Tidal Memory
Tidal Memory is a multi-island poem cycle tracing the contours of migration, myth, and spiritual return. Moving from St. Thomas to Kauai, Puerto Rico to Whidbey Island, the series follows the shifting tides of identity across colonial histories, ancestral waters, and sacred texts. These are poems between body and spirit, land and language, scripture and folklore.
Through duppies, duat, and divine breath, the work moves in and out of visibility, surfacing moments of rupture and revival. Each island becomes a portal; each wave a reckoning. This is a journey through the undercurrents: semi-diurnal, diasporic, and deeply rooted in the rhythm of return.
Simmer( St Thomas)
“What yo do in de dark come out in de light” is a Caribbean proverb rooted in oral tradition, echoing ancestral justice and spiritual reckoning. The duppy, a ghost in Afro-Caribbean folklore, rises with the tide, linking memory to haunting. Creole phrasing holds rhythmic space here, capturing both speech and spirit.
We deh ride round
From Cruz Bay to Red Hook and Coki Point
Down winding roads and up sharp turns
It’ getting dark now
Harder to see through the yellow-cedar trees
We stop
A previously camouflaged corner bottle suddenly appears
Wedged in between Rum and Tequila
It topples down from the top shelf
What yo do in de dark come out in de light
Water bubblin' in de August heat.
Waves rising into rocky apparitions like duppies
When de tide rise, all boat float
Longa dan twine
its time
To set sail
Into the unknown
Leh we go
Stowaway( St Croix)
The use of “Leh we go” and “Them Man” reflects Crucian vernacular shaped by colonial rupture and resistance. The ship becomes a metaphor for forced and chosen migration. Echoes of Myal (a Jamaican spiritual revival tradition) reframe escape as transformation through ritual trance and spirit possession.
Leh we go
On the underbelly of ships
hop on
And over
And under
Occluded from light
Creating Shadows
I’s a Castaway
Cast a-stray
By Them Man
Me’n sure of life more sure of death
But breath by breath
I ge’ de courage
Gah walk onboard
this cruise is
A trip of unsure length
Crucian Time its
Cruisin Time
I can hear the drums of the ocean
On this
Maiden Voyage
May de Lawd bless me on this
Myal-Revival engulfing me
Tie ya boat good, storm comin
Shipwreck (Kauai)
“Kahakai” (Hawaiian for shoreline) and “Kanaloa” (a sea deity and god of the underworld) root this piece in Hawaiian cosmology. The phrase pau hana means “after work,” signaling rest or transition. Here, it's a euphemism for spiritual surrender. Hawaiian myth blends with Polynesian maritime tradition, mapping wreckage onto rebirth.
The Ship is
Weaving in and out of murky waters
Waves haki on the kahakai
Sharp rocks on fire
that look like
Siren calls draw us in
The Pirate’s Trap
They Bussin’ our hull
Shipwreck
It was then I began to sink instead of ’au
The water and its mana
was calling me
Grateful and garish
Guarding my life until Kanaloa’s
Gates begin to open
So I went
off duty
off land
Pau Hana
Salt fills my throat
I knew I could do it
Wop Yo Jaw!
As I continue to sink
Water fills me
I breathe in
And breathe out
Alo ha
Geev’um!
Sumergido ( Puerto Rico)
Spanish and scriptural references intertwine here as Romanos 6:4–6 speaks of burial and resurrection with Christ, a framing for the fracturing and reconstruction of identity.
Ahora sumergido en el diluvio
Mis Partes faccionadas
Convertidas fraccionadas
Debajo de la barra
Sepultadas juntamente en el olvido (Romanos 6:4-6)
Se ensamblan
Empiezan a
Entrecruzarse
Creando una matriz de piel cuadriculada
Y como cubos de hielo, el
Agua comienza
A perforar a través de los espacios
De la vida y el cuerpo
Ahora hechos huecos
Dejando solo nociones de sonido en el ánima,
Anhelos convertidos
En rastros,
en ecos,
de repente
En el subterráneo
una llamada súbita a la superficie
Hacía algo en el horizonte.
Hilos deshilachados
Se empiezan a entretejer en el telar
Creando algo completamente nuevo
Sunrise(Whidbey)
Surah citations Al-Waqi'ah (56:20) and Al-Insan (76:5–6) invoke the sweetness and reward of paradise, aligning the morning light with divine offering. “Nafas” (breath) connects to Sufi ideas of spiritual presence, while La ilaha illa Allahmarks a sacred return. The island becomes a site of tajdīd—renewal.
On the horizon
The sun begins to rise in this paradise
Sour jams of fresh fruit (Surah Al-Waqi'ah (56:20)
And refreshing digestifs ( Surah Al-Insan (76:5-6))
Appear on this table shoreside
As we take in life:
We breathe and begin to float as
Stories of legends bubble up to the surface
Stories
On correct timing
And place
And destiny
Land Ahoy!
Nafas fastening
My breaths get caught up-
I exhale
I Inhale
La Ilah to illa Allah
An Energetic tajdid
A moment of religious revival
Fa-inna al-jannata hiya al-ma'wa (Surah An-Nazi'at (79:41)
Sayonara (Culebra)
The reference to Ka and Ba (Egyptian soul aspects) situates the self between planes of existence, while the duat(underworld) signals transition. The semi-diurnal movement of tides mirrors the oscillation between spirit and land, clay and water, scripture and myth—culminating in Isaiah 64:8:
Levantate
Suddenly I jump up
Lifted from my seat on this small
Propeller-plane
Vai!
Displaced parts
With a
Propensity
for adventure
Sure enough
I rise like clay
And fall
Like water
Back into my seat
And towards the mainland
Seeing snakelike shape of Culebra in the distance
Snake Gods Guarding me
Past the duat
my
Ka and Ba now binded
From high to low tide
I have a
Semi
Diurnal
movement
As I begin to smooth out
I move from east to west
Counterclockwise on this potter’s wheel of life:
we all are the work of thy hand(Isaiah 64:8)
And suddenly
The arid air rises
And the haze and fog begin to clear