Maya Poems From Isla Mujeres


lost and gone forever, tourists say

moon goddess Ixchel listens to their harsh lies

see her so tiny in this photo

sitting on a sliver of moon

reflecting on these Maya ruins

collapsed in decay

gray stone temple above the sea

where female spirits rise first each morning with orange sunshine

slumber late at night bathed in lemon moonbeams

more powerful than ever

Ixchel flings psychedelic rainbows across an azure sky

from Punta Sur

the highest point in holy Yucat√°n

on easternmost Mexican ground

respecting nature

demanding parity

wearing a crown of wriggling serpents

controlling dead souls in a crossbones skirt

carrying a overflowing water jug

our snake wisdom conjurer blesses the rain

curses with floods

protects pilgrims

condemns culprits

betray our astral empress  

at your own risk

better watch your bones