May the willows grow through your dog cages. May the mice die and rot where they lay. Half-moons of black dirt once filled up my fingers. Prayed more than once for owls to carry you away. No longer my ritual to clear sludge from the spillway as your orchards grow barren weeds cover your everything, And mushrooms lay seeds in your brain.
A lost coyote, she howls And scowls ripping branches A witches tantrum Making tall pines Stir in their pots As powerful as naught Nautical miles A sail in the air A mystical mare The mountains stand peaceful in the distance A ridge of resistance Against her insistence blows But the energy in me grows I need this though I commune with thee I appreciate the need To scream and sing To let your voices ring Through the mountain air To shout to others beware The wind witches that swishes For river coffee are here
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.
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
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.
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