Salt

Morning

Two loves on both sides comfort my ill color

In happiness the youth teaches me prayers to send to the Most High

The eyes of my second love are wise, humble, and rare

Does love come from pride

Sun and prayers are being sent up swiftly

The hands of my first love are young, brown, and sweet

The dawn comes, is this where love ends or begins

In the ground where the seed of my second love lives, the soil is warm

My older love, has hair like wool that drinks almond oil

Never ashamed of it’s greed and bears the strength of King David’s wisdom

Admittedly his cheeks are like warmed vanilla

O’ that can make any indulge in the spice

His spirit sickles evil and laughs at the sight of a storm

He is the husbandman that prepares the garden to win my spirit

I suspect that I can examine his character, by his dance for me

It is time to choose, and I can’t live in the doubt of a decision

Both will give me love and despair

Which will give me less ill

It is such a thing that woman grows like the plants in the sun

How she is unknown of the growth, but tempted to grow with one like her, leaving her seed, and always reaching for the belly of her creator

Things to do: Put the herbs outside on the terrace for the shine

They both woo me, enticing my unkempt pride

But being friends to one, and stranger to the other

I suppose one is on the left and the other on the right

Yet time will not offer the exchange of her love for my ignorance

I worship her friend wisdom, but her door remains closed until she tarries no longer

My words search for the ears of God

Let me choose, searching earnestly, the clock is ticking away

Surrounded by time, and listening to her deafening silence

I will learn soon enough, one will remain a friend

If I error, then upon my soil me proved

The sky is lined with shades of grey

Dawn is approaching with effortless sway

Chasing the moon away


Honeybird Kiss No. 9
(Salt: A poeme by Weléla Kindred)
Photo: The Alvin Ailey Dance Theater

am i awake? is mj asleep?

I think listening to sad music can do strange things to me. I will usually listen to the piece over and over again until all I can hear is my inner child's voice, feel my memories and honestly....they have no real coherent meaning.

When I listen to these songs I am overcome with the desire to cry. It's not because of sadness though. More so from...the hypnotic melodies that are being played.

At times I will pinch myself to make sure that I'm real and that I won't fade away, because my mind isn't where it's supposed to be. It's as if I'm the only one who can hear the soft lullaby.

This is really hard for me to grasp, I found out about an hour ago that Michael Jackson died yesterday. No t.v. or radio today, and found out online.

Damn... what a way to find out, that the man who shaped my memories, the taste, touch and smell of the majority of my life is now gone.

Love,
Isolede Feather
1 Feather Whisper

what is rainbow noir wo/manifesto?

Rainbow Noir Danse Projekt

We are a cross - culture pepper pot, ethno-cabaret, robo-tech-aesthetic, devouring everything that crosses our path. Culture, pop life, hip hop, anthropology, film, and mass media.

And honey, when we're done with you, a black rainbow will shine, wrap itself round your shoulders, then rock you to sleep like a lullaby, sung by an old woman, sittin in a rocking chair on her porch. Meanwhile, her babies will collect red clay, ashes, and magnolias for your supper.