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ju 3d
We bathed on the carpet’s edge, in October light
made warm again by pimple-glass and wishful thinking.
We played games and we whispered- as if quiet
could conjure Safe from thin air, and noise conjure Evil.
We occupied the in-betweens; the hall, the stairs, the path.
Drew and drew and drew, with red-brick and chalk and dust.
We chewed the skin around our nails, until our fingers cried-
And when Dark came early, he found us fighting Monsters
in the Artex with our jagged little minds.
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
  thing,
at the cliff jumping.
it was fun.
previously published in BlazeVOXMagazine
http://www.blazevox.org/BX%20Covers/BXspring14/Coop%20Lee%20-%20Spring%2014.pdf
I shut my eyes for a moment,
Listening closely to the rain drops against my window.
The louder splatters on the Zinc,
And the solem whispers from the cold wind.

Moments like these,
Ignite my subtle yet firery desires.
My hollow heart summons you,
Reminiscing on your gentle touch never felt,
The feel of our dangerous passion.
Though our lips are yet to touch.

©Karen Thompson 2020
This is roughly about female desires and wild mannerism. Years before now, it was seen as a taboo, female desires and pleasure.
If a young woman showed signed of wild mannerism of some sort, then she would have been seen as 'one who needs a leash'. I tried comparing that with how they treated rumored witches in the second stanza.
She doesn't just 'summon' anything. She summons the image of a mind in her mind. Basically daydreaming.
Max Oct 1
The electric wires form a fox
Eyes and ears pointed at my face
Her mouth nips in the air
She's watching me
Trying to figure out if I'm prey or predator

The woods whisper your name when you walk by
When you sinned we weep of your graciousness
Rejection is a script you know too well
And I'm sorry for being a ghostwriter

Do you know? I ask
How they view you,
You are cunning and they fear it
You are smart and it's terrifying for them
You are the legends scratching cracks into history
What you have done is birth a new era
Our spines read of your sly rebellion

Millions of people have been touched by those stories
But sides have formed
And you have become a martyr

They’ve made you an example,
And I am sorry that your story is not unique
I know so many foxes
Some with white hair
Braided and ready for war
Reckless with ambition
Others with piercing black eyes
Sharp and not scared of death
Saw the injustice and called it out of its shadow

They are scared of them
Called them witches riddled with sins
Killed them without a remark for justice
Leaving their bodies in the forest
Abandon and erased
Trees have been born by their hearts
Nourished by their blood

I walked into the forest
Touched the ground
Felted the air
And came out a phoenix

So I understand the hesitation
The double step before you move
The hitch in your breath before you ask
But I am stone and statue
I speak when spoken too
Just like you, they have made me a lie
So staring will solve nothing now

Ask and you shall know what side I am on
Prey or predator?

You are still staring and I am looking back
I can see the wheels turning in your head
Prey or predator?
And taking pity
Taking rebellion by the hand
Taking you by the hand
Refusing to make you my enemy
I say "neither"
Because exil is also an exception
Because love unite foes
Because I have played the game for too long too
And you look tired of always needing to pick sides
This is 1/3 of my school assigment
Theme: Nature
Place where I wrote this: Looking at the electric towers from my window
Anais Vionet Jul 16
The witch lies conjuring lines of verse
to alter our place in the universe
to twist this common knowing
and spin such miracles as love.

A flash of light and a cackle of laughter
it seems I got what I was after
as your eyes fall on me hungrily
my world now mirrors my dreams.

How bright our future seems.
Then a witches warning: "2000
mornings of love have you ‘til natural
laws return - death's padlock will be opened
if the stolen love you haven't earned."

What bitter lessons greed can teach
when we twist the fates to heaven reach.
A poem of stolen love's desires
Zachary G Jul 9
There was once a witch named alice
She liked to play with fire  
The fire started as but a small spark
One day the fire spoke to her

The fire would would whisper to her everyday
and slowly it grew warmer and warmer

As the fire grew it began to race across the sky
it became so bright that the darkness completely faded back

The witch asked the fire what it's purpose is
The large fire began to say "To give hope."

The witch then began to go towards the lake
The flame had never seen a sight so comforting and beautiful

The witch began to go into the lake
As the flame saw that the black and cold waters brought her joy
the flame asked "may i join you?"

The witch began to think and cleverly said "please join me. this dark is very peaceful and relaxing" and so this flame began to come closer and closer to the lake.

The flame was watching the water dance below him and slowly went closer. The witch began to go as close to the flame as possible and called out "NO MORE!"

The witch had splashed the fire until it disappeared. The witch was finally free. She had finally let go and slowly began to sleep.

The witch began to say "Duty is for those who aren't me. Children should be free from the flame that grows inside of ME." the witch realized what the world needed was calm peace, not hope.

THE END.
This is my property, all of this is my story steal it and beware. This is owned by Zachary Ethan Gorenstein.
Witches are immortal, & we're starting to see
You may have burned the bodies
But the spirits they fled free

Witches are ethereal, & we're starting to feel
Ashes may have fallen
But they nurtured seeds you plowed from fields

Witches, we're alive
and we're dressed in gleamed skin
Our eyes pierce through bones
And our hearts never wear thin

We'll push you to the edge
until you turn into your highest form
The weak fear us because they know through us humanity transforms

We call, witches arise
And climb up the holes
It's time to bless the soil and unchain the shackled souls

With words, we unfurl magic
With truths, we unveil strengths

With power so infinite
It lives ever; it is shared.
Myka Apr 16
xvi
Sun and moon, day and night,
Light and dark, good and evil.
They say God created everything
for a reason,
so what of the Devil?

I've heard stories,
of witches and werewolves.
But the Devil,
they say he walks among us,
living in the shadows,
and speaking in whispers.

They say God created everything
for a reason,
that He made man in His image,
so why did He put the Devil in me?
This is for the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. The Man Without Fear.
fray narte Apr 7
my heart only knows rage
growing, crawling like wildfire
to which my bones will collapse like lilac twigs;

then again, honey,
we do not burn down with the fire — we become it,
should we fall like witches condemned.

then again, honey,
they do not burn; the fire knows its mistress' touch
and today, we have inherited
all the anger, all the wrath, all the names of the men
she held onto for centuries in her palms.

today, she will avenge
all her sisters lynched and effaced
all her brothers starved and gunned
by the very pigs who swore to protect
and the fire will
creep, engulf, and spread,
torching their money and their abusive hands —
their lying tongues and iron fists
burning in cauldrons
they will burn us in,
and the smoke will rise to the heavens
until all that's left are ashes
from where no cruel man will rise.
and the smoke will rise to the heavens
until justice,
like a goddess,
emerges from a foam of embers.

and the smoke will slowly lift —
so will this anger.
so will this wrath.

and it's the sun itself that awakes
to the promise of a new day.
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