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“You whose day this is,

make it BEAUTIFUL

Get out your rainbow colors,

that it may be beautiful.”

~Nekoosa Indian Poem

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Literature Voodoo is a page honoring writers and artists for their contributions to literature and the arts. Although writers and artists of African and Caribbean descent have a foundational role here, other equally important contributors include those of Latino/Brazilian, Native American, Creole, and Polynesian decent. There aren’t enough works out there from writers and artists of these backgrounds. Hopefully that will change with the help of this blog.

You will find the works of legendary and rising award-winning writers sharing the same platform as writers the world has yet to hear about. Their works will have an opportunity to shine in a way that reflects their cultural identity and artistic gift.

The goal of this blog is to do two things:

1) Entertain readers from all walks of life on the cultural beauty behind the poems/spoken word, prose, short stories, books and art showcased on this blog.

2) Educate readers on the enchanters behind the craft through their biographies, author spotlights, writer profiles and personal essays.  

All the work featured on Literature Voodoo is credited to the authors and artists of the work respectfully. They reserve all the rights to their work.

Let’s Celebrate our global culture through the richness of literature and art!

Bienvenue! 🙂

Arose N Daghetto

Creator, Author, Cultural/Linguistics Scholar 

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Word of the Week: WĀPĀKI

Written by: Arose N Daghetto for Literature Voodoo blog

Today’s word of the week comes from the Cree Indian tribe. Wāpāki means, tomorrow.

In the literal term, wāpāki means, when there is daylight. A flat, monotone sound accompanies the pronunciation of each word. That is, word for the Cree native, each syllable for the non native. Wā  pā ki.

The Cree Indian tribe are among the highest in population of people belonging to the First Nations of Canada. Most Cree Indians live in Canada. However, many Crees have migrated south into the North America. Although there are Cree Indians living in other regions of the country, a larger population of them reside in the midwestern region such as Minnesota and Montana.

The origins of the American Indians trace back to Northern Asia and Siberia. Siberia is a part of Russia. Russia is often considered a part of Europe, although the continent is sandwiched between Europe and Northern Asia. This is not to say that the Russians are Asians, but they are close neighbors nonetheless.

The tribal languages spoken by the American Indians are primarily of Asian influence. Asian languages are tonal languages. If you listen to someone speak in Vietnamese, Chinese, Japanese, Taiwanese, etc., you will sort of hear a melody of tones and sounds in their speech. Each word is pronounced with either a high tone, neutral tone or low tone. Some words or sentences will take on different meanings depending on the tone you use. Therefore, it’s important for the foreign tongue learning an Asian language to keep this little factor in mind: What you say and how you say it to an Asian speaker is everything!

In some Asian languages, there are some words that don’t always have a strongly pronounced sound. For example, in Vietnamese, some words seem to have a sound that comes more from the throat or through clenched teeth or from the side of the mouth. This can be extremely challenging for the non native linguist or teacher to devise a phonetics table to guide students in these words! For some Asian languages, it seems like the best way for a casual learner is to focus more on the audio lessons. It’s a good way to get to know the surface of the language better by listening and emulating the sounds. Once you feel more acquainted with the language, you can then decide if you want to make a serious commitment by going deeper into really studying the language. 

Back to the Cree language. Notice the long bar over the vowel sound (a). This is an indication to the speaker or reader that this letter, or vowel sound is to be pronounced with a long “a” sound. Also, in Cree, the letter “k” is pronounced like the letter “g”, so it has a “guh” sound.

Let’s try to say it, shall we?

Wā —> Waah (normal pitch monotone; slightly prolonged, flat sound)

Pā —> Paah (normal pitch monotone; slightly prolonged, flat sound)

Ki —> GEE (slightly raised pitch monotone; short, stronger sound)

All together now!

Wāpāki

(Waah paah GEE)

Tomorrow  

(or the literal term, When there is daylight)

 

Wanna attempt it in a sentence? LOL… Come on, you’ll be fine…

Example:

Wāpāki nawāpamāw nitānis

Tomorrow I will see my daughter.

Wāpāki

Waah-paah-GEE

Nawāpawmāw

Nah-wow-PAH-mow**

Nitānis

nîh-TAAH-nîhs

**Note:

(-ow as in the English word “wow” or “now” when you sound out the word/syllable -mow and -wow)

Wāpāki nawāpamāw nitānis

Waah-paah-GEE… Nah-wow-PAH-mow**… nîh-TAH-nîhs 

Tomorrow I will see my daughter.

 

To learn more about the Cree Indian tribe and their language please visit the YouTube channel #CreeSimonSays. He is a wonderful teacher and is so kind to share some of the language of his people to the world.

See you next week with another Word of the Week! 🙋

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*****Disclaimer*****

All photos, drawings and writings belonging to other artists featured on this blog are solely for entertainment or illustrational purposes only. I do not own nor do I have any desire to take credit for any photos, artwork or writings not belonging to me. They all belong to the rightful owners of the work and the original websites they came from.

This excludes my own personal writings and photos I share on this blog which are always indicated and credited under my name and periodical company.

About Literature Voodoo’s Creator and Founder….

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Arose N Daghetto is a poet, author and linguistic scholar. She is an independent researcher of language and culture in the African Diaspora. She also enjoys researching literary arts in Native American and Polynesian cultures.

Arose has a Bachelors in Communications from Rhode Island College with some post graduate studies in Professional Communications at Clarke University in Worcester, Massachusetts.

Her interest in studying languages began at age ten, which was the same age she began to pursue creative writing. At age 17, Arose was one of four selected winners for the George Houston Bass Play-Rites Festival, an annual contest that was held at Brown University’s Rites and Reasons theater in Providence, Rhode Island. She was the youngest winner in the contest’s history, which was open to college students and adults of all ages worldwide. This also made her the youngest contestant to submit a play to the theater while still being a student in high school. Her accomplishment earned her praises from school officials, the city mayor at the time and local college and university professors. She also received an award of recognition for her play from the city’s board of education.

Besides being the founder and creator of Literature Voodoo, Arose N Daghetto is also the founder of the privately owned Black Girl Down Publications, a small periodical company specializing in the literary arts, global social consciousness and the evolution of linguistics in today’s society.

Arose’s first book, “Anger Management: A Collection of Urban Poetry” was published in 2011. She is currently working on publishing her second book, “Inner City Lullabies”, a book containing four novellas.

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Word of the Week: Griot
Pronounced: GREE- ût or, GEE-uht.
The u (û) has a short “uh” sound. It’s like you are trapping the “uh” sound in your throat so that it doesn’t flow out of your mouth. Think of the words “hut” or “gut” when sounding out the second syllable of this word.

A Griot is a storyteller originating from West Africa. They are bestowed the gift of communication by their elders which goes hand in hand with the gift of entertaining the masses. You will find numerous griots- authentic, home raised griots- in almost any part of West Africa.

These gems of the West African community are well versed in the literary arts. They are traveling performers whose stage is usually a space of land in their local village or a community miles away.

In addition to storytelling, griots inform their audience about history and genealogy. They are also preservers of tradition and heritage. They are musicians who exalts praise and worship while engaging in fellowship with their audience through the instruments they play and the songs they sing.

Griots are socially responsible people who are like ambassadors to the community. They are humble and kind souls in their own right. They are wise men (and women) who admonish their community through proverbial lessons. Griots are peacemakers who sometimes mediate on various issues or disputes. They are also brave people well skilled in defending and protecting their community when necessary.

Don’t be pursuaded by the glamorized images of griots you might see or hear about in western world. Becoming a griot is not easily obtained. It takes many years of training and development before the chosen successor can go out into the world with this gift. Training begins at a very early age by an elder in the family. This is how the gift, or tradition is passed down through the generations. Stories, history, certain musical instruments and traditional accounts are just some of the valuable things taught during the training.

Griots are also known by their alternative French name, Jali, or Jéli. The name has two different spellings but only one way of pronouncing it. DJEHY-lee. Think of the word fudge when pronouncing the J word in French, “djuh”…. “djehy”…. DJEHY-lee. French is the principal language spoken in many parts of West Africa.

See you next week with another word. 🙋

~Arose

Article written by Arose N Daghetto for Literature Voodoo blog

_______________________________

 

For more information on griots, please visit these sites:

http://www.seckoukeita.com/my-story/my-culture/

http://www.bucknell.edu/Documents/GriotInstitute/What is a Griot.pdf

 

*****Disclaimer*****

All photos, drawings and writings belonging to other artists featured on this blog are solely for entertainment or illustrational purposes only. I do not own nor do I have any desire to take credit for any photos, artwork or writings not belonging to me. They all belong to the rightful owners of the work and the original websites they came from.

This excludes my own personal writings and photos I share on this blog which are always indicated and credited under my name and periodical company.

 

 

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Derek Walcott: A Poetic Genius

By: Arose N Daghetto for Literature Voodoo blog

 

Born in Saint Lucia in 1930, Derek Walcott was a poet whose writings thrived on challenging the human mind and social consciousness. His poetry unveiled the marriage between the beauty of the islands and its continual growing pains of post colonialism.

Walcott gave readers candid and sometimes dreamy perspectives of life through the eyes of Caribbean men and women. He paired his poetry with his artwork which further indulged readers with visuals of those perspectives. He enabled readers to breathe in the spirit of these characters. We get to walk in the characters’ shoes. We feel their love or their heartbreak. We experience their wins and grieve along with them during their losses. And because Derek Walcott’s work often included excerpts of his personal life experiences, we are given the opportunity to become acquainted with the man behind the poetry.

In Hilton Als’s tribute article to the late poet entitled, “Derek Walcott, A Mighty Poet Has Died” (The New Yorker, March 17, 2017), Als fondly recanted his interview with Walcott:

“I felt as though I had always known him- not known him, exactly, but seen him, been in his aura, his history…”

Als used many positive words to describe who Derek Walcott was. One of those words was complex. Although one might question how could saying a person is complex be positive, if you read his article (provided below)*, you will see where he meant it in a good way.

Derek Walcott was complex. He was complex in the sense of creativity and intellectualism. He was a poet, painter, playwright and journalist. Intellectually, he was a Nobel Prize laureate, a professor at Boston University, which is one of North America’s leading Ivy league schools. He was also the founder of the Boston Playwright Theater. Furthermore, he was honored by The Order of the Caribbean Community, The Order of Chivalry and The Most Excellent Order by Queen Elizabeth II, who elevated his name to Sir Derek Walcott. These are only some of the many credentials and high honors Walcott received during the course of his prestigious writing career.

Not enough people have heard about the genius known as Derek Walcott, especially those of the younger generation. I didn’t know who Derek Walcott was either. A beautiful friend I once knew introduced me to his poetry several months ago.

There is still more to learn about this poetic genius. A humble genius who often used his gift to mentor and advocate other upcoming writers. His poetry did more than just earn him a place on the elite list of world literature’s greatest writers of all time, it secured his place there. Like Chaucer, Homer and Shakespeare, Derek Walcott’s masterpieces should be on the syllabus of every middle school, high school and college English classes.

Derek Walcott wore many hats in his lifetime before and after he became a world renowned poet. The genius may be gone physically, but his voice will live on forever through every book he wrote and every legacy he left behind. Long live Derek Walcott. Long live Saint Lucia. Stay beautiful and never give up on your hard work for a better tomorrow.

 

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“Doubt was his patron saint, it was his island’s,
the saint who probed the holes in his Saviour’s hands”

“(despite the parenthetical rainbow of providence)
and questioned resurrection; its seven bright bands.”

“Saint Thomas, the skeptic, Saint Lucia, the blind
martyr who on a tray carried her own eyes,”

“the hymn of black smoke, wreath of the trade wind,
confirming their ascent to paradise. “

 

~ Tiepolo’s Hound by Derek Walcott, 2000

 

_______________________________________

* Hilton Alt’s article:
https://www.newyorker.com/culture/culture-desk/derek-walcott-a-mighty-poet-has-died

 

*****Disclaimer*****

All photos, drawings and writings belonging to other artists featured on this blog are solely for entertainment or illustrational purposes only. I do not own nor do I have any desire to take credit for any photos, artwork or writings not belonging to me. They all belong to the rightful owners of the work and the original websites they came from.

This excludes my own personal writings and photos I share on this blog which are always indicated and credited under my name and periodical company.

Word of the Week: Ouai

 

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“Ouai” (pronounced Ooo-wehy)  means “Yeah” in French. It is an informal alternative to “Yes”. It is best used among people you know personally like friends and family. You might come off as rude or disrespectful if you answer someone you don’t know this way, like an elder, a customer or a teacher.

 

Example:

 

Hot Babe: Tu veux aller au cinéma ce soir ou pas?

(Do you want to go to the movies tonight or not?)

Badass Boyfriend: (Runs his fingers through his immaculate hair.) Ouai.  (Yeah.)

Let’s say it together!

• Tu veux aller au cinéma ce soir ou pas?

(Too voo zah-lehy oh see-nehy-mah suh swah ooo pah?)

• Ouai.

(Ooo-wehy)

 

Now you have a new word to add to your everyday conversation! Have fun, impress your friends!

See you next week with another word…🙋

~Arose N Daghetto

 

 

 

 

*****Disclaimer*****  

All photos, drawings and writings belonging to other artists featured on this blog are solely for entertainment and illustrational purposes only. I do not own nor do I have any desire to take credit for any photos, artwork or writings not belonging to me. They all belong to the rightful owners of the work and the original websites they came from. 

This excludes my own personal writings and photos I share on this blog which are always indicated and credited under my name and periodical company.

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What can you expect to see on the new and improved Literature Voodoo? Lesser poems. More cultural articles. More concise. It’s that simple.

• Articles will cover a variety of topics related to the literary arts. They will be engaging, entertaining and reader friendly.

• Profiles on language, spirituality, and other forms of entertainment from cultures around the world, especially those of the African diaspora

• Word of the week

•  Writing tips and resources to help writers succeed further in their writing goals

• And more!

Here’s to breathing new life into this website. Sending positive enlightenment to every person this blog reaches.

Ase.   🙏

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Stay tuned.

~Arose N Daghetto

 

*****Disclaimer*****  

All photos, drawings and writings belonging to other artists featured on this blog are solely for entertainment and illustrational purposes only. I do not own nor do I have any desire to take credit for any photos, artwork or writings not belonging to me. They all belong to the rightful owners of the work and the original websites they came from. 

This excludes my own personal writings and photos I share on this blog which are always indicated and credited under my name and periodical company.

Arose N Daghetto, Koté ou yé??

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Hola! Coucou! Bom dia! Bonjou/Bonswa! Bienvenue! Hello everybody! I see you out there. 👀

I’ve noticed an increase in people visiting Literature Voodoo lately. I want to say thank you for visiting my page. Thank you for the likes, shares and follows over the years. I appreciate your presence, even if you don’t comment or share. It means a lot that you took the time out of your day or night to stop by. 🙏

So, Koté ou yé?? Where are you, Arose N Daghetto??

Koté’m yé (Where am I)? Life happened. I developed a long term writers block which forced me to stop writing. I also became a caregiver/(volunteer) CNA to several important people in my life. As a result, I denounced being a writer because not only was I way too busy to write anything, I also fell out of love with writing. I didn’t want to be a writer anymore. I took all the notebooks of stories and poetry I wrote and packed them in a garbage bag. I pulled all my websites up and was about to hit the delete permanently button one by one when something stopped me. I was impelled to take a little more time to think things over before I got rid of everything.

A month later a poem came to me. I wrote the poem and posted it on my Facebook page. A few days later, a short essay. Then nothing for about three or four months. Then a short story came to me. Half way into my first short story came another.

I did some soul searching in between the people I’ve been caring for. I realized that the writer within was still very much alive and wasn’t ready to call it quits… at least for now. So today, little by little, I’m back to work. Back to my original first and only love.

I’ve been working on improving my writing, building my writing resume and working on new material. You will be seeing new things soon. Bigger and better things but more concise. I hope you stay tuned and come back again in the near future. 🙂

Ti prosima vez! Until next time… see you soon.

Much love,

Arose N Daghetto

 

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*****Disclaimer*****  

All photos, drawings and writings belonging to other artists featured on this blog are solely for general use or illustrational purposes only. I do not own nor do I have any desire to take credit for any photos, artwork or writings not belonging to me. They all belong to the rightful owners of the work and the original websites they came from. 

This excludes my own personal writings and photos I share on this blog which are always indicated and credited under my name and periodical company.

MARACUJÁ (PASSIONFRUIT)
            ~Written By Arose N Daghetto

 

I’m sitting in the kitchen
holding the fruit of infatuation
Waiting for the one I love
To show up in the room
I speak in passionese to grandfather time
and all he says back to me is
tick…
tock…
tick…
tock…

 

Who will bite this fruit of infatuation
growing warm in my hand
should the man that I love
not come home tonight?
Can you tell me
my old and wise grandfather?
tock…
tick…
tock…
tick…

 

Precious grandfather
minister of parable thoughts
You’ve always been the sparrow
on my shoulder
during insomnia and quiet conversations
Come out of your silence, Grandfather
Talk to me
enlighten me
tick…
tock…
tick….
tock…

 

The big hand covered the little hand
In a reverent embrace
between grandfather’s polished eyes
They braced themselves
for the arrival of a new hour
and the official departure of another day
GONNNG….
GONNNG….
GONNNG….

 

Midnight drops itself in the chair
across from me
I don’t flinch at its laughter
nor the heckling hums of my refrigerator
I looked at Grandfather with Lois Lane eyes
longing for intervention
tock
tick…
tock…
tick….

 

Click-clack goes the door
Boom-boom goes my heart
Creak-crack goes the floor
and after a time capsule of silence
CRUNCH goes the maracujá
and her blood
down the sides of my wrist.

 

 

Poem (not pictures) © Copyright 2012 by Arose N Daghetto for Black Girl Down Publications. All Rights Reserved.

SAMBA: A BRAZILIAN AND INTERNATIONAL PHENOMENON© 

By Arose N Daghetto

 

Did you know that Samba music and its dance was created by African slaves who migrated to the city of Salvador, Brazil, which is one of if not the largest population of Afro Brazilians?  Samba is of several success story to come out of the African diaspora, for it is a culture that’s taken Brazil and the world by storm.

 

Samba came from humble beginnings, tracing back to the Salvador, Brazil.  The city of Salvador is also known as Bahia (which means, “Bay” and is also called “The Bay of All Saints”,  a place where not only Samba was born, but a place where Orixas and Candomblé religions were born.  These religions are rich in Congolese, Yoruba, Togo, Nigerian, Ghanaian and Benin cultural influences from Africa.  This is also where many of the African Slaves came from and this area of Brazil is one of the first places all African slaves were brought to before being dispersed to different parts of the South, Central and North America.

 

Salvador is also the birthplace of the famous Capoeira, which is a martial arts that combines dance and music. Capoeira was originally a self-defense mechanism the African slaves practiced to use against their slave masters. Capoeira was used by African warriors to prepare for war against rival tribes. Having such captured warriors among the community of slaves, they secretly used these moves to train one another for combat and protection. Capoeira involves kicks, head butting, acrobatics, leg sweeps, slapping, elbowing, punches all incorporated in dance. 

 

Whenever the slave masters questioned their act, they explained it was simple form of dance and celebrating with each other. It didn’t take much to convince their masters how innocent and harmless the dance was. Perhaps to each other, who probably endured a few scrapes and bruises in their “harmless” dance.  

 

Brazil continues to have highest population of African descendants, most of them live in lower middle class communities or Favelas, which is like African Americans who live the inner city, to put in a nice way or ghettos, to put in a not so nice way.  

 

Afro Brazilian singer, Gilberto Gil once said in an interview that Afro Brazilians knew more about their African identity than those of African Americans, because done so well in preserving their cultural and religious identity.  Slavery in Brazil had much more of an upper hand over their slave masters because they outnumbered their oppressors over time and was able to gain control over their freedom better than those African Slaves that populated the south-eastern regions of the United States.  That’s a fascination discussion that I will have to get into further detail on in another blog.

 

Anyway Getting back to Samba music, other cultural influences helped to greatly diversify the Samba identity in Brazil such as the descendants of Portuguese, Spanish Italian and Native American.  Today, there are many sub styles of Samba music, you got Jazz samba, rock samba, Samba R&B Samba, reggae Samba, hip hop Samba.  The music is undeniably a euphoric experience. You can see the joy on the musicians faces as they work up a sweat beating those various percussions and strumming those various sized guitars. The singers are smiling, laughing, hypnotized by the intense rhythms and lyrics.  It’s always a party anytime you hear the Samba.  Even sad sambas makes you want to get up and dance!  Samba is the antidepressant to the most depressed soul and hope to the pessimist. 

 

As time and generations evolve, Samba takes on new and different faces in the music genre.  In the more current decades, many Brazilians express their dislike for Samba music, claiming it’s old and out with the times. Kinda like Americans were with Disco music back in the late 1970’s.  Nevertheless, the number of those who love Samba music is outnumbered in the nation and many artists work hard to keep the beauty of this music genre very much alive.  Samba schools have been established to teach people about Samba music, dance, and culture.

 

Samba has long been enjoyed by not only Brazilian natives, but Americans, French, Caribbeans, Germans and others around the world.  Samba remains to be the Face of Brazil’s attractive and sensuous identity. So whenever you’re feeling sad and can use a little pick-me-up, or if you feel like listening to something culturally invigorating, pull up a Samba or Bossa playlist on your Pandora radio.  Once you listen to it, you will never look at music the same again!

 

Article (not pictures) © Copyright 2012 by Arose N Daghetto for Black Girl Down Publications. All Rights Reserved.

 

RETRIBUTION FOR THE OLD©

                          ~Written by: Arose N Daghetto

 

Jamaican me not

Rastafar I ain’t

Carib be not in me

Not by friendship

love

passion 

or relation.

 

 

Nah mon

No ire in me

Me African American

The one you call lazy

 Motivational-less

Anti American

who’s allergic to work,

responsibility

and positivity.

 

 

The African American you see

by the dawn’s early light

to be some babylonian ho

that’s good enough to go into

but not good enough

to bare the seed of life from

based on your so-called

I in I conspiracy theories

 

Who the fuck are you

to demote me from humanity

 like a hemorroid on the assinine

I gave you love

You gave me pain

Threw dirt in my face

and prayed me to shame

at the hands of your almighty Jah…

 

What happened to Jah Not Dead?

Have you forgotten

the meaning of the song mr. priesthood?

They try to kill the black population…

I thought “they” were the caucasian

not the diasporic African nation.

 

I wasn’t born in the West Indies

or in Haiti

I’m not from Trinidad or Tobago

I’m not the Boriqua sista

from the isle of Puerto Rico

I’m not the girl from Impenema

Or some moça in the favelas of Brazil

But African blood runs in my veins

as in theirs and in yours

so why throw rocks at me,

your distant cousin?

 

Why is it that these people know more

about being poor but noble

and all I know

is how to be poor and stay poor…

according to you.

Is Jah dead to me but not dead to you,

tongue killer of the black population?

 

Guess Im not good enough

to sit on the same rock as you

and pass the dutchie

while we speak Marleynese

How dare you look down your nose

at me

Leaving me in the poverty

and the one love

I thought we shared together

I see how you continue

to move up in the world

with your same blooded bride

who you feel is more qualified

to be the woman

you SWORE to everyone you knew

I could never be…

 

You live the life of champions

with your lactating skeeze

unrighteously at your side

while I eat the breakfast of champions

off the breast milk of a cow

headed to slaughter

with no sugar on top…

While you fight to stay

in your posh New York neighborhood

rubbing elbows with the elite

with your little Jr. in tow

I continue the fight the den of lions

in the dust you left behind…

 

You said I’m a miserable person

but you made me miserable

How can a righteous man

drag a pure woman down

under the ground

only you can answer that,

since you claim to be 

the Twelfth Tribe of Benjamin…

 

You played lightening

by raising your hand

to strike me down

You tore down everything

that took me 22 years to build

You walked out on me

while I crawled behind you

on my hands and knees

begging in tears

before you filled my lungs

and my vision

with the smoke

of your screaming tires.

Then you come back 

some dozen years later

to finish where you left off,

verbally assaulting me

trying to bring me back in the day…

And I’m the one to look down upon,

the so-called lazy, irresponsible

African American woman

you’ve been told

to date but never marry?

 

I’m sorry, who the fuck are you again?

 

They don’t need to try and kill

the black population

the black population is already dying…

the African

in the American me is dying…

my womb,

the source of life

and the throne of womanhood

is dying…

My faith spills like blood

on the ground.

Love is the killer.

Jah heard the laughter of my enemy

and took from me

to give to him

the desires of his heart.

To me…

Jah is dead.

 

 

Poem (not picture) © Copyright 2012 by Arose N Daghetto for Quiet Storm Enterprise. All Rights Reserved.

Brasil By Arose N Daghetto

BRASIL©

      ~escrito por Arose N Daghetto

 

Eu conheço você

eu sei suas cores

seu beira-mar

eu sei sobre o seu bahia preciosidade

o seus bairros chiques

suas favelas dos guerreiros

seus gringos

e suas marias da feira

 

Eu sei suas gataos

e suas gostosas

eu sei seus garanhãos

e suas bonecas

e suas galinhas

 

Eu sei seu pulsação

eu sei que te impulsa 

eu sei que te faz cantar 

e o que te faz chorar

eu sei seus legados 

seus dores

e seu paz

 

Eu conheço tudo de você

eu viví por meio do sua alma

pensei com sua mente

ví através de seus olhos

beijou com o seus labios

 

Joguei os ritmos

com suas palmas

e fiz amor a música

com seu corpo

eu cantado histórias da velha

com seu voz

e amei muitos

com seu coração

 

Sim eu conheço você

ainda que meus pés nunca tocaram

suas areias

minhas costas nunca bloqueou

suas ondas

minha pele nunca foi beijado

por seu sol

meu cabelo nunca foi batizado

por sua cachoeira seu aguaceiro

 

Eu sei você

me sinto de você infinitamente

embora na verdade

nós nunca nos conhecemos.

  

Poema (não a fotografia abaixo)  © Copirraite 2012 por Quiet Storm Enterprises. Todos os direitos reservados.

  

_______________________________

  

BRAZIL©

       ~Written by Arose N Daghetto

  

I know you

I know your colors

your seasides

your treasured Bahia

I know your fancy neighborhoods

your ghettos of warriors

your out of towners

your marias of the marketplace

 

I know your eligible bachelors

and your sexy ladies

I know your Cassanovas

your trophy wives

and your loose women

 

I know your heartbeat

I know what drives you

I know what makes you sing

what makes you cry 

I know your legends

your sorrows

and your peace

 

I know all about you

I lived through your spirit

I thought with your mind

I saw through your eyes

I kissed with your lips

 

I played rhythms with your palms

made love to music with your body

sung the stories of old with your voice

and loved many with your heart

 

Yes, I know you

though my feet never touched your sands

my back has never blocked your waves

my skin’s never been kissed by your sun

my hair has never been baptized by your rainfall

 

I know you

I feel you infinitely

although in truth

we never met.

  

Poem (not picture below) © Copyright 2012 by Arose N Daghetto for Quiet Storm Enterprise. All Rights Reserved.

 

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