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Kat Zimmerman Jul 2015
#7
There was a game she didn't know
she was playing.
It was subtle - a game of trickery and silver tongues;
                                                                                             a magic trick.

In one hand and out the other.

Her moves were innocent,
made in the name of friendship and understanding.
A big heart,
                       a warm soul,
                                                an easy target.
The magician smiled - sharp and bright - and proceeded to saw her in half.

Parting is such sweet sorrow.

she stumbled, she bled, she tripped and she fell.
she didn't win the game -
                                                didn't even place.
She got distracted by the smooth talking wolf in a tuxedo and cape.

I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house down.

                                               Game over.
                                                 You Win.
                            She limps off stage and is forgotten.
Formatting practice. Finally finding a style that feels right.
For Keith, that man mountain of towering spirit,
That weaver of emotion, standing proud in his truth.
I wish to be like you;
An artist of the heart, of genuine expression,
A facilitator of truth,
A provider of safety,
Like a harbor for small ships caught in a storm.
You offer a home to those who have none,
A space of healing wrapped in acceptance and silence,
An inn to rest for the night,
So we may continue our journey refreshed.

But how did you find this goodness?
Was it given to you as a gift at birth?
No.
You wrestled it from your soul
With awareness, unflinching courage and tears.
Keith is awesome, the poem says it all.
Sara Jones May 2015
Shes a glass of whiskey and coke
Shes a hit with a definite choke
Shes an untamed wildflower in May
Shes a destined part of the day
Weather you see her or not shes most certainly there
From those torn up jeans to that fiery hair
Shes most likely to turn up everywhere
With a face like hers she can blend with the crowd
But when its time for her to stand out
****
She can make a room stare.
Shes a magician with an umexplainable act
Shes the leader of a suicide pact
When she says jump most ask how high
And i guess thats what shes trying to define
With the envy of others on her side
All she tries now is to hide
But she cant quite make it
Can you see why
Shes a poet with sparkles in her eyes
So any man will meet their demise
Just to convince her shes worth their time.
Florence Maude Apr 2015
There is a hole
In my heart
And it's shaped
Like yours

There is this emptiness
In my lungs
And it's all because
Of you

There are these flutters
In my stomach
And they appear when I
See You

How do you make me feel this way?
Any time of day?

Where are the wires?
Where are the tires?

Where are the strings?
Where are the backstage things?

How do you do it?
You must be a magician
To make me feel this way
Mana Feb 2015
Oh Compelling Magician
Why do your vibes glow?
You're tempting,
Mysterious,
But my brain is just too slow.
To keep with your illusions
And your twinkly fantasy
But I'm compelled to look in further,
To the effervescence,
Your majesty.
You have this way-
Pure,
And Indescribable.
It's magnetizing,
It's happy,
And it's quite unfathomable.
So dear, dear, magician
Please let me come close.
Tell me of your secrets,
Of the mystery of the cosmos.
I promise not to tell-
Your secret's safe with me.
And you'll have my heart forever,
Two magicians to be
Psychically, as one,
For all eternity.
About that magnetic, psychic attraction you have with those compelling people that's difficult to pull away from. Goes beyond words, but here, I humbly attempted to try to do just that.
You pull me closer
with your magical love
like a magician
doing his brilliant magic

I give up,  disappear,
lose my mind
as if I am yours, for
finale in your room
#pull #magical #magician #brilliant #magic #disappear #lose #finale #room
Kay Nov 2014
I made it no secret to you that I grew up next door to a magician.
I was in love with everything he did, made it my mission to memorize it all.
So I played our love like a trick deck, a loaded die.
I thought I knew every illusion.

One day, he showed me a trick based in science.
You blow a candle out, let the red ember die, and just as the smoke starts rising from the wick, you hold an unlit match in it.

You see, the Magician explained to me, the smoke is still combustible. The fire is dead, but its possibility lingers in the smoky aftermath – a flame is lit once more where it was thought to be gone.

Our smoke never lifted after our flame flickered to its death.

With passing time, it rises and falls in waves around us – Our day walking the beach, our moments at the hidden creek, our midnight on the lake, our smoke has always been water, drowning, pulling me down until I can no longer see the surface.

Or else it is fire, burning red hot, scorching my skin until the burn lingers so I dare not forget where you have left your mark.

And the smoke around us is so thick, choking me with the possibility, and I am scared of what it means.
Scared of the flame, of the drowning, of the tricks.

K.A.
cmy Feb 2013
The old oak tree grew at the edge,
of an orchard where little ones play,
and there lived a mage,
who hears trees on a windy day,

Rushing wind rustles leaves,
on that one day brilliant and bright,
With amber gold autumn grandeur on display,
singing tuneful songs delightfully light and gay,
Apple trees trilling events as mysterious as night,
Of love found and lost last May.
Cunning Linguist Aug 2014
-Audience!

Prepare for the magic act

Hypnotically launching attacks
upon the helpless masses


Won't pull a rabbit from a hat,
Rather false-flaggish gaffs
Practically exposed to radioactive madness
(Feel the hurt disappear like doves
Gloriously soaring out your ***)


Hijack these hijinks
Whilst laughing maniacally  
Tornado alley to the trailer-park mentality
I call this a helluva brainstorm,
High-velocity lethality
Compose yourselves
Are your brain-stems intact?  

-Okay. Now

f
o
   l
l
o
w
the                                                            ­                                       swing
of
my                                                      ­                                    pendulous

p          e      ­    n          m          a          n           s           h          i          p

Drearily drift into dreamy trance,
While I attempt
to initialize a feat
of mass hypnotization
Enchantingly dip
into deep illusory corridors
of thoughts limitless


(Pay no attention
to any slippage,
Mental or otherwise
It's already dripping out your ears
& the seat of your pants)
Real ****,
no gimmicks!

Abracadabra
Propaganda
Extravaganza

Gaze into my crystal ball
Mouths agape in awe
While I slay and lay waste
indiscriminate to the faceless plague
Come one, come all!

Phantom sorcerer I am, conjuring
unfathomable horrors
To the collective mind
procured through sleight-of-hand

Voila!

Still with us?
Alright, hold your breath
until you finally wake up
And illuminate the bogus
Hocus pocus front

♠     ♥     ♣     ♦
Shuffle the deck,
Reset Earth's debts
In a fabulous show
of  m i s d i r e c t i o n
♠     ♥     ♣     ♦

Now, Ladies & Gents!
For my final performance
With this rope,
Suspended from the throat
I am going to bulls-eye myself
In the frontal lobe
Dead-center
In front of all you people
With this
.40 caliber desert eagle!

Graciously donated by our very own NWO
(applause)**
This one's sure to be mind-blowing folks.
Seye Kuyinu Jun 2014
This is the story of a peasant
born to the famous town plumber
(If thy desire ponders over a happy ending
i fear your longing be smeared dark)

At an early age i left my father's path
to find fantasies and mysteries
that surpass the answers in books of knowledge
i learned the art of magic.
from the russians, the orients and the arabs
mysteries way beyond the imagination, i could solve
yet the only mystery i couldn't solve
was why my heart couldn't let her go.

night after night, theatres were packed out
that i might pull the hare out the hat
Or maybe draw the love from her heart

Soon I became known amongst the nobles
thus the Great Book confirms, " ...he shall sit with princes"
nothing else satisfied me
but putting the magic in her face

Days passed
and night came
years blew
and I overhear my damsel call them illusions
illusions? illusions? what i fed from! what she basked in
illusions? that which gave others hope?
was my life an illusion?
but i loved. I loved her in a thousand ways

Morn came and the doors left ajar
My show stolen, my canary gone
the face i gloried in every morning
the eyes i adored, the lips i oft kissed
disappeared before me
the All Known.

Dear audience, I lay here cold
and broken
the crow mocks
and the owl watches

Dear audience, this night is cold
colder than my very soul
colder than my very soul
colder than my very soul

this night is cold
colder than my very soul
(echo)

icy cold
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