The Queen of Kings

If Saturn be The Father then Jupiter be The Mother. We all know what happens when they come together.
The violent ecstatic merger where from chaos emerges order. And what was hidden is brought forth. Now on to the task of cleaning up the remnants and caring for the newly born.

Its Like The Sun Going Down On Meeeee

Yes there is no sadder sight today than the faces of  Leos. We feel the sun's departure from our sign. We are lethargic, melancholy, blah. Blah Blah Blah. The moon's fullness helped a bit the last couple of nights but now we are just deflated. Bear with us friends and family because when the sun is the symbol for your expression you cannot help but be indifferent to August 22 and even though there is the hangover aka the cusp. We know better. The thrill is gone, the thrill is gone away from here.
Where are my dark shades.

Does This Make Me Crazy

"Everybody thinks you're crazy!"

Wow now that stopped me in my tracks. Everybody thinks I'm crazy.  Am I? Time for a little Cee Lo to go with these tears. Am I crazy because I am bossy or because I need to process my experiences.  Because a hawk flew in front of my car and I didn't brush it off like it meant nothing? Am I crazy because lying on the ground looking up at the clouds is a form of therapy for me. Or because I know how to stop the merry go round without to much damage to my knees. Does this make me crazy?
Possibly.
But Probably Not.
It makes me, me.

It Is Today

http://thesoulgarden.tumblr.com/post/58752115729/i-always-knew-i-would-end-up-here-but-yesterday-i

For My Sons and Daughters Whose Father Went Away

Today is my son's birthday. He was a great kid and is a good man. Today I was thinking about the absence of fathers and wondering if there were some way to offer another explanation of why fathers leave. One that places no blame, one that relieves pain, one that absolves shame and explains-why fathers leave....

A Father's Calling
by Oye'

I think perhaps
it may very well be so.
A father's calling
is sometimes to go.

To make his small offering
to your miraculous start
then to leave mother alone
to nurture your heart.

His voyage may take him
to parts unknown
or douse him in drink or
another woman's home.

His scent you may have caught
from reminences told.
His trail may be blocked
by her love grown cold
.
Yes, I think perhaps
it may very well be so
A father's calling
is sometimes to go.

The why may not be
what you've always thought.
nor even what you've been
repeatedly told.

It is not your lack of goodness
whether or not you are smart
nor were or are you
a burdensome load.

Your father has done
the best that he could do.
When he lay with your mother
and they brought forth you.

I think perhaps
it may very well be so.
A father's calling
is sometimes to go.

Yes, I think, and so
perhaps it is true.
The best of your father
has been given to you.

With Love, Oye
August 17th 2013

In My Solitude

The moon is pushing forward towards full and I am along for the ride. So much is happening within me I have given up the reigns and am swirling along with abandon. Take me over the rainbow Great Mother I have my pen in hand...

Upon My Return

During the month of July and August my life belongs to the children.  It is hectic-so much to do so little staff but we manage. We manage because we know the Bud Billiken back to school Parade &Picnic is the largest parade of its kind in America probably the world. We manage because 60,000 youth haved worked really hard for a chance to be in the limelight.  To be seen as positive hopeful and talented. In other words as children.  They are hungry for this and every year on the second Saturday in August for the past 84 years they are fed. There has been time for little else but slowly I am returning to my attention to the machinations of my life. I've been in the cave since Saturday but the half moon this turning point moon draws me out. There is produce in the garden and mums waiting to be planted. I have been away serving the children and now I am returned.

Rise and Shine

Like an ocean of diamonds I am vast, crushed to brilliance, moved by rhythm, and certain my beauty will out last the  uprisings of land mass predators.

And now the piercing rain

Oh I am drawn and quartered but good. Even knowing there could and more probably would be an opposing display of misfortune to balance the triumphant entree into my 53rd year. But really this is nearly immobilizing. Betrayal, what then is the opposite of betrayal? Loyalty!? Ohhh to appear in broad daylight clearly as one's self. To walk out into the world sans apology; open to the interpretation of the blind. A smile for the halves and the not even halves. Loyal to ones desire to be seen and to see.
Lain bare minimum, peering incredulously at left field nothing remains of the swift reversal of rules cept my disbelieving eyes and ice cold hands.
I will pay the price because it hard to stop rebels who time travel.

On The Third Day She Wrote

I was born on the day after the midpoint between Summer and Autumn. First Fruits is the language I use to reference this auspicious marker on the wheel of the year.
It is sensual abundant and reveals the first manifestations of the havest season. It also shows where radical changes of course may be required. I love this opportunity to begin again or to fertilize what is growing. I chose my attire and my entertainment as ways to express my consciousness.  And so off to The Baton with my two T's Tracy and Trina to watch Blurred Lines Extraordinaire and revel in The Mystique of The Stage
Now on the 3rd day I am writing
  down my observations, celebrating my difficult decisions, revisiting my past and pursuing my future with clear focus and enthusiasm.  Oh and also on the third day playing with my toys I got for my birthday.

Happy Birthday To Me

Well its almost that time...the anniversary of my birth...feeling self contained, like a grown womyn, confident, comfortable,  and cool azz hell. I'm speaking tomorrow for the first time as Parade Director to the participants and sponsors. Later I will join my niece and daughters for a night of burlesque type fun and honoring each other as grown womyn. Saving the rest of the night for my knight in shining armor.
I am covered in the Love
I am keeper of the blood
I am daughter of the Queen
I am the weaver of dreams
I am the keeper of their screams                          I write the words that bring relief                          I forgive my enemies.                                             I believe in several things                                      And nowI lift my voice and sing                 Happy Birthday to me

First Fruits A Harvest Tale

Here I am in the mid point between Summer and Autumn and well so are you. We are Well beyond the first half of the year you and. 8th month 4 more to go but I pause here to honor the mid point the first harvest of the due season. It is also my Birthday tomorrow and I am sure it will bring me joy it already has and it always does. I find myself keeping my  childlike exuberance contained within my beingness.  I am unable to share the smoldering fire in my belly. But it is there smoldering nonetheless and my harvest is a quiet motherlode. It is the culmination of a ten year journey. It is a year of being primed; of witnessing; of seeing more clearly the unseen.  There is more to be revealed....

Soul Work @budbillikenparade

My work is exhausting this time of year. My days stretch long into the night. There are people to placate, papers to file, decisions to make and on and on. Every year I say its my last. And it would be if not for the faces of the people who come every year looking to be dazzled,  affirmed, and connected to something greater. They know the best of this parade is essentially their own presence.