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WHIRLPOOL by Jai Maa (Lacey Nagy)

Have you faced your darkest hour?


"The autumn equinox is behind us, and here, in the Northern Hemisphere, it is that time of year when darkness grows, trees let go of their leaves and the earth prepares for hibernation. As we notice that the sun is becoming more sluggish to rise and quicker to set each day, some of us may also feel that inward pull of the season and the need to let go of those things which no longer serve us.
For many, going within can bring us face to face with those things we are most scared of. 

'The Stranger' by Paree Erica
Across the ages, this darker time of year has inspired humankind to be mindful of what we would normally fear or avoid, as we find courage to dance with our own figurative goblins, ghosts, demons and even death.

What this translates into for each of us will be very unique. For some, it may mean revisiting the darkest times in our lives, times when we felt the most lost, or abused, or destructive, or alone, and making peace with them. This will often naturally give rise to fervent prayer.

The following poem illuminates a soul’s intense dance with darkness and her very emotional dialogue with God as she moves through hurt, shame, hopelessness, rage, doubt, abandonment, powerlessness, and finally prayer, forgiveness and healing. 

*This Spoken Word poem surrounds the author’s own experience of rape, so I would caution any readers that may be vulnerable to triggers going off.*

As the statistics show that an alarming number of women have been victims of sexual assault, healing from rape inevitably becomes an essential, and very empowering juncture upon the spiritual paths of many women. 

Breaking the silence is a critical part of this healing, as the author courageously does here today. For this reason I offer you this poem today, so that it may catalyze further healing, as we enter bravely into the darkness together."

Jai Maa (Lacey Nagy)

Whirlpool is a poem representing the alchemy of healing myself from rape...

I started partying at an early age but I had big dreams I wanted to accomplish. So I stopped partying, moved to another city, started college, gained a full paid scholarship for acting, worked two jobs, and on my free time I volunteered for the local high school as a diving instructor for the school’s swim team.

I went from sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll to having that cookie-cutter little miss perfect lifestyle.

Life was overwhelming though and I felt little to no space for stress release. So, I stumbled into an addictive substance, which led me into a hellish lifestyle that made me vulnerable. 

I had no idea what doorway I had just walked through. I walked right into hell... a place I call “Zombie Land.”

In this land I was raped. I was barely eighteen. And I didn’t make it out of that dimension for almost two years. 

 I lost both jobs in one weekend, stopped volunteering for the high school, lost my scholarship, car, apartment, and everything that mattered to me. My self-esteem vanished and I felt like the most undeserving walking dead girl on the planet. 

 (Click play to hear an emotionally-charged, powerful recitation by the author)
~Trigger warning: poem contains lyrical imagery and intense emotions related to rape~

She reeked of sex
Came home at 3:30 in the afternoon
Went straight to her room
And collapsed Indian style in front of the mirror
It was difficult to make her own eye contact
She hated herself
A shower will help

Pealing herself from the floor she zombie walked to the shower
Pealing off her memory clothes zombie she stepped into the
Pealing at the parasites on her skin where he touched her
Standing under
As stinging shower rain, she cleansed

Soap bubbles rolled off the silk of her skin
Now damaged, she damned him, she cleansed
Soap bubbles rolled off her open raw nipples
Sensitive and ripped from his nibbles she cleansed

She could smell him….leak from her
His saliva shinned like slime on her
The weight of the world hung itself on her shamed uterus now
     threatening to collapse and bleed from her

Sinking down the drain in a whirlpool of powerlessness and shame
Emptiness and pain
She’d never be the same

No! No!! NO!!!
She couldn’t stop him!
She scrambled for a word more powerful than NO!

NO! was not as strong as his sickness to take her
NO! was not as slick sounding rolling off the tip of her tongue the
     way sweat rolled off him and into her eye
NO! was not as demanding as each thrust slamming into the soft
     peach of her now poisoned nectar
NO! was the only thing he let her say
NO! was her crab limbs crawling backwards into yesterday
Bed board in her way, no!

No time to remember Bible verses, song hymns, hexes, chants,
     curses, frantic, she panicked
She’ll pray to any God who will listen
She’ll change her religion
How could the same God that said It loved her but wouldn’t save
     her forgive him?
Where was her Simon?
Who would move this cross for her?
Who would move him off her, she cleansed


She told him what happened
The officer replied…

“You were in the wrong part of town
Smoking the wrong kind of shit
This happens all the time
There is nothing I can do about it”

Sinking down the drain in a whirlpool of powerlessness and shame
Emptiness and pain
She’d never be the same
She prayed to God for Justice

It was not enough
She would find him
And repay him for his crime

God said, “Easy my child, vengeance is mine”
She said, I wish vengeance was mine!
Because I would hunt for and find him
Torture and split him like a rape victim’s hymen
Virgin and burnin’ like venom
Rip him to pieces
Let him die in his feces
Stop him
Glock-pop him
From ever hurting
Again, God said,
“You want to stop him? Pray for him.”

Sitting Indian style in the bathtub
Rocking herself to a concept
The human experience doesn’t seem to get

She only prayed for people she loved
And found comfort in and every right in hating him
It was he who deserved to suffer
But even though he wronged her
Hate would only make his demonic weakness stronger

God told her,
“I don’t expect you to be some martyr
But in order to fight a demon, you must push harder
And love is not a weapon he is equipped with
And not using it, is the embodiment, of your own imprisonment.
You come to Me and I heal your pain
I heal your pain
I heal your pain
But what if I told you his soul’s destiny
Was already in a whirlpool of powerlessness and shame
Emptiness and pain
And he will never change!
He will never change!
He will never change!
He will never change!
Unless someone….
Prays for him.”
(If you have been raped and need help please call 
the National Sexual Assault Hotline 1.800.656.HOPE(4673) Free. Confidential. 24/7. US residents)
Pictured is the author Jai Maa (Lacey Nagy)

Jai Maa: Formerly known as Lacey Nagy, is co-founder of Gainesville’s Third Eye Spoken Productions, an art and poetry event benefiting local non-profits and charities. While still in high school, Jai Maa published her first poem in the National Poetry Guild and soon thereafter became a spoken word artist. She is former Creative Director of Tampa’s Write Side Poets, Inc. where she and her team competed in state wide slam competitions, held open mic venues for teens and adults, and created poetry performance programs for a children’s theatrical camp. You can enjoy hearing Jai Maa’s poems in her debut album “Barely Exposed.” Jai Maa is currently an Inter-faith Minister, Life Coach, Hypnotherapist, and Enlightenment Facilitator teaching throughout Florida and is soon to publish her first book on the metaphysics behind obstacles and expanding consciousness. She has an insatiable thirst for cosmic adventure, soul freedom, and awakening the Goddess within. You may connect with her via her website here or on Facebook

~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~ 


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