Category: Crone

Easter

On By ©️K.T.2026In Crone, Crone Consciousness, Cronehood, Easter, Essay, exposition, Gnosis, Mother, Motherhood, OuroborosLeave a comment

a version of this foto essay was first published

April 2019

Spring is life.

A mother rabbit birthed at least three bunnies in a niche of the house – enclosed on three sides with only a northern mossy exposure – mostly safe and hidden from owls, hawks and coyotes. They nibble on young dandelion and clover leaves. They are joy.

My one and only baby’s very first Easter and Spring. A surprise of daffodils under a white oak tree at our first house and home on Grace Street in Chicago. Mother, son, full of grace.

I don’t know where the stuffed white rabbit with pink, acrylic eyes and pink, satin ears came from — exactly. But I’ve had it forever, before memory, so I pretend that it was presented to the baby girl born in late October, just before Halloween. Or gifted to the baby girl on her first Easter. Or won for the toddler girl at her first carnival.

Before I was a mother to a boy, I — an only child — was a teenaged auntie to a beautiful boy named +Tony+ [Giovanni Anthony Martinez] born in Spring 1986. I learned from him that I might become a mother to a son one day even though I was sure I was meant only to be a mother to a daughter. And that, was a wonderful revelation.

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is this real life: zone of interest

On By ©️K.T.2026In Crone, crone chronicles, Crone Consciousness, Cronehood, Existence, Genocide, Golden Hour, liminal, liminality, limineen, Magic Hour, PalestineLeave a comment

happy saturday afternoon.

i am making a marinara, but i may pivot and make it a vegan bolognese, served over bucatini or vegan mushroom or eggplant ravioli.

i haven’t yet decided — while children are being genocided

by intentional starvation

in Gaza, Palestine.

there is famine in Sudan. And Congo. And Ethiopia, too.

how is this real life?

in 2024, while The World can watch from their screens. while knowing there is enough food in The World for all of them.

yet, here, i am deciding: between listening to a podcast about one of my favorite fellow outer-ruralers, Ted Kaczynski (the irony is not lost) — or, a pandora station mashup of caamp and uncle lucius – both bands, i first learned of from time with my son in wondrous and humbling wilderness landscapes and cozy lodging — or, continuing my Clarissa Pinkola Estes audio book the Power of the Crone Myths & Stories of the Wise Woman Archetype //

so many choices for dinner, intellectual stimulation or joy while i am safe and warm and mostly, whole.

how does this dichotomy exist?

that is rhetorical.

i feel the grief of helplessness most acutely when i am in the grocery store shopping for food and while i am preparing and cooking food — the most basic of human tasks //

a meadow in Michigan, The World.

this is a foto of golden-rosy light shining on the snow-covered meadow that i have the immense privilege to nurture, protect and observe, on land i occupy — at Sun’s peaceful, not violent, rise this morning — the precious snow all melted by afternoon

Crone tip :

when you glimpse the blaze of golden-rosy light, you must act instantly:

get to the window, get outside, with or without an artificial lens or shoes — because the glow is gone in less than minutes.

Human Earthling tip:

when you glimpse a genocide and famine you must act instantly:

you must speak out, loudly; you must resist in all possible ways; you must refuse to look away as you live life; you must do something, anything, to try and stop it; you must do anything, something to try and help other Earthlings; you must resist and “refuse to be an accomplice to genocide.”

Our World sits just outside of Gaza, of Palestine. We are All in the zone of interest, right now.

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a mantra, a prayer — and a message

On By ©️K.T.2026In art, art is resistance, Crone, Crone Consciousness, Earthling, Lajuana Lampkins, photograph, photography, Poem, poetry, vignetteLeave a comment 
for all the demons, monsters and liars, 
today and always, everywhere:
FUCK YOU IN PERPETUITY THROUGHOUT THE UNIVERSE
in every form known to man.
now and in the future.
artist: Ernesto Yerena Montenajo

limited edition hand-pulled screen print
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an open letter on a 65°f primary election day in Michigan | day 145 of Israel’s acute genocide of the Palestinian People

On By ©️K.T.2026In Abortion, anthropocene, anti-fascism, Ceasefire, climate, Climate Collapse, Crone, Crone Consciousness, Earth hospice, Earthling, earthlings, ecocide, exposition, Free Palestine, Gaza, Genocide, israel, Lament, Lamentations, Liberation, Open Letter, Palestine, Poem, Rafah, State of Israel, U.S. Elections, womb, women, Womenfolk, ZionismLeave a comment

good afternoon:

i feel like i should have started my heirloom tomato and chiltepin seeds on New Year’s Eve, but i haven’t even ordered or sorted seeds yet;

that I should’ve picked up a bottle of mineral facial sunscreen and given myself a pedicure yesterday;

that the swimsuits overwhelming retail spaces are not for spring breakers and resort goers but for anyone headed to North Avenue Beach in Chicago or Silver Beach in Michigan today;

and that i wish i didn’t know that the Thwaites Glacier is hanging on by fewer and weaker pinning points;

do you respect or even revere military service? i know many of you certainly do/

Continue reading “an open letter on a 65°f primary election day in Michigan | day 145 of Israel’s acute genocide of the Palestinian People” →

crow-hearted

On By ©️K.T.2026In Animals, Crone, crone chronicles, Crows, Death, dirt road chronicles, Earthling, earthlings, ki, kin, kinship, outer rural, relationships, the old godsLeave a comment

i have a heart for crows.

a Crow died and also lived here

likely dying during or before the brief, but deep snowdrifts of january 2024

and definitely not by predation; Crows are simply too smart for the local feral cat bird-killers (the only worthwhile information that author Jonathan Franzen ever imparted to me) — and work in groups to warn and defend against hawks and owls;

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postpartum

On By ©️K.T.2026In Alchemy, Aurum, Birth, Crone, Cronehood, Feminine, grandmother, kin, maiden, maternity, Mother, Poem, poetry, Sacred Feminine, symbiosity, womb, women, WomenfolkLeave a comment

fetal cells
remain in a mother’s body for decades
they know this
particularly
because of mothers of sons

son cells discovered
co-mingling in their mother’s
blood
and marrow
long after their first breaths of atmosphere
and for far too many mothers,
long after their child’s last

we mothers, in-secret chimeras
29, 50,
years after birthing /

no wonder

he breathes
1,191.582 miles away from me

as the crow flies,
as the monarch flies
as the hummingbird flies

and still, i feel the cells of gold i alchemized

for 42 strange, wondrous weeks

in my crone bones

postpartum is forever

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preparation

On By ©️K.T.2026In agraria, bucolia, climate, Climate Collapse, Crone, crone chronicles, Crone Consciousness, Cronehood, dirt road chronicles, Earthling, ecocide, Genocide, goodbye city life, inner city, outer rural, Palestine, planetary hospice, Poem, poetry, ruralia, Winter, WomenfolkLeave a comment

she counted propane canisters
for her two “Mr. Heaters”
put batteries in her camp lanterns — circa 2004,
set out votive and prayer candles, matches and lighters,

worked past midnight
to empty, wash, fill or refill glass wine bottles with water for drinking, teeth-brushing, cooking

that is the advantage of the white wine screw cap bottles
p.s. VOGA pinot grigio is unrivaled for this use
she’s saved them over the months for this sole purpose, those Italians sure know what they’re doin’

she rotated supply: filled buckets with the previously stored precious water,
placed them in the bathtubs for toilet flushing
and in Igloo jugs
for hand and face washing
& dishwashing

(and, hoe baths too)

this beautiful welled water, pumped from 75 feet below the surface, 10 feet of clay and 65 of sand, her friend once researched county well drill permit records for her.

she made a pot of marinara, boiled 3 lbs of potatoes, planned for pancakes, printed out dutch oven bread recipes,

she set out the dog’s paw wax and his wardrobe of coats,

she refreshed her vintage wool blankets on low heat with honeysuckle-infused dryer sheets,

found her favorite j. crew wool men’s sweater, moss green — circa 1999, which reminded: she best learn some knitting – for repairs and darning, at the very least, the cuff seam is unraveling, but, my god, it’s so warm.

she filled all the bird feeders before sunset, although she’s spotted deer at them at twilight and midnight — using their tongues to excavate the seed,

she set the snow shovel and outdoor broom just outside, beside her back door

all this,

just in case

freezing lines and tree limbs knock the power out

and Lake Effect drifts become temporarily insurmountable

she’s always prepared, she always knows what to do

or can generally figure it out, figure a way out of it

even without GPS

except:

what to do in

a genocide and in climate collapse.

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Oh, Tonantzin, Our Mother, Our Lady of Guadalupe!

On By ©️K.T.2026In america, Capitalism, Colonization, Congo, Creation Story, Crone, demons, DRC, Earthling, Gaza, Genocide, Guadalupe, Indigenous Land, kin, La Virgen of Guadalupe, Lamentations, Life and Death, Mother, Mother God, Palestine, Sacred Feminine, spirits, State of Israel, The Virgin of Guadalupe, Tonantzin, WomenfolkLeave a comment

Today, on the feast day of La Virgen de Guadalupe, from the valley and river of the wolves,

who is and always was Tonantzin, the Nahuas’ Universal Mother of Earth, they being one and the same parthenogenetic Creatrix-entity of Life —and of Death, here on Earth:

art by @lala_wera

In the name of Tonantzin, I rebuke the State of Israel and the United States

— both nations stand defiantly in their ongoing slaughter of 18,000 human beings so far — nearly all of those killed — are Palestinian civilians and more than half of them are children — hundreds of thousands more are injured, maimed — in tremendous pain, suffering from unfathomable loss, from hunger, thirst, and disease — and dispossessed of and displaced from their mothers, families, beds, kitchens, homes, pets, art, schools, toys, lifework — and land,

and the Western and Eastern global capitalist powers — in their protracted genocide, mass exploitation, enslavement and dispossession of the People of Congo,

I call to and incant unto Tonantzin for the downfall of these two seated governments, and of the despots and oligarchs, who are a scourge on this good Earth and all Life upon it.

Tonantzin Tlalli Coatlicue

May these demons be stricken by Her snakes and devoured by Her wolves and may their bones be cast into the eternal inferno with not one cinder or ash remaining. Forgotten Forever.

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definition | author | proof of life:

On By ©️K.T.2026In author, Crone, Cronehood, Earthling, Gnostic, Her, ki, kin, kinship, liminal, liminality, limineen, maiden, Mother, Motherhood, Pneumatic, Poem, poet, poetry, self portaiture, witch, WomenfolkLeave a comment

foremost Earthling, crone,
and mother to a golden boy;
nightly traveler into liminality;
mostly obeisant
to intuition & premonition;
poet, writer;
heart-sleeved,
bleeding heart pessimist;
devoted friend of crows (at last),
meadow-restorer/tender,
& long-lost sister to snakes, bats and coyotes,
deer & bluebird whisperer,
seed saver, food grower,
an admirer and propagator
of lilacs, hydrangeas,
sycamores, mulberries, pawpaws and oaks;
dna-tested kin to goldenrod, milkweed,
bison, cottonwoods, thistle and monarchs;
wader into ephemeral and glacial
lakes and deep snow;
Moon’s luminous, loyal daughter
& Sun’s prodigal, ever-questioning shadow
equally;
devout, ecstatic
desert, forest and river worshipper;
reverent of and humbly deferent to
bear, wolf, moose, elk & bighorn sheep and hummingbirds;
a mountain, canyon, valley,
prairie and beach walker;

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the mourning cloak

On By ©️K.T.2026In butterfiles, Crone, Crone Consciousness, Death, Funerary, grief, Lament, Lamentations, liminal, liminality, mourning, Poem, poet, poetry, spirit, Spiritive, spirits, thresholdLeave a comment

near invisible,

imagine silk organza, chameleoned

peach-pink colored, when i Am naked,

the color of water as i bathe.

sky blue, golden, sherbet, grayed or midnight black,

when i Am outside

ever-shifting with the time of day and weather,

once, even green,

as i knelt down in the cold grass

while diaphanous to all the unobservant

i Am dressed in this cloak of mourning

and the hem is lined with lead

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popular!

On By ©️K.T.2026In Beauty, Beauty Industry, Capitalism, Crone, Crone Consciousness, Cronehood, Elphaba, Estrangement, Hylic, Pneumatic, Poem, poemo, poetry, Psychic, Sacred Feminine, Wicked, witch, witchery, WomenfolkLeave a comment

the path of the hylic

she had always prized
quantity over quality
with both people and money
never interrogating
the integrity or provenance of either

never asking the hard questions of herself

nor pursuing the big ones,

now,

she’s left only with errant glitter,

an impotent wand,

a cortège of pink fools,

her plated crown of paste jewels, atop her head, askew

you see, i knew that was all distraction, decoy, masked unconfidence

home, is within your Self

so, i chose to be [come] “Wicked”,

i wear my gold

in my bones,

in my blood.

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The Murder of an August Meadow

On By ©️K.T.2026In August, Crone, crone chronicles, dirt road chronicles, ki, kin, Lament, Lamentations, plant beings, Poem, poetry, summer, symbiosity, wildlifeLeave a comment

full bloom,
milkweed, goldenrod, chicory,
aster,
thistle or teasel — i don’t know
they’re 7, 8, 9, feet tall
their leaf cups full of collected dew, or rain

the meadow is just all

give give give.

in fifteen minutes,
give or take,


all, gone
beneath a tractor blade

take, take, take,

take.

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