Confessions of a Voudoo Queen

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Booksie Classic
A monologue based on Madame Laveau's story!

Madame Laveau is the renowned Voudoo Queen from New Orleans! She has captured the heart of Lousianna with her beauty, charm and power even though she is black.

Submitted: January 23, 2011

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Submitted: January 23, 2011



One person show
Voodoo Queen Marie Laveau
…. I did something yesterday… I poured my heart out, something I do not usually do especially to a crowd of thousands of people!
 I, the renowned Madame Laveau bared my heart to a crowd of strangers, some of them regular clients like Claudia (whose husband of two years still doesn’t know he is under a love spell). But still, I told them everything…
Although I did I stretch the truth towards the end because I was beginning to seem normal! Madame Laveau is not normal!
It was right after my first dance that summons the spirits and then this young man, who now that I think of it I should curse, asked a question, and it is not that I could ignore it, he asked it very loudly!
I used to wonder why I do what I do; it was a question that used to run through my mind the first few years as a voodoo woman. But that question slowly faded, actually a lot of things changed, one being that I now have a bad habit of speaking my self in third person…
Then the young man, who I do intend to curse, led me to discover my answer after 6 years… Marie Laveau who is capable of so much was made speechless in front of thousands of people!
So with no control over my mouth I started to talk…the spirits were obviously amused because they did not stop my babbling!
Stage dims… a new setting of scene!
It was the end of the day… I was ready to do what I do best…voodoo. I rushed into the dark alley and into my eerily dark room…put on my clothes…
Laveau has to be extravagant like her voodoo African ancestors,
On this day my breasts seem to have expanded…I was fond of large breasts, they add a sort of power to a woman.
… But my dress was about to pop …maybe it should be part of my act…blind men with my beautiful body…hahahahahaaa … Laveau is married and faithful…
My first costumer entered, a tall blond lady with sparkling green eyes and ughh . . . a perfect body . . . by her clothes she was obviously rich . . .I had a mind to turn her into a toad . . . if I stared at her long enough . . . but . . . no . . . Madam Laveau has integrity .I grinned and ushered her in, already becoming a Voodoo queen:
“Maman Laveau and the spirits acknowledge you…beautiful lady, sit.”
She sat down nervously and smile tentatively, perfect teeth…she could make a wonderful toad pet… I grinned my most frightening…and asked my routine question:
“What is it that Laveau can do for you . . .?”
It took her a while to say anything and in that time the spirits made me aware of how tight my dress was… I could barely breathe… curse the evil spirits!
Then she told me that… she wanted to charm a man into loving her… I tried not to look surprised.
Why would a stunning wealthy woman like her need force a man to fall for her… it could be done of course… nothing is too hard for Madame Laveau, but this woman was willing to consult voodoo for this man…
And in it that moment as lightning clapped, wind howled in the room and my button popped, it hit me…
That is how I ended up as a voodoo queen….
Men in all their forms from Christopher Columbus to my white father, to my dead husband (who I am proud to say still communicates with me), to my costumer’s desired lover.
Men… with their charms, humor, all they really want is to sleep with you and rob you of your sanity…
When I told the crowd this they gasped in surprise but didn’t dare say anything, after all I am the queen; the powerful the wonderful, queen.
Back to my foolish customer
“Lady before we begin you has to provide me with a certain something for this potion”
“… I will go get my cauldron first; it is actually my best friend, this big slimy black pot”
I brought in the cauldron but tried not to bend too much, my breasts seem to be expanding by the minute… or is the dress that is shrinking.
“..Don’t stare at IT!! It has a mind of its own it will drive you mad, only powerful people like me can gaze at it.”
It’s the Negro Medusa, hahaha, forgive my crudeness
As I add what is needed, which I mostly have, in your potion, oh wait... except for an important material that without it this thing I am making here will be useless… I need you to deliver me your desired lover’s… PENIS!
“Hahaha… I fool with you!”
I love my job
She looked at me desperately, wait a second, was she actually considering... no… this was a scary woman
While she gazed at me confused and desperate, I thought back on Christopher Columbus.
Oh yes him, the great stupid American hero… how I hate him in moments like these. How dare he get on that stupid ship if his!
 I have actually tried to communicate with him; the bastard probably thinks he is too good for me. Well none is too good for Marie Laveau.
But it is because of him I am in America not Africa. It is because of him I am here in Louisiana where I perform a sacred ritual dance every year.
First man that I will slap when the spirit take me to their world… stupid man
My costumer was still staring at me
“For spirit’s sake woman, I am joking around, there is nothing more I need, except maybe for a piece of hair of your lover, which I assume you have.”
“Ahh thank you… a brunet… those are especially easy to enchant…!”

''Love pure, and Love strong 
This love will past long 
Roses and candle light 
Love, Love, Come tonight.'
In the language of my ancestors… (it wasn't really.. just the language my husband had taught me)
''Upendo safi, na za nguvu
Upendo Hii itakuwa mwisho kwa muda mrefu
Maua na mwanga mshumaa
Upendo, Upendo, Njoni kwangu usiku wa leo. '
The potion turned violet and I stopped stirring captivated by my own power. The lady looked at me in question by I put a finger on my lip signaling her to keep quiet.
The room was quiet once again and I thought of my father.
The seducing, rapping bastard. I am a Métis, my mother is black and my father is white.
I know the story, my father raped my mother and she had me. Simple, short, painful...
I grew up without a father, but with a mother who raised to be creative and dutiful to God...
If only she could see me now...
My father contributed to who I am, because I have white blood in me, I am respected more than other black woman,
He is another man who paved my path to becoming a voodoo queen.
The potion is ready
“Lady we are set but you have to promise me that no one will be hurt over days, my days as a healer are during Sundays and Saturday.”
I gave her the potion… crazy lady
I am to act this out in front of a lot of people for my theatre work, so please critique and tell me if you like it !! 

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