I am living life the best way I know how. Going with the flow. Its hard sometimes, as debris and obstacles make themselves ever so present. Although I may get dammed up sometimes and tension builds, I know that the current of my hopes and faith keep me going and I just simply have to change my course and flow another way either over and through my obstacles or around them. I am learning more and more to be like the river, I am of the river.
The continuous learning process of life is never ending, and destiny has called me to a tradition that has way too much to learn. I am simply doing my personal best to learn all I can in order to help teach, heal, share, pass on, and preserve. The dangers of the trans Atlantic slave/ Maffa and that oppressive force is still present just in an even more dangerous way. Ignorance and misconceptions surround our very practice and even our minds, to those that are and are not priest. I walk a fine line, thin and narrow road and I have to stay focused and determined to see that my destiny is completed. That I answer the call.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
My poem to my mother
Regal coco Queen
As you sit atop the drum
Rhythmic beats in time with the earths rotation
Reminiscent of the sun
You bring me back with the gyrating swivel in your hips
The taste of sweet honey in the plumpness of your lips
Your voice is power, your essence wise
Mother Afrika adorns you never to be disguised
Proud and Beautiful the river runs deep
Flows from ancestors past to futures dawn
Many ideas, art forms appear as fishes spawn
Responsible for knowledge intuition in its raw
we all praise the mother, for this is what we were birthed for.
Yellow and Gold's as you reflect our joy
Blessed are your children every girl and every boy
Bells ring and resonate in your laughter
As you descend upon us smiling from your heavenly rafters
I ask you to deny me bitterness that I may emulate your ways
That I may be calm, cool, collect and always the right things say
Reflective is your presence as I look deep inside
In your arms, my head to your breast my heart confesses and confides
Grateful to be your vessel and your loving son
Always open to learn and work until my time here is done.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Beauty of my people
I would like to say although a lot of my writings and work tends to focus on my people of color and their traditions ( as I do embrace Africa in all I do) I am pro PEOPLE period. I love people, I love our diversity and similarities. I celebrate it all.
This poem states the weekend's experience I had at a drumming celebrating a rebirth of someone who is now called Iyawo. Someone who went through the same beautiful life changing experience I did last April, Kari Ocha. A drumming celebrating the birth of an Agallu from an Agallu.
I felt you long before I walked into the house
I felt your rhythms and beats long before the sound of your drums reached my ears
Terrestrial and yet heavenly
My body reacts moving and swaying and toes tapping as hands clapped,
these movements and these melodies ancient and long danced by many others who came before me
A space full of beautiful shades of brown, caramels, blacks and tans
I smell elements, I smell power, I smell culture I taste remembrance and savor victory
My people together in once space reconnecting to the Mother we call Africa
Many roots branching out form one sacred tree and we all reach for the sun naturally as we reach for the divine
The plant reaches for the sun as God works through it in the form or photosynthesis
We channel nature unwillingly and yet so naturally involuntary
I see you Sister in your Blue head wrap, garb speaking of your royalty set against the rich tones of your skin. Yemaya proudly in your midst
Beautiful Daughter of Ochun I see your beauty shining as legendary as that of your Divine Mother
Strong Daughter of Oya who can hold you or your wise words back? You flow through us reminding us their is strength to be claimed and honored.
Sons and Daughters of Chango pride and ferocity clear the way as you exemplify sovereignty and Majesty. We originate form Kings and Queens Indeed.
My people beautiful and different like the many creations of that whom we call God or Goddess. Like the many colored fish, birds, and flowers
Gods creations effortlessly wonderful, Beauty of my People
This poem states the weekend's experience I had at a drumming celebrating a rebirth of someone who is now called Iyawo. Someone who went through the same beautiful life changing experience I did last April, Kari Ocha. A drumming celebrating the birth of an Agallu from an Agallu.
I felt you long before I walked into the house
I felt your rhythms and beats long before the sound of your drums reached my ears
Terrestrial and yet heavenly
My body reacts moving and swaying and toes tapping as hands clapped,
these movements and these melodies ancient and long danced by many others who came before me
A space full of beautiful shades of brown, caramels, blacks and tans
I smell elements, I smell power, I smell culture I taste remembrance and savor victory
My people together in once space reconnecting to the Mother we call Africa
Many roots branching out form one sacred tree and we all reach for the sun naturally as we reach for the divine
The plant reaches for the sun as God works through it in the form or photosynthesis
We channel nature unwillingly and yet so naturally involuntary
I see you Sister in your Blue head wrap, garb speaking of your royalty set against the rich tones of your skin. Yemaya proudly in your midst
Beautiful Daughter of Ochun I see your beauty shining as legendary as that of your Divine Mother
Strong Daughter of Oya who can hold you or your wise words back? You flow through us reminding us their is strength to be claimed and honored.
Sons and Daughters of Chango pride and ferocity clear the way as you exemplify sovereignty and Majesty. We originate form Kings and Queens Indeed.
My people beautiful and different like the many creations of that whom we call God or Goddess. Like the many colored fish, birds, and flowers
Gods creations effortlessly wonderful, Beauty of my People
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Experiences
We talked Motherlands, we talked powerful culture rich continent. Afrika the beginning of us all. We find hidden truths and discuss our connections and want for unification and upliftment of ourselves and others. Descendants of kings and queens, shamans and spiritual workers, dancers and hunters.
We eat at the table of Caridad, sharing meals and speaking our hearts content. Sharing our experiences, our past lives, our future goals and hopes.
The tone is set, the way prepared walking on air as if to laugh in the face of gravity, following a trail of rose petals that only we can see.
A home, rich with our peoples culture, wooden mask and drums, red, blacks, reds yellow. Powerful colors that mean so much more to me and him than most. Simple kisses lead to heavy breathing and accelerated heart beats.
Mutual large hands roaming each others body, firm members pressed to each other in an embrace that feels like a perfect melding of the elements. The heat of fire, the rush of air the earth rocking beneath us, the water washing over us in passionate waves. Trying to contain myself, but unwilling to bar the gates to my temple. I open up the gates or should I say I surrender the key. Enter! I call, body language reverberating and echoing an unspoken desire that sets the room a flame. Slipping in and out of worlds, on Polynesian shores, black sandy beaches, fragrant gardens, and refreshing lagoons. I look into the eyes above me, intense stare and genuine want to please and experience... me. I accept you Esus, you accept me Maeve. I feel us moving in rhythm, harsh and meaningful drum beats as our ancestors infuse our bodies. Moving with gyrating hips, performing a dance that is ageless. Barefoot and in touch, dreads falling ever so against my bare chest. Kisses soft, succulent, and masculine driving me wild, driving into me. I call out, names of those who came before me, I call out in tongues I do not recognize. We sleep, we weep. Healed in the process we hold each other and we lie sweat bound letting the feelings subside after the eruption that is orgasm. God was praised this time, Goddess gave birth.
We eat at the table of Caridad, sharing meals and speaking our hearts content. Sharing our experiences, our past lives, our future goals and hopes.
The tone is set, the way prepared walking on air as if to laugh in the face of gravity, following a trail of rose petals that only we can see.
A home, rich with our peoples culture, wooden mask and drums, red, blacks, reds yellow. Powerful colors that mean so much more to me and him than most. Simple kisses lead to heavy breathing and accelerated heart beats.
Mutual large hands roaming each others body, firm members pressed to each other in an embrace that feels like a perfect melding of the elements. The heat of fire, the rush of air the earth rocking beneath us, the water washing over us in passionate waves. Trying to contain myself, but unwilling to bar the gates to my temple. I open up the gates or should I say I surrender the key. Enter! I call, body language reverberating and echoing an unspoken desire that sets the room a flame. Slipping in and out of worlds, on Polynesian shores, black sandy beaches, fragrant gardens, and refreshing lagoons. I look into the eyes above me, intense stare and genuine want to please and experience... me. I accept you Esus, you accept me Maeve. I feel us moving in rhythm, harsh and meaningful drum beats as our ancestors infuse our bodies. Moving with gyrating hips, performing a dance that is ageless. Barefoot and in touch, dreads falling ever so against my bare chest. Kisses soft, succulent, and masculine driving me wild, driving into me. I call out, names of those who came before me, I call out in tongues I do not recognize. We sleep, we weep. Healed in the process we hold each other and we lie sweat bound letting the feelings subside after the eruption that is orgasm. God was praised this time, Goddess gave birth.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Its been a while
So life has completely changed around for me. I have met wonderful people some new some old, its like I am seeing life through brand new eyes. Yes there are still enough trace elements of DAVID but I don't feel the same nor do I identify with the David pre April 2010.
I began to get familiar with my father in my spiritual path. Chango/Shango he who hurls lightning, he who illuminates the darkest of night and shows you things as they are. He who represents the spark of life, the passion to live and experience and enjoy. One cant do that if they don't see things as they are.
Chango has made me face every uncomfortable situation this year I could possibly think of and a few I wouldn't have even attempted to think of. I got to see in his example that a man with ambition, with a knowledge of his self worth can attain a higher place mentally, spiritually and even physically.
I found myself single this year, way more contemplative than ever and through all the traps and not so nice stuff thrown in my way, I am strangely content with life as a whole. I recite and replay Rachelle Ferrell's Satisfied over and over in my head, because I am.
Through sacrifice and the investing into the one person that you have to face the rest of your life, YOU. You can attain a beautiful place in solitude, peace in your spirit and a pep in your step.
Until next time folks... Muah
I began to get familiar with my father in my spiritual path. Chango/Shango he who hurls lightning, he who illuminates the darkest of night and shows you things as they are. He who represents the spark of life, the passion to live and experience and enjoy. One cant do that if they don't see things as they are.
Chango has made me face every uncomfortable situation this year I could possibly think of and a few I wouldn't have even attempted to think of. I got to see in his example that a man with ambition, with a knowledge of his self worth can attain a higher place mentally, spiritually and even physically.
I found myself single this year, way more contemplative than ever and through all the traps and not so nice stuff thrown in my way, I am strangely content with life as a whole. I recite and replay Rachelle Ferrell's Satisfied over and over in my head, because I am.
Through sacrifice and the investing into the one person that you have to face the rest of your life, YOU. You can attain a beautiful place in solitude, peace in your spirit and a pep in your step.
Until next time folks... Muah
Monday, October 11, 2010
Queen Albertina Walker SINGS
There is something that happens when Spirit takes over, it starts with a sound, then a stirring of a particular emotion, and then it is repeated and emphasized unitl those present start feeling the same thing or something... IN the morning @ 3 minutes into this starts just that!!!!! Annointed and late Albertina Walker, may she inspire more to sing like her and turn away from the filth and rubbish of most modern day music.
Monday, July 19, 2010
To the lost family members
I am always astonished at how we can connect to people, as people, to such deep levels. The depths of which no one will understand. High Valley is some secret place between the veils of this world, where you get away and you let go a bit share just in order to partake and receive what comes willingly and more importantly naturally.
T. Dillinger- Oh your weary soles how they do ache. The spurs of your heels, the curve of your toes, the arch of your feet that already know the tough road they walk barefoot. You walk the hard road no one wants to acknowledge, you walked this path many lifetimes before. Of course your feet are tired. Must Angels always fly, when they have to good feet? There mission doesn't change, their gifts do not change they are sent here to do what they do in the only way they know how to do it. Letting God work through them, they are of God why not do the work God sent them to do. Like most jobs they don't have to like it, and they may not even have to get it. They still have to do it. You will walk until your feet are worn until your socks come away at the seams. You will walk until the jagged rocks on that road you walk shed some of your blood, but where those drops stained life, inspiration, encouragement will grow. WHO said your job is for you? Who said your job bright some sense of self satisfaction? It is never that easy. You teach, and you share, and you minister, and you heal, you comfort and you entertain.. and at the end of the day you realized your feet still hurt. No rest comes now, because you walking in your right path. Soon your bare feet will touch the soft grass of the place that calls to you. The land will once again reconnect with you and the vines and leafy foliage will wrap around you in that moment and secure you in place and you will become a still monument. No need to walk or move, your work is done, your journey ended, your feet found home. Rest is your accomplishment, your restitution for the many lives you have touched and the walking you have done in paths others may now dare to walk.
E. Cunnigham/D. Smyth- You tell the stories of countless women who had no voice. The daughter, the mother, the grandmother, the bride.... the whore. You tell the stories of greatness one can achieve through adversity, but most of all Love. You allowed yourself and your husband to feel that which is closest to you to grow in an environment and lush and as green as the woods you live in. You have produced family and community in a world where people seek to find such things. Like minded people are hard to find, open minded people are even harder. They exist though by a creek in an old house where stories are told, 3 large felines stand guard, toast & omelette's are made, coffee and wine bring fellowship like no other. Wisdom comes forth in many conversation's and you realize your work is never done as well, your both still touching people in ways that no price tag, expensive gift or winning lotto ticket could ever attempt. You two become the eternal friend, the eternal parents, the eternal flames. Always bright, always shining, always providing a glimmer of peace and hope in the darkest of moods and times.
T. Dillinger- Oh your weary soles how they do ache. The spurs of your heels, the curve of your toes, the arch of your feet that already know the tough road they walk barefoot. You walk the hard road no one wants to acknowledge, you walked this path many lifetimes before. Of course your feet are tired. Must Angels always fly, when they have to good feet? There mission doesn't change, their gifts do not change they are sent here to do what they do in the only way they know how to do it. Letting God work through them, they are of God why not do the work God sent them to do. Like most jobs they don't have to like it, and they may not even have to get it. They still have to do it. You will walk until your feet are worn until your socks come away at the seams. You will walk until the jagged rocks on that road you walk shed some of your blood, but where those drops stained life, inspiration, encouragement will grow. WHO said your job is for you? Who said your job bright some sense of self satisfaction? It is never that easy. You teach, and you share, and you minister, and you heal, you comfort and you entertain.. and at the end of the day you realized your feet still hurt. No rest comes now, because you walking in your right path. Soon your bare feet will touch the soft grass of the place that calls to you. The land will once again reconnect with you and the vines and leafy foliage will wrap around you in that moment and secure you in place and you will become a still monument. No need to walk or move, your work is done, your journey ended, your feet found home. Rest is your accomplishment, your restitution for the many lives you have touched and the walking you have done in paths others may now dare to walk.
E. Cunnigham/D. Smyth- You tell the stories of countless women who had no voice. The daughter, the mother, the grandmother, the bride.... the whore. You tell the stories of greatness one can achieve through adversity, but most of all Love. You allowed yourself and your husband to feel that which is closest to you to grow in an environment and lush and as green as the woods you live in. You have produced family and community in a world where people seek to find such things. Like minded people are hard to find, open minded people are even harder. They exist though by a creek in an old house where stories are told, 3 large felines stand guard, toast & omelette's are made, coffee and wine bring fellowship like no other. Wisdom comes forth in many conversation's and you realize your work is never done as well, your both still touching people in ways that no price tag, expensive gift or winning lotto ticket could ever attempt. You two become the eternal friend, the eternal parents, the eternal flames. Always bright, always shining, always providing a glimmer of peace and hope in the darkest of moods and times.
Destiny- Where do I start?! Eyes painted and pretty before make up touches them. Eyes that appear to have seen too much, know things most her age do not, she might have observed
and saw past the mundane, the ordinary, and the plain. Words are your closest friends, little fey folk that fly to your person only to have you shape them into magical stories and illusion's. Painting pictured with a voice seasoned with even cool refreshing tones that burst like fire crackers when you belt into your chest. You are a dazzling mirage of dancing gypsies, butterfly flutters, raven and dove wings, Native American spirituality in its flesh healing, ancient and wise a feather and flower in your hair signifying a perfect marriage between earth and air. A smile that aches for one who has had to smile for so long when their eyes were teetering with tears like a levy in a storm. Your mother and father, your grandparents and sibling all rods that were thrown into the fire and beaten, meted, tempered into fine pieces of art. Talents the blood wields, heritage the voices echo, before and past your time all at once.... Nostalgia and expectation of things to come. Your ministry is in your Story telling not too different than one who once multiplied bread and fish for many hungry souls. The world is ready and hungry for what you may multiply and make many. Share your gifts, forever be encouraged.
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