"cantations" poems
White Night Gown
I tell you the dude is crazy
he's out of his flippin' mind
why do you think he is here
he wanted his tennis shoes shinned
they hauled him in wearing a jacket with straps
babbling like a clown
so they registered him as a member here
and gave him this white night gown
twittering around here then there
yelling to no one it seems
ranting in cantations of ridiculous rhyme
spilling out Freudian dreams
sometimes whispering thoughts of lust
grabbing and pulling at his chest
puckering his lips like giving a kiss
his random waves of insanity crest
I'm warning you for this final time
there are villains in this town
not everyone knows about them you see
only the man in the white night gown
Gomer LePoet....
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 1:47 PM UTC
Brian Patrick
Cold blooded, darkly dripping
Teeth; long, sharp and oozing red
Nails extending beyond the reach
Wings embracing the night sky
Beelzebub scans the upper crust
His cantations include the depth of misery
The collector of souls and destroyer of flesh
The Rake, the conveyor of death
After the vernal equinox, preparations to begin
The first of the year yields way to St. Wineblad
Blood, body and soul gathered
More to continue for Walpurgis
As the sun sets, the three-eyed raven appears
The signal propels The Rake to flight
Searching, searching for worthy sacrifants
Low over the cornfields he marks his prey
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 8:37 PM UTC
Cantations whispered to me here
She smiles gently overhead
With a summer's orangey glow
And a warmth from ear to ear
I need not make a wish,
For I'll wait not for it here
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 1:53 PM UTC
I am all the magic I have ever needed.
I am this thinking, valid creature.
And while not every verse beckons
Itself to be the grestest.
It does desire to be sang.
Magic is poetry, it is the nature of the craft.
Words are cantations whick evoke emotion.
By my bedside, is my own spellbook.
I write whatever I wish to be and it is so.
That truth is as real as you believe it to be.
I bleed my own words, I suffer in their truth.
I become ecstatic, and at peace.
That is my serenity, my sleight of hand.
My magic, my fortune.
Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 6:15 PM UTC