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Down in the bayou where the mangroves grow
There's talk of black voodoo, like Marie Leveau
The Swamp Witch, is legend, she has magic so black
That those who have seen her, have never come back
There;s tales of the noises that come from the dark
Of werewolves and zombies as rough as the bark
The mangroves are sentinels, to where the magic resides
Where even a longboat has no room to glide
Bodies go missing from the graveyards most nights
And there's always a fog shading the fireflies lights
The Swamp Witch is ruler and Queen of this world
Where souls are all taken and spines can be curled
They say that she came here from Canadian lands
She was a metis they say, from the Western Tar Sands
A mystic by nature, a dark witch by blood
She lives deep in the swamp, protected by gators and mud
The gators respect her, they do as she bids
They keep watch on the waters, they're her reptillian kids
She keeps zombies as gendarmes, collecting bodies to turn
Just how black is her magic, no one can discern
The Swamp Witch is legend, she is as old as all time
The air in the bayou is as thick as the slime
The cajuns say voodoo is the core of her heart
They avoid fishing where the mangrove trees start
The Swamp Witch, a legend ? or is she truly the Queen
She's the Louisiana Witch, no one survives once she's seen.....
 May 2013 Christian HM
Bryn
Our bed is an ocean,
your body my boat.

Let us explore the sea of our sheets,
as I explore you.

Twisting, curling linens
and I curl into you.

Our bed is an ocean,
your body my boat.
 Apr 2013 Christian HM
A O'Dea
I hope to God I get another chance
After this life has served it's last
Just one go 'round isn't enough
To try every road I happen to pass

When we get to Heaven,
- I hope that Heaven is there
But just as much I need to have
An exit to earthbound stairs.

This life already has become a web
From all the chances I wanted to take
I couldn't leave well enough alone
So brace for the gossip at my wake

Maybe this isn't my first time out
Perhaps a challenge is what I asked?
It would explain the awkward hell I've raised
Out of these normal everyday tasks

I guess the challenge isn't over yet
since it appears I haven't died
So I might as well rough-it some more
There must be more out there to try...

If I do get another go
after this life start its decay
I hope that I can recall it well
I don't want my memories blown away

But maybe that is why we dream
those are fragments of days gone by
The petal stains of our previous lives
Pressed between the pages we live and die
Awake, awake my little Boy!
Thou wast thy Mother’s only joy:
Why dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep?
Awake! thy Father does thee keep.

“O, what land is the Land of Dreams?
What are its mountains, and what are its streams?
O Father, I saw my Mother there,
Among the lillies by waters fair.

Among the lambs clothed in white
She walked with her Thomas in sweet delight.
I wept for joy, like a dove I mourn—
O when shall I return again?”

Dear child, I also by pleasant streams
Have wandered all night in the Land of Dreams;
But though calm and warm the waters wide,
I could not get to the other side.

“Father, O Father, what do we here,
In this land of unbelief and fear?
The Land of Dreams is better far
Above the light of the Morning Star.”
 Apr 2013 Christian HM
Redshift
i didn't realize
that i could fight abuse
feed starving children
stop someone from smoking
heal someone of cancer
by sitting on my ***
and applying pressure to a button
on my $1,200 dollar
laptop
maybe i should devote
my entire facebook
to this cause
maybe i'll even
start a social media
revolution
i hope everyone takes note of the sarcasm. >.>

— The End —