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Jordan Gee Feb 23
It all started with a walk through a graveyard.
We came to sprinkle glitter,
we came to ring the claw bells,
we came to read the eroded epitaphs on 200 year old tombstones.
Instead we found a “working” aimed at killing someone.
A black bird without a head.
Lopped clean off.
Some kind of voodoo.
Consecrated with a dark blessing by a tombstone.
Naturally we took the bird home.
Laid it out back in the freeze.
It was a “working” aimed at killing someone.
A santera over on east King street informed us of the details.
Told us to burn it and take a sweet bath.
Told us to put water next to the door to catch the demons off our shoes,
tracking in all the demons off the street.
I put water next to my bed to catch the demons in my sleep.
I wondered to myself just what exactly was going on.

A cat got to the bird before we could
but it left us the wings by the fence in the yard.
Monica stretched them open and now they are drying in the garage.
A set of wings to fan the smoke once we light the sage on fire.
I didn’t have a good feeling.
I wanted to burn the black bird.
I wanted to stop the “working”.
I wanted to leave a green pumpkin for Oshun by the waterside.
But instead I only watched it lying on the leaves
out back under a tree
from the kitchen window each time I did the dishes.
Then one morning it was gone,
but I didn’t say anything.
I thought about other things until I saw
the stretched wings in the garage,
until I pulled the Raven card from
the Oracle deck.
Black birds came to visit me.
I was advised I better start getting crafty.
I had been diligent with the water by the bed.
I purified the demons with the singing bowl every morning.
I bless my demons in the water so they don’t use
my mouth to scream
and my eyes to cry.
But the raven came to see me still.
The one without a head, and the one in the oracle deck.
And the ones that fly around the power lines outside where I walk,
cawing and cackling in a crooked ******.

Fancied myself a priest
baptized by the Holy Spirit
home of the Sacred Feminine.
Found myself screaming in hysterics like a little boy in his blanket
after he's told nothing shall be as it was.
So much for the priest hood.
So much for the New Earth.
I pulled the Tower Card.
And that,
along with the ravens
and old man Saturn…
I had never been so afraid for my body in my life.
Now we walk around town and find bird heads on the sidewalk.
Starlings, and a little wren.
I learned my demon’s name is John and that he stands behind me.
Big and wooly like a wild thing on two legs.
He doesn’t fit in a glass of water
so I brought him to the Lemon Street Cemetery
and said bon voyage.
Buried him by a gravestone tree stump and said the prayer of two deaths.
The walk home smelled like ginkgo nuts
and the dust from the crumbing of the Tower hasn’t settled yet.
Now it’s as if I've been inoculated.
I lost my sense of taste for a week and didn’t break a sweat.
I’ve pulled the rug out from under my own
two feet so many times
that if I don’t learn to levitate
my poor tailbone won’t have a chance to heal.
Home of the root
Abode of the World Serpent.
I wasn’t prepared for what was awoken within me
that day up in the promised land,
and it's been climbing my spine ever since.
Now I bless the water by my bedside every night
in case John comes back to roost.

I cover my floors with happy feet
I paint the walls with candle light
I light frankincense and tie prayers to the smoke
I watch them float to heaven
I ring a singing bowl
I put the demons in the water and I drink them.
I see the demons i forgive the demons i am the demons
shayla ennis Sep 2021
Darkness that fills the mind
Filling the eye of the beholder

A dessert path that is deserted by the truth but filled with lies
We're lies only the serpents of untruth and illusions

Leading towards the waters of faith and strength
But possible loss and pain
All dependent on the Storm and the waves

Where land meets sky but the sky is free
Can one truly see
Land is nature but life itself is home
Home is acceptance of life

Sun turning to moon is epicenter of change
To become something new
Altering what once was

To coexist with all that surrounds
To be a part of all
To accept all that is
To deny nothing
To be everything
Scarlet Rose
September 24th 2021
Philip Connett Apr 2021
A BLACK DEVILS TONGUE ROLLS OUT BEFORE ME
HISSING, LICKING, FLAMING & SPITTING

I'M ON THE RUN FROM THE DEMON INSIDE ME
GRINDING WINDING CHURNING AND BURNING

A SCREAMING BULLET TEARS FROM HELLS OWN KEEP
THUNDER QUAKES OF LAUGHTER FROM THE BELLY OF THE BEAST

A BLACK DEVILS TONGUE ROLLS OUT BEFORE ME
HISSING, LICKING, FLAMING & SPITTING

I'M ON THE RUN FROM THE EVIL INSIDE ME
GRINDING WINDING CHURNING AND BURNING

A STREAK OF LIGHTNING BOLT BLISTERING THE EARTH
TREMBLING AND SHAKING LOOSE OF HELLS OWN HEARTH

MUSCULAR SKELETAL CONTORTING
BODY BRACED IS FORCING
SPITTIN SPARKS GRINDIN' WHEELS
KICKIN' FAST AT THE DEVIL'S HEELS

FLIRTING WITH PSYCHOSIS
THIS MADNESS TAKES 'A' HOLD
I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT
GRIPPIN A SPINNIN' WHEEL
GRINDIN' SPARKS AT THE DEVIL'S HEELS

I'M DRIPPIN' WET
MINDS BLEEDING
THIS MADNESS TAKES A HOLD

I'M GRIPPIN' HARD
ON A SPINNIN' WHEEL
KNUCKLES WHITE ICY COLD

I'M GRIPPIN' WET
MINDS BLEEDING
THIS MADNESS TAKES MY SOUL

I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT
GRIPPIN' A SPINNIN' WHEEL
SPITTIN' SPARKS
ON THE DEVIL'S HEELS

I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT
MINDS BLEEDING
THIS MADNESS TAKES A HOLD

I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT
GRIPPIN' A SPINNIN' WHEEL
WAITIN' FOR THE DEATH KNELL PEEL

A BLACK DEVILS TONGUE ROLLS OUT BEFORE ME
HISSING, LICKING, FLAMING & SPITTING

I'M ON THE RUN FROM THE DEMON INSIDE ME
GRINDING WINDING CHURNING AND BURNING

A SCREAMING BULLET TEARS FROM HELLS OWN KEEP
THUNDER QUAKES OF LAUGHTER FROM THE BELLY OF THE BEAST

A BLACK DEVILS TONGUE ROLLS OUT BEFORE ME
HISSING, LICKING, FLAMING & SPITTING

I'M ON THE RUN FROM THE EVIL INSIDE ME
GRINDING WINDING CHURNING AND BURNING

THIS RUPTURED CHASM ERUPTS SPLINTERING THE HEAP
WILDFIRE SPITTING FROM INFERNAL DEEP

MUSCULAR SKELETAL CONTORTING
BODY BRACED IS FORCING
SPITTIN SPARKS GRINDIN' WHEELS
KICKIN' FAST AT THE DEVIL'S HEELS

FLIRTING WITH PSYCHOSIS
THIS MADNESS TAKES 'A' HOLD
I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT
GRIPPIN A SPINNIN' WHEEL
GRINDIN' SPARKS AT THE DEVIL'S HEELS

I'M DRIPPIN' WET
MINDS BLEEDING
THIS MADNESS TAKES A HOLD

I'M GRIPPIN' HARD
ON A SPINNIN' WHEEL
KNUCKLES WHITE ICY COLD

I'M GRIPPIN' WET
MINDS BLEEDING
THIS MADNESS TAKES MY SOUL

I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT
GRIPPIN' A SPINNIN' WHEEL
SPITTIN' SPARKS
ON THE DEVIL'S HEELS

I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT
MINDS BLEEDING
THIS MADNESS TAKES A HOLD

I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT
GRIPPIN' A SPINNIN' WHEEL
WAITIN' FOR THE DEATH KNELL PEEL

THESE DARK WINGS
SPREAD OVER MY HORIZON
REIGN IN EVIL
REIGN IN FREEDOM
REIGN IN HELL

THESE RIVERS RUN WITH BLOOD
FLOWING TO THE FLOOD

THESE RIVERS RUN WITH BLOOD
FLOWING TO THE FLOOD


FROM THE GNASHING TEETH OF THE JAWS OF HELL
RASPING GASPING SEETHING AND BREATHING

MOVING FASTER THAN THE TOLL OF THAT FATEFUL BELL
WREAK CRAKE SHREIKS AND SHAKES THE HEATH

WINDIN' DOWN THAT STEEP SLIDE
SLIPPERY *****
LANDSCAPE
RACING
THROUGH
MY
MIND

WINDIN' DOWN THAT SLIPPERY *****
LANDSLIDE
RACING
THROUGH
MY
MIND

WINDIN' DOWN THAT STEEP SIDE
SLIPPERY *****
BLACK TRACKS
RACING
THROUGH
MY
MIND
As if a song/poem that I wrote...  It has a classic & thrashy feel to it...
TomDoubty Apr 2021
The river has pressed its sleek back
Beyond the bank
Forcing walkers back
From their path
Giving ducks new horizons
Opposite me here, wet-footed on the bench
A bare tree is troubled
By some submerged thing
Making a frail and trembling hand
Of its upheld branches
Water moving through this place
Like a dark serpent
Water that fell on hills
Yielded from ice
A hundred miles from here
Passes me now
And passes the willow
Hanging in the last orange light of day
Trailing its fingers
In coils and eddies
It is all framed here
Indifferent and alive
Alive and forever passing
The sign of Moses is the sign of The Christ,
This to heal the world of its darkness,
The sign of Moses is the sign of The Christ,
This to heal the world of its darkness,
The sign of Moses is the sign of The Christ,
This to heal the world of its darkness,
But the inner Gnosis Light does lead to Christ Consciousness,
But the inner Gnosis Light does lead to Christ Consciousness,
But the inner Gnosis Light does lead to Christ Consciousness,
So turn your inner darkness into the light of Christ,
So turn your inner darkness into the light of Christ,
So turn your inner darkness into the light of Christ,
The sign of Moses is the sign of The Christ,
This to heal the world of its darkness,
The sign of Moses is the sign of The Christ,
This to heal the world of its darkness,
The sign of Moses is the sign of The Christ,
But the inner Gnosis Light does lead to Christ Consciousness,
But the inner Gnosis Light does lead to Christ Consciousness,
But the inner Gnosis Light does lead to Christ Consciousness,
So turn your night into day,
So turn your night into day,
So turn your night into day,
The sign of Moses is the sign of The Christ,
This to heal the world of its darkness,
The sign of Moses is the sign of The Christ,
This to heal the world of its darkness,
The sign of Moses is the sign of The Christ.
1/4/2021
Laokos Jan 2021
i live in a brightness
of worlds
paper-thin

a screenshot of
malleability
introduces my reckoning

today, the serpent
lays hold of
the egg
and starvation
is kept at bay

belly full
cut the cord
the descendants
hang heavy

all my life i've wanted
a reason to
die well

tonight, I hear it
in the sirens...
I hear it
in the coyotes...
I hear it
in my soul...
tonight, I hear it
in plain sight--
as clear
as a daisy

i was allowed
to slow down

to see my life
in a different gear

to venture a guess
towards life in payment
of a different path

i was
hungry
and hung-up

i was held-up
with my pants
down

i was a man
living his life
in the modern
mouse-trap

and nobody
cares about the
man in the
modern
mouse-trap

forget about the
cheese...

find your way
own way
out
Alicia Moore Jan 2021
She carries bruises in her grasp,
Like a plague she cannot unclasp.

The bruises hurt as much as heartbreak;
A piercing bite        
from a              
venomously
seductive      
snake.
Guss Dec 2020
I scream into the void,
silent, but in my silence, louder than all noise.

Accepting of the role to play
in loving unconditionally.

It’s not our fault it happens.

In love,
we’re all just as innocent
as the day
that we were born.

But I have to ask,
are you still able to hear me?

I lost my compass and my passion.
Yet, I’m sure, you, of all people can hear me.

Can you?

It’s so hard, to keep remembering things. The smoke of fires ember in September brings.

Four broken ribs and my heart to cleave, the spell you’ve cast remains unbroken.

But no pain is deeper, scraping and meeker than the loss of my Chicago stinker.

My pangs are not of love.

For sights, and sounds, and tastes, and smells are nothing. Never mind to touch your body.

I see now where I failed you, it was when I failed myself.

It was as the curse of my pressures rolled and churned about on the inside spaces of my peasant flesh.

In the backwater swamp of myself, a reptile slithered between us, sloshing amongst the putrid remains of its kills.

My own precious vermin.

Free me from this awful spell.

Or **** me.

I don’t care.

But whatever you do,
don’t leave me here.
Inspired by loss. I lost everything over quarantine, my job, my woman, my place. I was living in San Francisco at the time and there was smoke everywhere for week and weeks. I was not my best self and my partner didn’t like what she saw. Now she’s gone.
Ashlyn Yoshida Dec 2020
Swirling in an ocean
of brokenness and passion
hands reaching out for another
but in the end only dragging others further down

Everyone is screaming for help
so loudly they can't hear the people around them
Squirming and slithering
Death slides between us all
Eating away the ones who have taken life for too long
A dose of medicine bringing us the cure to misery
by silencing our own thoughts

Choking on charcoal water
The wet dampens my eyes and my hair
clawing and fighting up to the surface
Where many I know tread on the water with ease
Below me are the people who fell into the tempting calm
above me are the ones who made it

weeds tangle about my legs
threatening to drag my body further down
hands clutch at my wrist in hopes for company
slowing me, hurting me, bruising me
It is my own choice whether I cut their fingers or let them stay
Swimming in the murky waters everyone saying they are alone
each with their own setbacks
ignoring the people furthest from them
and pretending that the water is darker and colder
than it has really been
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