Rivers of Ecstasy


http://www.thaliatook.com/AMGG/oshun.php

OSHUN

Ibeyi – River

https://youtu.be/lHRAPIwsS5I

Afro-Caribbean Religions | The Digital Caribbean digitalcaribbean.commons.gc.cuny.edu
Afro-Caribbean Religions | The Digital Caribbean
digitalcaribbean.commons.gc.cuny.edu

Oh Great Goddess Oshun Let Me Come to Your Waters that You May Wash My Soul.

Capture me in Your Ecstasies!  Wash over Me washing away the filth of modern life, Corporate America, capitalism, greed, anxiety and pain. Flow through me Queen of the Rivers with your cleansing floods. Casting off shadows I dive deep into your essence. Through the sweetest of baptisms I am made whole.  I hear the voices of my ancestors calling me. Calling me back home.

My mind touches the picture. Spirit possess me. Visions reach across centuries and your mind is at one with mine. I feel your emotions. Your fears. Your voice crying out across time. Ancestral spirits rise up from seas, oceans, rivers crossing the veil to those still earthbound crying, “Hear Our Voices! Be Our Conduit to the Future!”  Orisha speak through me! Orisha Speak through me!

Middle Passage and Trail of Tears join forces!  Come forth with Power and Grace!

I eagerly await your knowledge, wisdom and energies O’ Goddess of Creativity!

Female Ancestor from my Dad's side, Name lost to Time
Ancestor known only to God.

Ibeyi – River (RLR Remix)

Oshun « Brandon Valery brandonvalery.com
Oshun « Brandon Valery
brandonvalery.com

The Workers Leave No Footprints


Dreams Never Die

Misty Foggy Morn

Youth said “Dreams Never Die.” Twenty years passed then Recession kicked in. New Realities were born. Twelve hour workdays became the norm.

Like a drowning man Dreams surfaced again and again only to plummet down to the watery deep. All the while knocking at 1% door watching them through one-sided window laugh, play, drink and party with no thought for the ‘Morrow’. We the unseen only imagining free time for our dreams.

Dreams that must wait until Social Security beckons if death does not reach us first. Fore bread, water, warm clothes and a place to live cry louder. Goodnight Sweet Dreams. May you one day resurrect to a New Dawn.

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The Working Poor Leave No Footprints

Surrounded by a plethora of people who seemed to surface like bloated corpses after spring thaw.  Worker bees we are all meaningless specks of dust being recklessly scattered by blustery winds.  Modern day Robber Barons throw battle weary soldiers back into the battle while they sit sipping tea in Ivory Towers.  Thirty-seven years a professional, now placating rot breath Sabbath suits long in tooth, visions of Mammy dancing in their heads.  Limestone Liver spotted wrinkled bone bags befoul the air with endless demands.  Dontcha know Miz Daisy learned to drive herself and the Help all went to the French Rivera.

Foggy Misty Morn

I am Hagar cast out of my prosperous household, denied by the Master and Mistress I once served.  Thrown out of my protectors’ house my Dream-child and I await Our Avenging Angel of Salvation.

My Dreams now dead buried under work obligations, mountains of rules and regulations that I seem to constantly violate just by being. No miracles exist for me. Only years of mindless drudgery ahead.  Millennial Overseers govern my every move with their remote control mind games.  Freedom lies dormant within my imagination.  My brain has been put out to pasture because intelligence is not needed or wanted and creativity has become a sin.  Automaton Me clad in nondescript dull uniform easily replaceable by the next set of hungry hands yearning for the pence dispensed from the rich mans table.  Hey!! Who’s next up on the Auction Block?!!  Come lock step into the Plantation Mausoleum filled with objects which are valued more than drones who guard them.  We be Aliens in our own Land.  Serfs never reaping a hard earned Harvest.

Yet soon a New Day will Dawn, Dreams will bear fruit and Visions be reborn.