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#divination
nine swords nine swords adorn my wall taunting me with their potential to bore through my back carefully plotting their fall keeping me up at night and holding me back in life trying to see with blurred sight while taking on all internal strife nine swords perched on my wall how have i managed to collect them all? what can i do if they happen to fall? do i have what it takes to overhaul? one more in my back, and I’ll be clinging to the floor too in distress, missing necessary rest fearing i can never settle the score
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Mar 5
Mar 5, 2026 at 5:16 PM UTC
nine swords
Another day for discovery, another dance of fate One that's guaranteed to please, the stars have set this date The twins are free, the moon is high, and Mars has come in line And on this, the 5th, my lucky day, I have to rise and shine With fingers crossed and wood well-knocked, I leave my lonely place The words of the fortune cookie have put a smile upon my face With lucky penny and rabbit's foot, my future must be sound But, just in case, when I spy the ladder, I will choose to go around I'm lucky 21 today and I've wished upon my star No mirrors broke or salty spills, no black cats on my path A brand new year, to quell my fears, and act on all my schemes Today's my day, destined to meet, the stranger of my dreams But as my lucky day unfolds, and my hopes are stretched and bruised The world continues just the same, like it doesn't know my rules And expectation is not met, nor new advantage gained For though the signs are all in place, the day is just the same What has gone wrong, why is this so, have I left something out? This day should be so joyful, and make me sing and shout Yet as day's end nears and I taste the tears, of disappointment and despair A sudden thought occurs to me, that I can hardly bear Little rabbit, tucked in my purse, and nestled at my side Who offers luck and promises, a life changing surprise He paid a price for lucky feet, for that which he was bred He hops no more, and twitches not, for little bunny's dead And as I ponder on rabbit's fate, a new thought comes to me About my shining lucky penny, that grandma gave to me That trinket has daily been with me, since I was only nought Yet, didn't stop the darker days, that life and loss have wrought And what of horsey, free and fair, who wants to run and neigh? But lost his shoe and was tethered to, become a human's slave My breath was short and my face was wet, as I sought the truth to see That planets were indifferent and not aware of me No clover found, no lucky star, no bad luck from spilled salt And the dreamcatcher above my bed, also nightmares caught And even old Saint Christopher, who was meant to protect me Didn't help the day I crashed my car into a tree And suddenly, I knew the truth, with my future plain to see That all these things were not in control, that it was up to me That sometimes we have accidents and illnesses and such And objects would not be for us, a prevention or a crutch That stars and numbers just exist, and birthdays will come and go And sometimes we will make mistakes, and life will ebb and flow And realizing all these things, I suddenly felt free And vowed then to prepare myself, for future misery For all the rituals and the charms, and lucky numbers too Had not produced a happy life, or made a future new I take control and steer my life, by my own deeds instead For rabbit's foot could not help him, and sadly, bunny's dead
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Nov 22, 2025
Nov 22, 2025 at 10:07 AM UTC
Bad Luck Bunny
Another day for discovery, another dance of fate One that's guaranteed to please, the stars have set this date The twins are free, the moon is high, and Mars has come in line And on this, the 5th, my lucky day, I have to rise and shine With fingers crossed and wood well-knocked, I leave my lonely place The words of the fortune cookie have put a smile upon my face With lucky penny and rabbit's foot, my future must be sound But, just in case, when I spy the ladder, I will choose to go around I'm lucky 21 today and I've wished upon my star No mirrors broke or salty spills, no black cats on my path A brand new year, to quell my fears, and act on all my schemes Today's my day, destined to meet, the stranger of my dreams But as my lucky day unfolds, and my hopes are stretched and bruised The world continues just the same, like it doesn't know my rules And expectation is not met, nor new advantage gained For though the signs are all in place, the day is just the same What has gone wrong, why is this so, have I left something out? This day should be so joyful, and make me sing and shout Yet as day's end nears and I taste the tears, of disappointment and despair A sudden thought occurs to me, that I can hardly bear Little rabbit, tucked in my purse, and nestled at my side Who offers luck and promises, a life changing surprise He paid a price for lucky feet, for that which he was bred He hops no more, and twitches not, for little bunny's dead And as I ponder on rabbit's fate, a new thought comes to me About my shining lucky penny, that grandma gave to me That trinket has daily been with me, since I was only nought Yet, didn't stop the darker days, that life and loss have wrought And what of horsey, free and fair, who wants to run and neigh? But lost his shoe and was tethered to, become a human's slave My breath was short and my face was wet, as I sought the truth to see That planets were indifferent and not aware of me No clover found, no lucky star, no bad luck from spilled salt And the dreamcatcher above my bed, also nightmares caught And even old Saint Christopher, who was meant to protect me Didn't help the day I crashed my car into a tree And suddenly, I knew the truth, with my future plain to see That all these things were not in control, that it was up to me That sometimes we have accidents and illnesses and such And objects would not be for us, a prevention or a crutch That stars and numbers just exist, and birthdays will come and go And sometimes we will make mistakes, and life will ebb and flow And realizing all these things, I suddenly felt free And vowed then to prepare myself, for future misery For all the rituals and the charms, and lucky numbers too Had not produced a happy life, or made a future new I take control and steer my life, by my own deeds instead For rabbit's foot could not help him, and sadly, bunny's dead
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48
I drink it all like a thirsty creature from the scarred hands of my God loving nurturing
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Sep 27, 2021
Sep 27, 2021 at 8:29 AM UTC
Divination
The intuitive pushes and reassuring synchronicities have calmly, carefully come back to me; a gentle invitation for personal growth. With smooth tumbled aventurine and rose quartz held against my chest, I reap the rewards of universal, unconditional love, and abundant opportunity. Chosen through loving, intentional divination, I separated them from the other stones I cherish deeply, but do not need today. Once again I am reminded of the strength I carry within - that I am a soul with a body, not a body with a soul.
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Apr 2, 2021
Apr 2, 2021 at 6:48 AM UTC
Synchronicity
Speak to the muses blamed for your bruises— They might say something yet. Forget that the news is staring right through this— Their blades with blood are wet. You know you and I, we peer through the sky— Feeling for fates unset. Even though they lie about where or why— I knew I’d ne’er forget.
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Dec 5, 2019
Dec 5, 2019 at 6:05 PM UTC
Divination
_/There is no fellow in the firmament._               but only fire can cast down raging blood, running through the city, flagrant          smoke on a collonade of scepters, raised — line by line: note the conspirator in the masses                  _Doth not Brutus brotherless kneel?/_ traitorous hands, leaking red                  _/Speak hands, for me!_ — from a dagger plunged deep through the heart of eruption it                                           spills chaotical, arterial, sinful                                       down and down ribbons of life         crown in rotation: halted on tumbling tyrrant, passes guiltless largesse from hand sought to hands yet seeking, searching [whisperings]          "but on what grounds is usurpation justified?"/          "what cavity yet persists in the dawn of these reds rising?" kneeling king, sodden with loss           bend for me —                        _Et tu, Bruté?/_ screamitbloodymurdersingitholydivination                                        _Then fall, Caesar._
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Mar 9, 2019
Mar 9, 2019 at 10:34 PM UTC
"ambition's debt is paid."
Anthomancy Arithmancy Auramancy Bibliomancy Botanomancy Capnomancy Cartomancy Cryptomancy Dictiomancy Grammomancy Hypnomancy Ichnomancy Knissomancy Lithomancy Lunamancy Macharomancy Micromancy Necromancy Nephomancy Numismatomancy Oneiromancy Pallomancy Rhapsodomancy Shufflemancy Stareomancy Symbolomancy Theomancy Xylomancy
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Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 4:53 AM UTC
-mancy
"Sonnets From a Conversation With a Friend XXIV " Divine your soul's degree it is the sucker Of rotting mind flesh off the bright light core A red flashing neon exploding door To heaven is causally over Looked for excitements and anger little Rubber hammers of perception tap mind Tendons born formed or this life conditioned And we **** **** **** our days away as chattel To fault-full man-made process rationaled Buy this! Get wet for this! Dream this! Consume your HOLE LIFE CONSUME!!! and sigh the wish for more Stoppage is not in time just now crafted Body movements speak louder than words blow Chunks!!! there's a full heap of actions to go
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Nov 27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017 at 12:47 PM UTC
Sonnets From a Conversation With a Friend XXIV
"I mean we were destined to fail, I've read every card in the deck, scry'd every crystal in the store. Looked for meanings in the Stars, the tea, the cracks in the pavement. Fishbones, wishbones, my palms and the swirls at the back of my eyelids. Can't you see?" "I see. The magpies came in two's." "Exactly, there's happiness somewhere." "Just not here." "Yes. Just not here."
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Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 6:59 AM UTC
Hidden meaning
Ripped, torn, misconstrued ribbons, from hand to fist rivals of the paste and glue rhyme, prose, unholy trist Wiles, words, and wisdom worn, on body and on head wishes for better systems winding up, not dead Driving, directing, an epiphany determined thoughts, not always said dynamic in your company portents and bones, that Ive' read
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Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 5:47 PM UTC
Divined
That loneliness deep in my soul It's hurting my heart Trying to take hold I love the warmth Please don't go cold Stay young at heart Please don't grow old Keep your spark Don't become jaded Stay out of the dark You're Illuminated
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Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 2:45 AM UTC
Divine Reminder
Psychedelic souls Connecting together, making a flow Sharing what we know Creating an awakened show Gather round and watch the smiles glow Talk to people and help them grow Give them something to believe in Help them stop the constant grievin People need a break This world can be hard to take Show them how happiness feels Show them that its deeply real Access the love and higher vibrations Teach them creativity and concentration Be the change you wish to see We have the same purpose, you and me This worlds a trip and we should treat it as much Teach people to heal with a gentle touch Energy flowing through our bodies and all around Manifest with imagination, art, and sound Create what we want to exist in 3D Connecting with higher dimensions is the key You have everything you need inside Don't hurt your brain looking far and wide The collective consciousness is overflowing inspiration For the world it's an invitation To express what you see Keeping your mind open and free Heal yourself and your energy Take some supplements and drink some tea Create a world we don't have to flee Decalcify your third eye and join me Embody the expansiveness you can be They're not coincidences they're synchronicity Everything is connected here and beyond Your own body is the magic wand A conduit of energy and the divine Anyone can understand what I'm saying if they open their mind
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Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 1:03 AM UTC
Virgo Manifestation
i do as a ritual or sometimes have lost a wedding ring intended for Blanca but yo soy enchanter 1 2 3 4 5 6 each is part of a knucklebone a divination of entrails and all games eternally are fated to decide nothing
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Jan 9, 2016
Jan 9, 2016 at 7:01 PM UTC
roll the dice
Miss Maiden, might I compare you to that of the guillotine? Your swooping grace like the edge of a shining silvery blade that curves and cuts across the sky so seductively slitting the throat of the horizon From the threshold of dreams to bring a new day Where we feed our blood back into the monotonous machine then drop to our knees and pray for divine intervention My femme fatale, Could you take me out of this? to break cycle before you wax away You know you were always my favorite deity, *Artemis, Artemis You’re the art I miss from a life unfulfilled From the music* The untold story agonizing inside writhing for a release So I’m drawing you down to this plane to hunt me as a willing sacrifice. Won’t you drop from the sky and come blow my mind? Just leave my head in the basket.
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Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 2:25 AM UTC
Artemis/Art•I•Miss
Bright child of the Tarot, a new age awaits you – but not through the mazes you’re wandering in. Your gypsy desire and clairvoyant excursions are setting your beautiful brain all a-spin. The dog at the precipice barks out a warning: the FOOL, the MAGICIAN and PRIESTESS are wrong Pay no heed to their signs and the omens around you – let faith be your shield when the DEVIL seems strong. JUSTICE, as blind as the HERMIT is ***** has seen that our TOWER is stricken and doomed. The SUN, MOON and STARS in their orbits bear witness as LOVERS  in ******* to DEATH are consumed… Egypt can’t help you – the CHARIOT‘s  stalled While the TEMPERANCE angel was mixing the drinks. The EMPRESS (a tedious feminist) preaches an upside down future, the HANGED MAN thinks… Though the WHEEL almost crushes you turning this way And the staff of correction has battered you hard I am sure you will make it, if only you pray to the sovereign elector who holds every card for a ray of redemption to light up your way. Let the major arcana now bow and acknowledge as  JUDGMENT is sounded and shatters the sky that righteous and just is the blessed Redeemer who loves every lunatic card-addled dreamer like you and like me. Therefore hear as I cry that the WORLD in its fulness can’t harbor His love – nor the heavens within nor without nor above… May the HIEROPHANT‘s dynasty wither away and the EMPEROR‘s  scepter be broken to shards as the breath of God’s Spirit comes into our world to reveal the true STRENGTH of your house made of cards.
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Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 9:50 PM UTC
House of Cards
Bright child of the Tarot, a new age awaits you – but not through the mazes you’re wandering in. Your gypsy desire and clairvoyant excursions are setting your beautiful brain all a-spin. The dog at the precipice barks out a warning: the FOOL, the MAGICIAN and PRIESTESS are wrong Pay no heed to their signs and the omens around you – let faith be your shield when the DEVIL seems strong. JUSTICE, as blind as the HERMIT is ***** has seen that our TOWER is stricken and doomed. The SUN, MOON and STARS in their orbits bear witness as LOVERS  in ******* to DEATH are consumed… Egypt can’t help you – the CHARIOT‘s  stalled While the TEMPERANCE angel was mixing the drinks. The EMPRESS (a tedious feminist) preaches an upside down future, the HANGED MAN thinks… Though the WHEEL almost crushes you turning this way And the staff of correction has battered you hard I am sure you will make it, if only you pray to the sovereign elector who holds every card for a ray of redemption to light up your way. Let the major arcana now bow and acknowledge as  JUDGMENT is sounded and shatters the sky that righteous and just is the blessed Redeemer who loves every lunatic card-addled dreamer like you and like me. Therefore hear as I cry that the WORLD in its fulness can’t harbor His love – nor the heavens within nor without nor above… May the HIEROPHANT‘s dynasty wither away and the EMPEROR‘s  scepter be broken to shards as the breath of God’s Spirit comes into our world to reveal the true STRENGTH of your house made of cards.
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32
There’s a crystal ball that sits on my dresser that I never fully learned how to use.  There’s a pack of Tarot cards that reside beneath my pillow that I use to play solitaire with.  I have never known what it means to “Be like Jesus.” I find the numbers               13        and        18 to be rather unlucky, which is probably why I branded one onto me externally and the other internally.  I wonder if my grandmother now knows the secrets of the world, if my battle-eyed grandfather knows the key to redemption.  I wonder if my sister ever learned how to control the talking skulls in her closet. I wonder what my Pastor would say about my fear of Purgatory. Three days three weeks three years five years later and I am still waiting for                                                                      Absolution.
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Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 3:16 AM UTC
Revelations 7:06-14
I’ve been thinking about hands a lot lately and how fingerprints are like permanent, foreshadowing tree rings etched onto our beings; I wonder if the number of rings on my palms have any correlation to the number of years I’ll live or the number of years he’ll live or the number of years that she lived. I’ve been thinking a lot about         life lines        and        heart lines and if there is any stock to be found in palmistry; I wonder how my fate line got to be so muddled with my luck line.   I see my life the way a clairvoyant would: in cut-up and choppy strips of film— I should have seen the omens, I should have read the smoke signals, I should have recognized the cards. Act One began on a waning crescent moon and continued until its gluttonous belly had swollen with light; I thought to myself that craniums made of gallium often melt the quickest, that blood filled with plutonium often flows the slowest.  I would have given my body up to the pathologist free of charge, would have let him dig his hands into my entrails for some sort of divination, some sort of revelation— I was never told to beware the Ides of June nor the Kalends of November. Act Two began with the birth of Jack Frost and has been continuing without intermission for the past four celestial cycles; I thought to myself that heart valves made of sodium polyacrylate often love the most, that sinkholes disguised as fingertips often feel the deepest.  He whispered in my ear cliched words about not believing in God, but how I made him feel blessed, and in that moment I knew he was the oneiromantic being that had been shadowing my dreams since 1996— I guess you could say that, sometimes, I believe in love. There is an art to fortune-telling there is an art to hands there is an art to bones there is an art to dreams, and over the years, I have found them coinciding more often than not.  In my sleep, in notebooks, in irises, in mirrors, in poetry, in small little sighs. I do not know if I believe in fate or destiny, in God, in auras, or in the Blood Moon Prophecy, but I do know that I believe in you.  I find myself writing sappy verses and smelling your shirts and I do not know if it is because I miss you or if it is because I’m bored or if they’ve somehow                        mergedintothesamething.   I’ve been wondering a lot lately about where you show up on my hands; about where he showed up and where she showed up.  I want to know which lines bisect and which lines fall short; I want to know if the resemblance between         mother        and         daughter continues into that of my palm lines.  I want to know if my life line matches hers and if my heart line is even worth giving away— find me in your crystal ball, make me your sacrificed animal, look for my body in the stars, and we will know that         it was all made to be.
0
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 7:02 PM UTC
Haruspex
I’ve been thinking about hands a lot lately and how fingerprints are like permanent, foreshadowing tree rings etched onto our beings; I wonder if the number of rings on my palms have any correlation to the number of years I’ll live or the number of years he’ll live or the number of years that she lived. I’ve been thinking a lot about         life lines        and        heart lines and if there is any stock to be found in palmistry; I wonder how my fate line got to be so muddled with my luck line.   I see my life the way a clairvoyant would: in cut-up and choppy strips of film— I should have seen the omens, I should have read the smoke signals, I should have recognized the cards. Act One began on a waning crescent moon and continued until its gluttonous belly had swollen with light; I thought to myself that craniums made of gallium often melt the quickest, that blood filled with plutonium often flows the slowest.  I would have given my body up to the pathologist free of charge, would have let him dig his hands into my entrails for some sort of divination, some sort of revelation— I was never told to beware the Ides of June nor the Kalends of November. Act Two began with the birth of Jack Frost and has been continuing without intermission for the past four celestial cycles; I thought to myself that heart valves made of sodium polyacrylate often love the most, that sinkholes disguised as fingertips often feel the deepest.  He whispered in my ear cliched words about not believing in God, but how I made him feel blessed, and in that moment I knew he was the oneiromantic being that had been shadowing my dreams since 1996— I guess you could say that, sometimes, I believe in love. There is an art to fortune-telling there is an art to hands there is an art to bones there is an art to dreams, and over the years, I have found them coinciding more often than not.  In my sleep, in notebooks, in irises, in mirrors, in poetry, in small little sighs. I do not know if I believe in fate or destiny, in God, in auras, or in the Blood Moon Prophecy, but I do know that I believe in you.  I find myself writing sappy verses and smelling your shirts and I do not know if it is because I miss you or if it is because I’m bored or if they’ve somehow                        mergedintothesamething.   I’ve been wondering a lot lately about where you show up on my hands; about where he showed up and where she showed up.  I want to know which lines bisect and which lines fall short; I want to know if the resemblance between         mother        and         daughter continues into that of my palm lines.  I want to know if my life line matches hers and if my heart line is even worth giving away— find me in your crystal ball, make me your sacrificed animal, look for my body in the stars, and we will know that         it was all made to be.
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