"bewitch" poems
Let me meet you in a marbled
field of
sand...
Though
you bewitch me with clifftops hooded in emerald grass ...
Though
your sheep bleat loudly the marvel of your serenity...
Though
you wait patiently beyond your lonely precipice,
I cannot endure the eons
raging against the cliffs of your security.
Every
passing year, the thunder of my broken waves
gouges deeper into your wounded coastline.
Every
rock torn from your embrace, resounds the pain of our growing rift
Every
crumbling cliffs edge dissolves the beauty I held in reverie...
I wound us in this way.
Let me meet you in a secluded
gentle
cove...
There,
upon quieted sands, my waves will softly stroke your skin.
There,
the lions will laugh in cacophonous delight at our simple joy.
There,
our worlds will dance as pebbles tumble into diamond crystals.
There, a child will listen woefully,
the sea song of our love.
With eyes in contented darkness,
With a soul filled, overflowing
With the power of bearing witness
to this daily wonder.
Each
breath brings her deeper into the burning core of her mind,
Each
thought sparks the flame brighter
Each
billowing blaze will enliven her roots, and
she will bloom.
Then,
her eyes will open to a shimmering world,
glistening through tears of quiet understanding.
Then,
breath will guide the salt of our dance into her veins
Then,
she will dance to the song of our world.
With arms wide as eyes,
she will embrace
this treasured moment
With the divinity of her mortality.
When the moment calms, she will walk solemnly through our shallows.
When my waves pull home at her ankles,
When the crystalline pebble shines brightly in her visage
she will reach with focused surrender through my water for a memento
of the love she feels so presently.
In our slow dance,
of Land and Sea,
our love bears its fruits in tiny treasures.
In her little pocket,
the diamond of our love
will travel further into your heart than my waves ever could.
In this way...
you and I grow fonder
with every passing day.
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 11:05 PM UTC
Come, my darling, let us dance
To the moon that beckons us
To dissolve our love in trance
Heedless of the hideous
Heat & hate of Sirius-
Shun his baneful brilliance!
Let us dance beneath the palm
Moving in the moonlight, frond
Wooing frond above the calm
Of the ocean diamond
Sparkling to the sky beyond
The enchantment of our psalm.
Let us dance, my mirror of
Perfect passion won to peace,
Let us dance, my treasure trove,
On the marble terraces
Carved in pallid embroeideries
For the vestal veil of Love.
Heaven awakes to encompass us,
Hell awakes its jubilance
In our hearts mysterious
Marriage of the azure expanse,
With the scarlet brilliance
Of the Moon with Sirius.
Velvet swatches our lissome limbs
Languid lapped by sky & sea
Soul through sense & spirit swims
Through the pregnant porphyry
Dome of lapiz-lazuli:-
Heart of silence, hush our hymns.
Come my darling; let us dance
Through the golden galaxies
Rhythmic swell of circumstance
Beaming passion’s argosies:
Ecstacy entwined with ease,
Terrene joy transcending trance!
Thou my scarlet concubine
Draining heart’s blood to the lees
To empurple those divine
Lips with living luxuries
Life importunate to appease
Drought insatiable of wine!
Tunis in the tremendous trance
Rests from day’s incestuous
Traffic with the radiance
Of her sire-& over us
Gleams the intoxicating glance
Of the Moon & Sirius.
Take the ardour of my impearled
Essence that my shoulders seek
To intensify the curled
Candour of the eyes oblique,
Eyes that see the seraphic sleek
Lust bewitch the wanton world.
Come, my love, my dove, & pour
From thy cup the serpent wine
Brimmed & breathless -secret store
Of my crimson concubine
Surfeit spirit in the shrine-
Devil -Goddess ****** *****
Afric sands ensorcel us,
Afric seas & skies entrance
Velvet, lewd & luminous
Night surveys our soul askance!
Come my love, & let us dance
To the Moon and Sirius!
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The Tingling
Pulsing
Throbbing sensation.
The thought
Of your sweet slow
***********
The approval to claim your
Deepest Redemptions
Your Temptations
Delivering me
Blissful Salvation.
Belly button deep
Seeking for keeps
Your palms grip my hips,
My hips switch
Like a gypsy.
You bewitch me.
Twitching
Writhing
Spell-bound beneath me.
You beseech me.
Eyeballs rolling back into their rightful sockets
If you can pry the clasps open ill give you the key to the locket
Like Future said,
Ill put your heart in my pocket.
Soaring inside me to destinations reached only by rockets.
Fingers tantalizing hard *******
Love fluid gushing with rip tide strength ripples.
Mary Jane modeling between my fingers,
Idoling bliss towards the tips,
My fingers seek a settling seat upon the floor of your luscious lips
-Lust at your own risk
Inhale the kush
Push me to the depths of my mattress
Submerge me beyond the sheets,
Beyond the springs underneath,
Beyond the heights of my wildest dreams
Make me shy, make me fly
Provide me your name so I can surrender and scream.
Dec 31, 2012
Dec 31, 2012 at 5:46 PM UTC
A sweet disorder in the dress
Kindles in clothes a wantonness:
A lawn about the shoulders thrown
Into a fine distraction:
An erring lace which here and there
Enthrals the crimson stomacher:
A cuff neglectful, and thereby
Ribbons to flow confusedly:
A winning wave (deserving note)
In the tempestuous petticoat:
A careless shoe-string, in whose tie
I see a wild civility:
Do more bewitch me than when art
Is too precise in every part.
2.1k
~~~°°♡°°~~~
before a golden
bowl she stands
crystal sceptre
in her hands
~
exquisite form
bone china face
possessed of
perfect poise
and grace
~
hair so fine
lustrous, rich
like cornsilk platinum
to bewitch
~
eyes of wisdom
seas untold
revealing naught
but deepest
SOUL
~
encrusted sheath
shows hips that flare
diaphemous sleeves
lift with the air
~
oval jaw
cheekbones strong
her lips move
in elvish song
~
what does she know
that lights her eyes
violet
profoundly
wise
~
but sadness fills her
as she sings
she can't possess
The one
great
RING
~
mistress of
the wooded lands
monarch
noble
ethereal
GRAND
~
before a bowl
she casts her spell
immortal
queen
GALADRIEL
~~~°°♡°°~~~
SoulSurvivor
(C) 12/30/2015
all rights protected
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 2:51 PM UTC
ЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖ
*Mystical Goddess of Night times
Queen of the caliphets
Daughters of the Caribean blue
As days did mark quarters
As lilies did spark waters
As rain lit the hydrosphere
And green fit the atmosphere
As oceans falls beckoned on MĔ*
And open floors endowed the ŚĔÁŚ
*And the moon thrilled a beguiling dark
And the beam filled a bewildering black
I call on the gods beneath the seas
Heed me to a wavering ŦÁĹĹ*
*Mystical daughters of the hereafter
I become the waters that flow endless
I become the rain that melts the patch
I become the tussles of a million ŴÁŤĔŔ*
*I swivel and swim through an unseen world
And when darkness falls,
I stand
I watch
From a scoring cosmos above
I render the sea blue
Glowing from an encapsulated moon
Tearing all obstacles
I am Luna
Queen of the Moon
I bewitch the night with my mesmerizing glow
And when time flips away,*
Ĩ ßĔČoMĔ ŤĤĔ ŚĔÁ
* *
ЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖ
*
ĔVŃÁ-ĹÚŃÁ
ĎĔČ 11 2016©
*ÁĹĹ ŔĨĞĤŤŚ ŔĔŚĔŔVĔĎ
Dec 11, 2016
Dec 11, 2016 at 8:18 AM UTC
I guess it was the acid
Frying your brain
You thought you'd just try it
For the thrill, start to drill
In my membrane
I must admit, I starved for it
But alas you pass on by
Leaving only footprints behind
And though I've always known
When rolling dices made of stone
To count those blessings I'll always have
So losing ain't that bad
And on this cycle goes
Keep racing on this very road
In search of ways to fill a hole
The bottomless pit of my soul
Beware this trickster, out to bewitch
She crawls into your bed and it makes you itch
Dim-lit may be my lanterns
Imagination figments
Accompany, me in my sleep
Willing suspension of disbelief
I had it coming
My snow blankets are melting
Your garden's disappointing
As are you Sir Dementor
I see now you're grey and decayed
Not worth a single cent paid
Fungi verses my bouquet
In Some Unholy War
I guess it was the acid
Frying your brain
You thought you'd just try it
For the thrill, start to drill
In my membrane
I must admit, I starved for it
But alas you pass on by
Leaving only footprints behind
And though I've always known
When rolling dices made of stone
To count those blessings I'll always have
So losing ain't that bad
And on this cycle goes
Keep racing on this very road
In search of ways to fill a hole
The bottomless pit of my soul
Well yes I know of the animal
In me a smothering towel
Bursting at the seam with fever
For an artist unobserved
A false representation
I guess a mirror reflection
Of funfair loving children
Now in my veins desire
Is spreading like wildfire
But we're dead in the water
All life left on shore
Warnings so deafening
Have broken all of our strings
Shelter from electrocuting
Of Some Unholy War
I guess it was the acid
Frying your brain
You thought you'd just try it
For the thrill, start to drill
In my membrane
I must admit, I starved for it
But alas you pass on by
Leaving only footprints behind
And though I've always known
When rolling dices made of stone
To count those blessings I'll always have
So losing ain't that bad
And on this cycle goes
Keep racing on this very road
In search of ways to fill a hole
The bottomless pit of my soul
A. G. R
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 5:59 PM UTC
Come live with me, and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove,
Of golden sand, and crystal brooks,
With silken lines and silver hooks.
There will the river whispering run,
Warmed by thy eyes more than the sun.
And there the enamoured fish will stay.
Begging themselves they may betray.
When wilt thou swim in that live bath,
Each fish, which every channel hath,
Will amorously to thee swim,
Gladder to catch thee, than thou him.
If thou, to be so seen, beest loath,
By sun or moon, thou dark’nest both;
And if myself have leave to see,
I need not their light, having thee.
Let others freeze with angling reeds,
And cut their legs with shells and weeds,
Or treacherously poor fish beset
With strangling snare, or windowy net.
Let course bold hand from slimy nest
The bedded fish in banks out-wrest,
Or curious traitors, sleave-silk flies,
Bewitch poor fishes’ wandering eyes.
For thee, thou need’st no such deceit,
For thou thyself are thine own bait;
That fish that is not catched thereby,
Alas, is wiser far than I.
1.8k
It was time for love that never shone
A southern wind so coldly blown
In lies of madness I walked by night
So frail and jaded these ropes of life
I gave in to my whispering voice
A deed so forbidden, so staggeringly moist
By lust of madness, insanity ruled
In guilt and shame an act so lewd
How such a feeling could bewitch my soul
No biologist or mindologist could ever know
Love is such a fine line and I crossed her there
Alone in the madness of eternal despair
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 8:53 AM UTC
**Beauty of presence, resplendent in grace,
such beautiful eyes, in a beautiful face.
Aphrodite child, exquisite in form,
an Orchid, so fragrant, with countenance warm.
To light up the sky, you bewitch, you beguile,
instinctive, reflexive, with Heavenly smile.
Galadriel Lady, the only one of a kind,
an Angel of light, and so refined.
Honourable woman, so noble of heart
genuine, proud, a woman apart.
Unfailing, loyal, a dependable friend
there when you're needed, always there to the end.
... ... ...**
May 2, 2011
May 2, 2011 at 3:13 AM UTC
autumnal leaves scent your hair
weaving the reverie of stranger summers
of smoke and arboreal decay
bone-fingers, ceramic mug
shivering *** under the wool
these septembers bewitch me,
their wincing smile-
how good it is
to feel so sad.
Sep 24, 2012
Sep 24, 2012 at 8:52 PM UTC
I thought it would be more romantic than this.
I thought it would strangle me with its strangeness
Walk up to me with a sword in its oriental mouth
And bump into me,
Jolting me out of my occidental seat into the stinking dust of the gutters.
I thought the Mohammed Ali mosque would wrestle me to the ground with its shocking bare immenseness.
I thought my nostrils would burn with the assault of unnamed spice.
I thought my ears would crumble with the muezzins call at noon,
When all the dogs in Cairo enter a canine Koran reading contest.
I thought the pyramids would crush me with too much history and indifference
I thought the city of the dead would turn my gut over in its emptiness and blank windows
I thought the Nile would bewitch me and turn my blue blazer to Joseph’s coat
I thought Tuten Kamens chariot would run over me
I thought so much and I thought so much
That it brought me here where I would not be except for Cairo
For Cairo was a poetic enema
And purged some foolishness from me.
She lightened my load
And with her sister Bombay
Will always be on my cerebral medicine shelf
To take in case of cabin fever.
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 12:55 AM UTC
in the annals of cricket
those of greatness get a mention
for what they've achieved on the wicket
these men stand head and shoulder
above the rest
their contribution
to the game
has
been written as the best
three men have inspired
younger players
in their homelands
they've accomplished
much on wickets
throughout the many cricket playing
lands
Steven Waugh(Australian Captain)
the master strategist
who had a captain's mind
replete with brilliant tactics
when he took to the pitch
the opposition teams
would quiver in their
collective boots
field placement
over deliveries
the weather conditions
all of these factors
actuated in his mind
so he could
bring an innings
of a notable kind
Sachin Tendulkar (Indian Batsman)
the king of the blade
who none can equal
in test matches
his cuts and cover drives
were worthy of an epic prequel
his style with the bat
twas magic to see
he had a prowess
of majesty
Vivian Richard (West Indies All Rounder)
he was never phased
he held his nerve
with the bat or the ball
a tradesman
who fielded what ever came at him
and in his relaxed style
chewed on a piece of gum
and demolish
the bails
with a Caribbean hum
cricket's hall of fame
that 22 yard pitch
where three greatest of the game
performances
did of fans
ever bewitch
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 6:45 PM UTC
It’s not always *****
And glass slippers
Handsome gloved fingers impeccably asking for
Just one dance
There aren’t always fairies with good intentions
And neatly pressed dresses
Popping out from
Rose bushes while you cry to
A mother grave
Sometimes dirt under fingernails
Doesn’t come off
Sometimes you learn to live by
Snatching crusts thrown in
Hot fires so you
Reach in to hunger
And come out with scarred fingers covered in ashes
Chores are not always performed
By animated, peeping creatures
And instead you know their presence in the dark as
Whispered tails run over your ratty hem
It’s not always a fairy-tale
Sometimes you sing harshly
To the tune of a whip on your back
As the words
**** from the cinders
Ring in your ears
But sometimes clever fingers steal material
Working late into the night
And pacts made with older Magic’s
Help you bewitch a prince so he sees
Only you
And sometimes you get to watch blood fall
On your wedding dress as your tormentors eyes
Are plucked out by winged doves
And you do feel happy
In the sunlight
Until in the dark, again
Hands run over you, whispering then
Biting like the rats
And you realize, lying back
That you have traded one form of servitude
For another
And happily-ever-after has
Only just begun.
Sep 2, 2009
Sep 2, 2009 at 7:46 PM UTC
At morn the Count of Greiers before his castle stands;
He sees afar the glory that lights the mountain lands;
The horned crags are shining, and in the shade between
A pleasant Alpine valley lies beautifully green.
"Oh, greenest of the valleys, how shall I come to thee!
Thy herdsmen and thy maidens, how happy must they be!
I have gazed upon thee coldly, all lovely as thou art,
But the wish to walk thy pastures now stirs my inmost heart."
He hears a sound of timbrels, and suddenly appear
A troop of ruddy damsels and herdsmen drawing near;
They reach the castle greensward, and gayly dance across;
The white sleeves flit and glimmer, the wreaths and ribands toss.
The youngest of the maidens, slim as a spray of spring,
She takes the young count's fingers, and draws him to the ring,
They fling upon his forehead a crown of mountain flowers,
"And ** young Count of Greiers! this morning thou art ours!"
Then hand in hand departing, with dance and roundelay,
Through hamlet after hamlet, they lead the Count away.
They dance through wood and meadow, they dance across the linn,
Till the mighty Alpine summits have shut the music in.
The second morn is risen, and now the third is come;
Where stays the Count of Greiers? has he forgot his home?
Again the evening closes, in thick and sultry air;
There's thunder on the mountains, the storm is gathering there.
The cloud has shed its waters, the brook comes swollen down;
You see it by the lightning--a river wide and brown.
Around a struggling swimmer the eddies dash and roar,
Till, seizing on a willow, he leaps upon the shore.
"Here am I cast by tempests far from your mountain dell.
Amid our evening dances the bursting deluge fell.
Ye all, in cots and caverns, have 'scaped the water-spout,
While me alone the tempest o'erwhelmed and hurried out.
"Farewell, with thy glad dwellers, green vale among the rocks!
Farewell the swift sweet moments, in which I watched thy flocks!
Why rocked they not my cradle in that delicious spot,
That garden of the happy, where Heaven endures me not?
"Rose of the Alpine valley! I feel, in every vein,
Thy soft touch on my fingers; oh, press them not again!
Bewitch me not, ye garlands, to tread that upward track,
And thou, my cheerless mansion, receive thy master back."
1.4k
Each atom, and the protons in its shell,(not to forget them too)
Vibrates when the damp rush of your
Breath melds to my flesh
Quickening my spirit with
Each and every Sip and blow,
Rocking me to and fro
As I wonder,
Why do you bewitch Me,
So Much.
~AD~
Feb 26, 2010
Feb 26, 2010 at 6:46 PM UTC
Beautiful, sweeping, seeping mist
Don't weep for me your gentle tears
But kiss the trees as only you can
Before their youthful leaves turn Gold
To be plucked or pulled down by the wind
Bewitch the spell till summer comes
And turn the Falls' head with drizzlin'
As you clasp bare limbs in paleing hands
Would you kiss the trees as only you can?
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 8:18 PM UTC
dark as the night
beautiful as a storm
your love,
a rose sweeter than
the sky
my everything
and nothing,
my live wire,
my shooting star.
touch me so i feel
alive, unwrap me
tender and warm
bewitch me with
your kiss until i
melt into the air
in the metals of a
sleeping world
gather me like
a flower, fly to
me like a bird.
Feb 24, 2019
Feb 24, 2019 at 6:33 PM UTC
[one]
love is:
a recipe without quantities, the pages all torn out and set back at random
here you are, take it, put the pieces back together
with no frame of reference
no identifying features
each part has innumerable intricate delicate machinery
that you will break, clumsily.
because you have no idea how to use it
and if you break it
you can neverever put it together right.
it will always be half unfinished
a line with the ending word
- minused
cut
dropped
forgotten or misused
lied to and abused
abandoned or pursued
[two]
this betrayed feeling can't begin to cover
the dismay when reeling from a bitter lover
in disarray fleeing from a sinful tether
bells gently pealing to mourn a death letter
unencumbered kneeling before a cement header
diving, graceless, screaming descent forever
praying without hope to a remorseless deity
something like asking a black hole for salvation
like looking into the mirror and seeing the Void
staring out at you with those self-loathing eyes
and knowing why you let that Beast reside
cupping in your hands the black foam that runneth over
glass teeth disintegrating in a holocaust skull
chewing up love like the last morsel of gristle
drunken tales told to bewitch the last symbol
but you're not bold enough to release the animal
so it rages inside
terrified
alive
cage-eyed
wild
the treaty for your freedom is in your peaceful kingdom
find it and flee from all the things you've become
sit down to rest your weary in the warmer season
but the fear will always find you
when the bravery has lost its reason
Jan 21, 2012
Jan 21, 2012 at 12:09 AM UTC
I can feel it bewitch
A scratch and an itch
A tickle and a tease
As if I have to sneeze
Maybe everything we want
Is right under our noses
And we're too vulnerable
To say achoo.
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 5:34 PM UTC
his candle light flickered
in the dark room
whereupon it drew
a beautiful moth into it's loom
they had a rendezvous
that did beguile and bewitch
as magnetism
plied in each love stitch
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 11:12 PM UTC
By Wednesday
I’m ready to
unhook
unhinge
unfold.
Peel this pale skin
right off these overtaxed bones
& let my soul sip
on all of the thoughts
I scolded myself
for thinking
while I walked
across the company parking lot.
I’m sure she would tell you
that those sipped thoughts—
they taste like slow jazz.
They envelop the tongue
without permission
& casually uncoil into
all of the beautiful,
tasteless language
that is able to seamlessly
twist and bewitch.
I’m sure she would tell you
that anything
worth a sip
is forbidden,
as she cups her palms
& presses them to your lips.
“Have a drink,” she’ll say,
“You need some color
in those cheeks.”
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 11:37 AM UTC
spider, your eyes bewitch,
i was lost in the depth,
though the vileness peeps through;
life, after all is transient.
Feb 9, 2012
Feb 9, 2012 at 11:17 PM UTC
You thought I'd be blinded -
By your charm,
And your smooth talk.
You thought you could deceive;
Little naïve me.
But what you don't know is that;
I am a poet,
A master of deception.
I hide behind words on a daily.
I can read between your;
Sweet words and;
Sugary sentences.
So please try your lines,
On someone else;
That will be easier to bewitch.
Bogus words,
Don't fool me,
Not anymore.
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 6:06 PM UTC
Do not listen to what others might preach.
Heart’s unrest from all the wrongs, do something
Before your life their crude instructions breach.
Diploma and money. Drown them in bleach.
A paycheck is a coward’s worshipping
Do not listen to what others might preach.
Life is too short so make it yours to reach.
Shed your suit and fly it up high, sailing
Before your life their crude instructions breach.
The day you obey, goodwill shall bewitch.
Hush backstage. For the show is beginning.
Do not listen to what others might preach.
And soon you’ll find yourself, nothing but rich.
Not gold, but the joy you have been looking,
Before your life their crude instructions breach.
Now the world needs you; a game-changing speech:
‘All you dare-to dreamers and self-seeking:
Do not listen to what others might preach,
Before your life their crude instructions breach.’
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 8:29 AM UTC