Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead)
Ahavati
Tams
Forum Posts: 16575
Tams
Tyrant of Words
122
Joined 11th Apr 2015Forum Posts: 16575
Poetry Contest Description
Day of the Dead - See below.
Guidelines:
1. Describe your opinion and/or experience regarding this observation. This can be literal or imaginary. For example, how you would like to observe but have not had the opportunity.
2. Write from the perspective of a dead soul rejoining their family. What would you say to your loved ones?
Rules:
• From the above guideline topics, you may enter ONE poem for EACH topic.
• List which topic you've chosen for which poem in the author's note.
• New writes only.
• Spoken word permitted.
• Visual entries permitted ( keep in mind that the more words you use for a visual the more difficult it will be to read. Not being able to easily read it will be a deal-breaker. ).
• Let's limit this to around 150 words ( I mean if it's 160 I'm not going to disqualify you ).
I will be selecting the Winners. Best of luck to each of you. More information below.
The Day of the Dead (el Día de los Muertos), is a Mexican holiday where families welcome back the souls of their deceased relatives for a brief reunion that includes food, drink and celebration.
A blend of Mesoamerican ritual, European religion and Spanish culture, the holiday is celebrated each year from October 31-November 2. While October 31 is Halloween, November 2 is All Souls Day or the Day of the Dead. According to tradition, the gates of heaven are opened at midnight on October 31 and the spirits of children can rejoin their families for 24 hours. The spirits of adults can do the same on November 2.
According to Mexicans, the Way to Mictlán (Place of the Dead) was a four-year crossing that the dead should make; it consisted of going through nine levels full of obstacles to finally free themselves from their tonalli, their soul, and achieve the longed rest. This course didn't distinguish social classes.
Read more here: https://www.history.com/topics/halloween/day-of-the-dead#How%20Is%20The%20Day%20of%20The%20Dead%20celebrated?
Ahavati
Tams
Forum Posts: 16575
Tams
Tyrant of Words
122
Joined 11th Apr 2015Forum Posts: 16575
Crucifix & Candlelight
In the necropolis
there is no life after sundown
Branches weigh heavy
with its slumber
Here at the ofrenda
we wait for the heart of it
amid sugar skulls
and old photographs
Course salt laid out as a cross
to purify and cleanse
providing courage to remain
and alter a memory
This is the part where we tread
gently, knowing the past is present
camouflaged in the thick space
of enveloping incense
wafting specters, shape shifting
within the lobes of our lungs
Some cannot imagine what we do
To them, it’s a horror movie
set in the cemetery at night
relying on a false sense of safety
by crucifix and candlelight
tamales and Corona with lime
But memories are altered that way
not by vigilance at a grave
No, altering memory is not a game
nor a returning spirit, screaming
the history of our mistakes
It's a homecoming rending the veil
and we're waiting for the meat of it:
A return to peace through presence
as though we never lost it
It's making amends with Death
the dark Archangel of mystery
presenting a bowl of cherries
Their boney pits wielding power
to poison us
The wise chew slowly, savoring
Azrael's offering, swallowing
the flesh, commending the bones
back unto the Earth
How else can we learn
that something so sweet
at heart is a bitterly tart truth
resembling a blood offering
pooling between our lips
And we give thanks
there is no life after sundown
Branches weigh heavy
with its slumber
Here at the ofrenda
we wait for the heart of it
amid sugar skulls
and old photographs
Course salt laid out as a cross
to purify and cleanse
providing courage to remain
and alter a memory
This is the part where we tread
gently, knowing the past is present
camouflaged in the thick space
of enveloping incense
wafting specters, shape shifting
within the lobes of our lungs
Some cannot imagine what we do
To them, it’s a horror movie
set in the cemetery at night
relying on a false sense of safety
by crucifix and candlelight
tamales and Corona with lime
But memories are altered that way
not by vigilance at a grave
No, altering memory is not a game
nor a returning spirit, screaming
the history of our mistakes
It's a homecoming rending the veil
and we're waiting for the meat of it:
A return to peace through presence
as though we never lost it
It's making amends with Death
the dark Archangel of mystery
presenting a bowl of cherries
Their boney pits wielding power
to poison us
The wise chew slowly, savoring
Azrael's offering, swallowing
the flesh, commending the bones
back unto the Earth
How else can we learn
that something so sweet
at heart is a bitterly tart truth
resembling a blood offering
pooling between our lips
And we give thanks
Written by Ahavati
(Tams)
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Prompt No 1. Not an entry.
crimsin
Unveiling
Forum Posts: 2649
Unveiling
Tyrant of Words
124
Joined 25th Jan 2011 Forum Posts: 2649
Mama
I prepare the way open all channels an offering on the table
some salt to guard against wayward souls
my loved one is journeying from the netherworld
it is a difficult journey I bid she come to greet me for the last time
it is my will she be free in the eternal
some tequila should open the portal
as I sit among the tombs
listening to music
my own soul wanders
rising as smoke full of memories
the incense in the air is heady
it twirls with my being and I rise
I can see them my ancestors
traversing the immortal river that separates the living from the dead
singing songs of joy
they cross into the mortal realm
I can sense my mother's presence
I can feel her inside me
giving of her essence
I can smell her tamales
and some jasmine on the wind
I am transported to when I was a child
sitting in the rows of corn with her
picking the ears, separating silk from the corn
to pound it into maze later
the days were long, it was so hot
she would sing to me at night while bathing
she would cleanse the day's dirt away
and shoulder all my pain
my tummy full
I felt instantly lifted
it is a celebration of death
I toasted my mama
cross myself as she departs
tears streak my face
I feel renewed
she is at peace
she is a part of me
she gifted me all I ever need
some salt to guard against wayward souls
my loved one is journeying from the netherworld
it is a difficult journey I bid she come to greet me for the last time
it is my will she be free in the eternal
some tequila should open the portal
as I sit among the tombs
listening to music
my own soul wanders
rising as smoke full of memories
the incense in the air is heady
it twirls with my being and I rise
I can see them my ancestors
traversing the immortal river that separates the living from the dead
singing songs of joy
they cross into the mortal realm
I can sense my mother's presence
I can feel her inside me
giving of her essence
I can smell her tamales
and some jasmine on the wind
I am transported to when I was a child
sitting in the rows of corn with her
picking the ears, separating silk from the corn
to pound it into maze later
the days were long, it was so hot
she would sing to me at night while bathing
she would cleanse the day's dirt away
and shoulder all my pain
my tummy full
I felt instantly lifted
it is a celebration of death
I toasted my mama
cross myself as she departs
tears streak my face
I feel renewed
she is at peace
she is a part of me
she gifted me all I ever need
Written by crimsin
(Unveiling)
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Ahavati
Tams
Forum Posts: 16575
Tams
Tyrant of Words
122
Joined 11th Apr 2015Forum Posts: 16575
Thank you for kicking us off, Brenda. Excellent entry.
Ahavati
Tams
Forum Posts: 16575
Tams
Tyrant of Words
122
Joined 11th Apr 2015Forum Posts: 16575
The Definition of Love
“Are you at peace?”
It’s not far-fetched of you to ask me
in your prayers each night
and thoughts each day
The much-known concept of lives
swallowed by the living each year
Firstly, when we are physically birthed
and slapped into breath;
secondly, when we wake to purpose
and life slaps us into a vessel
for something greater than ourselves
The lesser-known concept
of two deaths is fully understood
on this side of the veil
Firstly, when our physical being
relinquishes the ghost for ash;
secondly, when our name passes
between someone’s lips
or thoughts for the very last time
In the final moments of life
silent oaths are made
within the mind to somehow
let loved ones know
we are safe
Yes, I am at peace
Darkness has not swallowed me
Each year, this resurrection
this annual conjuring of presence
makes itself known
These cycles summon me by name
the ofrenda and invocations
of Dia de los Muertos
keep my memory alive
and guide me home
Each moment my name is spoken
a rebirth occurs
from a history not forgotten
So, mi amor
peace isn’t the issue
that's not what you want to know
The issue is not knowing where I've gone
wondering if the grave you’re lying on
is a steppingstone of heaven
or a stairwell into the dark
It’s falling into the falsity
that allows death to steal hope
from a living soul
Yes, I am at peace
You have not let me die
that second death
And that . . .
that is the definition of Love
It’s not far-fetched of you to ask me
in your prayers each night
and thoughts each day
The much-known concept of lives
swallowed by the living each year
Firstly, when we are physically birthed
and slapped into breath;
secondly, when we wake to purpose
and life slaps us into a vessel
for something greater than ourselves
The lesser-known concept
of two deaths is fully understood
on this side of the veil
Firstly, when our physical being
relinquishes the ghost for ash;
secondly, when our name passes
between someone’s lips
or thoughts for the very last time
In the final moments of life
silent oaths are made
within the mind to somehow
let loved ones know
we are safe
Yes, I am at peace
Darkness has not swallowed me
Each year, this resurrection
this annual conjuring of presence
makes itself known
These cycles summon me by name
the ofrenda and invocations
of Dia de los Muertos
keep my memory alive
and guide me home
Each moment my name is spoken
a rebirth occurs
from a history not forgotten
So, mi amor
peace isn’t the issue
that's not what you want to know
The issue is not knowing where I've gone
wondering if the grave you’re lying on
is a steppingstone of heaven
or a stairwell into the dark
It’s falling into the falsity
that allows death to steal hope
from a living soul
Yes, I am at peace
You have not let me die
that second death
And that . . .
that is the definition of Love
Written by Ahavati
(Tams)
Go To Page
Prompt 2, not an entry.
Jezkeebs
Forum Posts: 13
Twisted Dreamer
1
Joined 26th Dec 2019Forum Posts: 13
Awakening
Offering of souls to the days old
Seeing scars writ on memories
Cigar lamentations drawn down cold
Smoke blown over red ripe berries
Paper thin silhouettes slowly dance
Shadow faces back lit with moonlight
Draped showers pulled back In a trance
Saluting lovers on nights lonely flight
God's are wrong to tread so carefully
Tied to an image frayed ragged edges
Hall's cobweb decoration walk wordlessly
Summoned to awaken infinity bridges
Arise o mentor of the earth
Take thou sip of eternal breath
Seeing scars writ on memories
Cigar lamentations drawn down cold
Smoke blown over red ripe berries
Paper thin silhouettes slowly dance
Shadow faces back lit with moonlight
Draped showers pulled back In a trance
Saluting lovers on nights lonely flight
God's are wrong to tread so carefully
Tied to an image frayed ragged edges
Hall's cobweb decoration walk wordlessly
Summoned to awaken infinity bridges
Arise o mentor of the earth
Take thou sip of eternal breath
Written by Jezkeebs
Go To Page
Jordan
D.O.C.
Forum Posts: 245
D.O.C.
Thought Provoker
13
Joined 4th May 2022Forum Posts: 245
Espíritus a los espíritus
*
El Día de los Muertos los espíritus piden mezcal
en un intento infernal de levantarles la moral.
*
El Día de los Muertos los espíritus piden mezcal
en un intento infernal de levantarles la moral.
*
Written by Jordan
(D.O.C.)
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Ahavati
Tams
Forum Posts: 16575
Tams
Tyrant of Words
122
Joined 11th Apr 2015Forum Posts: 16575
Jezkeebs and Jordan, thank you for your entries. Enjoyed reading them.
Dre_k47
AnDre James
Forum Posts: 42
AnDre James
Thought Provoker
5
Joined 18th Dec 2013Forum Posts: 42
The Day of the Dead
I returned to see a feast, a lively, spectral scene,
Bread baskets, bouquets, and family gathered in between.
Some I never thought to see, in this ethereal sphere,
A reunion of souls departed, a moment crystal clear.
There stood my uncle, the one with insurance plans,
Now living large, a glimpse of wealth in his hands.
My mother too, she shone with grace and pride,
My brothers, sisters, everyone on this spirited ride.
Life after my passing, they embraced a newfound boon,
The insurance lump sum, it changed their fortune's tune.
I couldn't touch or hold them, as I wished I could do,
But from my vantage point, their joy and success I knew.
I watched them from the shadows, my heart filled with delight,
My family, my beloved, though words can't convey it right.
In this realm beyond the living, my emotions ebb and flow,
I am content for them, in this ephemeral afterglow.
Not in a loving way for some, perhaps, but love remains,
A connection that transcends, as our spirits break their chains.
In this surreal day of the dead, I find solace and peace,
As love endures beyond the living, where all our troubles cease.
Bread baskets, bouquets, and family gathered in between.
Some I never thought to see, in this ethereal sphere,
A reunion of souls departed, a moment crystal clear.
There stood my uncle, the one with insurance plans,
Now living large, a glimpse of wealth in his hands.
My mother too, she shone with grace and pride,
My brothers, sisters, everyone on this spirited ride.
Life after my passing, they embraced a newfound boon,
The insurance lump sum, it changed their fortune's tune.
I couldn't touch or hold them, as I wished I could do,
But from my vantage point, their joy and success I knew.
I watched them from the shadows, my heart filled with delight,
My family, my beloved, though words can't convey it right.
In this realm beyond the living, my emotions ebb and flow,
I am content for them, in this ephemeral afterglow.
Not in a loving way for some, perhaps, but love remains,
A connection that transcends, as our spirits break their chains.
In this surreal day of the dead, I find solace and peace,
As love endures beyond the living, where all our troubles cease.
Written by Dre_k47
(AnDre James)
Go To Page
Ahavati
Tams
Forum Posts: 16575
Tams
Tyrant of Words
122
Joined 11th Apr 2015Forum Posts: 16575
Thank you for your entry, Dre_k47. Enjoyed reading it.
slipalong
Forum Posts: 847
Dangerous Mind
41
Joined 1st Jan 2018Forum Posts: 847
Returned by love
A photo in a silver frame
as from the grave, find a spirit raised
the joy that sat within my bones
the welcome that was ever home
Sweet candy cane the kisses missed
music be the need to speak
for grief its temperance is seeped
break its grip, when each should meet
A bowl of fruit, was life at best
to perish and yet to refresh
was born to rot and root again
as relatives, hold each sustained
The drift of incense, comfort come
to dance to see each new born one
and know departing`s gallows are
relit candles, of veiled emotions charred
Join the march to brief mortality
bright pennants flutter, like the heart that greets
deep conversations without banality
for that time, its hours be ever brief
When newly weds, fate intervenes
white dressed bride with broken dreams
one day return, to reunite
love its power, the amber flowers delight
Boquets to bear the spirit up
as from the soil in flame erupts
mute sorrow changed to festival
table set to welcome all
To replay the headstones words
leave the soil loose, to be disturbed
my corpse wont lie and ever bide
death cant break loves knot, that`s tied
as from the grave, find a spirit raised
the joy that sat within my bones
the welcome that was ever home
Sweet candy cane the kisses missed
music be the need to speak
for grief its temperance is seeped
break its grip, when each should meet
A bowl of fruit, was life at best
to perish and yet to refresh
was born to rot and root again
as relatives, hold each sustained
The drift of incense, comfort come
to dance to see each new born one
and know departing`s gallows are
relit candles, of veiled emotions charred
Join the march to brief mortality
bright pennants flutter, like the heart that greets
deep conversations without banality
for that time, its hours be ever brief
When newly weds, fate intervenes
white dressed bride with broken dreams
one day return, to reunite
love its power, the amber flowers delight
Boquets to bear the spirit up
as from the soil in flame erupts
mute sorrow changed to festival
table set to welcome all
To replay the headstones words
leave the soil loose, to be disturbed
my corpse wont lie and ever bide
death cant break loves knot, that`s tied
Written by slipalong
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Ahavati
Tams
Forum Posts: 16575
Tams
Tyrant of Words
122
Joined 11th Apr 2015Forum Posts: 16575
Thank you for such a wonderful entry, Slip. Best of luck in the judging.
wallyroo92
Forum Posts: 1853
Tyrant of Words
153
Joined 11th July 2012Forum Posts: 1853
Sugar Skull House
When I got to the bathroom there’s a sugar skull staring at me
Or if I’m cooking and grab a towel, another is there to dry my hands
Whether I walk in the hallway, sit in my living room or type at my desk
Hanging on the walls or on my bed, sugar skulls are everywhere
My house is a tribute to the dead
All year round like a station downtown where the train is about to leave
And when our ancestors visit us in dreams
We share the memory and stories of those we once grieved
For my wife’s grandfather, they had birthday parties on Halloween
For her grandmother, there are crosses and elephant decorations
The shelf next to our bedroom is filled with more trinkets
The little reminders passed down to from generation to generation
For my pops, every year a beer
I like to reminisce and remember the old times
We know they never really left us
They just transcended into our hearts and minds
Although el Dia de los Muertos may be celebrated once a year
My house is always decorated in sugar skulls thanks to my wife
It’s a remembrance of those who have crossed the bridge
Because around here, everyday is Day of the Dead in my life
Or if I’m cooking and grab a towel, another is there to dry my hands
Whether I walk in the hallway, sit in my living room or type at my desk
Hanging on the walls or on my bed, sugar skulls are everywhere
My house is a tribute to the dead
All year round like a station downtown where the train is about to leave
And when our ancestors visit us in dreams
We share the memory and stories of those we once grieved
For my wife’s grandfather, they had birthday parties on Halloween
For her grandmother, there are crosses and elephant decorations
The shelf next to our bedroom is filled with more trinkets
The little reminders passed down to from generation to generation
For my pops, every year a beer
I like to reminisce and remember the old times
We know they never really left us
They just transcended into our hearts and minds
Although el Dia de los Muertos may be celebrated once a year
My house is always decorated in sugar skulls thanks to my wife
It’s a remembrance of those who have crossed the bridge
Because around here, everyday is Day of the Dead in my life
Written by wallyroo92
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Ahavati
Tams
Forum Posts: 16575
Tams
Tyrant of Words
122
Joined 11th Apr 2015Forum Posts: 16575
Fabulous entry, Wally! Thanks for participating.
wallyroo92
Forum Posts: 1853
Tyrant of Words
153
Joined 11th July 2012Forum Posts: 1853
From Across the Bridge
Love and thoughts have power beyond the physical realm
They call to us with a spiritual and emotional connection
Because in the land of the living, while they cry and grieve
Those of us from across the bridge still feel their affection
Sometimes their prayers sound like distant echoes and questions
While those of us from across the bridge smile at their supplications
Wishing that they would adhere to our old advice and suggestions
Hoping they share our stories and lessons with the new generations
From across the great void sometimes we hear about their pain
And with love we always wish we could take away the suffering
But once a year when they open that beautiful rainbow bridge
We walk amongst them enjoying all the wonderful offerings
And it’s there on that night when our spirits come together
When I see the loves of my life gathered remembering our time
And they pull out pieces of paper and other notes I wrote
Hearing them laugh at the poetry and words I left behind
I’ll come to you in dreams or in short flashes of memory
Or if my picture falls off from the magnet on the fridge
I’ll be there in songs or in a rhyme that reminds you of me
Just remember I love you,
Sincerely,
Me
From across the bridge
They call to us with a spiritual and emotional connection
Because in the land of the living, while they cry and grieve
Those of us from across the bridge still feel their affection
Sometimes their prayers sound like distant echoes and questions
While those of us from across the bridge smile at their supplications
Wishing that they would adhere to our old advice and suggestions
Hoping they share our stories and lessons with the new generations
From across the great void sometimes we hear about their pain
And with love we always wish we could take away the suffering
But once a year when they open that beautiful rainbow bridge
We walk amongst them enjoying all the wonderful offerings
And it’s there on that night when our spirits come together
When I see the loves of my life gathered remembering our time
And they pull out pieces of paper and other notes I wrote
Hearing them laugh at the poetry and words I left behind
I’ll come to you in dreams or in short flashes of memory
Or if my picture falls off from the magnet on the fridge
I’ll be there in songs or in a rhyme that reminds you of me
Just remember I love you,
Sincerely,
Me
From across the bridge
Written by wallyroo92
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