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Now we sit
Here to smoke
We pray to have
The strongest ****

Fill our lungs
With THC
and let the High
come over thee

Made in 2012 in collaboration with my roommates at the time. Thanks Kimmy, Luke, Ryan, and Kimmie S.
The 420 at the end is supposed to be the "Amen" to finish the prayer.
insomniatrical Dec 2021
Set me free
I beg of you,
Hear my plea
Take this darkness
Away from me
Give me a brand new
So Mote It Be
Elaenor Aisling Oct 2021
I move through the woods in ritual
The trees have shed their leaves like
Third sons and eldest daughters,
They cling bravely until the wind uncurls their hands
and bears them away from home.  
A scavenger, I search them out, hold them between finger and thumb,
Their last embrace.

Sometimes I will pluck a fading life from a branch,
melded amber and crimson,
the dregs of sun in their veins,
offered in the last vibrance of summer’s heat.
At home, I press them between pages,
tiny spells of weight and gravity
cast to keep their color.
I know this magic,
Autumn and I are kindred in this,
Our eyes are the same soft green and sepia of hiraeth
cradles of remembrance,
nets always cast back into memory.
Like all memories
There are a thousand useless,
The umber of old blood, trodden underfoot,
the seconds that dripped by unmarked.
But we hold the fragile, happy few,
High upon a shelf
the glowing phosphorus of laughter
The currant red of a last kiss
Returned to and returned to
Like an unanswered prayer.
I S A A C Sep 2021
habitual ritual, the pleasure principle
hedonistic addiction to fulfill every vision
lots of thoughts but none are groundbreaking
trying to slip you underneath my tongue without hearts breaking
want to hear my name spill out of your mouth without chasing
you around, love it when you are around
you let my inner beast come out
habitual ritual seeking you out
Sonorant Jul 2021
Banished before thon barren plains,
Where treacherous tears abstain
Fare. Fair is the waste,
The impurity of deep, decrepit weeds.
And dage brings fruit then touched
Only by their ravens of rot.
May they paint thine tainted stave
In golden garth and lull the lark;
“Mine, Sweet babe,
Robbed of cradle
Readied for ritual.
Mine, Sweet babe,
Gore masked black
Within the crimson bath.”
Lacen their throats, the gullets that gloat!
Lest langes of thorns, wrap the bairn sworn.
Death breeds glore o’er luid nights
Beldam rise belles in wicked repel.
Round the funeral pyre.
Such a lovely temple
At which to worship
Divine rituals
In sanctified flesh

jdm Feb 2021
Pluck both wings off a butterfly twin,
toss five bones into a black stone cauldron.
Pull three strings of a skeleton puppet,
draw a white circle around a mandolin.
One burning needle, carve into a coffin,
six long shadows swing the pendulum.
A dagger to the chest, weave the mortal flesh,
pierce the embryo outside the yolk of death.
hazem al jaber Dec 2020
Love's ritual ...

what is sets ...
between us ...
is a love ...
with  madly ...
crazy feelings ...
and a great adoring ...
never any ones ...
in the whole world ...
gets like as we do ...

it's a ritual ...
a love's sets ...
only for us ...
no one can understand ...
no one can see ...
this love ...
our love ...
and it's craziness ...
that we do ...
with mornings ...
and all nights ...
even when we are ...
in a different parts ...
we feel together ...
one to the other ...
in every night ...

yes sweetheart ...
cute angel mine ...
we lived together ...
we killed the distance ...
between us ...
and we hugged the love ...
we planted it inside hearts ...
and smelled it's sweet scent ...
every nights ...

it's our ritual of love ...
come let's do more ...
let's love each other ...
more than ever ...
and let's pray ...
for our love more ...

hazem al ..
Grand Piano Dec 2020
I haven’t been truly “fine” in a long time
I’ve mastered the art of smiling
And crying when no ones around
But the mask I so carefully crafted is slowly chipping away
I’m starting to stumble over the steps in this play I put on everyday
Maybe it’s time to let the world see what happens when the curtains close and the performance ends
This piece kinda goes with my other one called Steps
Coop Lee Oct 2014
they emerge from the wooded neighborhood ridge and fringe at dusk
into breadth of lawn
& limb.
witchy chicks
casting banter n bitchcraft.
teenage dead end dreamers tipped in black magick lip gloss
& glitter, their
genderfluid familiars &/or wayward boyfriends apparate
in the street pink cloud spinning wheel,
& hawking bile.
****** stella smile.
swallow a hex, send a snap, tongue along his neck
promising to fold bodies before sunrise.
the effervescent gasp
of post-ritual clarity.

in the house,
is a kid.
a gig.
the devil with a younger grip.
& the kid thrills on a bit of the ol’
         u l t r a v i o l e n c e.
****** videogames, ****** anime, ****** mayhem n melodic music.
he is a conduit of dark energy.
a pure blooded offering of the stone age/video age,
mind in a kind of kaleidoscopic way.
he is me.
bred on televised bucket slime ceremonials.

she checks her purse.
drugs & snacks & juul & a pretty dead bird.
a daughter of delphi watching your kid.
tending to him.
trending him.
popcorn smelling him, the texas chainsaw massacre on vhs just before bed.
palace of teeth n twigs.
just a short walk to the edge and then its bath time.

             the demon version is grisly and cruel.
             the angel version is starry-eyed and adventurous.

to conjure some
at the cliff jumping.
it was fun.
previously published in BlazeVOXMagazine
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