whadmin

“Golden is the feeling you render, in that priceless moment when you just helped someone smile.
*Yemaya Tethra

“To speak words of wisdom and experience, remains insignifant to one who journeys their own path, and must learn for themselves to truly understand. ”
* Yemaya Tethra

“In the absence of excuses and procrastinations, you present accomplishments. ”
* Yemaya Tethra

Tidal waves,
of battled graves,
giving up,
thy soul to take,
time unwell spent,
journey still,
in progress,
time heals,
mends broken,
don’t give in,
to giving up,
my dear friends,
lighten up,
for life is precious,
though hardest times,
test our strength,
for stronger strides,
grasp on,
not to let go,
you’re made for purpose,
walk the shoreline,
crashing waves,
calm again,
no journeys end,
continue on,
live strong,
be brave,
tidal waves,
battling graves,
awaken alive,
now is the time.

Inspiring hope *Yemaya Tethra

Last edited by Yemaya Tethra on January 23, 2012, 3:56 pm

Do you ever think about,

the moments and times,

when what could have been,

has never been,

and the tears fill up your eyes,

just wondering about that night,

a moment it felt right,

and then you walked away,

never to return,

and now you’re thinking back,

to a time in the past,

wondering how you got here,

looking so confused,

memories inside of you,

but there’s nothing you can do.

*Yemaya Tethra

11-03-11

Simply gazing at a black Indian ink ocean
Seeping through the landscape
Drawing rivers and veins
Meandering into arms of eternal destruction
Matchbox cars and houses
Becoming matches
Without the box
Consumed by fire
Human puppets confined
To dire straits of hope
Crouching to reach the mountain
Tops all forecasts
Cracking plaster casts
A spell
On those left behind
Wondering whether it can be broken
By the tea poured
In poetry by
The ceremony’s grandmaster’s
Long lost son.

I said it. I’m a fat black woman.
I take a seat and a half on the bus,
and I’ll smile my best church smile
on a hundred degree day.
Why? Why you think?
My support bra is an oven.
I got polyester riding.
Pretty sure my ankles are swollen
because I can’t feel my feet.
So I’m gonna smile.
I have been known to laugh.
This is all me Baby.
This is just part of who I am.
I’m a fat black woman.
Who is glad she is alive.

Last edited by alicebgone on October 2, 2011, 7:12 am

Taking the chance and closing my eyes to let the warm leather grainy rein be my guide.
Trusting the pony this once in a lifetime you can have what you want birthday present.
Daring to hold my arms out by my side gripping the hard flank with my baby fat legs.
As we race past hearing my mother yell, you be careful child wearing your Sunday dress.
Giving me the tickles so I throw back my head and laugh with it sounding like music.
Turning dizzy just as the pony slows down I open my eyes on the Merry-go-round.

Last edited by alicebgone on October 2, 2011, 7:08 am

Why should I stop dreaming just because I’m older,
Why should I not fly to that far distant realm?
Why should I not think on you, oh friend of my childhood,
neither love you still, who never loved me,
brother without blood, yet unfading memory?
The bridges you’ve burned are but wood only
that any oversized splinter could replace or repair.
Our friendship was forged once from chains of gold
so precious
and oh, so fragile
but the broken remains are still treasure most rare.
Then shall we not laugh, shall we not dance again
when we are all perfect made in that heavenly realm?
Shall we not regale our adventures as we did long before
walking hand in hand through that verdurous glade
in a land without tears,
without the lie of goodbye,
never to fear,
never again to die,
when we become as angels,
or children,
forevermore?

The winds of time blow every way but backwards,
The waves move every grain of sand upon the shore
and return all things anew.
The river in its patient course can wear down
any mighty stone, any mountain
save the memory of you.

I close my eyes, I see your face no more,
Just a stranger turned away from me through the veiled mists
of a shattered history.
The first day I met you, I should have turned ’round,
never loved you, never had to learn
how false a man can be.

Am I a snowdrop in the winter dreaming of a summer rose?
Must I bud in bitter silence wherein only coldness grows?
If I reach my tendrils for the sun, will it scorch my root in vain,
or will I bloom again?

But I was a fledgling bird, alone,
Far from home and broken, so scared and lost,
unsure of how to stand
And every word that from your lips like manna fell
to my starving soul, without question
I ate it from your hands.

Am I a snowdrop in the winter dreaming of a summer rose?
Must I bud in bitter silence wherein only coldness grows?
If I reach my tendrils for the sun, will it scorch my root in vain,
or will I bloom again?

If I had the strength of heart, I’d sail
The farthest reaches of the earth through the raging storm
so I’d never have met you.
And if I had the wings to fly, I’d soar high
in a lofty cloud far above the sea,
and there I’d forget you.

Am I a snowdrop in the winter dreaming of a summer rose?
Must I bud in bitter silence wherein only coldness grows?
If I reach my tendrils for the sun, will it scorch my root in vain,
or will I bloom again?
Or will I bloom again?

Sunday morning light always breaks too soon.
I open my eyes and stretch, but only as a pretense.
We both know I’d rather stay in bed.
Already you’ve been up for hours
And I wonder with a casual sense of dread
Who awoke on your side of the bed –
The angel I so adore, or the shadows that hide within.
Downstairs, I face the bathroom mirror,
Pretending not to know how the little girl
Too naive to heed the warning signs –
Too naive, or stupid, or insecure, or desperate,
So eager to join to the first man kind enough to promise
That she’d never have to return to her father’s house,
Or at least never have to return to his name –
Became the cold, empty shell that greets me now.
You’ve just returned from the kitchen.
I step into the room too carelessly to hear the click
Of the mine trigger before you explode,
The shrapnel of your words darting past my ears,
And I dare not move until I can assess the damage.
From where I stand, I can see the photograph
Hung to hide the evidence of where
Your fist met the wall sometime last year,
And I ponder what will be broken this time –
A laptop, a glass, a stack of dishes, or something more –
Wondering how long I must wait for you to forget
Your need to maintain appearances long enough
To hit me just one more time,
Hoping you’ll be sloppy enough to leave a mark
So I have a reason to leave for good
Instead of just a migraine that lasts for two days.
You settle instead for throwing the cup of hot coffee
You poured for yourself only moments before,
Cooled enough by milk to leave no scalding on my skin.
I say nothing, but the baby screams
And I lean down to pat her on the head,
Too soaked to lift her in my arms and comfort her
Before stepping into the next room to change my clothes,
Noting as I close the door the two places
Where the wood is cracked and broken
From where you forced it open during
My last two attempts to shut you out.
I start to pack, but it is only a gesture.
We both know I can’t afford to leave you,
And there’s no one here to ensure you don’t prevent me.
So I kneel and pray for Monday to arrive instead.
Already I know how the day will go.
The Monday morning alarm never sounds soon enough,
But once it does, I’ll rush off for my eight hours of freedom
Observing throughout the day how normal people interact,
Imagining for even a few moments how it would feel
To somehow belong.
I’ll fantasize about separate checking accounts
And how much of my paycheck I can hide,
About apartments and childcare arrangements
That don’t involve you.
Then driving to your mother’s house to pick up the baby,
I’ll wonder if this is the night I’m brave enough
To divert to a hotel instead.
But invariably I always return to you.
After a day spent in complete solitude,
You’ll be all little boy affection in your loneliness
And I’ll lean in to kiss your cheek,
Too ashamed to admit the best part of my day
Was the time spent planning how to leave you.