#omen
On this Birthday,
The snow fell,
The tree withered.
Is this for good?
Or for bad?
On this birthday,
The omen was undecided,
Leaving a faint trace of doubt.
On this birthday,
A warrior was born,
But also a saintess,
And something even more.
Who can find out the meaning of this,
Good for some, is evil for others,
While bad for some, is good for others.
Let this child decide her faith then.
And let the rest be left to faith.
Dec 20, 2025
Dec 20, 2025 at 5:40 AM UTC
Carrying prophecy in its throat,
the ink-winged watcher
tracks every tress dipped in the ink of omens.
You think you breathe—
but it measures the minutes inside your ribs.
To evade those silent,
witnessing obsidian eyes
is to bargain with death;
will you still give it a try?
Nov 14, 2025
Nov 14, 2025 at 5:52 AM UTC
Fortune shines upon you.
It smiles and it turns.
Anticipation it kills it drives.
It twists and it bends.
They say that "Fortune favors the bold."
When you've done nothing but,
It toys and it watches
Fortune descends upon you.
You can stare in disbelief,
You can pray and beg and yearn.
It will wait.
Whatever you deserve, whatever you want.
Don't bother.
It will spin and it will take.
Wherever the rain,
The scales, they mourn for you.
Sharpened teeth and hungry eyes.
You can hope.
But you as well as anyone know,
Fortune is in the audience.
When dullness strikes uncertainty.
How do you do it?
Pray, you fortunate *******
That there are things you've left unsaid that
fortune decides to spare.
-Percy
Sep 8, 2025
Sep 8, 2025 at 9:02 PM UTC
Vultures are the holiest creatures,
Tending with honor to the dead.
Bowed low to kiss the corpse,
With death covered wings and bare head.
They whisper to the frigid flesh,
Of words we could never hear, nor see.
“Your old name is not your own.
This dying earth; Not your king.
So forget the seeds that you have sown,
For I rename you “everything.”
Apr 25, 2025
Apr 25, 2025 at 7:18 PM UTC
They laid me to sleep
in a coffin made of glass
lined with velvet apologies
thinking I'd dream of oceans
or forgiveness
or that one perfect nectarine
I'd dropped in 2003.
The ceiling shattered
while a symphony played
... wolves chasing Peter,
and me.
They chewed on my ankle -
wearing a voice that once prayed for me.
My nerves bloomed bruises.
My hands turned to questions,
tossing runes to the laughing sky
that held no answers.
My skin peeled,
old wall paper from worn bones,
regret curling
smoke above untended altars.
This is what it must mean
to be haunted by your own heartbeat,
to taste rust on your tongue,
with feet that remember
what a mind will not admit.
Love letters delivered in salt,
signed in static,
that simply read
"Persephone,
come home."
May 9, 2025
May 9, 2025 at 11:32 PM UTC
till the ****** of love
she sang
till the drapes
in tatters, wail
they shiver
threads,
to ribbons
as tears
frail in spring breeze
stiff
bony breath of winter
chills the soul
readies me for the wound
she could dance
belly and all
entrance my naked heart, my dizzy doldrums
how all I'd wanted
was her
in the midst
of my forest
mistake my love
for the stars
she did
for the myriad
she tossed her well
into my coin
and I drank her in
leagues deep
with one penny
for her mind
read her life
saw her perfection stem
in my interest
coffers full
no rust, pon my copper touch,
dividends of time, we had
and yet
by the hour, struck every eve,
the penny wast all I had
for, spat back, my penny went
a man can love a woman
but should his penny be worth her life
her love, her heavens, her crown,
men,
with wallets heavy as banks
will buy her drunk
ego, pride, unmerciful
to the brim
with lust
save one's penny, she'd be rich
though poor all her days, without you...
Apr 20, 2025
Apr 20, 2025 at 3:42 AM UTC
Omens are not real,
if you just look carefully –
from where you're looking.
Mar 12, 2025
Mar 12, 2025 at 5:12 AM UTC
necromance inscape escape patience
albino Buckethead assault
nuts bucketbots' bolts
slug BucketheadLand vault
dark arhaic magic pick
Omen Wow
Nov 25, 2024
Nov 25, 2024 at 12:04 PM UTC
Red chinstraps
Wet blood, slowly drying in the evening breeze
Folded into wells of clouded waves with vague concentric origin
Closer, a flattened helmet, orange ochre blazing
Sun sinking, stars chasing
Warrior's stratified locks wisp out to vanishing points
Freckles of sputtered bronze
Slowly becoming red
Slowly becoming an omen
Foreshadowing tears to be wept
Horses that lay silent
On the eastern Ural Steepe
Nov 21, 2021
Nov 21, 2021 at 9:21 PM UTC
I climbed up the third nearest hill
to watch the sun set,
on the day that you said
you love me..
Alone before sundown with time to spare.
I hoped to catch it amber and full,
on a hungry mid-cycle race all the way up there -
where exactly, I did not seem to care.
You disarmed me.
And on trial I were.
Alas my time wasn't worth it.
The sun hid behind thick layers of cloud,
the wind picked up and I could sense the rain coming.
It kissed me.
A bypassing train covered all other sound.
And to think I quite longed to hear this,
as if I didn't already know.
The forces of nature felt like an omen.
A warning,
against a tempting last straw.
Not sure how long I ended up sat there,
but Venus rose up to wish me goodnight.
If this is a test,
I’m determined to pass it.
An omen at half-light always means no.
May 9, 2021
May 9, 2021 at 6:11 PM UTC
Omen!
The soul connection she felt with him was her first omen!
Most precious one but may be not the happiest.
Last winter, the green leaves dried out.
East wind changed it's fragrance.
Words of moment were altered.
Sign of Olives came by that wind,
was like the last one.
That time, she forgot the quest of treasure,
Distance of thought was getting higher than ever.
But she thought the cascade of waiting is over.
Maktub!
It was the time of realism for Another Omen,
No Time for lamenting for the past thought she had.
Maktub! New omen comes by changing the path of destiny, Not the destiny itself.
Persue of life meant to be followed anyway!
The Enchanted dream that she has ,
was the part of her melody of soul;
Only meant to become true.
After the long night,
At the moment of dawn,
Silence of heaven whispers the eternal truth of destiny!
Maktub!
Sep 18, 2020
Sep 18, 2020 at 1:33 PM UTC
pearl feathers you refuse to call white
scared it would mean something if you did
scared your scepticism will cup cold palms
around your warming neck and squeeze
what little belief you have out of you
a corpse will always be a corpse
but the soul of a wanderer will wander
into the wind and sky and I
and you too if you just let him
so let him
let him be the breeze
that forces you to stop counting
the number of days that have passed
since he last hugged you
let him be your buoy that
serves ground in an ocean
that knows of no stillness
let him be
the flickering light
the white butterfly
the fallen feather
he will be forever with us
let him be
Jul 25, 2020
Jul 25, 2020 at 5:57 PM UTC
I saw you from the corner of my eye
Flash black, you showed your face but yet your gaze couldn’t meet mine
Uneasy goodbye and sage burnt soon. Left this lingering feeling
Were you someone I knew?
Jul 7, 2020
Jul 7, 2020 at 10:44 PM UTC
I'm an ill omen,
I'm told.
It doesn't faze me.
I just put my mask on.
I become
a puzzle,
a labyrinth,
impossible to read,
not me anymore.
I'm an ill omen,
I'm told.
I wear my mask.
I'm fine.
I cry rivers inside.
You can't see how it breaks me.
You can't see how you hurt me.
I realised only now.
This isn't good.
This isn't alright.
Just because I can take it,
doesn't mean I should.
I bow out from this hell.
I will no longer apologise
for being me.
I'm an ill omen,
I'm told.
Your loss.
Apr 24, 2020
Apr 24, 2020 at 11:28 AM UTC
.
I came to a courtyard of my own making,
To a cottage by the sea at the worlds edge.
I furnished it with my left over life, complete,
Barren and colorless and I wrote the newest
Book of psalms out of tinder and flame, a tome
Of grey and useless poems, unheard of songs
And reams of flesh. There in the lightest dark,
By the Druid stone that was placed just for me,
I planted a creeping yew tree. And the moon
Sang in celebration and silence like a fallen
Priest.
Under the covering hazel trees,
That sprung to life after the longest winter,
Which taught me to forget my name, I now
Struggle with light and my body, warring, torn
Is fading slow, like the always arriving, down
Turning solstice, the climates of the mind,
Where it is digging the never ending shallow
Hole only the spreading eternal yew, that I
Planted, will ever know and only the Lazarus
Moon shall ever rise above.
I came to a courtyard of my own making,
Was it dream that led me there or my eyes?
.
Mar 5, 2020
Mar 5, 2020 at 4:51 PM UTC
It’s not big this crow of mine.
Head cocked, observing time.
Perfectly sized to sit upon my windowsill,
Reminding me that dread and fear are a bitter pill.
It calls to me
Stopping me.
I can’t hide and I can’t pretend,
It sees me, watches me my friend.
Waiting and lurking till the end.
Nov 30, 2019
Nov 30, 2019 at 8:25 AM UTC
His injured hand bleeds
As he became with greed
A simple change to him
For a large exchange
His mind is a stray
The greed is at play
The money weighs
His mind is broken
His words are spoken
Greed is an omen
That I like so very golden
Nov 15, 2019
Nov 15, 2019 at 8:38 AM UTC
This heart is going to stop.
It may be a scarry sound next to a pub,
A silent scattershot in a shop to rob,
An exciting smell in a chemic lab,
Or a short nap in a taxi cab.
Only God knows how it will end,
Passing through that particular land.
But indeed this heart is about to cease.
It is the keen and slow pain that nobody sees,
The heavy carelessness bringing no ease,
The fast heart-beaten minutes I lose,
My non-existent ecography's hues.
Only God knows how it ends,
While I'm passing through all these lands.
Oct 5, 2019
Oct 5, 2019 at 2:48 AM UTC
Life is a warzone;
yet here I am, calmly continuing forward.
Beautiful tragedy, the scene around me;
where the trees and birds sing together, but not everyone can see.
Opened by the will above;
I hold a force unlike the common.
I am no better, no worse, or etcetera;
I come as a messenger with an omen.
There comes hope in the eye of the sky;
Forces greater than you and i.
But with them will be a document listing lives;
Did you take the one request that came from the hope in the sky?
Open your hearts, for it comes stealthily;
I am not here to frighten you.
I'm expecting you not to trust my words;
but you also have the choice to.
Maybe it's wishful thinking, to hope that you'll understand;
I understand you, a child of Man.
But I am merely a messenger, a poet with an omen;
Surely you'll ponder this, hopeful because you can.
Sep 24, 2019
Sep 24, 2019 at 6:41 AM UTC