I Am a Voodoo Doll
Here I am
a voodoo doll
made from rags
of what is left
filled with organic lavnder
of what once was
squashed between two palms
without a lifeline
I am here
whilst you are there
beneath our waxing moon
embroidering my heart
with mourning cross-stitch
'I don't want to say
what I feel to say'
'I don't want to complicate
our existence'
I hear you chant
by a bonfire
invoking spirits
who have no memory
I hear you shout
persuading them
to exert their influence
into both worlds
Yours and my own
There you are
with pins and needles
fighting your battle
against the depth
of these eyes
which seek your lips
against the height
of your thought
which seeks my dream
against the length
of one love which
lives the present
Blue is the colour
that cast the curse
of ancient spells
against its enemy
that cast the curse
against two souls
which breathe as one
but not forever
Here I am
a voodoo doll
made from rags
of what is left
Patchworking my pride
Escaping so far
from that last
sharp pinching feeling.
ps-I do believe the only healer is God but I enjoyed myself watching a documentary
about things I never knew even if its not what i believe...
This is a fiction poem inspired by a short documentary
I always thought as voodoo dolls as something evil
but this documentary stated that in African countries
these dolls are used for healing and good will.
Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2013
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment