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lifelover Nov 2016
when i was ten my sister tried to drown me because
she wanted to cleanse me of my sins. they said she was
schizophrenic but
i think she was right
i should have listened
Suicidal, reclining on a sofa
Gazing at his partner’s photo,
A handsome friend of mine I got
He was  by an
Overwhelming love smote.

To optimize hers
And his pleasure to trim
She opted
Suddenly to desert him.

Buddy, what weighs
So heavily on your mind?
Get it off your chest
A solution I may help you find!

“This picture-perfect girl
Sweet-talked me into love,
She playacted
As one sent from above.
But all of a sudden,
Before I had figured it out,
A mishap,
She dropped off the map.
You see, she was ready
To flee to
Her secret fiancé abroad
Simultaneously,
All the while grabbing
My hand
To lead me
Along love’s road.

With her fiancé
Stashed in
The back of her mind,
In a manner
A lead to her secret
I may not find
She was aware
Our love
To a halt
Would soon grind
However absurd
Her act I might find!”

I recited to him
A poem from Debebe Seifu,
Ethiopia’s famous poet,
Cognizant a well prescribed
Poem is an antidote
"You served me
An asinine chalice
Concocted of
Honey and gall,
Which at one shot
I gurgled down my throat.
Your fingers caressed me
To make me forget my pain
To lullaby me in to a sleep
Upon awakening from
My hallucination to get myself
In a thorny bed again."

Reading, re-reading the poem
Laughing out loud,
His anguish he soon forgot.
So make note,
To normalize a mood swing
Reading poems is a nice thing.
Based on a true story
Keiri Aug 2019
Drown me in the pond.
Purify my saddened soul.
Forgive my darkness.
5 - 7 - 5 Syllables
Kabelo Maverick Oct 2018
star called Scar,
miracles like firemen
The sky sources signs
umbilical to inspire man
Power of thought
dreams without proof
or miseducation?
the Hour is odd and
even aloof from
Miss education
Some forgetting and
sought to scorch  
the ceiling, suffocating
coz we’ve lost the
torch to meaning
Maverick©
Seema Jan 2018
The smell of burning incense
Awakes my sleeping senses
The ringing of temple bells
You got go, that's what mum tells
To the morning prayer
Which I love, is not rare
As each day starts with Gods name
The days go by almost the same
Peaceful atmosphere all around
As the smell of yagna surrounds
The air purified from negative vibes
And silently the bees leave their hives
The locals then extract the pure honey
Which is sold and thus a source of money
Life is just perfect living with less noise
Here in the village, but it's ones choice
To choose the style of life they prefer
And if asked to me, I always refer
To the place where I would love stay
Is in my village, where we all had our own way...

©sim
Mystic904 Oct 2017
Spend away the world which ye most admire
Demands from thee, nothing but a sole desire
Impress Him, waking midnights in remembrance
For thee, shall thy soul be dipped in fragrance
girl diffused Oct 2017
my mother told me
you christen a home
in her island-country
you take a chicken
behead it with a sharpened knife
slit it cleanly across the neck

let blood splatter untainted
earth and burn incense
let the burning bush
stink and permeate the freshly
erected walls, seep into the wood
seep into the tiling

purify it
make it your own home
somehow
somehow
i think that's beautiful
In Jamaica, there is an uncommon spiritual practice known as "obeah." In other Afro-Caribbean islands and in Louisiana, in the states, it is referred to as "voodoo." The mysticism and pantheon of gods of old permeate the historical fabric of this ancient and frowned-upon tradition.

The methodical slaughter of a chicken and the splattering of blood on the earth is believed by some to help bless the land that the home would be built upon. The belief was that the blood would purify the soil...make it sanctified. Additionally, it was also believed that in order to purify the home one would need to burn incense. My mother, when she was recalling this tale to me of the people who still do it, mentioned that she had thought of burning incense in our as-of-yet unfinished home.  No incense was burnt. No chickens were slaughtered. It is honestly done with reverence and although the slaughtering is seen as cruel by some or would be seen that way, for an ancient custom that is still respected, one of the few still practiced by some on the islands, it is seen as...a good option. Just a little backstory on the poem's origins.

Also the purification could also denote purifying one's body. As I was writing this, I thought of how we practice certain rituals to do this. We "burn out" certain toxins and cleanse our blood of impurities. We drink detoxifying drinks, hydrate ourselves with water,  go one diets, and refrain from eating certain carbs and sugars. Some of us treat our body as a home to be cleansed. Some of us do not.

I think the juxtaposition of the image of blood, earth, the death of an animal...its sacrifice for the sake of blessing a land, a home, a family in relation to one's body is interesting. My hope is that I married the two concepts together in a way that is understandable to you and that you may find a piece of my culture to be interesting. If you don't, at least you learned something new. :D

xoxo
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