The Moon
As I rise,
Changed
From how I rose before
My majesty - once revered
Now obscured by artificial lights.
Water
Water is pure,
Potential
Unformed
The matrix from which all life on earth takes its being -
Water,
Flowing
Ebbing
Vibrating tidal trances
The continuous dance, of all that is truth
- Life .
Sun & Moon
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, -
I am both; - you are both;
I am as much as you are
the representation of such energies
– an omnipresent balance that constantly shifts,
ebbs
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.
I am both; - you are both;
I am as much as you are
the representation of such energies
– an omnipresent balance that constantly shifts,
ebbs
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
Ebbing
constantly
to the rhythms of my shifting
Moon
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
Ebbing
constantly
to the rhythms of my shifting
Moon
The Great Mother
At first, - there was nothing,
Darkness bathed all time and space.
I , - Yeba 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
flourish
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 intricately woven blanket
Of EVEN and ODD hues.
Haiku
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
Be Like water
Bending, adapting, shifting
by tides and currents
guided by Iemanyá.
Like a fish
That can't be preyed.
I'll adapt and let go of all
that does not belong
to me.
Winds
Sometimes two winds collide
Alluringly sucking
winds to its centre
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?
Why do I keep my heart so open, - so vulnerable to attack?
Do I enjoy getting cut?
Do I gain pleasure from such perversive intrusion?
Have I not learned the true colours of men?
Their' urges and impulses are immutable my darling.
Do not mix your story with theirs.
Draw your own success .
Build your own prophecy.
Do not Dare let your heart
become filled with their darkened essence.
For this ailment that plagues all men,
Does not belong in the essence
Of a Divine Feminine
such as yourself
Light & Darkness
I have come to realise
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
of diving head first in moments bathed in light.
Worth
I am stronger than you think
I do not let the shackles brought with you
Keep me imprisoned in the illusion
Of love you created.
For you, - my captor
Do not hold power,
Intelligence
Nor strength,
To keep a woman, - like me
Imprisoned
on false pretences .
Karma
As days pass
Colours seem brighter.
The wind which once pierced, -
softened.
Funny how reality alters
Once 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 only flourish with 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,
cheiro,
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
Perdendo-se
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;
Forçado a se fechar com agulhas enferrujadas
e com 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
Shame
It is a shame
that in a world filled with information and connection
Built around centuries of words and expressions
People still find excuses for war
It is a shame
that women are still being censored
How our nakedness is used
to perpetuate the capitalist agenda
Of diet pills and zero sized mannequins
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 cleansed
and perfected
It is a shame
How young boys believe their manliness
is based on their emotional disconnection
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.
Sunflower
Petals once vivaciously full
Withered by unwatered intentions
Echoing life, once brightly lived.
Untitled
Emotional intelligence
is just a reflection
of choices made & mentalities carried
in moments
bathed in chaos.
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
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