#potions
I'm a witch;
Yes, I'm a witch.
I always fly with my broomstick;
To runaway from pain and sadness.
People say I curse princesses and make poisonous potions;
No, they're wrong,
Those are my medicines.
I make them for me to be okay and comeback to my senses.
Yes, I'm a witch;
And I'm not okay.
Jul 5, 2020
Jul 5, 2020 at 9:58 AM UTC
Feel my emotions
And here drink these potions
Hopefully these fix you right up
And make you feel tough
It's a mixture of 3 things
Love, Hope, Luck, all give means
Of seeing us together
After all the weather
These three things hold us
So please don't put up a fuss
Let the potions do the work
So our pain can hit the dirt
So we cannot be hurt
Let me help you
To help me too
Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 4:01 PM UTC
Conjurer of spells,
I stir phrases
in a witch's cauldron.....
wizard's breath to
tint the potion
Let it boil over
Reduce the excess
add emotion
and a four leaf clover
Temperature at serving time defines the tone and
type of incantation
Cold spells work
as heartless breaths
Warm ones jubilation
Hotter brew brings swift results
Careful even death
My sorcery is well disguised
as poetry and song.
I'll have you laugh,
yank a tear or
make a day
feel twice as long.
I'll look you in the eye
as I feed you all
my truths and lies
None can break the grip
of words I wield,
won't know to even try
Warlock...my voice enchants
let me whisper in your ear
You'll result bewitched....
but if I hold you high .....
there's never need to fear
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 3:07 PM UTC
Potion of love I make today,
from deep inside my heart.
It does radiate outwards,
to move within a spark.
It is da-lish so take a taste,
and you will be in awe.
Drink it up and feel blessings,
then you’ll fly high to soar.
You will be anointed strong,
with light and trust to be.
Grounded inside special gifts,
to wander oh so free.
Maybe inside gifts you’ll write.
Maybe you will speak.
People will come gather near,
to bow and kiss your feet.
Possibly you’ll learn yourself.
and find out who you are.
You have special gifts within,
so drink cause your a star.
StarBG © 2017
Apr 27, 2017
Apr 27, 2017 at 3:41 PM UTC
*Elemental Metamorphosis & Transcendental Milestones,
Sempiternal Origamis Of Her Temperamental Clones,
Spiraling Perpetuities & Her Sacrosanct Fortitude,
Procreating Tipsy Ruptures In Her Permeating Solitude,
Perplexed Momentum & Her Outlandish Constellations,
Nuclear Decay Of Her Masked Radiations,
Verbal Shadows & Her Tranquil Ascendance,
Encasing Her Tears In Liquefied Transcendence,
Yearning Oddities & Entropic Oceans,
Vitalizing Inexorable Emotions Into Phosphorescent Potions,
An Hourglass Existence Of Her Fabricated Virility,
Dwelling In Quantum Ascents Of Ardent Agility,
Silver Ghosts Of Her Prismatic Abyss,
Convicting Glass Houses In Her Ecstatic Bliss,
Telepathic Shades & Hollow Palisades,
Detrimental Novelists On Uncharted Crusades,
Pernicious Scars In Her Profound Gaze,
Erupting Genesis Inside Her Dimensional Maze,
Perplexed Periphery & Digital Fictions,
Annexed By Her Hourglass Depictions,
Breakdown Sanity & Her Concealed Screams,
Lifelike Dewdrops In Her Visionary Dreams,
Satellite Searchlights & Love//Less Progenic Mutation,
Paralyzed Sunlight Sparking Genetic Alteration,
Monochromatic Streams & Cinematic Realms,
Static Screams Of Her Toxic Schemes.
- 05:43 AM -*
Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 11:18 PM UTC
I found a coven in the woods
Amongst an oaken forest glen.
There,
hidden behind a curtain of Spanish moss,
amongst fiddlehead ferns and fungi bloom,
two of Gaia's faithful maidens
Enchanted me unwittingly, and took possession of my gaze.
A Pair of Muses
One, of the forest
One, of the sea
Both wind and fire
Equally
In opposition and in sway
Their incantations softly chanted
In a tongue to me unknown
and I listened quietly entranced,
between them in the glow
Of their cauldron hearth fire
Embers burning low
She of the forest was enigma, playfully shy,
coyly toying with the strings all men share,
And in her den, among her herbs and powders and potions
In preperation, and prepared.
She spoke in riddles and in parable,
Both with body and with stares.
Instantly she knew me
As I had never known;
As if Devined by a mysticism,
Ancient and pure,
So sublime it startles the soul.
In her eyes,
so sweet and sincere,
simplicity and innocence obscure
A strange and intoxicating knowledge
Of the rare and deepest old
Of the world and it's great secrets-
What its darkest reaches hold.
She of the sea
Was shimmering
A specter
Against the stars
Floating
She was Waves
Of aquamarine
Blue Green
Irridescent
Obscure and reticent
Behind her ever pulsing shade
Camaflouged by her surroundings
This piscian vision lingered in relief
Over a Gilded titan mother of pearl chariot;
The Persephone Throne.
She cast her stare upon me;
My hypnotized mind laid bare,
Wiped clean of anything I had seen.
No man could know her shrine of love
Nor the secrets that she keeps,
And none ever remember;
For one cannot resist her lair
An aquarian cavern,
A haven of calm,
Rest, respite and solitude.
It's lotus blossom lantern
Heart of glowing gold
Cast in shadow upon the ceiling
Glimmering radiant refractions
of the waning day
Her ocean sings soft and sweetly,
Casting mist into the air,
And a siren's song disrupts me
Ever suddenly
She washes over me,
Unaware
And though the seven signs they showed to me clearly
Still the stars I misread
through misted eyes,
and soon I fell to dreaming without sleeping
Or so I thought, though i shall never know
In their atmosphere I relinquished this mortal coil into the haze,
And disappeared completely
For an instant, just a moment,
perhaps it was hours.
Perhaps,
it was days.
And as abruptly as rushing water to the somnambulists face
I awoke,
As a dreamer awakes
from dreaming of waking,
alone and bleary-eyed,
dreary and confused
amid my own disheveled cave.
And where they've gone, I wish to go,
But where that is, I cannot know
For I would follow them until the days
Turned forever into nights amongst
The Forest and The Waves
Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 1:49 AM UTC
Do you see what I see?
We have descended into the belly of the beast.
Houses crowd together, their dead eyes staring out.
They’ve sprung up overnight like
Ugly toadstools.
The machines on the hill are busy
Scraping away the old. By that I mean
What was there before,
A forest naturally,
And putting up these monstrosities instead.
It can’t be let well enough alone.
There are too many people and someone’s got to make a buck.
The world burns down to the filter.
We suffer the fevers of the dry needle people,
And are left with what has been
Torn out from under us.
Some privy chair propped us up with potions.
Dutiful pawns, riding the arcs they have fashioned,
They pay us a small ransom
To cull and sell their wares.
Simple sticks and carrots are not enough to wake us.
The damage thus wrought we pay no mind to –
Subdivisions, shopping malls, parking lots.
There are too many people and someone has to pay.
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 9:33 AM UTC
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She had her own signature scent,
A lasting aroma, that lingers in every corner of her home
As the strong winds picked up the scent,
and move it quite a distance.
She carefully prepare the mixture from the earth
Cuss ,kuss grass, Jasmine, rose buds and roots,
Before she prepare the mixtures with that special touch
Like a fine wine from the winery,
“One more drop of Rosemary oil, she would say
This would make the scent last for eternity,
Old Granddad he would make silly jokes,
His word usages, madam chemist, a witch with a spoon,
But in the end, she would always made a special potion for him
We would carefully select the flaky mahogany woods shaving,
with combinations of fresh vanilla leaves with extracting oil with oils
Those homemade perfumes from flowers had lots of potential.
Granddad hand craft the wooded bottle stoppers with his chisel,
It was a joy to watch, the old Irish typhoon working and smoking his pipe
Old Alan baffler was Nana nickname for him
She would scold and speak harshly to us
for touching the those colorful luring bottles
“Don’t open those bottles, you malicious children
Else a witch would appear: She would often say,
For me, my nana was an old chemist,
with old decade’s wooden sticks.
Preparing the mixtures like a fine wine,
I am forever grateful for those memories
I should have follow in her footsteps,
Her secret potions, her gift,
Is worth millions of dollars today
Looking back on yesteryears , good parenting
and good memories
Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 8:48 AM UTC
How dreadfully awful of you
To play with a woman's emotions
Mixing in happiness and feelings of love
Then drowning her in heartbreak and sadness
Keep your concoctions far from me from now on
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 11:23 AM UTC
First you will need
a couple baby toes
one by one
in you go
Then add the hair
of Rapunzel's despair
You stir and you stir
Quickly then, add the kitten fur
Mix in the chicken feet
But paint the toes first
Then add the ******
From a stolen lady's purse
Add cream of daisy
And ***** willow too
Then let it boil
For an hour or two
Once it is done
Scoop the foam off the top
Ingest ****** daily
Drop by drop
Aug 30, 2010
Aug 30, 2010 at 5:46 PM UTC
Testaments wrote in language
Of old
Incantations,
Spells,
Elixirs,
To put hair on your chest,
"But accidents can happen"
Never sniff the jar full of mystery
Or you'll nose about it for weeks,
Platting,
Braiding,
Partings,
Upon it, styles just to hide the sight
Its growing from your nose in fact,
Do you like my
Moustache,
As you
Sneeze,
And then the secrets are out,
Mischief with papers of old
Noses shouldn't go
"Where noses shouldn't go"
Incantations,
Spells,
Elixirs,
Are for professionals, not those
"Nosy individuals"
Who should put things
Where they should nose they shouldn't go..
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 6:46 PM UTC
There’s *pills, potions
but nothing truly* can cure my emotions
© Matthew Harlovic
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 11:06 PM UTC
I know of a world with magic in the air
Flights of fantasy and the most enchanted sea
I'll take you there
Show you the forests of the fair
All you have to do is follow me
The oceans will take your breath away
Mer scales glimmer as they shed in currents
Dive down in the bay
And mind the seaspray
And you can catch one if you make sure to hurry
Deep in caves, dragons meet our eye
Guarding hoards of gold and jewels
But they leave to fly
Throughout their own wide open sky
And that's when you disrupt their accrual
Higher in mountains, gryphons make their lives
Wingspans like whirlwinds: mighty and wide
But diets on which they thrive
Can't keep them forever alive
So take a talon which'll never again glide
Mer scale, talon and stolen gem
I like these souvenirs so far
And when I look at them
Checking over again and again
We can make a potion of stars
But there are a few more ingredients
We need to brew our magic
I'm a potion genius
And also a bit of a deviant
Who cares if this gets a bit tragic?
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 11:18 AM UTC
Brewing a love potion is quite simple to do, a feather of a dove, and something from you.
A dash of sweet sugar, and bubblegum chewed. Yes, making a love potion is quite simple to do.
The voice of an angel must sing the spell and the holder of the heart shaped vial must never tell.
You cannot acheive greatness without these things, and without your potion you'll have knights - not kings.
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 12:21 AM UTC