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Anne J Apr 27
Salut—welcome to Madam’s little fortune shop
Where you can see your own fate within an incense drop
My horns shimmer with necklaces that defeats all hexes
And my weapon is a skull of luck for both of the sexes
Now come and rest your left palm on this pentagram
I assure you that this is not a satanic scam
Cards shall give out a tale born from your consequences
As well as the horoscope that’ll mess with all five senses
I can pin a previous life and death within a single scar
I can name all your relatives as far as ones in alcazar
Withdraws are The Sun, The Moon, The Lovers, The Fool,
Listen to the revelations of storylines on your stool
With the Debut of Temperance, The Devil, the Hierophant,
Listen to the ways to avoid a man who is a sycophant
Pick a number from any of my twelve golden coins
To reveal a former lover that one day you shall rejoin
Now kindly look past the glimmers of my crystal ball
And you’ll see just how much your fortune can rise or fall
Last month, I asked a few artists if I could make poems based off their work, but I never got the chance...Until now. This poem is based on this lovely stockwork mashed up by Jasminira from DeviantArt: https://www.deviantart.com/jasminira/art/Predictor-785894696. I think this might be the best poem I've ever written, even more than Stringed Girl, tbh. Hope you guys enjoyed this.
Umi Mar 2018
Holding a pen in hand, preparing pitch-black ink for a blank paper,
I begin with gentle, delicate movements, letting it slide over it.
One line follows another, one without any bother, any care to it.
A regular starshaped polygon, surrounded by a simple circle has been made, one which holds meaning to it, hidden underneath ink.
Some might gaze at it as a sign of a greater evil, heresy or worse,
Others might watch it in awe, a sign of protection a symbol of hope.
A maze with two ends has been made, each with its own belief.
However, my tired eyes, which have been worn, gaze at it and see beauty, the connection of each line contains grace, closed by the circle.
Thus a smile has been cast on my face, as I look at it another time,
Noticing how the black ink has taken the papers purity my cheering sight perishes, saddens in an instant, what I had drawn had become unrecognizable, as the paper spread the ink and distorted this image.
The broken in the light, moist and now fragile, drops through, in wonderous, ominous distraction, leaving a great hole in the middle.
Unable to be ever repaired the paper finds its trail into the trash,
A puddle left of what it was, mixed with the pitch black, had to be cleaned up, so that another attempt could be made, another try.
So I pick up my pen once again and connect the lines with a smile.

~ Umi
Madzq Sep 2014
"P"
Pencil - ****** - ***** - Penalize -Pentagram - Pentagon - Pentagonal - Penitentiary -Pensive - Peninsula - P.......

....Plagued. What is it to be plagued? Haunted?
Seiged by an inescapable force?
Haulted?
IMMOVABLE.
ability to move, yet achieving no valuable distance.
A struggle writhing within ones self.

Pen -Pent- Pent up- P...

....Please, no more....

....more miles high.....
Stakes,
In the ground.....

Great stakes.....
High,
So very high.
Unreachable.
Unattainable.

Pen-Pensive-Pacing- to pace back and forth down a narrow stretch of newly carpeted hallway.
A door.

Adoring.....
Adorable....
Sweet.

Innocence left?
       May be none left.
PTSD

— The End —