#heritage

187 posts
  • madinah_writes 9w

    Shango (Yoruba language: Ṣàngó, also known as Changó or Xangô in Latin America; and as Jakuta or Badé) is an Orisha, a deity in Yoruba religion. Genealogically speaking, Shango is a royal ancestor of the Yoruba as he was the third Alaafin of the Oyo Kingdom prior to his posthumous deitification. Shango has numerous manifestations, including Airá, Agodo, Afonja, Lubé, and Obomin. He is known for his powerful axe. He is considered to be one of the most powerful rulers that Yorubaland as ever produced.



    03.10.2021

    /////




    Sango!
    The god of thunder.
    Fierce in mind and spirit.
    Man no one could inherit.
    If a lier swears in his name,
    Would get stuck to death.

    Sango!
    The god of thunder.
    Brass crown on his head,
    Double axe in his hands, a symbol of dread.

    Sango!
    The god of thunder.
    This eyes are burning fire
    His strength are in his words, just ease.
    A standing motto for justice.

    Sango!
    The god of thunder.
    The heart of boiling gold of deed.
    He's the joy for for which the innocent are freed.

    Sango!
    The god of thunder.
    Only the evil doers at night
    Face his merciless sight.
    The wicked during the day ,
    Are left speechless on what to say.

    Sango!
    The god of thunder.
    Cast them beatings of lightning and thunderstruck.
    There is no escape, for all evil is stuck.
    Sango of rights in equality,
    Dance to him in turns of virility.







    #myth #sango #yoruba #culture #nigeria #heritage #words #miraquill #wod #writersnetwork #writerscommunity #writersbay #hero #god #gods #thunder #lightning

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    Sango; the god of thunder

    ⚡️⚡
    ©madinah_writes

  • madinah_writes 12w

    Sing a song for me, my friend.
    A song that moves the soul to frenzy bend.
    A song of truth and tune of blues.
    Let me dance my best steps in the land of hues.
    The land against my feet,
    Play me a melodious beat.

    Sing a song for me, my friend.
    A song of our rich history, we could never lend.
    Sing a song to me, my dear.
    Let others join this dance without fear.
    Use the talking drums and rocky xylophones.
    Let me dance to the tunes in my new agbada, in the beats of our own.
    Let chiefsmen sit and listen to the drumsmen's beats.
    Let the Kings and Queens,
    Elders and citizens,
    Sit to withness our rich culture.
    Let is remind them of what history truly means.

    © Madinah_Writes



    #nigeria #home #africanpoetry #song #localsong #music #mirakee #miraquill #writwrsnetwork #writerscommunity ##localbeats #dance #royalty #myths #culture #heritage

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    Sing a song for me, my friend.
    A song that moves the soul to frenzy bend.
    A song of truth and tune of blues.
    Let me dance my best steps in the land of hues.
    The land against my feet,
    Play me a melodious beat.
    ©madinah_writes

  • candor_6 16w

    HERITAGE

    Your beautiful memories of your school and your self quotes,writings,books,diaries,strategies are your HERITAGE
    ©candor_6

  • poeticsky 26w

    #mirakee #writersnetwork #heritage # Imagery #pod
    Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments

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    Your biggest objective in life should always be to achieve thoughtlessness.
    I.e absolutely no thoughts in mind
    Make a ritual of always starting your day with meditation.
    It would start slowly , like for 2 minutes a day it would be possible to attain thoughtlessness,
    But it will slowly increase and so will your happiness.
    Be patient.
    IT'S ALL IN YOU, JUST UNRAVEL IT AND CONNECT WITH IT.

    ©poeticsky

  • bonitasarahbabu 27w

    From the beginning,
    I inherited the need to be perfect.
    Along with this,
    Self loathing was also inherited.
    My silence is another thing I've inherited,
    But it does not mean I will not fight.
    In my silence,
    My plans are made and committed.
    I hurt none physically,
    But hurt me once, and you raise my wrath.
    My heritage may have me quiet,
    But my demeanor shows you otherwise.
    ©bonitasarahbabu
    05/30/2021

  • silver_flakes 27w

    It's a bit late��but still... #heritage

    Euphoric Fantasy
    Coloured skys paint the milkyway
    Ushering darkness and forgetting light
    Drowning in sharp hues and dull greys
    Fly, higher than the Orion constellation
    Extend my wings above the floating whites
    Moonlight approaching with cool zephyr
    I exhale, breath the air that soothes and chokes
    My world a starry universe to gaze upon
    Half, full or quarter,silver brightness glows
    Brighter than the lightened street lamps
    I dance, under the glare of lamps amidst fireflies
    Twirling and floating, drifting towards a fate
    A fate unknown in the darkened alleys
    Sparked wires light the sky, electric sizzles
    None can hurt now, nor feel pain of loss
    Euphoria carries me on wings of fairy dust
    Glittering softness headed for paradise
    Call of the wind, voice of earth, breathing still
    Over the glowing shadows beckons fireworks
    Exploding lights lit the path to heaven's embrace
    Softly caressing bubbles of trapped smiles
    I release tense muscles and hidden fears
    Flowing high and low on purposeful waves
    My beloved heritage beckons,swift and true

    #flakeyy#heritage#fantasy#ceesreposts#yaminireads#julietscorner#mirakee#writersnetwork@mirakee@writersnetwork#pod

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    Euphoric Fantasy

    Dancing
    On waves of sweet symphony
    Musical
    Crescendo, decrescendo
    Drifting
    Towards a fate unknown
    Solace
    Beckons with hands of gold
    ©silver_flakes

  • kasishakespeare 27w

    Hidden behind THE STRIPES

    You would see an ant
    If you zoomed me from a distance
    But if you can come closer
    And microscope me inside
    You will encounter a mighty beast
    The look from my eyes
    That says a lot
    If one could look into my eyes
    Would see that free spirited young boy
    The spirit of warriors carried in
    In my blood line
    Yet who looks by optical eyes
    sees a cute and handsome
    young boy
    But I am a cheetah inside
    And I never loose my stripes

    © Kasi.shakespeare_49

  • inner_conflict 27w

    Freedom is not that we got in single day
    It's the struggles of millions of warriors
    Who even sacrifices their lives.

    Freedom is not just a word
    It is to free yourself from people
    Who treats you slave.

    Freedom is not so easy to gain
    It is in theirs constant fights and their
    Billions of blood stains.

    We are walking in the land
    Which seen thousands & thousands
    Of bloods.

    Don't waste the freedom
    You got to live .

    ©Inner_conflict
    #heritage #wod

    #heritage #wod

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    ~

    ©inner_conflict

  • aynex_poet 27w

    To Love

    Sometimes I get lost in what it means to love.Or maybe I have a different definition of what love is.To love is to grow,to learn from day to day interactions and become better at love.To love is to understand,to place your ego in a locked drawer,swallow the key, and try work things out with patience.To love is to support,to remain the bedrock that affirms the dreams of your lover,the glue that holds them together when they fail,and the shoulder that they can hold on to,to feel when things are not the way the should be.To love is to compromise,to know that what you want might not always be what your lover wants.To love is to be selfless,to take a step back now and then,and allow your lover to have their moment.To love,is to apologize,to accept your mistakes,and to scour the ends of the earth,for a way to make things right.This is how I know Love.
    ©aynex_poet

  • vijaylakhsmi 27w

    As i was stepping down the stairs
    The sun ray kissed my face

    I walked down
    And sat on the stones that carved beautifully

    I looked around the temples
    That built line by line

    By cutting stones in sharp
    It was amazing to see how they did

    As the wind touched my body
    The scenic beauty touched my heart and hold my eyes

    Every temple was telling a story
    And the statue of stone carved to see everybody

    People were coming and going
    And the heritage was talking to them

    How they left this beautiful gift for us
    To discover and protect it in any way

    This is how my heritage walk was ... a small piece of writing to explain my experiene.

    #mirakee #heritage #writersnetwork #pen #story #shortstory #heritagewalk #wod

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    My heitage walk

    ©vijaylakhsmi

  • gladly 27w

    Heritage

    I carry smile while going through the hardest time, My pillow knows my pain better than anyone.
    ©gladly

  • dhanak_meena 27w

    Heritage

    Long days, tougher are the tasks
    People around are with masks
    Difficult to recognize the faces
    Hard puzzles and no traces
    Holding myself tightly in storm
    Wild winds rushing to inform
    Carrying the baggage of courage
    Fireceness seen in body language
    Strength and esteem I inherit
    Prepared to face it and fight it .

    ©dhanak_meena

  • aaneesink 27w

    @mirakee @mirakeeworld @writersnetwork
    #heritage #wod

    As soon as she knew her
    Incessantly tried to mirror
    Her each behaviour
    Might be trying to become
    The replica of her mother
    Might be trying to incarnate
    her each distinct character
    Now, time has shown her
    The true facets
    Of being a mother..
    And she realized
    Each aspects of her behaviour
    Resembling to her beloved mother
    Traits never extinct with passing year
    Tend to remain dormant and inheritate
    Through the mystic meshwork wire
    From generation to generation
    And forever!
    Comprehending the sheer bonding
    Is quite complex and obscure
    What's the existence
    Of a daughter
    Without her adorable mother...
    ©aaneesink

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    Heritage

    Comprehending the sheer bonding
    Is quite complex and obscure
    What's the existence
    Of a daughter
    Without her adorable mother...
    ©aaneesink

  • tspradeeka 27w

    She is very HUMBLE...

    "She is very humble and modest. She is passionate for her parent's love, just as her mom!" Grandma is so excited to praise her before his parents.

    She looked at her mom unemotional and saw her serving tea and snacks to the guests.

    She sighed, looked straight and saw her reflection in the mirror. " May be grandma is right! Am passionate for my parent's love and so am dressed like a bride to be and sitting in front of a man, who am seeing for the first time."

    She smiled at all the new faces sitting in front of her.

    "Yet some people think, smiling face is happy face. Someone we love the most believes so, is when our pain gets doubled..."


    ©tspradeeka

  • miss_silentlyweird 27w

    The tool I use in writing is my pen of experiences and paper of emotions. It's my heritage— evidence of my history, a thing I inherited from my past and present self; ready to be handed as memories to my future self.

    —©miss_silentlyweird

    #heritage #tools
    #wod #pod #mirakee
    @mirakee
    Source ��: Canva

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    Experiences is curved within pen
    keeping in box of paper like precious heritage.
    ©miss_silentlyweird

  • veronica099_ 27w

    The Bravest

    It is a tale time-worn,
    of the Bravest, of the kindest,
    of the warriors, you never heard.
    It is a story which started long,
    For you and I, are tethered along.

    It is a legacy of bearing the unbearable,
    Of the tiny women,
    As they call lowly Handmaids,
    wrapping the Red Cage,
    They shrieked, they bled,
    they bore the unknown, innumerable.
    They ignored own entity,
    like a ghost, for decades.
    Only for us to be free holding all glee.

    This is a story of the women,
    who stood alone,
    in a Hall full of Fame,
    where the bravest stooped down,
    before the greatest moral claims.
    While one was stripped off,
    of the last piece of shame,
    The other made to ride
    the pyre to prove her morale.
    We hold the Rebellion in our veins.

    This is a story of those pariahs,
    who were silenced to appease,
    the hunger of the Beasts.
    These are the whores,
    choked in cubicles.
    They shrieked, implored.
    But the beasts endured.
    Yet these outcasts,
    put Kathak before lives,
    only to tell you the story
    in disguise.

    We manifest the Warriors,
    for these Bravest never gained,
    the usher of the glory,
    took endless blame.
    While some stayed in the folds,
    of yellow pages,
    Others are breathing still
    under the girdle for ages,
    upholding your pride of Heritage.
    ©veronica099_

  • thegreatpotato_ 27w

    My mistakes

    My heritage.
    Something that I have run away from my entire life.
    The mistakes of my ancestors now fall on my shoulders.
    I never made their mistakes, but now the blame has shifted to me.
    It breaks my heart to think that
    one day people will look at my children
    And all they'll think of is me
    ©thegreatpotato_

  • _astitva_ 27w

    !!Heritage of Elements!!

    Earth

    I inherited the trees of truthfulness
    Nurturing in the soil of sentiments
    Irrigated with the rain of realization
    Shedding the leaves of sorrows

    Fire

    I inherited the flames of fearlessness
    Igniting with sparks of solitude
    Stoked with the fuel of firmness
    Burning the barks of biases

    Water

    I inherited the stream of sympathy
    Oozing with babble of blessings
    Stimulated with the energy of emotions
    Rinsing the reflections of resentments

    Wind

    I inherited the zephyr of zeal
    Gushing with aroma of ardour
    Twirled with torque of turmoils
    Wafting the wastes of worries

    Space

    I inherited the planets of poetry
    Scintillating with stars of similes
    Manifested the moon of metaphors
    Preserving the polaris of positivity

    ©_astitva_

    #wod #heritage @writersnetwork @mirakee

    PS: Sorry, It's too late for the wod and also lame.

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    I inherited epigraphs from earth, fables from fire,
    word plays from water, wedge verses from wind, sestets from space completing the panorama of poesy.

    ©_astitva_

  • priyankagharte_ 27w

    I heritage

    If I' m marvelous then I heritage it from mother
    If I ' m cool thenni heritage it from water
    If I’m pure then I heritage it from fire
    If I’m free from boundations then I heritage it from breeze
    If I’m vast in myself to explore inside then I heritage it from sky
    If I can forgive then I heritage it from earth
    And if I can sprout a new life then I heritage it from nature
    Yes………….
    I owe everything to beautiful ,benovalenc and Fierce nature
    I heritage freedom , wiseness and a warriors essence from nature
    I heritage this life from the nature ….
    ©priyankagharte_

  • dew_drops 39w

    Those fine lines are filled with brunette clay Fingertips caress the uneven
    Textures and unfilled creaks
    Each of them whisper a mystery
    A mystery that turn it's mighty artistry
    Into a debris that narrates tails of destruction
    In those bricks were locked some secrets
    Whispers of delights and hidden smiles
    Clatter of pots and screeches of a pen
    Voice of a subtle brushstroke and a mist of faded of aromas and evanesce of scents
    Each of it was lost leisurely
    In an unknown moment of happiness
    In a deep void of unsaid gloominess
    Little by little a fragment collapsed
    Decay began from a mere lapse
    Each trespasser etched his tale
    Rumble of the needle made it frail
    It still stands still_ a lifeless sculpture
    It has not lost its worth but the essence
    It is still praised but for its stillness
    Despite it sings a silent melancholy
    It makes sense to only
    The ones who trace their hands
    On its textures and dried sand
    It carries the mighty culture and heritage
    It whispers the fables of rise and fall
    A confession of love and last few spells
    Await for the ones strayed in the past
    To fasten their steps until it lasts
    ©dew_drops
    @writersnetwork @mirakee
    #heritage #wod

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    Broken Wall

    It makes sense to only
    The ones who trace their hands
    On its textures and dried sand
    It whispers the fables
    of rise and fall
    A confession of love
    and last few spells
    Await for the ones
    strayed in the past
    To fasten their steps
    until it lasts
    ©dew_drops