Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Raven Feels May 4
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, no offense to photography<3---I don't like someone taking my picture:}

unfair for my ancestors and the great greats of the past before

them faces to stay unknown unrecognized in future evermore

call me stupid call me crazy call me insecure

but my veins fear that shoot to endure

eyes perplexed on captured focus

not understanding that optic motion only-in our century a bonus

mind entering a vacant slash

cameras must be abandoned gone illegal in that flash

Light and smoke
blossoms from the barrel of a gun
as they lay waste
to the only home I have ever known
and stake their claim on this land
where my ancestors toiled under a smoldering sun,
wrinkles on face,
sweat on back,
callouses on hand.

Stolen plunder
rots in gold and marble jars
while I watch my children collapse
from hunger
and my husband hang himself
on that old tree,
watered by the blood
of generations
gasping for air
under the banner of the unfree.

Tonight, I cry out
to Mother, Father, Aunt, Uncle,
since the voices of my children have dried up
and my husband’s body has returned to the earth,
but I stand, an emaciated shell,
nonetheless standing
with one more scream,
one last sob,
another step,
I shall carry this banner until we all become free.
Maya Morales Feb 21
I found myself waiting
for love i already own.
Found myself in every reflection.
No recollection of home.
My heart called my name and this time I recognized.
heavy rains of mother earth
washed away my masks
so i bear no disguise.
ancestors became clearer when i looked inside the mirror
i remember my true beauty
reflecting so pure
i see nothing clearer .
i love myself...
i am love
i am light
i am energy so free and abundant
i am cosmic
i am source
divine creation of masculine and feminine combined
infinite intelligence
wonder and wisdom.
everlasting love, companion to life itself.
"break free, my child"
intuition whispers to me
voice as soft and sweet as sugar cane
no longer a victim of ILLusion and strife
i root myself deep and call back in all my power
so my friend, as you read this, consider it your final hour
what will your bring with you into this new earth?
wake up.
wake up.
wake up.
Maya Morales Feb 21
help me be like a tree
strong and mighty healing energy
let me be like the wind
always there
no beginning or end
guide my soul
as i start again.
sacred womb filled with deep desires
divine flame that lights my fire
guarding, guiding, dodging out the dark
unique individual
creating a spark.
my sacred spider spirit guide
i come to you within the night
weaves webs of hope on my thorn pricked thighs
morning rises
dew drops
drip on my bed
water heals my worried dread
reflections of truth
act as a reminder
to soften my heart and always be kinder
may i always remember
my destiny and who i was made to be
remove my ego and pride
so now i can see,
i am u and u are me

Maya Ixchel Morales
quinn Feb 11
let’s pretend that our ancestors danced in forests and ate flowers
so that we can do the same, without feeling embarrassed,
because, really, we’re just honouring our forebears, their tradition.
the past was apparently full of flower crowns
Lacey Clark Dec 2020
Each time we sneeze
a flower blooms across the sea.
I squash 6 clementine slices into my oatmeal
the tangy juice combined with earthy grains
feels a lot like the sunrise peeking through the kitchen.

The condensation outside the kitchen window
is like citrusy carbonated rainwater.
Waking up is a quick race
to pacify yesterday's absences
or excesses.

The oatmeal creates a gooey padding
As the rather **** juice
waterfalls down my gullet
Splashing into the empty, roaring chamber.

We're making offerings to a candle flame,
Dried elderberry flowers and 2 clementine slices.
Smearing black coffee grains across our cheeks
Ruminating on the care of our foremothers
Ever dwelling in the roots below
Next page