Best Voodoo Poems
trickle down economy
pissing away
the poor
pissing off
the middle class
as less and less
our paychecks
pay the bills
ironic how
when I was
still in diapers
the rich got taxed
a whole lot more
and yet
Prosperity -
along with rock and roll -
was King
Now it’s all about
protecting those
whose money
no one sees
as it sits
in nice safe havens
Make a war -
no money to
sustain it
Let the wealth
come
down
TRICK-TRICK
TRICK ling
down to
you and me
T
R
I
C
K
l
i
n
g
.
For Brendan J. Simon's 'Societal Discontent' contest
I pricked my finger
on a thorn of Voodoo roses
felt the stab of crimson
and sweet burn of saffron
in a tequila sunrise
I smelled apples but tasted oranges
as a clock chimed with mockingbirds
in the chartreuse trill of Spring
Summer's cerise burn passed
in a steamy haze
with the glistening sting
of hazelnut sand between my toes
and the white capped kisses
of salty teal on my face
before the cresting of absinthe foothills
One chill morning dew appeared
on pointed leaves as wisps of cirrus
sped in a porcelain sky
and salt lay on my cheeks
not of bright Pacific dreams
As I groped for apricot skies
rose petals fell and curled like ashes
acrid as whiskey and bitter as gin
lost in the gust of October's amber swirl
April's scarlet whisper was silent
in Autumn umber
the seasons having passed
in a sapphire moment
with the piercing shimmer
of Voodoo roses in bloom
10th Place
The Poet's Ear Contest
Sponsor: Greg Barden
Written: 7/16/17
-The Windmills of Your Mind-
Again, this time comes.
I shall undress these freckles
and wear your youth in honor.
Long journey of life.
Seconds of sand in my glass
shall fall upon your small hands.
Young beautiful nurse.
My husband older than I;
paralyzed and mostly mute.
My son, young like you;
if you only knew- my son
taught me how to save his youth.
Magic of black spells
decorate my husband's bed
as I touch his head and smile.
These superstitions-
you ignored while in his room,
telling me that I'm the fool.
Soon in you was change.
As a home care nurse you felt
lack of faith would cause him death.
So then you believed-
garlic, myrrh, snake tongues and hymns;
anything to save his life.
Now your sacrifice
is complete; my freckles lost.
Take this mirror and see me!
My son; my husband-
reversed himself with he, just
as you are me and I...you.
God sent you
into my life
to wake me from the dead
But you broke my heart devoured my soul
and dragged me through hell instead
Because you’re evil
You’re a demon
You’re a witch on the devils crew
You make me dance like a puppet on fire……
With the curse of your love Voodoo
I can’t break free
Of the spell you placed
Designed to fog my brain
I’m a drunken man from tasting your love
And it’s driving me insane
My friends tell me
I need to run away
And find somewhere to hide
But as far as I run I can’t get away
From the venom you’ve left inside
Because you’re evil
You’re a demon
You’re a witch on the devils crew
You make me dance like a puppet on fire…..
with the curse of your love voodoo
You tell me
I’d better stay close
If I want to taste your love
it’s all part of an evil plan
Cause you didn’t come here from above
Now here I am
Knocking on your door
Begging you to let me in
But you’re too busy collecting ……
The souls of other men
Because you’re evil
You’re a demon
You’re a witch on the devils crew
You make us dance like puppets on fire …..
with the curse of your love voodoo
You make me dance like a puppet on fire
With the curse of your love voodoo
She was tall and lovely from 'way down south,
she had blood on her hands, blood on her mouth.
She got voodoo spells and incantations.
She lived on one of those big plantations.
Had she done something bad? Well I don’t know.
She went by the name of Marie Laveau.
She had golden skin and curly black hair.
Down near the bayou you could find her there.
With her big old snake wrapped around and 'round,
it was party time when the sun went down.
Cauldron would bubble and naked they'd dance.
Potions concocted, 'round the fire she’d prance.
She had a mojo hand, a black cat bone.
You’d never want her to catch you alone.
There were stories told of the men she’d charmed;
take her husband Jacques, he wasn't alarmed,
he just disappeared, he never returned,
just ashes left and the incense she burned.
Marie has a tomb down in New Orleans,
she'll be ever known as the Voodoo Queen.
Eternally lives as a big black crow,
the fire in its eyes is a reddish glow.
Scratch three X’s, leave a gift in the glass,
then make your wish, it just might come to pass.
There's a person you'd like to curse,
so a voodoo doll, then make first;
Upon that doll now cast a spell,
summoned from the wicked in hell;
Now you need some pins and needles,
bring the pain of pitch forked devils;
The length of pins make sure are long,
the devils pain will be more strong;
The more a needle's thick and round,
will make the pain be more profound;
Must take your victims' lock of hair,
attach it to the doll to wear;
The doll, up high, hold in the air,
Into the doll's eyes, you must stare;
Call the doll by your victims name,
while at the doll, the needle aim;
Curse the name as you stab it in,
twisting and turn it as you grin;
With needles stuck about the head,
each needle deeply did embed;
With legs, all over, stuck with pins,
you now must wish the curse begins.
voodoo doll
with your sewn on smile
black button eyes
that cuts my darkness in half
you love me with
your haitian nights
down on the island
with your scented candles
you cast a spell on me
with your blue denim jeans
sparkling magic of
southern mystery
the french quarter
spins in my mind
slow down the stars
powder the moon
burn the incense
watch the ashes fall
from my silk laced spirit
pour the oil of desperation
my flaming imagination
paint me a vagueness
of your hottest desire
create your potion of sexuality
give me your animal attraction
i have forgotten my soul
you stab me with
the steel needle
i am you slave
take me my voodoo doll
so steamy are the bayou nights
standing in the cold
of alabama dreaming
Today I made a craft
It turned out really well
I made a little doll
Then cast an evil spell
I borrowed some of your hair
And a clipping from your toes
Then I went all through your closet
And stole some of your clothes
This doll is really neat
I can’t wait to try it out
I want to make you dance!
I want to make you shout!
Just hand me that little pin
The one with the really sharp point
I’ll stab it in the doll
And you’ll ache in all your joints.
You kind of had it coming,
To me you were quite rude.
But maybe with this pin…
You’ll finally change your mood!
A voodoo doll
That’s what I am
A toy for your make believe
Only for the usual
you know ummm mass destruction spree
The originator from my New Orleans
Creation of the MRS. Voodoo witch queen
Don’t tell her though
But In my new orleans
A voodoo doll for me
A voodoo doll for you
Break my neck
Stab the eyes
Its only my death
Do I see a smile
Aren’t you happy
I swear you are
Guess who's cursed
Is it not fun
ill raise u up
brake all the bones
doesn’t it hurt
no its just for fun
Im just your voodoo doll
That watches you sleep
at your home
When your all alone
Do I see a smile?
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.
Voodoo
magic, mystic
cursing,healing,bewitching
my family's hidden background.
Spells
Chase the voodoo to sleep. sleepless freaks i see in the silver screens blocking the vision of me. there's no choice but to eliminate hate inundating the mind. please mute the voices haunting the airwaves making me blind. the big bad budding burden flashing red lights at every intersection. stealing away the insight i try to gain by using time for reflection.
It's a mess the way i test myself with deranged prophecies and bleak scenarios. replaying horror flicks in my head. blasting screams in stereo. all too often the worm hole shoots me to a mid evil castle of torturous devices. impaled in dreams that seem to be broadcasting punishment for succumbing to the world's entice and vices. but other times i fall victim to a good old fashioned "day-mare". people notice the self conversations and can't help but laugh and stare. I must say it's becoming difficult to blame them. if i can't learn to shake this voodoo, it's true my future's looking grim.
What do I do? they're gonna end up arresting me! Toss my ass in a padded room and throw away the key! and get this...as i worry about getting sent away, the paranoia increases inside my head. i reach for medication increasing odds of ending up prematurely dead. I may be crazy, but don't take me for an idiot fool. and don't haze me about where my faith is, cus' this could just as soon be you. and i've learned enough to know that each and every one of us will die. and you may take me as insane, but me not taking my own life's got nothing to do with having a fear to fry.
This is exactly why i choose to write as my mind fills up with crazy thoughts and throws fits. it's a therapy for me to try and work out all the kinks that make me sink, instead of cowardly throwin' in the towel n' calling it quits.
porch light midnights
your voodoo kisses
drifting in the fog to
french quarter sidewalks
walking on the ghosts
of southern intimacy
antique balconies with
green wooden shutters
half shadows of you and i
sweet handmade pralines
floating on a cypress stump
walking on water for
a taste of you
casting your spell
with your chicken foot wand
you melt me into
the mississippi delta
pour me out on bourbon street
dancing in your trance
seductive velvet hips
speaking the language
of the mimes
i stumble in your stare
a riverboat gambler
with a tarot card hand
tempting my fate
in your eyes
misty moonlight dust lines
cover your seductive curves
take me with your erotic flair
bring me back home
the creaking of the front porch
drowns me in its painted glow
mosquitoes buzz
as i taste the flood
the ruby red lips
that are your voodoo kisses
In El Paso town is where "The Head Witch" make her nest
She is smart, clever mean, evil to the heart
her tentacles to grab her prey, reach far and wide
Been at war with this old heifer for 25 years, she claims to be the best
And she can take one for a wild ride
Like a tornado going through a town, tears it all apart
El Paso is the hot spot on the Mexican border drugs
Has been for many years, where the witch will be at
Everything that she does is a evil conspiracy
Works hand in hand with the Mexican Mafia and all of their thugs
When it comes to evil's general, she wears that hat
But like "The Wizard Of Oz", behind the curtain where you cannot see
Several years ago, she had one of her conspiracy after me
Acted like I had gone and peed in her cornflakes
I guess I did a little and crossed her path
I thought that I would send her something to settle her furry
So I decided that was enough,put in the brakes
She has been on cocaine for 40 years, full of mad wrath
So I sent her a Bible, in plain brown wrapping paper
Thought that Bible would take her voodoo away
Now if that did not get the old hussy 's under britches in a wad
Her little group, killed my best friend, my mother and has my daughter
But God will get her one day, so that is okay
Scared her so bad, in open court testified she called the FBI bomb squad
A witch with no voodoo is no good when it comes to Black magic
Made the wart on her old nose glow in the dark
She vowed to get me, in any way
But she would love it better if it was tragic
God is stalking her, reckon he will hit his mark
The moral to this story..She will pay in her Judgment Day
For as long as I can remember
Me madda was de head voodoo club member
She taught me how to make love potion
To mess with der woman emotion
So me meet dis lovely girl
Seeing ‘er, give me a mighty trill
Me make a love potion I confess
From a piece of ‘er nighty dress
Mix it wit da loose hairs I find spare
From me teet and ‘er underwear
Put a drop a me sista’s joojoo
Me perform de dance from de club voodoo
Throw in me madda’s secret potion
And give me girl as a hand and face lotion
For a year everyting sweet
Me girl an animal love treat
Until one day I notice de hair
Growing on her hands and ‘er face
De one me puck from me teet and her underwear
She look like she not from de human race
‘er back bend, knuckles drag upun de floor
Der woman get a whole lot a chunky
She want me twenty five times a day, me sore
Each day me see her she look more like a monkey
O’ Madda your potion no work, why you lie?
Your son he been abused, he sore and he cry
Dis woman ruin your son life
He wake up to find she is his wife…