blooms for the ancients |

After Joni Mitchell's Blue

For Metzliban

Blue. skies. seas. mountains.
Songs. my life’s soundtrack.
Are. memory and saudade all mixed into one.
Like. opening a time capsule to any day of all the suns I’ve lived.
Tattoos. are secrets. body codices in blue-black.
You. are in my blood that flows outward from the river of ancestor DNA.
Know. this, I will never forget you even when I forget everything else.
I’ve. been on the constant road. And I’ve been still. I possess the will to live.
Been. too blue to get up and leave. But I will be on the road soon as the stars begin to bloom. Again. maybe tomorrow.
To. remember you  all I need to do is listen to the wind  the bluebirds calling in the distance.
Sea. a blue symphony. Dedicated to and from mother earth. her waves keep time with creation’s rhythms.
Before. you came along my life was so poor. You gave me everything I didn’t know I needed.

Poem is Copyright © 2022 Odilia Galván Rodríguez.

From Sea to Shining Sea Series 
for NaPoWriMo (Writings on the P'do in Chief and his goings on).

big boobs bombs bullets | bullshit ballroom burst bubble | bye babied bullies

it's not so nice now |
that even your crew knows you |
for the damned liar |
you   the fakest news born |
of carpetbaggers and such

after you pardon |
yourself and your pedophile |
ilk  will you rocket |
to mars with money you sacked |
a country’s future bled out

two week TACO man |
in Iran you speak with ghosts |
your run around speech |
tonight  we have less clues  which |
of your lies  makes any sense

selling wolf tickets |
only works for the real deals |
not sheep in wolves clothes |
big and tough with little girls |
grown people terrify you 

bullies are babies |
who sic their lackeys  on those |
who fear getting hurt |
but plain folk love peace   their kids |
you love to make them suffer

even Stephen King |
couldn’t have nightmared you up |
next you’ll have war merch |
to sell alongside your coin |
you have demons on speed dial

the season has changed |
full pink moon insomnia |
let’s witness today’s |
abnormal daily shoe drop |
too many balls in the air

you dislike Gavin |
Barrack Obama you hate |
it’s not great being |
you   who abhors cool   or smart |
did you ever have a heart

who crushed the young you |
it’s rough being average | 
in mirrors that look |
back  but only sneer at you |
bound to learn ways  to fail up

is it in your blood |
who taught you that serial |
lying   always good |
better to demand than give |
a damn about anyone

threw blondie Bondi | 
under bus   bound for more   same |
still reveres your name |
got to play the Epstein files |
game   come  catch me if you can 

you know  those big boys |
whose money talks much louder |
than justice   they hush |
mouths   buy men who’ll snuff out |
those who vex their false freedoms

who's next on the list |
Tulsi  Petey  is it Kash |
we'll just have to wait |
see   any of his minions |
could crash and burn   or fall out

his fickle favor |
can turn on a dime   no crime |
is too small or big |
and no one knows when the ax |
will fall   could be today or...

as you lick your wounds |
sitting in the new bunker |
will that door to hell |
finally open inward |
your addled brain stuck on off |

Pam begged you to stay |
her photo’s in the trash bin |
door didn’t hit her |
on the way out  no one looked |
elevator   going down

I hear your hold up |
in the situation room |
some say no   he’s hooked |
up to no good   machines beep |
at Walter Reed   God’s speed  sir

planets align |
in the sign of fire |
war’s horizon |
the energy is angry |
rage   because there is no peace

in a darkened room |
Adderall insomniac |
chaos agent sits |
stares and texts death threats |
generations will be hit

realization |
this didn’t have to happen |
if hatred didn’t |
begin in that long ago |
history of take and take

denial and lies |
won’t make a difference now |
just go on   admit |
your party’s goal all along |
Make America White Again 

now you need bodies |
to use as cannon fodder |
to fight Bibi’s war |
red yellow black and brown |
poor whites forced to fight  for what

a sub-verbal con |
functional illiterate |
hero to jealous |
minds   vacuous and longing |
need daddy to tell them truths

but supreme leader |
on one of the holiest |
Christian holidays |
misses church   spends time cursing |
in most ignorant of ways

he’s escalating |
his worst serial war crimes |
while loyal dogs |
at his side   spin war stories |
yes   more tail wagging than true

Sir p'do in Chief |
has his bean counters counting |
all demands for the |
missing Epstein files   now we’re |
at destruction’s open maw

blood thirsty mad dog |
what are you envisioning |
glee after the kill |
do you want someone to stop |
you   looks as though no one will |

in you we are thrown |
back to the times of callous |
denial of life |
though human hearts beat sacred |
in flesh  a spark of most high 

holy spirit breath |
rests in ALL sentient life |
that lives on this earth |
you would reduce life to ash |
prove all your short  sightless might

you think your wrongs right |
no man should ever hold such |
force to threaten death |
monster of conflagration |
the whole world is watching you

Apocalypse now’s |
a two-week turnaround |
what chaos comes next |
to distract us from those files |
he thinks    aren’t y’all sick yet

there’s still lots of hell |
to unleash  on you all |
I can dream up so much more |
with your tax dollars at work |
grifts   like never before seen …

yes   war monger |
daily we witness your worst |
horrors    real or posed |
unfold    so-called governance |
the worst kind of huckster hoax

America first |
left in the dust  for their fuss |
over your “who cares” files |
now hidden deep in DOJ’s |
bowels   you say   people —

I can do this all day long
This is a Tug of War You Can’t Win!



Poem is Copyright © 2026 Odilia Galván Rodríguez.

Color
of desert floor
after a long windstorm
grayish tresses tattered tangles
burnished

Burnished
mountain medley
colors cut in wind shear
umpteen years of lightning-kissed cliffs
laughing

Your laugh 
tinkling sounds
toned down by rainstorm noise
outside front door screen slams open
welcomes

Welcomes
hard to come by
these days all are guarded
while war rages all around us
we sleep

We sleep
to dream up ways
out of this nightmare
meanwhile naked king is madly
missing

Morning

I was
sorting papers
this morning  sky layers
cyan grey  white-down  veneers of
blue dawn

Blue Dawn
streaks across streets
this is a city far
from the ancestral Sandia’s
My place

My Place
I discovered 
after I was long gone
again desert calls me  to hear
morning

Mornings
there  begins with
listening to silence
in the natural light you see
Yourself

Your-self
speaks in the tongues 
of your ancestor’s blood
oceans of knowledge  tickle you
to write

Taboo
words that cause harm
only in our mouths   bleed
because you   are always allowed 
to speak

To speak
to live freely
benefit of the doubt
privilege to be believed and seen
as right

As right 
now means   to stay
in your lane   believe them
when they say   your eyes always lie
gaslight

Gaslight 
smoke and mirrors
our cameras are eyes
they film the endless lies   you spew 
face-masked

Face Masked
heartless demons 
troll our streets for bounty
sold their souls for three-thousand bucks
a piece

Achcauhtli

dedicated to the Cēmānāhuac Poet Laureate Francisco X. Alarcón 

You, King of Hummingbirds
of Monarch butterflies
of bluest gulf waters
whose waves rise to 
the height of skyskrapers
to kiss winking stars 
in overcast skies
You, a lighthouse 
that has always beckoned me
from that shadowy place
of deepest dark
of being lost in tumultuous waters
of self-doubt and fear
You, who is always sure
of the magia
our ancestor’s tongues
the glyphs of invocation contained
in sounds of sunrise and sunset
their energy transferred to 
our own words
to the sacred stones that sing
sealed by the feathers of mighty birds
or a simple snap of our fingers
You, man of heart and wisdom
there is no place you can go
where the wind does not whisper
your name 
its secrets in your ear
the eternal spiral that links
your healing words
to our lips
that flower
in flor y canto ~

IN LAK'ECH - HALA K'IN

Notes:

Achcauhtli: Leader

Cēmānāhuac: the name used by the Aztecs to refer to their world. It is a Nahuatl 
name derived from the words "cē”, one/whole, and "Ānāhuac", which in turn derives 
from the words "atl" (water) and "nahuac”, close, near, or in the vicinity of.


IN LAK'ECH - HALA K'IN: Mayan for ~ I am you, and you are me.

The Crone has one foot
in the Spirit realm, one here
knows to walk  her talk

Mictecacihuatl 
guide us through deepest darkness
the sludge in shadows

La Anciana 
sabia y sana 
sabe curarnos

certain of vision
walk us through transformation 
and all the unknown

our transmutation 
shedding skins of the old guard
away from the greed
the bad seeds  mutated new
we  the furture ~ alchemists


© 2026 Odilia Galván Rodríguez

Deity of the Wind

She can stand center
rooted  she calls the four winds
controls her own life 

one foot on the earth
one foot with her ancestors  
firm in the star camp

a feathered serpent
sheds the shadows and darkness
leaps  into the light

worms swirl  burr small holes
in a bleached white conch shell   bees
buzz loud  trumpet sound 

bones circled and stacked
stored deep  a cave in Mictlan
their blood into life 

 

Copyright © Odilia Galván Rodríguez

Mother Earth
and the Aliens 

Earth wants to detain
other planet's aliens
they don't love it here

no they don't love her
try to erase her people
try to suck her dry

indestructible
Earth  the mother you can't crush
says  go on home now

your go home billions
have been made on her children's 
backs   through sweat and tears

their sweat and labor  not 
yours   go home planets call  you
hear   leave us alone 


Copyright © Odilia Galván Rodríguez

Ancestors kept big
secrets   a survival way
then many of theirs
were struck mute of mother tongues

Native tongues slashed in
half   like some of their ears sought
enemy's language

Their ways were not yours
but you went along to get
a long way away

Forced to trade one settler's 
ways for another's
they drew a new line 

Where there had never been one
we crossed    walked ancient
trade routes not erased

We shall not be moved
by cosplay rangers and cow-
girls who kill puppies


Copyright © Odilia Galván Rodríguez. 

Nomatca Nehuatl
I Myself

Por los Poemas del maestro Francisco X. Alarcón !Presente!
Snake Poems an Aztec Invocation
 
yo misma
yo de los siete mares
hija de Yemayá
quien baila bien
las olas de dar y recibir
quien ha conocido la sal
de mil millones de lágrimas
que ha pagado mis deudas
durante todos estos años
yo que respeto toda la vida
yo mujer de la tierra
yo rosa con espinas
yo corazón de tuna
yo lengua afilada
yo buscadora de la verdad
yo encantadora de serpientes
yo machetera por la justicia
yo amante del amor
yo aspirante a visionario
y veraz
yo virgen-puta
yo mujer que resiste
no más de lo que puedo
yo mujer sabia
yo herbolaria urbana-
descendiente de curanderas
yo escritora
yo altavoz
profesora
maestra
yo sembradora de semillas
nomatca nehuatl


Copyright © Odilia Galván Rodríguez.  All Rights Reserved.