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Marco Apr 2020
With the open gates of Babylon
the holy flood poured on and on
through frond-covered stone ways
on grieving Palm Sunday
and the ****** water endlessly rushed
as if turned to wine by Jesus's touch

we were his disciples but behaved like sinners
he walked on water as we took from the rich
the godless romans were quick to condemn us
thus Jesus was crucified for being a witch

they set our stakes ablaze in the night
the darkness enflamed by unholy light
covered our heads with white cotton hoods
and barefoot we stumbled through dusk-silenced woods
we could hear the flames crack like whips in the dark
as they reached for us who were blessed with death's mark.
Pyrrha Apr 2020
They were innocent
The ones who walked this path before me
The ones who never did any wrong
Who committed no sin
'Do what ye will but harm none'

They were the ones who loved the earth
Listened to the cries of the wind and the heartbeat of the sky
Saw the dawn kiss the night sky goodbye
And how the moon would watch over them all
The ones who fell in love with all of Earth's mysteries

The ones who loved to heal
Who cherished all life, and wasted none
The ones who saw everything and nothing
Who ran with the rain
And sang to the storms
Who thanked the crops and respected the Earth
The ones who wrote in runes
And spoke in code
To save our craft and protect our herbs

They were stripped of dignity, but not of pride
Dropped into the water but embraced by the gaurdians of the West, resting in defiance on the surface of the sea
They burned their bodies, but not their souls
They wounded their flesh, but not their will
And like a Phoenix, they rose again
Reborn more powerful, more proud

If again we must, again we shall
No longer will we hide our pride
Our symbols, our spells, our rituals, our magic
No longer shall we fear the ones who do not love the earth we live upon
The ones who burned our brothers and sisters out of hate and refused to understand
The ones who slaughter the land and do not value
all the life that exists together
For we are witches who honor our past and rise together as a Phoenix, rising from the ashes of the ones who crumbled so we could soar
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
It's Halloween!
by Michael R. Burch

If evening falls
on graveyard walls
far softer than a sigh;
if shadows fly
the sickled sky,
while children toss their heads
uneasy in their beds,
beware the witch's eye!

If goblins loom
within the gloom
till playful pups grow terse;
if birds give up their verse
to comfort chicks they nurse,
while children dream weird dreams
of ugly, wiggly things,
beware the serpent's curse!

If spirits scream
in haunted dreams
while ancient sibyls rise
to plague nightmarish skies
one night without disguise,
while children toss about
uneasy, full of doubt,
beware the Devil's lies . . .

it's Halloween!

Keywords/Tags: Halloween, graveyard, shadows, sickle, moon, witch, witches, goblins, serpents, spirits, ghosts, sibyls, Devil
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
the witch
by michael r. burch

her fingers draw into claws
she cackles through rotting teeth ...
u ask “are there witches?”
                                              pshaw!
(yet she has my belief)

Keywords/Tags: witch, witches, Halloween, fingers, nails, claws, talons, cackle, cackles, teeth, rotting, rotten, broom, broomstick, cat
Grey Mar 2020
The same ones who hate me
tend to try and break me,
Curse and forsake me,
Then cry when they **** me.

Then they see,
That they actually need me

it's too late for that now,
Because I do not break and I certainly won't bow.
They have condemned me for now
But watch them as they come back around.....

For Help.
Hating what is provided and then loving it when it saves them. Weird how that works, right?
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Circe
by Michael R. Burch

She spoke
and her words
were like a ringing echo dying
or like smoke
rising and drifting
while the earth below is spinning.
She awoke
with a cry
from a dream that had no ending,
without hope
or strength to rise,
into hopelessness descending.
And an ache
in her heart
toward that dream, retreating,
left a wake
of small waves
in circles never completing.

Originally published by Romantics Quarterly

Keywords/Tags: Circe, enigma, enigmatic, enchantress, siren, enchanted, witch, goddess, magic, Ulysses, pigs, sty



Moon Lake
by Michael R. Burch

Starlit recorder of summer nights,
what magic spell bewitches you?
They say that all lovers love first in the dark...
Is it true?
Is it true?
Is it true?

Starry-eyed seer of all that appears
and all that has appeared—
What sights have you seen?
What dreams have you dreamed?
What rhetoric have you heard?

Is love an oration,
or is it a word?
Have you heard?
Have you heard?
Have you heard?

I believe I wrote this poem in my late teens, during my “Romantic Period.”



Tomb Lake
by Michael R. Burch

Go down to the valley
  where mockingbirds cry,
  alone, ever lonely . . .
  yes, go down to die.
And dream in your dying
  you never shall wake.
  Go down to the valley;
  go down to Tomb Lake.
Tomb Lake is a cauldron
  of souls such as yours —
  mad souls without meaning,
  frail souls without force.
Tomb Lake is a graveyard
  reserved for the dead.
  They lie in her shallows
  and sleep in her bed.

I believe this poem and "Moon Lake" were companion poems, written around my senior year in high school, in 1976. In addition to having similar titles, they had similar "staircase" indention styles. According to my notes, I modified "Moon Lake" two years later in 1978, at which time the poem was substantially finished. I then modified "Tomb Lake" in 1981, but must have forgotten about it, because I don't show that I ever submitted the poem for publication or did anything with it for more than 40 years. Keywords/Tags: Moon, Lake, Lakes, Water, Reflection, Reflections, Image, Imagery, Mirror, Magic, Magician, Seer, Prophet, Shaman, Spell, Spells, Enchantment, Sorcery, Bewitchment, Bewilderment, Incantation, Rhapsody, Love Talk, Love Potion
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Wonderland
by Michael R. Burch

We stood, kids of the Lamb, to put to test
the beatific anthems of the blessed,
the sentence of the martyr, and the pen’s
sincere religion. Magnified, the lens
shot back absurd reflections of each face—
a carnival-like mirror. In the space
between the silver backing and the glass,
we caught a glimpse of Joan, a frumpy lass
who never brushed her hair or teeth, and failed
to pass on GO, and frequently was jailed
for awe’s beliefs. Like Alice, she grew wee
to fit the door, then couldn’t lift the key.
We failed the test, and so the jury’s hung.
In Oz, “The Witch is Dead” ranks number one.

Keywords/Tags: Alice, Wonderland, Joan, Arc, martyr, blessed, beatific, religion, witch, Oz, carnival, mirror, lens, jury, kids, lamb, beliefs, faith, sonnet
lua Mar 2020
Roses and daffodils
Peach blossoms too
Sunflowers, bright and tall
I reach out to you

Valleys and flower fields
Ranges and runes
Magic spells, hieroglyphs
A world just for two

Crystal ***** and hooded cloaks
The future and more
Blinding lights and silent thrills
This dream of yours

Armour and the clang of steel
The monsters you slay
Broken glass upon the floors
You push me away

The brave warrior's battle cry
The fire in your soul
The dreams that you set aside
The blood overflows

Strong hands that once were warm
Ones that held me
You lay there upon your crimson pool
The Gods will hear my scream

Sunflowers, bright and tall
Roses, red and blue
Your memory stays close to me
As I reach out to you.
a witch falls in love with a knight, but fate has different plans
Spicy Digits Feb 2020
Get it, pull it, pull!
Till your arms are but sweat
Rip it from my ears, sir
Tear it from my skin
Better yet
**** like the ill-advised man
Saving kin from snake
Then lay me in a bath of it
And watch my body shake
Attach yourself, hurl son
Use all you can reach
To yank sinew from bone
And until all disarticulates
Make it happen
Do me that dreaded favour
Equip yourself with courage
And hard and fast throw pavers
Get it, pull it, pull!
Exorcise my non-weirdness
Punch and kick it out my friend
Squeeze the boredom from me
Fire up
Fire up
Fire up
Watch this witch awake
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