Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
El agua se desborda,  las cosas estan mas cerca de lo que suelen aparentar.

Waves Crashing Against Giant Glass Windows
The waters washing away the lies
Nobody lies to Yemaya
Nobody lies to Yemaya

We sit so peacefully while chaos strikes
Some of us in shock while others run
Nobody lies to Yemaya
Nobody lies to Yemaya

Los barcos de guerra se preparan en el mar
La luna misma ya no quiere brillar
Dicen los viejos que es tiempo de cambiar
Porque al final nadie le miente a Yemaya.
Jaymisun Kearney Jan 2014
What a great unhappy waste
of muscle mass and jawline
Impetus in a mess
is what begs question of these confines
If things were not coming apart
in the ways we all saw under the surface
would our brave little boy
have robbed himself of his life toward purpose
as misguided as this?

Twenty three years staring into mirrors
with two **** brown globes of lightning
filling up with self deprecation
is a waste?

Somehow I knew you'd say that
and the news wrapped in words wrapped in plastic
glances like the spear tip to plate armor
aimed and stabbed from a distance too great

Colored nails, black or pink, or **** and gnarled
Painted face, totally, or face too **** and concave
Chest heaving open or covered from the world
Downtown or eating cereal in sweats from a mixing
bowl

On your couch

Be the bullet for all of us who took one
Be the blade for those whose voices drained by knife
And be the voice just by living
Even if hidden,
My Love,
You're real!
I may not have come clean if it weren't for Laura Jane Grace. Congratulations on a new album. This is my dedication to our siblings.
birdy Jun 2022
To Yemaya,

Am I enough?
I've given you everything
I've hollowed myself out I have nothing left to give
my new shell is delicate and fragile
yet you do not handle it with care
Do you not have love for me at all?

From Yemaya,
February 2021
ZainaMusic Aug 2015
Say baby, can I be your slave?
I've got to admit girl, your the **** girl
And I am digging you like a grave

Now do they call you daughter to the Spinning Pulsar
Or maybe Queen of 10,000 Moons, Sister to the distant yet
Rising star

Is your name Yemaya? Oh hell nah, it's got to be Oshun

Ooh is that a smile me put on your face child?
Wide as a field of jasmine and clover

Talk that talk honey, walk that walk money
High on legs that'll spite Jehovah
****, who am I
It's not important
But they call me brother to the night
And right now I am the blues in your left thigh
Trying to become the funk in your right

Who am I? 'll be whoever you say
But right now I'm the sight ***** hunter
Blindly pursuing you as my prey

And I just want to give you injections of
Sublime erections and get you to dance to my rhythm
Make you dream archtypes
Of black angels in flight
Upon wings of distorted, contorted metaphoric ****

Come on slim, **** your man, I ain't worried about him

It's you who I want to step to my scene
Cause rather than deal with the fallacy
Of this dry *** reality
I'd rather dance and romance your sweet *** in a *******

Who am I, well they all call me
Brother to the night and right now I am
The blues in your left thigh, trying to be the funk in your right
Is that alright?

by: Larenz Tate
birdy Jun 2022
Dear stranger,

when I was crying on a park bench in the rain, why did you offer out an umbrella? Every other stranger had rushed away as if tears were contagious, but you welcomed mine. Why did you go a step further to ask what's wrong? When not even those I know care to ask. We sat there in the rain until my words stopped and the clouds cleared. Why did you reach for my hand when I left? Are you too in need of a listening ear? I have known you for hours yet I feel with you I am safe, you have a stability about you, like a strong shape. Yet a roundness as well, a softness. If I believed in instant love, you would be mine.

With love,
the person crying on the park bench,
Yemaya
Jeff Raheb Aug 2014
Havana, I arrive
in the sweaty thickness of July
caliente y picante
steamy sidewalks, steamy women
chocolate brown, tan and
black against the lemon-yellow walls
strolling through La Plaza de Armas
slurping thick café through weathered lips
in La Plaza de Francisco de Asis
dancing on the pregnant gray stones in La Plaza Vieja
timba, rumba, salsa and son
Cristo, Maria, Yemaya and Obatalá

Havana, I arrive
in the intoxication of your breath
between the acrid fumes
of insecticides and 1957 Chevy's
stepping past the dark grime of your slums
streets plush with tight round bodies
beautiful and sensuously swaying

I arrive snaking past the converted palaces
con las turistas ricos
and the buy-me-a-dress-and-a-ring ******
with their enchanting full-tooth smiles
and undulating earthquake-tremor hips
I hear your beat
the machine-gun laughter of your feet
on the hot cobblestones
with the jinateros and street musicians
chants of Santería drifting from pane-less windows

Havana, I smell your heat
under salty faded sheets
smell the long, tobacco-stained nights
with your hips swaying
to the pale drops of ***
spilt from red lips
and the red drops of blood
spilt from your revolutionaries
spilt from the gorging of Machado and Baptista
and 500 years of foreign dominion

In Paseo de Marti
banners of Che Guevara
flapping in the moist tear-laden breeze
Fidel, cigar in hand
tirelessly raging in black and white
on a Russian 1960's TV

Cuba, I can see the green in your eyes
the peeling-paint bedroom dreams and
dirt-poor joy of your richness
laughing out the despair and desperation
dancing out the oppression and the paucity
the aching of your past
the battles of Castillo De Los Tres Santos
of  the revolution
of living
and as I stand on the steps of El Capitolio
looking out at the decaying grandeur
I understand why
I will be back
Egeria Litha Nov 2016
If my sexuality consistently gets used
Against me
Then it becomes my weapon
The wisdom that a man's greatest weakness
Is simultaneously his greatest strength
Becomes realized
Reflected in domesticated animals
We give up our instincts
In an environment where the wild
Doesn't belong
After years of suffering
I grab my wand for the first time
Although lifetimes ago I may have done so
This time matters the most
Because it is happening now
I grab my wand and wave it through the air
the journey to learn how to use my Magick power
Enemies draw closer
Only to get blasted down by light
Aum harnessed from my throat
I will use fire to protect my life
Hovering owls in the night
All according to plan
Magic birds witness
The transpiring of balance
Coming to this planet in need of healing
Divine feminine we are here
Mary Magdelene is near
Absolutely have no fear
Lilith is on the sidelines
Visiting dark beings
In human minds
Kali is by her side
Tongue hanging out
***** for fresh heads in her multiple hands
Yemaya stirs in the ocean
She howls, "Just leave me alone!"
As Bolon Ik traverses time away from her twin flame for longer than she can bear
Exposed in a terrifying way
But men cannot Divert their eyes
As The most beautiful women
Exemplified
Turns some into stone,
Others to salt,
Ashes,
And only the righteous of souls -
Deliverance as The Call To Rise
Se habla de amor a medianoche
Se hacen limpias y amarres
Se llena el sol de miel

Soy un collar de cuentas de coral
Pegado al cuello de una sacerdotisa
Hija de Yemaya

Se llenan papeles de inmigración
Se hacen reembolsos de impuestos
Se distribuyen palabras románticas en las paradas de autobús

Yo soy el hilo que mantiene las cuentas
Pequeñas perlas de jabón, sangre y miel
Tu nombre escrito en pedazos de papel
Kamini Mar 2018
My bare feet walking across the green fields connect deeply with the cool earth, they know the way… this is the path home, this is where I belong. Do you get that feeling about places and about people too, like you’ve met them before or known them all your life?

You ask me ‘where are you from?’. ‘Right here’ I say, knowing that the answer you are waiting for, expecting, is only skin deep. Because what is visible to you, the mask of a distant land, is not my true face, and the question you are afraid to ask is ‘Who are you and where do you really belong?’

When you catch my passing reflection who do you see? Who can you see beneath this earth-toned façade? Can you see my mothers legs walking toward you, my father smile as my grandmother’s eyes search your face and my grandfathers hand reaches out to take yours? Who are you and where do you really belong?

Come, dance with me, your answer is not in my words. My answer is not in your eyes. Let your feet move to the rhythm of my heartbeat, let me feel your ancestors dancing in my DNA. Let our bodies tell their tale for my blood holds the memory my tongue forgot, my sweat the taste of ancient prayers. Who are you and where do you really belong?

Which Mother land gave birth to my soul? Lashmi, Durga, Kali, Saraswati in your womb I dance… with Venus, Isis, Aphrodite, Yemaya, Sekmet, Demeter… ******, mother, crone… who are you? Where do you really belong?

The eternal quest to find the source, ashes to ashes, dust unto dust the earth swallows my dance and I stand still with mud between my toes. For an instant your mask drops and I know who I am and where I really belong….
2006
It’s 2014 and they’re still talking about the feminine mystique
Gurl es que no puedo mas ya
So I am gonna throw some shade
I will pray to Yemaya
To wash them with the 4th wave

— The End —