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James Carney Feb 13
O Viviane, waters billow below,
Scour my stone heart, to cut a cleft of you.
Coarse time grate, frothed roars the crag pool bruise.
There my gold name was your treasure to throw.
Now your madness is the sole love I know.
Summer sun’s blaze, gleaming corkscrews freed truths;
My willow’s fingers brushed your cobalt hues,
So secret reeds in our sparkling lake grow.
Maybe that’s why I stand on the cliff-side.
A search for your haunting shadow’s colour;
I chase it like my dreams, back to this hurt,
And with quaking limbs, hoarse cries fill the sky:
“Lord, I beg you, help me to uncover
The magician who left me with this curse.”

𝘖 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘫𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩
𝘐𝘤𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘥𝘦’𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘴.
𝘚𝘢𝘭𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘴, 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘴’ 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺’𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥,
𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥.
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸.
𝘉𝘢𝘳’𝘴 𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘻𝘦, 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥.
𝘐𝘯 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵’𝘴 𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘮, 𝘮𝘺 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥.
𝘛𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘸𝘯’𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘸.
𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘧-𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦.
𝘚𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘧, 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴,
𝘌𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵.
𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦
𝘠𝘦𝘵 𝘢 𝘫𝘦𝘸𝘦𝘭 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳, 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳,
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘯’𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦.

Viviane, ephemeral as the day.
𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘐 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘦.
I’d play for you even without an ace.
𝘖𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘺.
Cheat, and I’ll honour you, in every game.  
𝘐𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥’𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴, 𝘐’𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦.
Lie, and I’ll believe you, in every case.
𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦.
Maybe that’s why I stand on the cliff-side.
𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴?
Or has our portrait dried in shades of hurt?  
𝘉𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘦.
I wonder if we’ll ever discover  
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘶𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦.
This poem tells the story of two former lovers who have tried to move on from one another but have both ended up at the same cliff-side. It is something of an anti-love poem, yet I find there's something hauntingly romantic about it. I wrote it with decasyllable to echo heroic verse of medieval French epic, which perfectly fits the Petrarchan sonnet form, accentuating both the narrative and its themes. Hope you guys enjoy it!
I - The Magician

A new cycle in your life
A new romance or new beginning
You must accept your inner power
And soon inspiration will be winning

Yet I warn you for your pride
Your ego, and abuse of power
I show that someone might be tricking you
Watch yourself, this lonely hour
A poem every day
3/10/20
Austin Morrison Nov 2020
I always liked magic.
Being tricked into believing things that are not real.
I even decided to learn it for myself.
I got so good that I managed to trick myself into believing we would work.
The feeling you gave me was so magical, I should have realized it to be fake.
You got under my sheets then vanished, as if you were never there, to begin with.
I played it off thinking you would pop up somewhere else like it was one of my tricks, but you never did.
Left searching alone for so long, I grew tired and impatient.
I have lost my love for magic even though I still managed to be tricked.
I have learned I was never a magician, just a jester playing the fool.
else Jan 2020
No more aces up my sleeve

I've ran out magic tricks to play with you

I'm tired.

So watch me disappear

No smoke and mirrors here
LightShade Jun 2019
He was a magician
  but he saw the magic in her eyes

A trick only cupid knows
  and once he was convinced

He got fooled again
  It wasn't real

It was all slight of Happiness
  with nights of Tears

Roll up his sleeves
  show your hands clean

Once eyes are on you
  your magic sets in
Love or Trickery
Yuki Mar 2019
I fell for you
but you were
already gone
as soon as
I got up again,
like a magician
through a trapdoor.
That was the time
I began to believe
in magic.
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