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LC Feb 2022
this day weighs the world down
as we hold a collective breath,
waiting for the future to reveal itself.
we pray to every deity,
toss every coin,
and carry love in our hearts
for all who are suffering.
we are here to lighten the load
in any way possible.
I posted this on my Instagram, but I wanted to post it here as well. I am sending my love to everyone at this time.
Jordan Gee Feb 2022
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
newborn Feb 2022
you could say i’ve been dreaming since march of 2020
cause nothing feels like reality anymore
i have pinched myself and my scaly skin
i never seem to wake up
which means maybe i am not caught in a dream
or a nightmare of a landslide
i am walking like a zombie in limbo
clomping slowly, pondering whether to go
or to tumble down the cliffside
i can’t remember life before this
cascade of emotions



death to the dreamer
she left so long ago
she tumbled down the cliffside
now she can’t even say hello.
March 2020-
when i lost all hope in society
social anxiety
Mark Wanless Feb 2022
i know there was time
i loved all the world in mind
cake on eighth birthday
carolina Feb 2022
He says he’s the moon;
doesn’t have a light of his own.

i agree,
he is the moon.

but not for the reasons you presume:

he is the moon.
in the midst of a black sea;
a blazing of silver,
a flash of hope
in the vast darkness of this world.
this poem is about a person who doesn’t see how much they are worth, who I very pure and kind, and how much you wish they could see themselves the way you see them.
George Krokos Jan 2022
As the sun goes down
and day is all but over
a new world begins
___
Written in 2020
Kahou Eru Jan 2022
I see you don't like me
My cordial mild mannered disposition failed
I didn't mean to stand out
It's not that I'm different
Honest
Just highly antisocial....  
Yet your giving me a hard time anyway  
How it must feel to have me in a bind
Well it's nothing new  
Another Cross to bear
Anyway soon we might part ways
No it's not you ,
it's  me I guess...
newborn Jan 2022
вⷡleͤaͣᴋⷦ & s͛aͣdͩ
& yoͦuͧng & mͫaͣdͩ
              whͪaͣᴛⷮ aͣ s͛weͤeͤᴛⷮ,̓ goͦrͬgeͤoͦuͧs͛ giͥrͬl
  вⷡoͦuͧndͩ ᴛⷮoͦ fiͥndͩ aͣ neͤw woͦrͬldͩ
iͥn ᴛⷮhͪeͤ рⷬaͣlmͫ oͦf hͪeͤrͬ cͨiͥrͬcͨuͧlaͣrͬ hͪaͣndͩs͛
  вⷡeͤndͩiͥng ᴛⷮhͪeͤ eͤxͯрⷬeͤcͨᴛⷮaͣᴛⷮiͥoͦns͛ oͦf aͣ s͛quͧaͣrͬeͤ рⷬlaͣneͤᴛⷮ
              whͪaͣᴛⷮ aͣ s͛weͤeͤᴛⷮ,̓ loͦyaͣl giͥrͬl
   s͛ᴛⷮaͣвⷡleͤ iͥn ᴛⷮhͪeͤ рⷬoͦlluͧᴛⷮeͤdͩ eͤnvͮiͥrͬoͦnmͫeͤnᴛⷮ
liͥᴛⷮ wiͥᴛⷮhͪ iͥncͨaͣndͩeͤs͛cͨeͤnᴛⷮ liͥghͪᴛⷮs͛
      cͨrͬeͤaͣᴛⷮiͥng рⷬiͥrͬaͣᴛⷮeͤ s͛hͪiͥрⷬs͛ frͬoͦmͫ hͪeͤrͬ рⷬeͤncͨiͥl
dͩrͬaͣwiͥng s͛ᴛⷮoͦrͬy liͥneͤs͛ wiͥᴛⷮhͪ hͪeͤrͬ aͣrͬвⷡiͥᴛⷮrͬaͣrͬy mͫiͥndͩ
              whͪaͣᴛⷮ aͣ рⷬrͬoͦuͧdͩ,̓ joͦyfuͧl giͥrͬl
s͛hͪeͤlᴛⷮeͤrͬiͥng ᴛⷮhͪeͤ liͥрⷬs͛ oͦf hͪeͤrͬ рⷬaͣrͬᴛⷮneͤrͬ
       iͥn ᴛⷮhͪeͤ dͩeͤeͤрⷬ foͦldͩs͛ oͦf ᴛⷮhͪeͤ niͥghͪᴛⷮᴛⷮiͥmͫeͤ hͪoͦuͧrͬ
   cͨaͣрⷬᴛⷮuͧrͬiͥng hͪeͤrͬ eͤncͨloͦs͛eͤdͩ s͛ᴛⷮaͣrͬliͥᴛⷮ dͩrͬeͤaͣmͫs͛
           iͥn vͮaͣluͧeͤs͛,̓ iͥn ᴛⷮhͪeͤ cͨeͤmͫeͤᴛⷮeͤrͬiͥeͤs͛,̓ iͥn ᴛⷮhͪeͤ weͤeͤdͩs͛
  iͥ dͩrͬeͤaͣmͫ aͣвⷡoͦuͧᴛⷮ hͪeͤrͬ iͥn eͤvͮeͤrͬy waͣy,̓ s͛hͪaͣрⷬeͤ,̓ oͦrͬ foͦrͬmͫ
iͥn eͤvͮeͤrͬy laͣnguͧaͣgeͤ iͥn ᴛⷮhͪeͤ woͦrͬldͩ
iͥn вⷡlaͣndͩ & s͛iͥmͫрⷬleͤ yeͤᴛⷮ s͛рⷬuͧnᴋⷦy giͥrͬls͛
iͥn yoͦuͧ,̓ iͥn mͫeͤ,̓ iͥn mͫy woͦrͬᴛⷮhͪ
iͥn guͧiͥᴛⷮaͣrͬs͛,̓ iͥn рⷬiͥaͣnoͦs͛,̓ iͥn mͫiͥcͨrͬoͦрⷬhͪoͦneͤs͛
iͥ vͮiͥs͛uͧaͣliͥzeͤ yoͦuͧ aͣndͩ yoͦuͧ juͧs͛ᴛⷮ dͩoͦn’ᴛⷮ ᴋⷦnoͦw
Listen to cherry by harry styles while you read this poem
It’ll make the experience even better
newborn Jan 2022
salt is sprinkled all over my wounds
the blood is boiling
lost in a daydream
trapped in a hazy atmosphere
where no one can escape

the sky is falling
while the ukulele strums
it’s bittersweet to know I’ve known you once before
especially cause now ur a stranger

my cheeks are soggy from the tears
wasting materials, drinks, and years
the ground is wet and damp
the rain is dripping down like the residue on my face after watching you deliberately ignore me

the earth is faint and quiet
losing the best things
inside the worse moments
slowing sobbing
in a delicate motion

but even as the world is ending
a silence is better than nothing
i hear the horns
and it’s the most pleasing noise
echoing through every corner
collecting all my memories
all my fears
all my worries
and i think i am finally alive

we are all gonna be ok
Listen to fine line while reading
It’s a magical experience, trust me

1/18/22
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