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Honoring Buckethead Halloween
romaniac bucketb0t love

De la asta am plecat,
De aceea am continuat
Fără sa am vreo așteptare
De faptul ca am fost invitat,
De unde doar am menționat

Jason and Nick, Faustian Echoes dialogues my thoughts in regards to ours, lips my feelings.

"They lie outside the boundaries that words can address; and man can only grasp those thoughts which language can express."

In eggphrastic way, I end and say
The sun gets its own shadow under Buckethead's light.
My poem to I Hate Music podcast after inviting me to talk about my muse Buckethead, hosted by Agalloch's Jason Walton and Nick Wusz. Link:
https://youtu.be/g6N0hqpwDkc?si=91Uqoo3eQXLTfc-T
Gerry Sykes Nov 11
No one saw the hooded man
in the grain of the wood:
every night I slept face down
so I didn't have to look at him.

I'm grown up:
there are no figures
on wardrobe doors,
but some people make me hide
under the bed sheets.
I was just watching an halloween movie and it brought to mind my childhood fear of a figure I was in the grain of the wood of my wardrobe.
she wore a dress of silk that day
a coral comb set in her hair
to dress her curls a dark array
all black as night, as cold as air.

a sweet seductress so beware!
no man could ever win her charms
her beauty was a vision fair
a hellish haunt that death disarms.

she walked towards her lover's house
her soul was calling out to him
as quiet as a timid mouse
her pounding heart all silent sin.

for he was flesh and he was bone
and she a ghost, a cold temptress
and in her hair she wore a comb
to match the silk of her blue dress.

so how could any man resist
her ghostly spirit, cold as night
as if the very moon that kissed
the soulful sky that shone so bright

was hunting, searching night for him
her lover waited, knew her near
her ruby lips, the lanterns dim
in distant dreams she would appear.

she wore a dress of silk that day
a coral comb set in her hair
how could she so her love betray?
i'll tell the tale and climb the stair...

the moon a phantom all despair
he shook and then a deathly cry
she cut his throat, this vision fair
and flew from him across the sky.

they buried him beneath a tree
his life that languished at her hand
and now i'll end this fantasy
of ghoulish love in spirit land!

beware the witch, beware the knell
where ghosts do flaunt the midnight cold
for devil's pave the way to hell
and steal the souls that darkness sold.
a little fun for halloween/bonfire night!
Cloaked in a tapestry of evening sky
I dim my light to hide amongst the masses
If only for one night
In this dim night
before the dawn of All Saints,
no need to take fright
of the spirits you acquaint —
for they are merely the ones who went on before.

Beloved dead whom we miss
reenter the world of the quick
and blow us a kiss
with a treat but no trick —
as we celebrate their return from the dark shore.
Yvette Cerdon Oct 31
It's not in your closet
Nor in your bed
If you look deeply in my eye
You'll see it's all in my head
Yvette Cerdon Oct 31
I was killed
Multiple times
In multiple ways
By the same people
At the same place.
Successors of Solomon, wiser than wise
Guided by motions of stars in the skies
               Restoring our powers
               Through forests and flowers
With spells on our lips and a gleam in our eyes
An older one from the archive
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