We Come in Pairs

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“Love is expressed by constant care and attention.”

He, the water
And I, a seed
He nourishes me
so plentifully

I am not independent
I am dependent upon
knowledge of self
Upon being in harmony
with a complementary twin force
I am not alone

We
male female
masculine feminine
spiritual physical
emotion reason
day night
left right
positive negative
above below
heaven earth
Sun Moon

I consume truth like food
for the soul, I
align with Mother Earth
the Universe, the Creator

We come in pairs, no opposites
complementing and completing
bringing solidarity to water

I disallow myself to interfere
With this love I have

Stay in flow
embracing all moments
with reverence and respect
for the apple in my first eye

I’m burning the program
changing the frequency
as the red pill turns blue

Art by Justin Copeland

he and I function so wonderfully
as his will-to-power and authority fade
the innate, he comprehends

“sticks in a bundle are unbreakable”
We are saving our own lives, in pairs

Baby, king, leader, father, friend, my man
I believe in you like I believe in me
Whatever it is, we will work through it
Our issues, our solutions, are One
I go hard in Love
delete, start over

I’m here for the death and the awakening
For this unicity
I got you,
in
reciprocity

Trusting my reflection
through his protection

I, the Earth
and he, the seed, 

plant him, in me…

 


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To suffer a death-like experience and be reborn, a beautiful mind forms…

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A continuous process of spontaneous growth

My thoughts unfold
revealing stories
knowing of enemies
knowing of friends

Having neither,
I abandon the trend of opinion

Throw caution to the wind
for an intimate experience

These mysteries are taboo
I find the voodoo that renews, the truth

is simple when observed from a safe distance
in close quarters, it is hard to define

Possibilities from a point of view
active forces shaping reality

I stare,
into your eye

Choosing life is sometimes goodbye

Walking along the lines of a beautiful mind,
my heart is as light as a feather

I see numbers, red dots and patterns
deciphering while I’m cyphering

I subtract, then add, instead
having nothing, I have it all

This little light of mine, it shines
I praise dance with my hands in the sky

Summoning, the sum total
the evenness of the odds

The electricity, the heartbeat, I am
one plus one, you, two plus two
Six times, I’ve
chosen this life, this form,
the dark heart of a panther
illuminating when penetrated

Indigo golden rod in the hands of, the
magician disappears
a dying god,
brings peace of mind,
eleven times, I’ve
known for two thousand seasons

Through several lives, I’ve
seen the best when it was the worst
is one in the same
The energy can be

can flow

through me, let go
come to, come be

open your eyes and

breathe me.

Thank you for coming!  I am grateful. 

The Last Day

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It feels like the end,
but it’s only the beginning…
I wrote the words, then chanted
I spoke the words and stood in formation
I created rituals, so I wouldn’t forget
I burned candles, I lit incense
I filled the room with sage and lobaan
I built an altar so that I could see, I
danced until I could once again breathe, I
didn’t have much company or outside influence, I
took time out for me.
My, Moon watching vigils lasted for hours, my
Sun salutations opened me to spirit, I
studied my chakras, my energy, my spirituality
I focused on balancing my core, I
posed in Kemet, I
tiptoed thru the Nile
I gazed into the Pacific, I,
cried into the Atlantic, I
connected with my angels,
they are my Ancestors, I
learned to forgive, I
learned to live, I
opened my heart, I
received, I
received, I
repeat, I
manifest so magickally, I
was given a purpose, I
mastered chemistry, I
summoned you, I
summoned me, I
let go, I
sang the song, I
held the hands of my friends, I
remembered my Mother, I
saw my Father, I
loved on my Sisters, I
called on my Brothers, I
purged, only to emerge
like a butterfly, colorful, I
have wings.

by Shila Iris, 12/31/2018

Dedicated to Beverly White-Yates … read below


Shout out to my sister Judy, who is turning 36 today.  Peace, my Love.


Also, I am remembering Beverly White-Yates who visited me the week before she passed.
She came to me during my meditation.  I asked myself, “why is Beverly in my meditation?”  My ancestors are the ones that visit me in this state, but she was there, smiling.  She and I were very much alike.  The first day we met, we were holding hands like sisters.  We instantly connected!  Our twenty year difference in age did not matter at all.  She showed me what it was like to have unconditional, pure love from a woman.  [Over the years, I have craved sisterhood in friendship, but the women that were around me, just weren’t authentic.  No disrespect to them, we just didn’t align spiritually.  On the surface, yes, but I was craving something real.  I can see people for what they are to the core.  That is a gift that I have accepted.  So, often times, women will attach to me, but I may seem standoffish when I don’t feel that genuine, raw, honesty and love.  Naturally, I have to protect myself].  Beverly had that.  I could let down my guard and be real with her, with no judgment.  She didn’t drain me, she added to my divine presence.  She was awesome.  I trusted her.  I trusted that she’d never do anything to hurt me.  It’s very rare for me to feel that. And even though I accept people and their actions, it feels good to know that someone will have your back no matter what.  They won’t sell you out or be embarrassed by your authenticity.

When Beverly appeared in my meditation the week before her physical death, she didn’t tell me she was leaving this realm, she sent my friend Bobby to tell me.  Odd, right?  He came and sat down next to me and said, “I have something to tell you.”  I couldn’t believe it.  I explained to him that I had just saw her.  I was in shock of her power, and of my own.  The gifts that she and I shared.  I saw her for what she was, and she saw me.  I loved her.  If we saw each other once every 3 years, the love would be the same.  In the last video she sent to me, she said that she and I had the same vibratory energy, having been born under the Aquarius Sun sign.  She also said that she always thought about me, and that she’d never forget me.  Not very many women in my life have been honest with me in this way, so it made me cry, and even typing this, it makes me cry.  I get it, though, I get death, and I know, like my ancestors, she is still here.  I am blessed to have videos of her on the Marco Polo app to go back and look at, because I think of her a lot.  I also have many pictures from when we worked together and videos from a project she helped me with in grad school.  We spoke the previous year and a few times earlier this year.  She is with me, always.  For as long as I am here, I will keep her alive in my thoughts and in the stories I share.  Peace.

My Introduction to David Banner

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black-history_feb-19_copyright-shila-iris-2017Transformation is possible. He used to be vulgar, ruled by his lower self- arrogant, over-sexed, chasing money, starved for attention, allowing Black life to be dictated to him by non-Black people at his record company. He did this until he knew better. “When you know better, you do better.”  In 2017, he is taking a different approach to African consciousness and to Black life.

David Banner is using his charm to resuscitate Black History, and he is striving to help Black people wake up. Willing to meet people where they are, he uses his own life as an example to inspire change. When you have knowledge of self, small distractions like technology, sex, and material possessions fade. Banner doesn’t hide from his past. He acknowledges his own humanity, and takes responsibility for his actions, reminding people to be humble and honest. When you bring up any of his mistakes, he smiles, laughs, and continues on in his evolution. This level of maturity is necessary on the path to transcendence. I have not known about this man for very long, but I am happy to see him boldly taking action. It’s so easy to get caught up in worldliness that weakens the spirit, but at some point we all have to lay our egos to rest so that we can survive. Always in search of good music, I listened to his latest album, The God Box. I love it. I am sending him good vibrations on his journey to push Black people into consciousness.

“I don’t care what you think of me, I just want you to think!”

Thank you for reading,

2015

Shila Iris

My Introduction to Imhotep

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black-history_feb-16_copyright-shila-iris-2017A few years ago when one of my good friends was a med student, he changed his online alias to Imhotep. I didn’t inquire about it, but in my heart, I acknowledged the change. Then, I realized that instead of taking the Hippocratic oath that students of medicine are required to recite, perhaps he decided to invoke the spirit of the true Father of Medicine. If you’d like to know about him, I encourage you to research the greatness of Imhotep, the world’s first physician, who laid the foundation for the healing arts. I’ll say this: we are forever connected to the past and to our ancestors, each and every one of us. We value their traditions because it makes us stronger. We stand on their graves and ask for guidance and offer our devotion. Imhotep, I honor You, for I am You. My heart told me to dig deeper, and I found jewels, gold, stories, hidden colors. I went above and beyond mainstream education, to find out who I really am, and now I know my worth. I value history. In this age of information, we can uncover truths faster than ever before. This is necessary, because being Black is tough. This is not rhetoric, it really is. That double consciousness that W.E.B. DuBois taught, that invisible man that Ralph Ellison described, is a part of our everyday realities. It can be exhausting, and it can drive you crazy. But, I learned, through a Master Teacher, not to give up, and settle, and make excuses for my ignorance. I need to be healed. We need healing. My ancestors look over me. I swear by Imhotep. That is my oath. Peace.

Thank you for reading,

Shila Iris

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My Introduction to Judith Jamison

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The first time I saw my sister, Judith, perform a classical dance routine with the Cleveland School of the Arts at Parade the Circle, may have been one of the first times I ever saw such dancing. These teenage girls showed real promise. It wasn’t a talent I possessed, but it was definitely one that I admired. I felt a strong connection to the music and to the movement of the dancers. She was really good at it. My sister did not go on to pursue dancing, but I have always wished she would have. Later, I was in the John Hope & Aurelia Franklin Library on the campus of Fisk University doing research for a paper, and I came across a book with Judith Jamison’s picture. She was standing on one foot, with the other pointed up in the air. Her poise was unforgettable. I have paid close attention to her ever since. She spent time studying dance at my Alma Mater, Fisk, and then went to the Philadelphia Dance Academy. Jamison has danced since the age of six studying ballet, tap, acrobatics, jazz, and primitive dance. She was accepted into the American Dance Theater and soon after became the protégé of Alvin Ailey touring the world with his dance company for fifteen years. She branched out and created her own ballet company, but when Alvin Ailey died in 1989, she merged with his company to keep the legacy alive. Her work fuses African motifs with modern dance. I’ve been blessed to see the Alvin Alvin Ailey Dance Theater perform several times, and each time, I always think about Jamison’s picture in that book in the library. I am pleased to say that the two of them together, are my favorite dancers and are definitely part of my Black History.

Thank you for reading,

In remembrance of Robert Nesta aka Bob Marley, Happy Birthday!

2015

My Introduction to Gordon Parks

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Back in 2007, when I rented my first apartment in a cozy little art district west of Cleveland, a neighborhood called Tremont, I was excited to decorate! I had a vision: I wanted my apartment to be filled with warm colors and African art! I had a growing obsession for African textiles, statues, books- anything that had to do with the culture. Visiting the houses of mentors and professors had sparked this desire. In Nashville, I had gone to my roommates mentor’s house that was filled with things I had never before seen. In Washington, D.C., I once visited a professor’s house that had large pieces of art on any wall that was available. I wanted to try something like this. One day, I was browsing through a book about Gordon Parks, and in his New York apartment, he had large mixed-media paintings splattered with African symbols. There were stacks of books in corners and on window seals, artifacts, photos, plants- there was beauty everywhere. It was indeed a sanctuary adorned with mini altars. It truly felt like I lived there with him. He inspired me to decorate any place that I have ever lived since. I gaze at his photos of Black humanity, then I close my eyes, and travel to the places he has been. He has taken me on wonderful journeys. I am humble. Gordon Parks has some of the most beautiful photos I have ever seen. The stories in the eyes of his subjects resonate in my ears. I love his work for it embodies me.

Thank you for reading,

Shila Iris

2015