grandfather sun

I’m seeing people play the blame game re: Hansung’s death, so heres the truth:

Hansung died protecting Sun Woo because Dan Se was told to kill the King by his grandfather who thought that Sun Woo was the King because Young Sil sent assassins to kill Sun Woo because Sun Woo said he was King when they were in Baekje. But Sun Woo only said he was King because the Crown Prince of Baekje heard that the King was one of them, and threatened to kill Ah Ro, and because Ji Dwi wasn’t coming out, he had no choice. But the Crown Prince only knew the King was there because Ban Ryu gave him the message from Young Sil, who sent the message to confirm/kill the King who he thought was Sun Woo because Ji So was protecting him when Young Sil initially had his guard almost kill Sun Woo. But Ji So only did so to protect Ji Dwi and take the spotlight off of him, because Young Sil made it known that the King was in Hwarang. But Young Sil only knew because Sun Woo dropped the bracelet, but Sun Woo only had the bracelet because Ji Dwi dropped it. But Ji Dwi dropped it in a fight with Sun Woo who was trying to find the person who killed Mak Moon, but Mak Moon died because he saw the King’s face and he only saw the King’s face because he entered the capital to find his family. But he was only looking for his family because they were separated most likely as a result of Ji So who was in love with Ahn Ji Gong  and was rejected by him and made to marry the previous King 

so, to conclude, Hansung died because Ji So was forced into marriage.

Early Native Inhabitants 

Every day, I whisper to those seeking

the smell of earth tea,

our stories.

Grandfather is sleeping now,

with squirrels

burrowing his brains, so I try not to wake him.

Every day, we are shaped

By sun, the breath rolling along the ground, the water

descending and ascending.

Every child we produce knows they must reach

higher, extending their fingers to receive the sun.

“Grandfather, the wind told

me a story about a grove of elders

and fire and stars.

The rootless worshipped us!

Now, no one sees us anymore.


His grey beard tickled my arms

in the breeze.

“Little Sturdy One,

I remember when they would

climb up my shoulders and look

for the sun as we do every day.

Now they plug their ears,

run past and never notice

our colors change, the crystals we wear

around our fingers when it is cold.

They ignore us or worse,

chase out our families with sharp

machines and the wind

can only remember so many


of our ancestors.

The wind sometimes drops

them in the ocean

or they get stuck in deep caves

under mountains.”

He sighed and one

of his arms cracked, so loud

it scared away all the birds

eating in his yard.

“What should we do, Grandfather?

How do we get them to look

up and remember us again?”

He was so old.

He had scars from battles with beasts

and tough, wrinkled skin all over

his body from always reaching

for the light, even during


One of his arms had been burnt off

by lightning before I was born.

My mother told me

he still stretched for the sun

every morning with the rest

of his limbs.

“While you can still bend and not fear

breaking your fingers in old age

as I do,


what the wind tells you, tell it 

over and over.

I have seen some of the rootless

stop and listen when the wind blows,

or when it rains.

When you are big enough,

shelter them, tell them our stories,

reach deep below into the heart

of our land and feel the pulse

and pull of every living thing.

When the rootless touch us, old magic

is practiced.”

He fell to sleeping again,

an owl perched on his shoulder.

I will not forget, Grandfather.

I have my own stories to tell

of how the moon

was trapped in my mother’s hair

and I witnessed the death

of an egg-eating snake

at my feet

by a crow.

new moon children

(sun and moon in the same sign)

aries sun&moon: a lit fuse stuck in glittering brain matter

taurus sun&moon: purple silk wrapped around elk horns

gemini sun&moon: rapid-fire parchment bullets stained with ink

cancer sun&moon: a spiny turtle shell filled with marshmallow fluff

leo sun&moon: pearly sunflowers growing in a school play yard

virgo sun&moon: brittle vines pulsing to the beat of a grandfather clock

libra sun&moon: a sleek see-saw juggling dark matter & gold nuggets

scorpio sun&moon: obsidian icepicks stuck in blood-stained ice

sagittarius sun&moon: worn steel swords engraved in dead languages

capricorn sun&moon: a mirrored world on the shoulders of atlas

aquarius sun&moon: static electricity fused in chameleons and eagles

pisces sun&moon: pawprints in the sand during a hurricane

Last weekend my cousin and I went to an outdoor mall,
and many women there had already started embracing the sun
with their tanned and glistening thighs and chests
and she said to me, “Your skin is so pale, why don’t you tan?”
and I stumbled over my words a little bit but I was angry that she would ask me that
as if something was wrong with me.

The same goes for every time a person says, “Why don’t you lose weight?”
or “Why don’t you dye your hair lighter?”
because my hair is the leather cut from Indian winters
and I like its crisp texture and blue-black color and the likeness it has of my mother,
and my weight reminds me that I used to weigh 80lbs at 16 years old
and now I’m just normal, and god, normal has never looked more beautiful to me today than it ever has,

so how dare you tell me who I am isn’t good enough?

So what, you say that woman’s skin is too dark. Her skin runs with the tears and love
of her mother, it’s been kneaded
and bruised by too many
and you don’t need to be someone else to try and break it.

So what, she’s a little heavier than you, you weren’t there when
her boyfriend beat her for not losing weight fast enough,
weren’t there for all the nights she drank to get that beer belly,
to forget his fists the next day.

So what, he has a scar on his cheek,
you’re too busy criticizing to see the weight in his eyes,
too dead to see that he is a survivor.

So what her teeth are crooked,
you’re trying so hard to get away
from her smile that you’ll never get to feel the warmth of it.

So what, there is a birthmark on his face,
if you took the time, you’d realize it was a continent on a world
that you never bothered to explore
and instead you just became another person to discredit his humanity,
another bully on the playground to try to make the rest of his face black.

So what, so what, so what you don’t like the way they look.

A person is not yours to bend to your liking, they are flesh and blood,
not clay,

and the sooner you realize that people aren’t born for your comfort

the sooner you’ll know how beautiful acceptance feels

because you will start to accept yourself, too.

Do you look at the stars and say, “Oh that one isn’t pretty enough for me, I think I won’t look at it tonight?”

We are all apart of this universe. We are the passions and pain and last breaths of our ancestors.

There are galaxies in your DNA, the shaking hands of your great great grandfather
reaching for the sun in a field, his skin the pinks and oranges of a sunset,
the day your father saw your mother in a coffee shop with no name,
the color of your grandmother’s hair in your own,

it’s all different and unique and it all lives inside your body that everyone tries to change,
and it’s beautiful.

We are infinite and mysterious and unknown.

We have a right to be here as much as the stars.

No one questions their beauty, so why the hell should they question yours?

—  Galaxies || Scarlette La Vaillante

True Power

There is much confusion by many on what power truly is. Remember the words that I am going to speak to you, and teach them to the next generation.

Many believe that power can be bought, sold, or traded. Many believe that being powerful is to be the strongest in number, or the greatest warrior. Some believe that being powerful is being the leader of others, or to have influence over others wills and beliefs.

True power is all around us, yet many do not recognize, or honor it. Power is held within the brilliance of grandfather sun, whose light shines endlessly. Power is within grandmother moon who influences the cycles of the ocean, all females, and the fertility of mother earth. It is the whispering mystery of a gentle breeze. The crashing sounds of the thunder beings as they create rain. It is the remembering and honoring of all our relations, and walking the red road.

True power is the heartbeat that connects all of us on mother earth past, present, and future. It is found in our prayers, visions, and in the dreamtime. These are the true powers that many men choose not to speak of.


Dropped flowers off the my grandparents,
My grandfather gave me his sun hat (love it)
Found one of my childhood Ernie’s while there
Picked up some rubbish on my way
Offered a lift by a random man for the last leg
Got a beer and hang out with friends
Came home and annoyed my cat

6 hours and 16Km laters.

О горячем чае

А когда-то, чтобы чай был не таким горячим, его переливали из чашки в чашку или наливали в блюдечко, чтобы быстрее остыл. А он так долго не остывал; и стуча ложкой по стенкам чашки и насыпая побольше печенья и конфет, наши бабушки и дедушки всегда рассказывали истории, спрашивали как наши дела и все было так размеренно и спокойно, как будто времени были полные карманы. А может, так и было? Может быть, дети еще не успели поссориться со стариком Временем, и он давал намного больше, чем достается нам в настоящем. Когда день был таким длинным и солнечным, и крутить педали навстречу ветру было радостью, прибегать домой пообедать и снова гулять, искать приключения и новых друзей.  Когда зеленые листья были единой валютой, а кусты и покосившиеся заборы – сказочными замками. Когда каждая палка становилась мечом, а крышка от бочки – щитом. Когда драконы летали по небу, когда магия искрила из наших сердец. Время радовалось и замедляло ход. А сейчас, вряд ли ему интересно смотреть на то, как мы тратим его свободные минуты, зависая в телефонах и не зная чем себя занять. Заключить бы новый контракт со Временем и дать ему обещаний не тратить его впустую и жить каждой минутой.