Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
A Jung Lim Jun 2020
For someone
it can be a noise

Drum beats
tremble with space
metals split
the bunch of leather beats

A typhoon of disorder

Staying wrapped
in the middle of a striking hurricane
Feeling the sound
shouting to me

My heart beats
It absorbs those beats
It shakes my head
touching my spirit

This music long ago
came from shamans

When the music was
a human ceremony

Mysterious rhythms

What are those numbers
in the elastic organic rhythms?
What are those symbols
of the perception of the world?

Followed long roads
and formed through time
passing from people to people
with their own body rhythms

Their clouds
Their rains
Their thunders
Their earth

Transformed in the
orchestra of percussion

And the story of their nature
descends to me

I hear my ancestors
their messages

I meet them
and now I play

Their and our rhythms
of the Korean percussion
Nadai Dec 2018
If I had known what it would cost
I wouldn’t have tried to cut myself up so much
Wouldn’t have molded myself into the American dream
Looked down at my grandmother’s footprint instead
Formed and deformed
A part of me
I should have held on tighter
To her Dream
Farhan Ahmed Dec 2018
Spent years growing up
In a dilema, holding a cup
Of tea,
Which i shared with a man
Sitting next to me
Endless words to let out
But busy as i scout
My soul, as she lives inside
Gods gifts, my pride
Like horcruxes reside
No! Not from sins
But from wins of He
The gaze locks on the rays
Tempts me to find ways
To my heart; where my old lady
Scolds me being lazy
I smile! memories brought back
As today I walk on this track
You! If you could hear me too
I am a mother now! Mother of two
I may not be able to feel how a women feels when she becomes a mother. But maybe at some point she thinks the same way remembering her own.
PoserPersona Apr 2018
Do you hear that calm, frugal breeze?
The synced patter cadence off the road?
What was once a hunt for your feast
In a time not so long ago

Over the distant horizon,
the rhythm takes your morning run
Within sight is a lonesome deer
Within scent is a stillborne fear

Exalted whispers of the ancestors:
"Exhaust it to death, predators."
Mystic Ink Plus Feb 2018
Even In The Evil
I See

Ancestor's Blood Of Purity.
Genre: Abstract
Clive Blake Jul 2017
Ann Cestor lives alone,
No relatives has she,
So it seems
That she is a root …
Without a tree!
Mama Kamuma dances the old dance steps
She dances the dance of the ancestor gods
and beneath her the Earth's drum beat
a rumble of mountains and rocks
the force of rivers, mudslides, and avalanches
Kamuma dances the Earth Mother dance
Kamuma dances the Earth alive
Previously published in A Deep, Blue Dreaming (Magick Boy's Lost Episodes); poems by -Richard J. Treitner;  Shivastan Publishing.
LJ May 2016
We are the lonely children
Who get lost in the wood
Yet find peace in each other
We are the lonely children

Bonded by our ancestors
To carry the light of the garden
Yet we fell and heard our beats
Bonded by our ancestors

We live in dull ghostly towns
Crowned in the dark alleys
Yet we stomp and the world shakes
We live in full ghostly towns

You play with the cobra fearless
I run in fear , my fate, my dear
Yet you can encase me from danger
You play with the cobra fearless

In the gust of the wind I love you
Take my words as the solid truth
Yet circumstance let us queue
In the gust of the wind I love you
I did a little research work
And you know I'm glad to say
I found out about my history
I typed my name and there it was
A family tree of sorts
With leaves appearing eveywhere
My family and their warts
There were places on the listing
That I had never been
And the names of the all the people
Well, most....I'd never seen
My grandad married seven times
My nanny married four
My mum was not my mother
And my dad...was out the door
The leaves kept showing up there
Beside each and every name
I sat there for eight hours
I was really glad I came
England, Scotland, Middle East
Nevada and Wales Too!
It seemed that all my family
Moved when the rent was due
I had cousins in Zimbabwe
I had cousins in Peru
They were scattered all through Italy
There were some in China too.
I learned things that I never knew
Tales of family and their kids
I  learned of all their countries
And of all the things they did
Four hundred names in all I saw
And each name had a leaf
I didn't know we were that big
It was truly beyond belief
The pictures too were something else
People, places now long gone
There were photos too of Mexico
And my dear old Uncle Juan
Tomorrow, though I  will sit down
And I'll do this all again
But this time I will make **** sure
That I don't forget the "n".
Kenshō Dec 2014
Once upon a time, a long time ago, there were people  who believed in laughter,  joy and love. They believed in many deities,  but the most important to them was their Great Mother Goddess. They believed in and lived with the powers of Nature. They reveled in the Wind,  the Rain, the Snow and the Sunlight. They marveled at and  revered  the changing of the seasons and saw  therein  great excitement  and  wisdom to be gained. They knew  that  if  they
tended,  cared  for  and  loved the Earth,  in return  She  would provide for,  care for and love them.   They saw that all  around them  the  world was filled with Life,  much as their own but  in many  different and wonderful forms.   They felt the life of  the flowers,  plants  and  trees  and respected them  for  that  life essence.   They  looked about and observed all the many types  of animals  and saw that they were kindred to them and  loved  them.  They  felt  and observed the great Love of the Goddess all  about them  and knew kinship with the Moon.   They were practioners  of
The Old Religion, worshipers of The Great Mother!
Something I am reposting - I found it on the web. It is important to me. =)
Next page