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Payton Hayes Feb 2021
Anna
Red hair fell like fire
on her thin shoulders.
Her wide, open eyes, now
seemed sunken in, and sadness,
for a moment, lingered there.
This was her last night on earth.
She again, ran through the events
that took place earlier that night.
When she was with him, in the back
of the Impala.
Images of the car's windows glossed with a
sheen of steam, blazed across her mind.
A smile blazed across her face.
She thought of his smile and her own widened.
She thought of the way he touched her, so gently,
like a feather moving over her. The way he left kisses
in a trail across her skin. The way he held her, as if
nothing on the earth could ever take her away.
Not in that moment.
But there are more than the kind
and protecting angels in this world. There are
demons. But even so, worse are the angels that
have turned their backs on heaven and now
work for the forces of evil.
The angels that would tear their comrades
from this world.
The angels
among
the
demons.

Crowley
Black.
Black as dark as night.
Black as dark as the inner
reaches of the earth.
Black as dark as death itself.
Black like blood.
Red.
Red as deep as warm, copper veins.
Red as deep as magma beneath
the earth.
Red as deep as rage at the sign
of betrayal.
Red like smoke.
Twisted.
Splashes of agony and hatred and
remorse stained his tattered soul.
A true evil radiated from his
vessel. A crafty and
malicious essence raced through his veins.
But he was no Lucifer.
Somewhere, deep down,
there was still a man who
longed to be loved. A man
who longed to be forgiven of his cruel
mistakes in his past life. Deep down, there
was still a man who longed to come back to
the light.
In a world so dark as his, the only light was the fire,
which should have brought comfort, but only
brought pain.
Deep down, he liked the dark.

Mary
Hair like threads of spun gold
tangled around her face. She was fair with
bright blue eyes that held
hues as heavenly as the sun-beaten
sky.
Soft, angular cheekbones sloped gently
down, a tinge of pink, coloring them slightly.
Locks of her wavy hair met her shoulders
but beneath her fair
appearance, she was a
rough girl.
A hunter.
She had seen things most terrible in the world,
thinks that no one should ever see.
And still, he remained a
loving mother and a kind person
in spite of
her demons.

Sam
Echoes of a former friend
rang throughout his
conscious mind.
Mischievous and
sinister laughter danced
around in his head like demons
howling and gibbering in
the night.
He could feel his brother's presence
and the angel too,
but felt only more unnerved
because he knew he was the
only one who could hear the voices.
Another shrill scream pierced
his ears and he ducked, holding
his head between two shaking palms.
Bright flashes of color exploded at
the corners of his vision and danced
around his eyes like a psychedelic
kaleidoscope.
He went spiraling again in his mind and
every color blinked out, like a light.
Everything went dark as the psychotic laughter
echoed throughout
his
skull.

Castiel
Over the hill moved a creature, round and
Glowing with a cold, white light.
Like a spectacular
Moonrise.
It had hundreds and hundreds of
Eyes in every imaginable color, faceted
Like jewels that covered wheels within wheels of
It’s spherical body.
It was an infinite series of intersecting
Rings that spun constantly in
All directions.
Like a gyroscope.
The rings looked like steel but
The substance was
Pearlescent and, like an oil slick,
Contained all of the rainbow within it.
Steel-like whips caressed the ground
And skies as it moved.
And at its center stood two
Wings, upright.
Feathers made from the metallic
Material rippled in the air. Around the wings pooled a
Sticky, warm light. A sheen of phosphorescent light coated the
Feathers and pooled around the wings.

Dean
Through the windshield, the soft
glow of a solitary streetlight glistened
over his cheekbones
and poured down
his jaw that had grown taught from
rapt contemplation.
His coarse, sandy-brown hair, was messed
from his last tango with a monster.
Brilliant flecks of gold danced around in
his hazel eyes,
entwining with years of past remorse and
echoes of both sad and happy memories of
being on the road.
He kept a firm hold of the wheel, gently guiding the
old muscle car down the road.
Tears prickled behind his gorgeous, tired eyes,
but didn't dare escape.  The plastic army
soldier stared him down, but he
could pay him little mind.
His brother, riding shotgun, slept
sitting upright, his long, chocolate locks
covering his eyes as he dreamt with
his forehead
against the cool window.

Lucifer
A luminescent beauty radiated from him.
Behind his tattered vessel's eyes, a blazing
light shined like a beacon in the night.
The fury of a thousand suns, and
the beauty of a million moons.
The bright and morning star.
The most magnificent in all of the angels,
yet far more dark than any demon.
Sinfully exquisite.
Those who say he has horns have never
looked upon his countenance, for the gems
faceted there rival the colors of the morning skies.
And a voice like silk, soft as the
timid pulse,
a voice that could lead you to your own destruction.
Hands both so gelid and searing, you'd quiver
at the touch.
Hands that have brought so many to their death.
These poems were written in 2016. They were inspired by the characters of the widely popular CW Series, Supernatural.
zebra Jan 2021
a book of shadows falls from the sky

on her knees
her head hinged    
bowed and supplicated
to his long tear dropped arterial ****
among heaps of naked bodies
in a temple of ******

his heart her refuge
her feet sweeten his mouth
her spine writhes a shimming snake
in riddles of pain and pleasure
each accentuating the other

his teeth in her flesh
she shakes bewitched and scarlet
foraging for dissolution

bleed pretty my love
pillar of fire milk and honey
the flames a banquet of tears
from tearing flesh
she wakes bleeding
a thirsty tulip
Laureate of allure and sprawling limbs
who suffers with grace and pride
a disease and cure

pink petals wet with dew
her ****  
a hard working immigrant
gathering fields of poppies 
humiliation as aphrodisiac
her tears glitter
eyes like jewels sparkle darkly

her skin prays to be eaten
marrow salt and butter in a red negligee
to be consumed
in a field of stained beds
she falters with grace

what does it mean you ask
how does it make you feel i ask

abjure the Christian plague
or the mind dies
to **** the body

why whip yourself
when he who loves so ardently
swells to do you the favor

wear the nylons!
Each laureate is supposed to promote a greater consciousness of and appreciation for the art form. Yet in reality, some have acted like ceremonial monarchs while others have been vigorous ambassadors/promoters. Robert Pinsky, the most effective laureate to date, had the zeal of an activist and the charisma of a celebrity.
The higher I go
The more things become bizarre
I don't have a lot to show
But I know I'll make it far
Even with all these scars

Everything is swell
here in hell
We are united
And we make the best of it
Not corrupted, just illuminated
A true free spirit is he
Who is not morally restricted
We do not judge
Only love

Feel no guilt
Become an outlaw
Do what thou wilt
Shall be the whole of the law
So mote it be
Society too shall see.
Dear heavenly father above
I hope you know it's 11:11
I'll make a wish and go to heaven
find Jesus christ and take his heart
build my throne on top of his corpse,
and call it art with no remorse
Amen.
Created by me on October 26th, 2019
Wow, so edgy Anthony... yeah, I cringe when looking at this too. it's whatever though.
Craig Dee Nov 2019
Born Clarendon Square, 1875

11th year, father and hero dies

Mother's moniker, The Great Beast

Carries proud 'til rest in peace



Scripture's words so clearly lies

One off the wrist and women's thighs

Such morals never suit The Beast

On original sin, so does he feast



Red light women, gonorrhoea

Inhale and hold, but have no fear

Bow to none beneath the sky

Affliction, addiction, getting high



Poetry, prose, philosophy, chess

Science, literature, quite the quest

Majestic Monch without a guide

Dispel the darkness deep inside?



A new Sunrise, The Golden Dawn

To most, The Beast is but a thorn

From all the hate, he does defend

"I shall endure until to the end"



A crashing bore, The Golden Dawn

Such petty games, reject them all

Traverse the world and left in awe

In India, sombre spirits soar



The Savage Mountain scrapes the sky

Never scaled yet still must try

Brash bravery, they do not lack

No savage spoils, men beaten back



Convenience ties Beast and Rose

Affection hankers hard to show

Rosa Mundi and Love Songs

One lake of molten joy, one pond



In Egypt, Prince invokes the Gods

Great Horus comes, the Equinox

Aiwass speaks, so Beast does score

A new Aeon, Book Of The Law



On Nepal's peak, his peers they die

Attempt descent beneath dark skies

For such a loss bears all the blame

To climbing clique, ne'er the same



With Godhead now is unionised

As hashish opens the Third Eye

Meagre means and thus provides

Tankerville's peace is bonafide



A∴ A∴ heart, see how it glows

Tree Of Life they seek to grow

A flower's bloom begins to fade

Whilst sadly withers in the shade



The Beast now pens The Book Of Lies

His Scarlet Woman within resides

And for *** Magic does devise

"Contra Naturam", come inside



World War One, it rakes the Earth

While Wilhelm is as Jesus birth

Did The Beast truly betray

A country that had held his sway?



Thelema Abbey, hear its call

Lewd libertine within these walls

Loveday discovers only death

Benito brings its final breath



To man, a prophet is declared

Thelema's message, for to spread

Magnum opus, now complete

Of France, fair punishment is mete?



High on Hell's Mouth, his heart it breaks

But both black ink and leap are fake

War once again now rakes the Earth

Will Blackshirts bond Thelema's church?



War service scorned by N.I.D.

The face behind the Victory V?

Olla: Sixty Years of Song

A final book, the last swan song



Hasting's last battle is now lost

The Great Beast feels the final frost

"A Black Mass", many tabloids cry

Cold ashes now in Hampton lie



Amoral man, your heart did sing

Black ballads of the blackest dreams

Listen and there's still the screams

Of Thelema's ghosts, it seems





Copyright © Craig Detheridge.

2015 - 2017.
This piece is based on the life of the infamous Aleister Crowley.
Born to a Christian family in 1875, he rejected their teachings and those of the bible, becoming a ceremonial magician and founder of The Church Of Thelema. Crowley was a prolific writer on many subjects such as philosophy, politics, and culture as well as Thelema. He was also a published poet and playwright and was an accomplished mountaineer.

Crowley was once described by tabloids of his time as "The Wickedest Man In The World".

It took me several weeks to complete this piece due to the research I carried out on Crowley. There are lines within the piece of which the meaning is not immediately obvious.
This piece has previously featured elsewhere on the net including my own site at https://originaldarkpoetry.wordpress.com/the-great-beast/
Laura Utter Aug 2018
Give me your vision
I crafted within you.
I’ll pick up my pen
Your dreams I’ll pursue.

If bloods what you seek
I’ll open my arms.
Is flesh what you want?
**** it, do harm.

**** me Crowley.
Make me moan.
For you see, I worship thee.
Burn me Crowley.
Burn me.

Give me my vision,
You crafted within me.
Deliver me Crowley
I’ll make it my mission.
Not **** hurt if it gets deleted, I’m a dark ***** and understand some poetry is hard to stomach
Xan Abyss Feb 2016
Carve a picture of your face into the Halls of Time
Preserve yourself forevermore
In the history of humankind
OBEY -the Universal Law
DO WHAT THOU WILT - Harm Not
Scrape the sky with your canines
Make the people sing your name
Slave for no divine reward
And fear no eternal flame

Devil may care,
Live and let live
DO WHAT THOU WILT - Harm Not

We are a miraculous animal
Tricking ourselves into spurning our own gifts
Overcaffienated/Undersatisfied
Our eyes firmly planted
In the center of the sky
We've spent so long waiting for angels
No one remembers:
We Are Divine.

DO WHAT THOU WILT; Defend Thyself
DO WHAT THOU WILT; Indulge Thyself
DO WHAT THOU WILT; Enjoy Thyself
DO WHAT THOU WILT; Respect Thyself

I Am God
You Are God
God Is A Lie
I Am God
You Are God
God Is An Idea
Born In The Minds
Of Us,
The Inventors
God Is A Tool
Used For Control
His Soldiers Are Fools
Losing Their Souls

DO WHAT THOU WILT
BUT FEAR NO GOD
DO WHAT THOU WILT
GOVERN THYSELF
DO WHAT THOU WILT
PROTECT THY WORLD
DO WHAT THOU WILT
BE WHO YOU WISH
DO WHAT THOU WILT
HARM NOT
WASTE NOT
DO
WHAT
THOU WILT
something scribbled in the same notebook as my previous entry. i'm guessing written around 2013.

— The End —