Tuesday, February 07, 2012

poem draft : hearing the call

i'm still working on this one...

see how the ocean waves comes in
quietly retells how we come from
and are called back to it

tears remind us of our watery home,
the concoction of salt, mineral, fluid
where our comfort lies

for many, we are the first generation of women
allowed to be completely free
and with access to that freedom

we birth our ancestors, listen to our ancestor voices
moreso, hear our own calling and realize the voice
behind that call is our own

no longer must we mask ourselves for survival
masquerading to fit

Sunday, February 05, 2012

poem : wedding day

Oya in an aubergine dress
bare shouldered
orange jewels along its seams
flowering belt draping her hips
tied at the back in a taut knot

Oya’s eyes ablaze
something is coming, even on this day, it insists

Oya, always ready for what approaches

Saturday, February 04, 2012

poem : telegram

exile means no place is home
exile means every place has the chance serving as home

Making his way from Habana to Matanzas, Bobo sends a telegram:


Friday, February 03, 2012

poem : dark mother

arms extended
luminous dark
the night sky
markers for those pains
healed into brilliance

humid air surrounding her
radiance of waters
welcoming yemaya

yemaya, mother of fishes,
yemaya, rejoicing in oya

our first and last breath
her arms forming the center of our lives
the hurricane of the world outside

Thursday, February 02, 2012

poem : the call

the sky was born in anticipation of our people

the sky was born for us
fresh creation

I watch birds now, communicating through movement,
look now, a flock making circles in the courtyard,
landing then skittering off again.

across the evening sky, a smaller flock approaching
joining the larger one

one bird, perched in the high trees, calls out

the sky, flaked in orange and purple
the sky, a beacon for our approach.

Wednesday, February 01, 2012

poem : a warning

sometimes it’s bears meandering through the streets
walking up sidewalks, onto porches
breaking the front door

sometimes lightening bugs gathering at the second floor windows
peering in, hoping for conversation

occasionally there are ants along reeds, around puddles of water,
following each other into the house, crawling along baseboards

no matter the animal
multiples of them, seemingly out of place,
mean trouble