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the light brightening-to-shadow,
gradating

what
can be done,
what
we call it,
when
humans color,
bleach and dye their body's
hair

if only
we could gradate,
gray-date,
our lives,
select the days
we graduate
when
where
the light dissipates into shadow,
bleaching and dying
our lives

when, where,
we could be the being,
the changeling,
dyeing the destiny of our designation*


why would we need poetry?
Pagan Paul Aug 2018
.
i.
Smoke coils up and dissipates,
soon the images will be clear,
as she stares with cold contempt,
into the depths of the Seers Sphere.
And she stands toking her pipe,
watching as the story unfolds,
soon her hate will boil once more,
unleashing her vengeance of old.

ii.
Smoke coils up and dissipates,
a thousand lifetime's away,
blackened stone and charred bodies,
the remains of a village destroyed.
The flames still licking at the flesh
and melting mortar of cottage walls.
Raiding horsemen ride off cheering,
with swords, shields and firebrands,
carrying amidst them a prisoner,
their prize and sport for the victory feast.
Savages are these violent men,
barbaric in their wanton lust for war,
the red mist and the ****** fury,
it's all they really have a care for.

iii.
She waits with patient seething,
her moments will arrive so soon,
the spilling of her black arts,
witnessed by a Woman's Moon.

iv.
The Vale was so beautiful lush and green.
Steep sided, oak trees, clear blue stream.
With fresh grass on which horses grazed,
and smooth rocks where wild fowl lazed.

v.
But the leader here was not a man,
she was the daughter of this warrior clan.
Fierce, cold, she barked out her orders;
build a fire, make food, secure the borders.
Her status unquestioned by her riders,
they would all fight and die beside her,
and as the camp grew out much wider,
her boot casually crushes a hated spider.

vi.
Manacles held her ankle fast,
shackled as she was to a tree.
Withdrawn, shivering with cold,
still seeing her burning family.
Images scorch her private intimacy,
awaiting the moment of her epiphany,
eyes watching with careless vacancy,
preparations for the nights ceremony.
But she would not co-operate,
would not give her jailers pleasure,
as she knows these last few hours
would seem to her like forever …

and Nature weeps with a prelude to grieve,
as the Maiden pulls a dagger from her sleeve.


… deny them their sport she will,
placing the dagger 'neath her breast,
a sharp tug towards her heart,
a thousand nightmares laid to rest.

vii.
A thousand lifetime's away,
smoke coils up and dissipates,
a cackle rents the air like ice,
the time her Woman's Moon anticipates.
And the instant arrives with joy,
as the Seers Sphere is thrown,
shattering and cackling hold hands,
as the glass touches solid stone.
At that moment of contact with rock,
time slips into a reverberating shock.

viii.
The Vale was so beautiful lush and green.
Steep sided, oak trees, clear blue stream.
With fresh grass on which horses grazed,
and smooth rocks where wild fowl lazed.

And the earth heaved and tremored,
shaking the Vales languid peace,
uprooting trees with tremendous urge,
rending the loamy soil from beneath.
Frenzied horses scatter with fright,
and men are thrown up high,
screams and shouts of piercing pain,
and the stream suddenly runs dry.
The quake unsettles the warriors camp,
leaving many broken bones and blood.
Then an ominous deafening roar
heralds the arrival of the coming flood.
And water coursed fast into the Vale,
no longer pretending to be calmer.
All living men drowned and dead,
encumbered by their heavy armour.
But she was much fleeter of foot
and ran hard as the waters rose.
Tripped by a treacherous branch,
head banged, stunned, her eyes closed.

ix.
Sunrise saw many things.
Smoke coiling up and dissipating,
over the ruins of a village,
crows and dogs feasting well.
It saw
the hooded robed figure of a woman,
squatting on top a new grave,
smoke coiling up from her pipe,
cackling …

x.
She awoke in darkness.
It didn't take long to panic and scream.
It took no time to realise,
she was sealed naked in a coffin.
And she screamed and screamed.
Pushing at the sides, the lid.
The air was heavy, stifling, stifling, stifling.
Precious oxygen running out.
The coffin moved, and she screamed,
desperately scratching and scratching.
And in the box she heard … cackling.
Her frantic screams turn to sobs of pleading
to be let out, to breathe, to live.
She felt something touch her inner thigh,
she screamed, as it touched again feint.
Brushing it away as the voice cackled on,
more tickles on her thighs, she screamed.
And something landed on her face.
The feel of a large spider on her mouth,
and she screamed and screamed.
But the cackling persisted
as she scratched at the wood,
her fingernails shredding to pieces,
but the wooden prison gave no quarter,
the skin raw and bloodied,
scratching, scratching, scratching.
And in her tomb she screams,
she screams and screams and screams.

xi.
… sunrise saw many things.
It saw a new river,
wending its way to the sea,
caressing the contoured land,
it saw horses running wild,
across the lush grass on plains.
It saw
the hooded robed figure of a woman,
standing beside a new grave,
as she places the flame dagger
upon the Maiden's final resting place,
it saw
ice blue eyes of fire and malevolence.
Weeping.


© Pagan Paul (02/08/18)
.
3rd poem in Judderwitch series.
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2076298/judderwitch-the-beginning/
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1923972/judderwitch/

Today, Aug 2nd, marks two years on hp for me.
Thankyou to all those who have supported and helped me over these last 2 years. You are all greatly appreciated :) PPx xox
Pagan Paul Jan 27
.
Cohesion has been fragmented,
merely an old dissolved memory.
A shroud darker than pitch black
heralds the omni-directional strangler,
seeking to crush the fragile neck
and slowly asphyxiate the minds reality.

The turbulence of mute non-existence,
trapped in an endless glass sphere,
a cold snow-globe paper weight,
screaming for the end of the world.
Terror dissipates all common sense,
the inner head explodes and implodes.

A wracked skeleton of fevered flesh,
the violated remains,
beautiful and torn,
left,
when the butterflies of darkness
******
the fire.



© Pagan Paul (2017/19)
.
-gabi p- May 2016
daydreaming is like a fog
      that dissipates when you try to touch it
it’s that perfect mirage
       that can’t ever be reached

look! there she comes
     ”splish, splash”, that’s her
             stepping on a rainy day’s Night
but her head is always in the clouds

her mind reciting sweet words
         that will never be said
and her thoughts are running, wild
    chaos like tangled thread

“who is she?”
         and the birds, smiling with joy:
“it’s the daydreamer, she's the Daydreamer...”
    you know… daydreamers are always the bird’s favorites.
Tip Your hat
And curtsy low
The masses so mandate absolute guile
A handshake, a smile, a proper and refined bow!
To adorn thy head and semble wit
And do your best!
Take pride with etiquette
If not informed
Ye won't last a mile
And differentiation between animals distinguishes you,
Resplendent child
Wash your hair and underclothes with soap
Lest ye resemble sow
And goodness dear
Have I forgotten now?
Always remember to smile!
So I'll take your Winter clothes with zest
I'll scramble on point
No unruly mess
Oh, did i forget your coat?
No, I've got it, relax, care for a smoke?
My apologies, please forgive my latency
It must be warm in here for my blood
In fact...
Boiling over kettle within
Prevent me from committing sin
I do wish to vent
Pick up this pen
And release red wells from his dainty, fragile neck
Or...
The underbelly. It's beknownst to me entrails are thick
Now whatever shall I do with this fresh clutter?
I'll act for free, so cordially!
With my chivalrous lines
But can you, my friend, respond in kind?
After all, it's only common courtesy
It's over now, my fantasy
It dissipates with urgency
And this is my confession
Yes
Imbibed in me from every grueling, tedious lesson
An implication of uniformity
The daydreams borne from the perfunctory
This is for anyone who has ever worked in the retail industry. As politely as you can possibly express it.
Carter Ginter Sep 2015
I am darkness
a souless being trapped
within a world of expectations,
where we live for nothing
aside from our need to please
whomever we deem fit to be
worth suffering for.

Death looms around every corner
sneaking and leaking through
the walls and into the cavernous slits
dug deep into the unstable barriers of my
demented, sickened, disturbed mind.

I see nothing but never-ending black space
spanning for miles in every direction
but, sometimes, a flicker of light illuminates
a single line across my path
scratching through the key holes of
the hundred of doors, always locked,
protecting the world from my wrath and
holding me hostage
until Insanity offers its hand
to lead me to my only escape.

She is light
the brightness I've seen so rarely.
Her world, one of complete coherence
where everything serves its destined purpose
a cold world I know not of
but she is always so warm
so happy
and knows nothing of
the torment caused by that
blinding, taunting ray
trespassing into my world
my darkness
my home.

Sometimes, though,
it breeds hope of a better future
where her purity and
my evil nature can collide
morphing into an electrifying New
and it can be ours, together.

Then the beam dissipates
and I am alone,
again
until my nightmares welcome me back
and devour my soul until I drown
in my own destiny.
Nekhbet Hermit Oct 2018
I lay my head upon my mother’s chest
And for a moment, I’m a little girl again.

I remember what it’s like for the whole world to stop
For worries to melt away like candle wax
My jagged edges smoothed by a warm embrace
It’s a feeling I’ve rarely felt since

Maiden, Mother, Crone
I watch the wheel of fortune spin
Daughter, Mother, Grandmother
Me, Myself, I
The passing of time I there observe in all its stages
In our faces
Growing old,
To be young,
The illusion dissipates when I look into the eyes of those who I love most
In those luminous pools I see more than a person, I see a mirror
I see my connectedness and yet
There’s an immense need to defend what is mine

I wish I could stay here
Just for a little while longer
But we are all just passing through
I can only hope, this selfish desire
Is justified
Olivia V Aug 2017
softly, she weeps
warm tears caressing,
tracing her contours.
a breeze, so soft,
moves through her.
it's silent tonight,
and so is she.

tendrils of green,
sway above her.
a dance of despair,
of solace and sadness.
and she joins
and she floats
and she moves with this wind.

she thinks and she thinks,
of ephemeral air.
how it stirs and it moves,
then dissipates and departs,
only to sweep
across mountains and valleys.

she wishes to be,
no more than a breeze.
gentle but strong,
to be felt by all
yet seen by none.

the willow above
with its weeping green,
grazes her cheeks,
and beckons her gently
to join with those currents,
in their invisible journey.

and so her body fades
into mere particles.
she stays silent throughout,
until she too
becomes,
an ethereal gale.

and in her place,
there is now emptiness.
and the willow still weeps
with joy for her freedom ,
in despair that she's gone.
not meant to rhyme.
KnudsonK Oct 2013
Im so Alone..     ..... .on my own .
Im bent....Iam spent..... darkness my only friend.
Another secret we will share.
Inot sure when and I dont know where.
But I dont care. Im glad Im there.
It    Whispers  Images that come in waves...
Each appearing  in it own unique way.
In a  vibrant white and yellow glow..
A silhouette of a man...   I do not know.
The outline of a  very high bridge....
That spans across a narrow ridge.
Letters, numbers a bass guitar....
A lined highway road that  goes straight ,very far.

Each image manifests,and dissipates...
into the pitch black, empty space.
Illuminated in electric light.
Shifting shape before my eyes.
They see all ,theyre opened wide.
What happened to gravity.?Why do they glide?


What I thought was a loud buzzing hum...
Accompanied  by the pound of a  drum.
Is  the silence that  echos in  my head.
 It courses my   veins...Like the blood I have bled.
Only it  holds me here instead,as if im incased  in a ton of lead
To  my bed and pillow held under this weight.
 Only I could be fragile glass about to break
Until  I reminded myself that what I feel is fake.
Then my mind is pulled to a quiet hush. 
Where my  head sinks down in  inviting plush

Suddenly I feel as if  I'm floating  in time.....   
Forward yet I'm moving into mine.
Theses images -that  continue to fade in....  
Then changing as it fades right back out again.
 While others make there way with a pop
That flashes  down low and shifts up to the top....
And lingers for a moment til its shape forms  another to take its place.
 What omce  vague I come to realize that what actually fades in and out is  I.
In and out but forward into myself .I wonder how thought  it was anything else.
 Am I in flight or am I floating ...into the images I go through.?
Should I question if what I see if false or true?
I won't look down for fear the view.
It might will let me drop and'.I dont know if I want to start.

As I go forward   into my self I move  on- In this current  Im carried it pulls me  along .
Through a timeless space of nowhere.
Every thing is as meaningful  as it  is pointless  there.
 I m drifting.... I drift in a slow steady pace. 
Not just watching .....but Ive become part of the space 
Not only within.... but all over the place.

Interacting with each scene - that I see - as I glide.
Looking from inside .....but also within.
When what I watch ends....another begins.

As if it is the most normal thing in my whole life
What seems strangely familiar, Is too vague to realize.
While It escapes all  logic  Its so incredibly wise.
I even ask myself not to believe my eyes.
But Im true to myself I tell no lies.?..Not this time....
Not  to me myself and I.
I f  there were times , surely, this is not one.
  I see myself  doing things I've done
 And doing these things.... things I'd never do.
Yet Im continueing to do them all the way through.
And Im feeling the same emotions I see me haveing too.
They come and go as quickly as what surrounds me.
Whatevers around me..
. Laughter, surprise,embarrassment they go on and on.... 
Anger, contentment.....but  I feel mostly mostly calm.
  In a hum of  energy that  sometimes snaps and sparks.
But It continues in motion even when I dont want it.
 In a current pulled away  but within it ....Im on it.

In a flash I stop. It lets me drop...
With that halt - I m in a fall .
Gravity ****** me heavily away.
It pulls my body and stretches my face.....
It tosses my tummy like a carnival ride.
And me, with this awful fear of heights...
Thats when I remember- I know how to fly.
I dont end in a crash....I soar to  the skies....
Im an expert at this I barely have to try.

I feel so safe, so free from harm.Oh great ,Whats the noise coming out of my arm?
I this sound ,'What is it ?
Why...thats my alarm!!!
                       Eyes open wide.What a ride!
MEDITATION Astro glide.
    
                                      

                        ­          -
Chris Thomas May 2017
"A patient man bides his time,"
Theodore tells the man in the mirror
Tomorrow, levees will break and stories will be told
Of distant Decembers and forgotten fathers

Livelihoods will be threatened
And remorse will fall by the wayside
He watches as icicles on the awning melt away
"Warmer every day," he thinks.

He hangs up his scarf and overcoat
The way a simple man, with complex demons, would
Wants evolve into needs, all while anchors decay
And it unsettles a once-settled man

To think of the quality of glove necessary
To hold onto the wagon in this day and age
So Theodore pulls the door to,
Leaving Chopin's "Horseman" to ride in peace and pieces

He watches her from across the courtyard
"Such sweet bliss in her footsteps," he mutters
It seems to him as if the snow dissipates
Just from the warmth in her steady gait

He slides open the dresser drawer
A haven for scattered trinkets, odds, and ends
There, amidst all the corroded memories
Lies a corroded pistol, unspoken and unburnished

"And a lonely man drinks his wine,"
Theodore says, as intrepidly as he is capable
For there is a time when a father stops teaching
And a place where the sins stop searching

A last breath is deeply inhaled
But will never again find its escape
Theodore crumples to the cold wooden floor,
A simple man, finally free of complex demons
This piece is about hopelessness.
Cassidy Jackson Sep 2018
i isolate myself in my room and keep the lights turned low
the love i create within myself dissipates every time i breathe
you are only a figment of my imagination
my mind is the only solace even though she screams at me
i fall in love in seconds but i don't know what love is
the little girl i am knows nothing of this world
i can't live on my own
independence has never been taught to me
the only way i can stabilize is if i drown myself in concrete
who i am is not known
and who i am not is alone
Antino Art Oct 2018
If you're unclear about love,
return your heart to a place with fog
With clouds created from breathing in the cold during long uphill walks that end in a view of the water
Return the way daylight retreats to the grey embrace of the Pacific Northwest sky at the edge of winter, dissipates in all directions like ripples upon their misty bay
Return the way sunset colored leaves hanging in limbo fall back to Earth
Visions to pieces
Tears to eyes as condensation builds
against the glass of a coffeeshop window and distorts the view from outside and from within
Return the way rain lands on a broken sidewalk in Seattle,
not pouring so much as drifting
through what looks like a new morning
blurred with all the dark nights that came before.
Ellis Holden Jun 24
Ellis isn’t real
Dissipates after quick google search
But here she breathes
sempiternal memories
flow like a river
the resting brume on misty waters
twisting into the distant offing
the mellifluous melody of the ethereal past

like thunder above songbirds,
the illusion dissipates into a weazening
idealistic falsehood, an optimistic masquerade
the thrash of lightning onto deciduous skeletons
awakens the truth beneath

as the roaring flames erupt
the leaves effloresce to ash
the halcyon lies are swelted
into no more than gentle dust
the endless turned ephemeral
halcyon lies
burn into
ephemeral truths
Aj Jul 4
dusk makes its way to the tip of my tongue, and surprisingly, it's beginning to taste a lot like you.

it's beginning to taste like sticky peach halves; of artificial juice dripping from the home of your lips. the mix of sugar and honey and berries from the garden of a mess you decided to plant inside of me upon your arrival.

but dusk dissipates and my senses are heightened.

i can smell dawn on your fingertips, and see the stardust in your hair, and particles of the moon still stuck to your eyelashes.

i know i compare you to broken constellations and the revolution of planet earth, but you are what makes up the chaos of my galaxy.

bless the universe and the way she's given me to you.

may we rest in what's left of the worlds we've created for each other.
i don't know if this is to myself, my old lover, or the charm of a human i've been gifted with.
A M Jan 20
Outside the snow is swirling around
The bundled-up and the rosy cheeked
When they walk inside
Their glasses get all foggy

The fog slowly dissipates
Just to return again
When they take their first sip
of their steaming drink

The cold out there
makes it feel just that much warmer
in here
1/20/19
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
The quill's sodden ink evaporates
while this bell jar encapsulates
leaving these dreary words to permeate
only to rain back down and stagnate

this terrarium, my lonely estate
pickling eyes that spate
people peer through the glass only to deprecate
while I slowly start to acclimate

two horizons squint until light dissipates
allowing the darkness to overtake
monsters crawl out to dilapidate
snarls and growls devastate

this is fate this is fate this is fate this is fate
is it too late is it too late is it too late is it too late
echos verberate echos verberate echos verberate echos verberate
this is fate and it is too late these echos verberate and I ruminate
I ruminate and ruminate and ruminate and ruminate

with a languid gait
a countenance set straight
while I desperately try to create
a happy blissful sunny green free state

it's not too late it's not too late it's not too late
meditate meditate meditate meditate
don't let the glass alienate
pick up the hammer and swing
                                                       till the glass B    E      K
                                                ­                                R    A      S.
John Prophet Dec 2018
Humanity.
Humans talk,
communicate.
Been doing
so since the
first grunts.
For millennia
human sounds
have filled
the airways.
Dissipating
in the wind.
Humanity expanded,
communication
expanded.
Spoken words,
written words,
flying furiously
around the globe.
Communications,
thoughts,
information, most
lost to time.
Some stuck
in the minds
of man
and moved
forward.
Engrams tweaked,
thinking altered.
More people
more words.
Endless
conversations
endless thoughts.
Ideas, thoughts
flying around
the globe at
light speed.
Computers,
Internet,
social media.
Communication
increasing  
exponentially.
Most dissipates
some sticks
gets passed
forward.
Such is the
way
civilization is
constructed.
Stringer Jul 2018
Ode to sincerity
Unlike a candles flame
Wrath contained,
Dissipates not
                    but
        grows and gains

Wrath contained
A brick in a washing machine
A moth in a closet
Wrath contained,
A plant growing
As Providence's Gardener is perpetually hoeing
With a deft hand doubt's seed Wrath is sowing

Wrath contained,
Is Suffering's Yeast,
To its expansion there's no end
The closed mouth is an open space for Wrath to bend
Sprouts of hope Wrath's malice fends
               Away and blights
With its bligthening might
Grinds light to dust
Creeps under the plant *** it must
Break in the foundation it may
Once cheery now morose
Day-by-day Wrath dissembled its host
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