|General Poetry posted March 8, 2014|
'X' Marks the Spot
The Big Easy (darkly) Contest Winner
Marie Laveau the 'Voodoo Queen.'
A priestess born in New Orleans,
who blended well with rich and poor,
regardless of the skin they wore.
Weeping-songs of every kind.
From beggar's tears to absent minds.
Husbands weary of their lovers.
Wives without the arms of mothers.
With amulets and pretty beads,
kaleidoscopes of coloured seeds,
her sacred stones, and wish-wish bells.
She helped them all with voodoo spells.
As fires burned throughout the night,
and drummers drummed with all their might.
The rhythm stoked-up every vein,
that pumped with someone else to blame.
Her body writhed in rhythmic bliss,
as if she'd kissed and reminisced,
with Gods and soldiers lost and won.
Alas the night, had just begun...
The oldest 'Balm of Gilead' then suddenly arrived.
Shaken but not stirred he saw the Queen.
Walking up toward her, by his side, the wife who died,
covered in a film that might have been.
The sodden Queen stopped in her tracks.
The drum beats slow as death.
The chicken brushed her feathers to the side.
Gilead, drew from his breath, a silver knuckled dream,
and blew toward that darkest heart and died.
Spin us a yarn (darkly) with a story in a poem. The theme: the dark side of New Orleans.
*must deal with the supernatural
*spice it up Cajun style
*no promoting of work until after the contest
The Big Easy (darkly)
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