of me
lying dormant;
For the comfy jeans feel of
the Personal Identifiers
I’m accustomed to
But cannot find.

An owl in the darkness
Asks me “Who?”
In moon-twisted reverie,
My silence is his answer.

Smoke-scented midnight
steals my sleep.
I long for Nothing
but the stillness
that will not come tonight.

Full Moon Glorious --
I taste Magic
in the night sky...

(c) Tanya Anguita
10/19/2013

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Swallows Me Whole

The moon wakes my soul
She swallows me whole
And now
She
Will not let me sleep!
The sphere in the sky
With a clear seeing eye
Laughs
When I try to count sheep.
She knows my heart
She tears it apart
Then She
Puts it together again.
This early morn
I'm being reborn
In the ebb
Of her bright wax
And wane.

-- Tanya Anguita