Shadows of winter remain here Unclad by the early spring sun Echoes chilled by the passing time Seasons rebuild nature’s beauty Torn between worlds, the then and now Reborn in the cool forest glades Life on earth must return again In the blessed birth of springtide’s call Walking amid awakening trees Sleep talking and stretching out limbs Towards pale sun rays stirring the ground The age-old tale is told again Turning away from winter’s blues The seasons turn in verdant hues
the flame holds all the cards licking my legs with sultry tongues cheshire cats watch me from afar as the keres crushes my lungs.
i twist and turn like elastic against the blazing stake of doom i pray for one miracle, god's magic to put out this inferno soon.
my skin burns to the bone, withers away like skeletons in a sarcophagus as smoke billows, peasants consider going to mass after this wickedness.
innocent blood is on their hands they dare to call themselves lambs?
Oof, that was spooky to write. A poetry writing prompt inspired me to write this. It had me use the words that are bolded. Let me tell you, it was challenging, but a fun exercise for the creative mind.
Everyone loses their way Lost in their chasmic minds Lost in their bismol worlds Lost in their abysmal emotions Some find a light to guide their way A melody; a sign; a feeling Others search for a distraction Someway to forget the failure and lose the guilt But for me, Hermes guides my path Like a soul into Hades, He always brings me home Back from my friendly worm named Loneliness Back from my terrible sense of direction Back from my endless attempts at self sabotage He makes me see the truth; the reality; the destination
Everyone is all so full of deceit and corruption Pleasing themselves by pleasing others Becoming someone else to be above all others Blinded by envy and seething with a jealous rage They hold out their open hands to me But he whispers in my ear "It's all a lie" And I keep my hand down by my side And watch as they go to the next person Holding their hands out just the same And chaining the gullible fools with honeyed words and empty promises Binding to them now like a contract over their souls Enslaved to the whims of the corrupt
He has me dream of lands across the sea Speaking a tongue that is not mother to me I fall in love with these foreign things The sights he sends me, the sounds, the smells All the excitement of leaving to somewhere new With no fear of the unknown, trusting only In the path on which he guides me I see it now, so far away I reach my hand out and I feel it on my fingertips I close my eyes and the words slip into my mind With every phrase I learn, the freer I become And I walk his path with knowledge I am safe
In meditation he guides me On a starlit beach I find myself sinking my feet into the sand Swiftly he approaches with a grin He holds his hand out to me and I feel at ease No strings or "you-owe-me's" await And with winged feet he sends me back Gently placing me in my body And I awaken safe and sound
The worm part is a knock at my first poem The worm named Loneliness
There is only one true God So I was told All others are false It is He that rules It was Him who created life Yet the old stories of others linger Those who He has proclaimed as false Those who came before him He is a jealous man Hellbent on ******* His followers wish to conquer in his name To burn all the other gods from the sky But they refuse to leave They linger in myths and stories of old His dark desires will not ***** them out A dictator in disguise No more say I Bring back the gods of old The tales of the Greeks The hymns of the Hindus The legends of the Egyptians All the gods who were snuffed out By His “holy” light Which only cast a dark shadow upon humanity They say God is infallible Perfect beyond compare All things good All things great Arrogance is His The gods of old had faults and flaws The gods of old suffered as we suffered They are closer to humanity than Him They are closer to the Earth than Him I want the old gods back They were better than Him
I was raised Catholic but later went down the path of witchcraft. Haha woops
I saw a satyr in the woods, A centaur in the meadow; Travelling on, I remarked on a fawn Hallowing out reeds for a pipe. The world around me was green, The water ran clear, cold and fresh, The air I breathed was historic. Crosses were in the future. No Mecca to visit, No Temple to rebuild.
I am a beach ***, a sun-worshipper, a tree hugger. I will worship the dove, not the sacrifice. I will homage the god of the kingdom that is here, Before she rejects her offspring.
It's a phrase I often playfully use to describe my queer self. ("Were you ever?"my beloved Alison uniformly says in jest). But now it seems unusually apt in another way: As I swann around this empty house, the decor, the photos, the ornaments and old perfume bottles overwhelm me. My head is brimming with memories as I glance past these fragments of our shared lives. My loss is palpable and yet inescapable under this roof. She surrounds us on the walls, hanging over us with her beaming smile amidst the family photos. I want to escape but I can't: In a mad way I want to believe that something of these relics around us can bring her back somehow. She did after all carry something of the old Irish paganism with her. But, no, this ancient shamanism is sadly absent in a room drowned out by every token of Catholicism you can think of. It's all too much for this first born to take and yet she is still here in the tiny gaps of these precious artefacts. Hidden away where you can't see her. So, no, being honest right now - I'm not quite straight yet. The head and heart will realign soon but not with this gnawingly painful grief. Pray for me.
I am relinquishing my fears today No longer shall I be too afraid to be who I am I am not ashamed of my faith I shouldn't hide behind a decade of prosecution We've moved past the burnings and the witch hunts Let them come at me with their torches and pitchforks
It isn't my gods and goddesses who seeks the path of destruction