"detangle" poems
Mayan Poetry Translations
The Receiving of the Flower
excerpt from a Mayan love poem
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Let us sing overflowing with joy
as we observe the Receiving of the Flower.
The lovely maidens beam;
their hearts leap in their *******
Why?
Because they will soon yield their virginity to the men they love!
###
The Deflowering
excerpt from a Mayan love poem
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Remove your clothes;
let down your hair;
become as naked as the day you were born—
virgins!
###
Prelude to **********
excerpt from a Mayan love poem
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Lay out your most beautiful clothes,
maidens!
The day of happiness has arrived!
Grab your combs, detangle your hair,
adorn your earlobes with gaudy pendants.
Dress in white as becomes maidens ...
Then go, give your lovers the happiness of your laughter!
And all the village will rejoice with you,
for the day of happiness has arrived!
###
The Flower-Strewn Pool
excerpt from a Mayan love poem
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
You have arrived at last in the woods
where no one can see what you do
at the flower-strewn pool ...
Remove your clothes,
unbraid your hair,
become as you were
when you first arrived here,
virgins, maidens!
These are my modern English translations of ancient Mayan love poems. Native Americans were creating poems and songs in pre-Columbian days; Mayan and Aztec literature may date back to the first millennium BCE. Unfortunately the Spanish conquerors of South America destroyed all but four of the thousands of pre-Columbian books that probably once existed (according to translator Michael Coe). Mayan hieroglyphs remain far from fully understood and dating what remains is difficult. However, the best poetry is timeless and I believe we can know our Mayan brothers and sisters a little better through their poems.—Michael R. Burch
These are my modern English translations of ancient Mayan love poems. Native Americans were creating poems and songs in pre-Columbian days; Mayan and Aztec literature may date back to the first millennium BCE. Unfortunately the Spanish conquerors of South America destroyed all but four of the thousands of pre-Columbian books that probably once existed (according to translator Michael Coe). Mayan hieroglyphs remain far from fully understood and dating what remains is difficult. However, the best poetry is timeless and I believe we can know our Mayan brothers and sisters a little better through their poems.—Michael R. Burch
Keywords/Tags: ancient, Mayan, poetry, translation, translations, love, virginity, *** marriage, joy, happiness, flower, flowers, deflowering, clothes, hair, ****** nakedness
May 5, 2020
May 5, 2020 at 4:54 AM UTC
The experience of a black woman is one that can not be imitated
Although it is not always enough or even always reciprocated
Her heart is full of love, almost bursting out of her chest
And even when it gets tough, the black woman always tries her best
She longs for an equal who shares her level of intellect
Someone to listen to all her problems and attempt to put them in retrospect
The black woman often fears sharing any of her thoughts
For fear of being labeled the angry black woman, which she’s heard lots
Some black men refuse to date a black woman because of her attitude
But thank you to those strong black men that show them so much gratitude
Sometimes the black woman confidently wears her hair natural
The time she takes to detangle each curl is truly admirable
Other times she doubts her beauty as she is surrounded by Eurocentric guidelines
Men gawk at the beauty of those with straight long hair as she stands on the sidelines
Sometimes the black woman adores all of her god given features
But when she sees the women men covet she feels like an ugly creature
The black woman comes in all different sizes, shapes, and color
And instead of black women competing with one another
They must stand together and see the beauty in being black
So that they can truly understand that beauty is not something that they lack
My sisters, all of my black sisters, thank you for making me feel so human
Because no one understands the experience of black woman like a black woman.
Jan 10, 2018
Jan 10, 2018 at 4:10 PM UTC
1. i watched you eradicate the ruby roses from your
skin with razors, you told me they just needed to be set
free, they were just doves in a cage needing freedom.
2. i heard that hibernation lasts only during winter
but it's spring, doesn't the flowers learn to pick up
their spines to the sun and reach for the skies?
3. i'm not sure which part of my heart is revealed to
you, but it must be a revolting sight. my apologies.
4. my heart is 50% happy/ 50% sad like living at the
bottom of the world, where i get night time six months
a year and day time six months a year.
5. this web you've strung me in has me tangled in semi-
impossible knots but i would take all the time in the world
to detangle the vines from you and let you continue growing.
6. the weight of my heavy armory prevented me from swimming
in the sickening waters, so i screamed "forget me not" at you. i'm
not so sure you heard me or if you just ignored my screams.
7. your pianists fingers let me slip through your fingers slowly
like motor oil or pancake syrup, but i'm sure you washed off
the parts of me that stuck onto your fingers.
8. HERE IS YOUR ULTIMATUM: LEAVE OR STAY.
9. survival relies on the fittest, but i'm anything but fit
for helping you survive. let me bandage every scar, even
though you're not going to be the same person afterwards.
10. forever is an overused term, but i will never forget the
side of you that shined the brightest and made the sun jealous.
- kra
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 1:25 AM UTC
i'll never write for you
after this day.
on this day
i dust you from my heart
declutter my rib cage
remove every careless remnant of you
that i kept as sentiment.
after this day
i'll redecorate my brain
with seedlings and lights
and your memory
on my mind's windowsill
will consume me no more.
Aug 16, 2016
Aug 16, 2016 at 8:16 AM UTC
the monitor flickers
occasionally
like flashes of inspiration
or defeat
the keyboard and mouse
remain unmoved
like ruins
my mountain of a PC
lies dormant
awaiting some bubbling of activity
to stir itself awake
taken to typing poetry
on the phone
to detangle myself from
that cage i once called a home
Apr 2, 2019
Apr 2, 2019 at 7:26 PM UTC
Theres a lingering beat in her heart
A beat she’s been able to suppress
Yet an occasional THUMP from the beat never likes to digress
Theres a tight knot in her heart
A knot she’s been able to detangle
Yet sometimes that tight knot still likes strangle
Theres a shallow stone in her heart
A stone she’s been able to dismiss
Yet when mixed with envy, the stone likes to reminisce
There’s a person in her heart
A person she tried forget...
Yet despite what happen, its the one person she'll never regret.
Jan 23, 2011
Jan 23, 2011 at 4:59 PM UTC
Have you ever had so much to say, but no way to say it?
Every answer you've sought to find is true and tried but still,
to no avail, you're tongue tied.
Like the words behind your lips are in knots
and they're not as simple to detangle as earbuds,
(ha, what a laugh, even that is like rocket science)
Do you see the point I'm making?
It's like your own thoughts are encrypted
and you're forced to try and crack the code.
Like you've just self medicated with poison, and now,
you're trying to create the antidote
with shaky hands and eyes blinded by confusion.
It's like walking down the street with your shoelaces tied together
or sitting on a not so metaphorical bed of nails
Difficult, to say the least,
hell, even painstaking,
to want to scream every word at the top of your lungs,
but have no words to produce.
betrayed by your vocal chords, you're left mute,
and feeling stupid.
To have such a valid point but no way to make yourself understood,
It's like putting together a puzzle without finding the corners first.
Do you ever have something to say, but no way to say it? because I sure as hell do.
May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 at 10:24 PM UTC
I need time to detangle this web of tears,
trapped in turmoil,
entrapped in confusion,
I am a maze runner in solitude,
watching flowers bloom on the other side of the fence,
I see nothing,
but the gravel that binds me within soil,
reaching through cracks I strive,
to see skies of blue
Sep 20, 2017
Sep 20, 2017 at 2:08 PM UTC
liquid gold falls upon your face
highlighting your lips’ quivering with concentration
i wonder are they as soft as i’ve imagined
as i melt into you, unassuming
my smile widens and my stomach knots
like my skeins of wool
that i never cut loose
i too shall detangle
and remain whole
with time
Jun 8, 2022
Jun 8, 2022 at 1:43 PM UTC
Cigarettes in bed
Seem to help me
Clear my head
As I lie
And detangle my thoughts
In the candlelight
I don't seem to know a lot
But at least I can admit it
I just want to see the world
And explore the things within it
My mind it runs
Like a river down a mountainside
Atoms and matter they collide
Sometimes too much for me to bear
Would you understand
If I told you I need to get away?
If I said I need to leave this place
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 3:31 AM UTC
Say you'll save me from myself
From the monster living inside of me
Say you love me as well,
Say you'll help me be
The best of me you've always wanted to see
Say you'll detangle my fears
Hold me tight, let me know you'll be here
Carrying my heart in yours
Taking care of my soul like it's your own
Look into my eyes and just assure me
That everything's gonna be alright like you've always said it would be
Let me wrap myself up in you
So that i can rest my head in my usual nest
Listening to the greatest symphony coming from your chest
The sound of your generous heartbeats
Keeping me company while your protective arms surround me
like an army
Let's just stop time and have our own little silent party
We'll dance to the beat of our united joyful hearts
While you spin me around singing "we'll never be apart"
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 6:17 PM UTC
Air comes out of her mouth in short, loud breaths.
Her palms are sweaty
Anticipation is in her eyes, as her mom reads the pages
The pages that were never meant for anybody to see,
But after writing them she realized that they had to be shown.
Because words are meant to be heard, read and said. Not just written.
If she had know, the pen would never had touched the paper
Now she brushes her hair behind her ear, as her mom finishes the last line with a heavy sigh.
"I don't understand," her mom says, and she realizes that they'll never understand.
That her kryptic codes are for her only to detangle, and all they'll ever do is guess.
All they'll ever do is worry, because what if something's wrong?
And something is wrong. Plenty of things are wrong, but not they things they have in mind.
Because they'll never understand.
So I just keep on fighting to be heard, with the pen as my greatest weapon, because I'm tired of this ****
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 6:16 PM UTC
when it lights up, and it isn't you...
and it's not. and it won't be.
I strain through the cloudy ether-
struggling to translate those fragmented strands,
crystalize them into some sense
but the swirls, and the void-
it's impossible to detangle
I see the shining pillar through the mist
but the fog around it-
is that your doubt, or is that the ultimate truth?
why did...?
maybe it's time I stopped...
tilting at windmills.
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 11:17 AM UTC
Walking barefoot head swaying
To the music that the moon plays
only for me on nights like these
My hair scraping the very shoulders
That stand proudly arched back
Under dark windy skies
But otherwise stoop with the sun's weight
I could say that I am tangled
Or maybe I toy around with the idea
of being a mess, One who's knots you'll lovingly detangle
With your calloused inked fingers.
I dream with open eyes
And surround myself with longing sighs
I'd rather experience you as a pain
Than not remember you at all
That's what these nights do to me
They Take my movements and turn them into a ballad
If only daytime was as light
Nov 29, 2016
Nov 29, 2016 at 5:28 PM UTC
I haven’t heard from you for a while.
Seems like our relationship has just disappeared into thin air,
And you don’t even care.
We had a blooming friendship that was intertwined with love,
But like a needle taken to a balloon, our little bubble of joy bursted as reality barged in and tore us apart.
It would have never worked between us anyways.
I didn’t know what I wanted, but all I needed was a friend.
You wanted more, or nothing.
I barely knew you yet I lay here staring at the ceiling thinking of your hands.
You pop into my mind at the most inconvenient times,
And leave me motionless.
When I think of you its like time stops and the only things I can feel are the deep crater in my heart that you filled for a moment and my missing you.
I now lack our long conversations and your early morning texts,
Would it be that bad if those were to exist once more?
I fell for you but not in love.
I fell into the wall of friendship, and it supported me.
You didn’t go crumbling down when I crashed into you.
I valued that but no matter what my feelings, you still wanted more.
Everyone wanted me to have more for you.
I can’t give you anymore.
I have been drained of love.
I am barren and empty.
There will be no more love for me to give as long as my feelings are knotted up like this.
I thought I had you to help me detangle my emotions and figure out how to feel okay again,
But you’ve left me like all the others.
You left that empty crater and the tangled ball of feelings for me to sort out on my own, even though I can’t.
I’ve gone down this road one too many times.
I’m finished with finding someone to help and to compensate for the one I loved.
I give up.
And so I’ll have to find my lost strength and fix myself alone.
But I don’t know if that is even possible,
Because what if I like being broken?
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 2:45 AM UTC
On the phone we’d walk and talk in circles
Repeated conversations
Patterns on my rug worn from our talking
You taught me a life lived right will circle
Memories working out of order
psychic dream senses in waking life,
stitching back together to make a web,
Somethings have more than one context
But the synchronicity will only comes to those in rhythm
To seek out the motion, careful attention must be maintained:
A book will come back twice if it’s supposed to
One mention of it, you might let it slip your mind,
But then will come a coincidence so strong,
you’ll know it was supposed to be read
Without the dedication to trust a great doubt sets in,
the web so carefully spun begins unspooling
tangling into a knot wound so tight
It will leave in it's place a black hole
this is where I titer
between the point of falling in,
or dangling along the lines of the knot
trying to detangle whats left of the web we created
I am dancing around in different directions
hoping we’ll pass again in sync
Oct 24, 2020
Oct 24, 2020 at 10:55 PM UTC
Confess, I have to confess.
Who's on the other side of my confessional?
I've thought wrong, I could've thought another, why can't I control what I think?
Confess it, lay your sin.
If I confess my thought, I fear it'll make it real. It's harmless in my head, it's abstract.
But is it?
Look at who you've hurt, the person you love. But never you, why would you care about you?
You should be perfect. Be your best self.
When my best self is deconstructed, all I am is fear.
So confess it, lay your burdens on another.
Be selfish, lay your irrationality for someone else to detangle.
Your strength is fragile, trust me.
I know you,
I know all of you, your deepest fear, your subconscious.
Trust me, you're all that I am.
So confess, give in.
I'm your religion, I'm your truth.
The truth is,
you're not worth love.
Jul 21, 2020
Jul 21, 2020 at 6:11 AM UTC
in that fuzzy place
between loving
and letting go
reaching for the door
intending to walk out
but refusing to detangle you
from my thoughts
so I stay in the fuzzy place
hoping that someone
pulls me back
/
hoping that someone
opens the door
I haven’t decided
Jan 26, 2021
Jan 26, 2021 at 3:29 PM UTC