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Stevie Oct 2021
You can write me down in our history books,
Say that I am a star, Say that I am a ****,
Some treated me good, an left an impression,
Most treated me like dirt, but yet I am just a introvert,
content with my thoughts and not reality dashboard,
Am thankful for everything that happens,
It's just on simple decision,
to be happy with what I have,
Not for what I desire,
What I should Look like,
What I should be doing,
If the whole world is against it,
Take my head, put on the tower, on the spike,
so the whole human race can see the delusions,
That I once had in life,
No children, no husband nor wife,
just dreams and desires,
nothing that God's or power requires,
but I guess that you cannot be free,
to have your own opinion,
see the whole world truths,
when we all want to be,
Little pretty liars,
just waiting for our lives to expire,
I don't care for religions,
But am pagan at heart,
No training to believe,
just stick to training pigeons,
Happy, looking at Mother Nature Art,
that we are a part of destroying,
making up fairy tail stories,
I hate my own kind, Blackheart,
But bury that lonely mouse,
found in the forest,
with a prayer to Mother,
to let his little spirit,
roam free for eternity,
Let this little body, decompose,
and feed the land, feed the rose,
Prayers to Cernunnos,
the Protector of the Forest,
Protector of all thing nature,

Oh Cernunnos, forgive humanity,
They have lost they way of nature,
though creating power and legislatures,
So don't be angry with all of us,
some of us still love you as our deity,
of nature and all things wild,
Take and care for the spirit of a child,
who died, they passed in undefiled,
They are innocent, don't exile,
Exile those who chose the path that reconciled,
Hear the ones who are true to the land,
True to the animals and true to elements,
Hear our wolf kid howls,
We are the true light child, the one moon child,

You can write me down in our history books,
Cause of the styles I chose, because of my looks,
Hell or Heaven, Exile or Free,
Don't class me, I was never one of those crooks.
Pagan Paul Aug 2017
.
When you caught my wandering eye,
love was a small word to hide behind,
an improper play seen through a diaphanous veil.
There was a new star in the sky, a mint room,
still searching for a lost dream.
I sit and watch a world die, and another take its place,
a kaleidoscope colander, as silence has its throat cut
with delicate skeletal lace and a face of porcelain.

A whisper to the zephyrs of second glance
echoing through the histories of the future,
a plea from a roving orb like a mute scream.
Did you hear me talking to the wind
where the wild things grow, recapturing misty joys.
As the Horns of Cernunnos reflect the primal stag
and the cusp of the Moon vibrates a soliloquy,
you caught my wandering eye.


© Pagan Paul (17/08/17)
.
antlers
fourteen points
cernunnos stirs
while the daffodils
reach their thirties
orderly routines
-
stones start skipping
replete potholes, puddle-filled
paving the way
capsizing axles
-
sipping steam from fog clouds low-hanging
not really minding that my shirt is wet from the concrete
tlp
What glamour could possibly be gained from this untrusion
hiphiphappy happy happy days
all the live long [(sk-ii-p-ii-ng---sk-ii-p-ii-ng)]
she should've shifted shape and shelter
_______
now I lurk, thick-in-the-murk
underneath
-
a witches brew of acrid broth
quicksand | quicksilver
dwelling under porches (lucid) dreaming
tapping out thoughts with a six letter alphabet
we gather in the quarries: VIOLETMASS
underneath the newly linen husk of vapor
underneath the ethereal 0eye0
counterclockwisemarching --- total separation
---
---
At first, it was my grandmother's embrace that shattered the veil.
It was July and the tulips were in bloom; red and yellow
    - like bold comic panel fire.
She had picked me up from the tilled garden ground and placed the
    okra seeds in my hand to plant all on my own.
It was before the yard was fenced in, and before her mind was cloudy.
    Before the alley was paved, and before the preacher was replaced.
In those days, I could escape under a blanket and afternoons
    were a thing to be reckoned in the eyeseyes of a lie she saidin the neyeght kindlingsprinwintefalummer when christmas when birthdawndaynoondusknight iiwithwhatwhichii crippled finger
when the time is slower and the eyeseyesiiis are right and the skeye is wheyete with the sclera of 'SCYLLA'  that hangs ever still in looming presence for iiii am the all-maker the breaker of thine ****** tonguu003....             NO REACH
FAULT
crumbllllllllllllllllllllll 000000 lllllllllllllllllllllllll
                                       ­ 000000
                                          000000
        ­                                    000000
                      ­                        000000
                                  ­              000000
--undo
0
6
1
6
00:.,-..
.-undue::
.:-
momma­=bogmama=mulch=lather
kruksog
..-.:
*
..:
-.:
.-:-.:
--:
63­ 72 75 63 69 66 79 20 74 68 65 20 77 65 61 6b 20 73 61 69 6e 74
-
marchingmarchingmarchingmarching
esiwkcolcretnuoc
chant the wave abackISAY with vestigia((nge((l wings
and stoke the fla(mes)merize with-or-out gallant spree
THOTHTHETHOUGHTTHINKER
THOTHTHETHINKEROFTHOUGHT
HERMETIC
HERMESOCYLCONE
we sprinkle the drops of cymbal tonic downward
in the pattern so elegant so rooted upon )we(
the ones who kept the secret in our teeth
that was told to mercurio and passed on to ego
sheltered by cernunnos//squandered by that !B/A/S/T//A/R/D G/O//A/T¡
to mark the coming of that with nine heads
that with eighteen horns for eighteen years
that with eighteen eyes for BABYLON'S HAGGARD ****
that with fivehundredfortyteethththth
spit powder faith upon the squelching pest
let him see him
let me son
I am the strongest of the creatures
-
-
-
cellar door dribbledribble--
no more are words beautiful-
-
-
++++++
++++++
++++++
++++++
++++++
++++++
DONOTLET­THEDOGOUT
DONOTLETTHEDOGOUT
DONOTLETTHEDOGOUT
DONOTLETTHEDOGOUT
D­ONOTLETTHEDOGOUT
DONOTLETTHEDOGOUT
THATDOGWITHNOLEG
THATDOGWITHCR­USTYEYES
DONOTLETTHEDOGOUTJOHNNYSOHELPMEGOD
DONOTLETTHEDOGOUTJOHN­NYSOHELPMEGOD
DONOTLETTHEGODOUTJOHNNYMYSONSOHELPMEDOG
DONOTLETTHE­DOGOUTJOHNNYMYSONMYONLYSONWHOIKNOWSTILLLOVESMESOHELPMEGOD
THATDOG­TELLSYOUTHINGSABOUTMEIKNOWIT
THATDOGTELLSYOUIMAWHOREANDYOUKNOWTHA­TSNOTTRUE
-
-
-
;
UNDO
=
oor

_
__
_­
----------------------

_____
underneath
I lurk, thickinthemuck
there''''''s bed for you
bed of you
bed of goo
bed w(h)eredog lay
licked clean
god in statue
no speak
not to me
maybe to the tip-toe man
but not me
knot anymhore
-
-
-
-
-
-
They told me I must go back to them, but I could see you later.
I saved the paper, the one you gave me.
They told me I could see you later.
They told me.
Dog told me.
Bless us.
Ysgramor.
         |
         |
         |
         |
         |
         |
-------------------
| r| o| o|t|s|
underneath
and I am sleeping
dreaming
feeding god
164 154 160

Inspired a lot by the recent influx in spam on this site.
nick armbrister May 2020
The mother dodged most of it; some connected and singed her hair. A shriek was the reply. As was a return spell. The air glowed red and shimmered. Mother Goddess didn't wait to see if her spell had worked, she sent a second and then third. Different ones to shatter Elleswyth's body and then freeze the bits. But the witch was both faster and younger than the Mother Goddess; both spells missed by millimetres. The witch jumped twice her height and spun in mid-air. And fired another spell. This hit home, flooring the Goddess. She fell to the floor, held in place by invisible singing energy. Gaiana was a prisoner now, the first time ever in her infinite eternal life. Her eyes glowed orange, then azure and finally, white. "Free me now! Do it and I'll let you live."

Cernunnos was earthbound and in hiding. His mother could defeat his protégé; he was tired and needed to rest. And plan Elleswyth's downfall. He muttered under his breath, "This creation of mine has gotten out of hand. I've gone too far. It must end now. If my mother fails..."

Gaiana did fail. She lay dying in a pool of blood. Elleswyth spat on the almost dead Goddess and stomped past to the edge of the sky world. Then she launched herself into space. "Here I come Cernunnos. Revenge will be mine, again."
She felt herself hurtle down, falling through the chill of the upper sky, her skin fading to white as the cold bit into her limbs and goose bumps ran across her bare skin. The blue planet fast approached and she wind milled her arms to slow her descent. The planet shuddered as a shock wave circled the hemispheres when she broke through the atmosphere and landed gently feet first on the yellow sands bordering the furious seas. She looked around her. She had not been followed. Elleswyth glanced at her tattered bloodstained clothing and grinned. She whispered to the white waves, immediately they gentled and she slipped off her tunic and slipped naked into the heated waters.
by Nick Armbrister and P.J. Reed
Janet Doyle Jul 2021
The stones stand quiet, stained with blood,
Heedless of Odin’s eye, Noah’s flood,
The morning of memory, the dawn of time,
Pink skies were hazy, light eyes sublime,
The chants they rose up, mountains shook,
The tales fantastic, old Gods they took,
They took the children, they took the old,
They took the mothers and heroes bold,
To the land of Faerie, the land of song,
Our souls remember bright Tir Na Nog,
Cernunnos and Mother Danu,
Father Nuada, Ceridwen, Lleu,
The fair Arawn and Dagda, kind,
As noble Bridget can still remind,
Time goes backwards, forever on,
And what’s remembered is never gone,
The stained blood still beats through our veins,
Our light eyes wonder at what remains,
We read the poems, we walk the hill,
We celebrate the high days still,
And the Land of Faerie isn’t far away,
It lies in dreaming, still young today,
Where The Green Man sits on his forest throne,
And The Morrigan still calls her own.

JDoyle
poetryaccident Sep 2018
Look to the gender no longer compliant
that past pawn to the powers is now defiant
when the demure halos are put aside
switched for the headdress of power’s might

shared with those yearning strength
Pan and Cernunnos share vigor
Mother fixing the future path
conveyed to her daughters divinely blessed

vitality evoked on base desires
no longer the venue of masculine
look to the spiraling of maiden forms
holding sun to the moon’s pure wants

on longer suborned to kowtow
fertility seeks those who know
on pointed conveyance the yoke is tossed
tapping lighting from the sky

consider when halos are put aside
held in reserve while power is grasped
channeled by tips on top of head
horns exchanged for circlet of light

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180906.
The poem “Horns Exchanged” was a poetic exploration of the quote “Halos and horns are interchangeable, how dangerous can that be?” by Jordan Sarah Weatherhead.
Stevie Dec 2020
When my time comes and I past,
Do not stand above and weep,
This is where I lay forever asleep,
Thousand's Memories, had many enemies,
seen many discoveries, death is just life summaries,
You may seen my tombstone alone and neglected,
Date and name chiselled out on polished stone,
Decaying and becoming nothing but bone,
Reaching out to all those who cares,
it is too late to mourn, death affairs,
Just put me in a sheet and bury me, Unethical,
Please, Don't poison my body with Embalming chemicals,
My blood, My Body Fluids, Drain in to you,
Pure and True, Allow me provide the plants to grow,
While I feed and Nurture your soil, Nurture your soil,
I won't allow the Human Death culture to spoil,

When my time come and I past,
Remember that I had a blast,
So plant the tree's, Flowers above,
and watch them grow with my love,
watch the wild animals play above,
see the true love from the two doves,
Most of humanity was undeserving,
My spirit running free and observing,
Waiting for them all to conserve and preserve
Still acting like there always do, quiet absurd,
Was it natural, was it suicidal,
Maybe my religion was the Mother Earth's bible,
Maybe I could not stay another day,
to love, To laugh, to work and to play,
Watching this world decay, this way,
I think my time is near, or tell me when it is, Hel,
This whole world is my hell, Farewell,
Let me run wild and Free, Cernunnos,
Where no one knows,
Let me join my Animal Brothers and Sisters,
where they play and run, like winds of whispers,
In the Spring, Autumn Equinox, Midsummer and Winter Solstice.
Sean Crewson Apr 29
Curling buds,
Growing Moisture,
Fertility hops to.
Eostre watches;
Sprigs peek out,
Leaves spring gently
Into Existence.

Cernunnos
Is invoked, and
Brings life forth.
The old hag
Succumbs to
The horned
Man.

Her
Cold heart
Warms to
A gently
Breeze,
And brings
Blood to
Life.

— The End —