The Moon
As I rise, 
From how I rose before
My majesty - once revered 
Now obscured by artificial lights. 
Agua (Water)
Water is pure, 
The matrix from which all life on earth takes its being - 
                                                                 Vibrating  tidal trances 
                                                                                     The continuous dance,  of all that is truth 
Life . 
Sun & Moon
Guaracy & Jacy

He, Guaracy,  fell enamored by the silver hue she brought to the contrast of his Golden Light;
To the different essences her light accentuated, and the different meanings, her, - Jacy, brought to the Kingdom of her Night. 
But Day and Night are never meant to meet; - as whenever Guaracy tried to open his eyes, and gaze at her splendor; - Jacy would vanish, obscured 
by his blinding need
Guaracy,  wanted to show his love, - show how beautiful his golden light was on the same plane, - she,  at night, - lit, 
So Guaracy created Rudá, - LOVE, to be his messenger through light and darkness, & as Day turned to Night and Night turned to Day; - 
Rudá, LOVE, continues to balance the sadness that comes from the Sun, - Guaracy, - not meeting Jacy, in one beautiful darkness of day.  
Over time, saddened by the loneliness, Her, Jacy - at night in darkness faced; - tried fervently kissing her,  at the cusps of their blending gaze. 
Jacy, no innocent in this forbidden chime, tried crescently luring him to the cusps of her sensuous rise. 
But Nature can’t append it; - can’t allow such pursuit to be. 
For Life comes from the Balance of their inherently opposing weaves .  
Overtime - weary of the ravage his desire for her weeped; 
Guaracy- Saw the dancing of small ambers, to accompany the darkness - she, so elegantly seamed. 
They understood, through Rudá, - LOVE, that their respective lights were meant to nurture, - at opposing times - the essence of life, that 
blossomed Terra, both day in and night out.

* this is my own interpretation of the Tupí Guaraní myth of Jacy and Guaracy *
Mother Moon
I, Jacy,  am not only feminine, and you, Guaracy, are not only masculine, - 
am both; -  
you are both; 
am as much as you are 
the representation of such energies
 – an omnipresent balance that constantly shifts, 
                                                 and evolves.   

Often, I come to land, under the guise of my silver kingdom,
Camouflaged as masculine, -
 In your corporeal guise
As my figure; - Woman. 
Would result too distracting 
For your innocent human eyes.
From my hair -  weaved from light seams,
To my lips, - plum like the fullness of my moon
I come as your equal, - under the solstice of my crescent Moon. 
I come to nourish soils planted 
Under my tender and nurturing guise  
As my priestesses are my Planters 
They know my dance so very true 
                                                                                    to the rhythms 
of my shifting Moon  
Quietly Mellow 
Shadows Seemingly Swimming
Above The Headstone
Segredo (Portuguese)
O amor é um segredo 
Que nos deixa ileso 
Ao medo de desvenda-lo 
You and I 
Sometimes in the silence of night 
I let my mind wander 
Towards the energy of us. 

Invasively intimate, -   
yet sorrowfully healing.

That is what You have become
in the context of  I.
Mutable Affirmation
Like water 
I am.

 By tides 
And currents
I sway​​​​​​​

Like a fish
That shan't be preyed. 

I'll adapt and let go 
of all that 
does not belong
to me. 
Sometimes two winds collide
Alluringly sucking 
Winds to its center
Forcefully pleasing, - 
Such pull will be. 

So heed my warning,
 My Dearest breeze

For the tempest 
Of storms
Takes only one 
Ill fated wind

Nefariously concealing 
Wickedness for attraction. 
Pleasure Impulses
Why do I keep doing this to myself? 
Do I enjoy getting cut? 

Do I gain pleasure 
from such perversive intrusion? 

Have I not learned the true colors of men? 

Their' urges and impulses 
are immutable my darling. 

Do not mix your story 
with theirs'. 

your own success .

your own prophecy.

Do not dare 
let your heart 
become filled 
with darkened 

For this ailment 
that plagues all men, 
Does not belong 
in the essence of 
the Divine Feminine 
such as yourself
Petals once vivaciously full 
Withered by unwatered intentions  
An echo of a life, once brightly lived.
Emotional intelligence 
is merely Reflection 
of choices made 
& mentalities carried 
in moments 
bathed in chaos.
Light & Darkness

I have come to realize 
How life is more than the contrast of light and dark.
Often times we forget to gaze upon the details in such contrast; 
How everyday we are made to experience LIFE
An intricately composed web of varying bright and dark shades. 
Inherently divine in its balanced composition.

Everyday we paint in its’ missing pieces
balancing always darkness with light 
For without its balance 
there'd lack strength of confidence
 to dive head first in moments bathed in light. 

As days pass 
Seem brighter.

The wind 
Once piercing, 

How reality 

My spirit 
Latched free
From the chains 
Of your torment. 
As a Women is Sought a Girl is Found

You are at that restless and doubtful age
Like a day that seems to be unsure 
If to bring the shine from Sun or that of the Moon 

Pairing a short butt height dress 
With a make belief princess 
stamped on her bag 
A bit of a child, 
And a bit of a lady.

Sometimes foolish, 
Other times modest 
Perfecting the marriage 
Of madness and sanity.

With childish traits 
And women gestures 
Studying catechism 
And streaming Porn 

A girl that is no more a child, 
As she is a lady
A girl that thinks she knows 
Yet has a lot to learn 

From touching the throbs 
Emanating from her growing breasts
To lying with a moving pillow 
In between her legs.

She is adorable 
As she is divine 
An enigma which will flourish 
Evermore through time.
O Que é a Vida? (Portuguese)
O que é a vida sem a busca eterna do Amor? 
A caça aquela sensação única mas não solitária,  
O toque e a intenção detrás de cada gesto, 
cada beijo,
toque; - 
cada suspiro confessionário cantado ao seu ouvido.

O lamento é que em essa busca, 
o coração se molda, - 
perdendo a faísca daquela sensação divina 
que era, -  te Amar 

Aquela pureza do olhar 
com cada ferida, 
com cada promessa não cumprida, 
com cada dia que você escolheu 
não fazer-me sentir vista. 

 Contigo meu coração foi forçado a se curar; 
Forçada a se fechar com agulhas enferrujadas
e fios sanguentados. 

Eu aprendí que Amar 
é aprender a ser feliz com a solidão.

A Poem for my Brother 

My dear brother,
If you're reading this
You survived 
The years of billowing silence 
Imposed by the negative forces
floating around your bedside

From torn out broken shadows 
That awaken with the moon
To the chirping of black crows
Outside of your bedroom

To the white blankets now frosted 
Dangling idly near your fence 
To your amber stricken window 
That has never opened vent 

To the once brightly lit ambers
That danced within your eyes 
naively gave entry to torment 
Who took refuge in your mind

From wounds to scars 
Perceived by others as self inflicted 
Are in truth remnants 
Of the continuous war 
Between weakness and perseverance

The wounds of torment 
Now etched in your gaze,
Are the result of the chains 
Torment brought with it 
To block the exit of your mental maze

It is not your fault 
That you no longer see
The beauty that lives 
within your very being 

It is not your fault 
You found solace in fiction
And it is not your fault 
Torment chose you as its victim

But it is my fault 
To not have noticed torment within you
And it is my fault 
As a sister,
To not have guided you
Through the beauty
That is non-fiction 

My beautiful, smart, caring brother 
I am so sorry that you’ve forgotten 
The life one can live 
When ones’ mind, 
Free of Torment, 
is conditioned to not only breathe, 
But LIVE  

Escrito 13.05.2021

It is a shame 
How in a world filled 
With information 
And connection

Built around centuries 
Of words and expressions
still find excuses for war.

It is a shame
How gender 
Is still being censored
How nakedness 
Fuels the capitalist agenda
Of diet pills 
And zero sized 

It is a shame
How young girls 
Believe their bodies are not to be accepted
How their beauty is not something to be cherished
But rather cleansed and perfected

It is a shame   
How boys believe their manliness
is based on their emotional 
Spurring a generation
That believes 
Anger is better 
Than acceptance

It is a shame
How our intelligence
Is based on our capacity to vanquish
our personal agendas
As we are made to compete with neural networks
That work faster than our own

It is a shame
that we still live in a world
That has systematically placed people in boxes
where privacy 
has become the enemy of profit 

It is a shame 
that so much shame can be found
in a world that was dealt all the right cards 
to thrive.
The Great Mother 

At First - there was Nothing. 

Darkness bathed all Time and Space. 

I, - Yebá Bëló 
Weaved myself 
out of Darkened Silence 
Echoing rhythmic vibrations
From the tides of my weight. 

My limbs, - weaved from light seams
Spawned bringing chaos 
From Stars 
To Planets 
& Swarms of them
E N T W I N E D 

My Limbs 
Like veins engulfed with creation 
Saw Life 
Before it's tides. 

Ask me how I did it 
How I brought all of this - to be; 

You see my child
I, was merely the ODD one
in a very EVEN sea 

I am me, 
As you are you, 
An eternally woven blanket 
of infinitely connected hues 

So live in your essence 
Knowing your are not alone
As I inhabit every atom 
Of your physically conscious home 

And if my Presence within you 
Still leaves you seeking more 
Look up to my children 
Who light, both dusk till dawn. 
Etching Memory 
Look at those shut eyes 
Look how at peace they seem 
Look at those wrinkled hands
Look how restful they appear to be
Look at those pale lips 
Look and remember how they once were 
Look at her resting head and
Look to remember her once olive tone 
Look and please don’t dare forget
Look to remember, 
for remembering is the only 
look at her you’ll ever again get .​​​​​​​
Mistaken I was when I thought our love to be true 
Mistaken I was when I chose to hide my truths from all minus you 
Mistaken I was to trust you completely 
Mistaken to be mistaken that I was yours truly and freely 
Mistaken I was to ignore your negative comments 
Mistaken I now know I was 
But when one feels love cannot be mistaken 
Then the more mistaken in love one becomes.
Broken Rose ​​​​​​​
If you're reading this, -  you survived 
The months of billowing silence
Imposed by the negative forces
Floating around your bedside 

From torn out broken shadows
That awaken with the moon 
To the chirping of black crows 
Outside on your harpoon 

From frosted bath towels 
To your amber stricken pans 
Torment lives within the faces 
Of this god forsaken den 

If you’re reading this 
Then you survived 
The broken fragments brought 
By this partitioned abyss of time
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