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"frightful" poems
I'll be eaten alive one day: one day, i see it in my mind so close to closure along an empty street late at night (owls just retired and birds not yet up), orbs of light tethered to tall electric poles cast dappled circles on cracked pavement; illumination and safety (for that two metre radius). Stepping between them like a girl child on stones across a garden, I anticipate each missed step as sinking into sand or frightful waves. Singing drunk back-alley lullabies i'll soothe the skelebabies in their sleep, their poor crusted noses snuffled against a cold shift of air (their private torment plastered over billboards with corporate logos and dim colours, suggesting the city's lights have gone out and the local government is in frantics. That is, after all, what you'd focus on) Girl child games were so tipsy and magic (and so close to real coldness); between two orbs of light i'll slip through the cracks in the pavement. THE END. (eat me alive, eat me alive, eaten alive by the wolf at the door)
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Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 6:36 PM UTC
Cautionary Tale
The mushroom The unfolding instant of creation (fertilisation) not an instant separate from breakfast It all flows down & out, flowing but that instant: not fire & fusion (fission) but a moment of jellied ice, crystal, vegetative mating merging in cool slime splendour a crushing of steel & glass & ice (instant in a bar; glasses clash, clink, collide) far-out splendour heat & fire are outwards signs of a Small dry mating ~~~ event in a room event in space a circle Magic rite To call up the godhead spirits, demons The shaman calls: “When radio dark night…” We are eating each other. ~~~ The Voice of the Serpent dry hiss of age & steam & leaves of gold old books in ruined Temples The pages break like ash I will not disturb I will not go Come, he says softly an old man appears & moves in tired dance amid the scattered dead gently they stir ~~~ I received an Aztec wall of vision & dissolved my room in sweet derision Closed my eyes, prepared to go A gentle wind inform’d me so And bathed my skin in ether glow ~~~ Drugs are a bet w/ your mind ~~~ The cigarette burn’d my fingertips & dropp’d like a log to the rug below My eyes took a trip to dig the chick Crouch’d like a cat at the next window My ears assembled music out of swarming streets but my mind rebelled at the idiot’s laughter The rising frightful idiot laughter Cheering an army of vacuum cleaners ~~~ Mouth fills w/taste of copper. Chinese paper. Foreign money. Old posters. Gyro on a string, a table. A coin spins. The faces. There is an audience to our drama. Magic shade mask. Like the hero of a dream, he works for us, in our behalf. How close is this to a final cut? I fall. Sweet blackness. Strange world that waits & watches. Ancient dread of non-existence. If it’s no problem, why mention it. Everything spoken means that, it’s opposite, & everything else. I’m alive. I’m dying. ~~~ 1st wild thrush of fear -A phone rings There is a knock on the door. It’s time to go. No.
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17.7k
Explosion
The mushroom The unfolding instant of creation (fertilisation) not an instant separate from breakfast It all flows down & out, flowing but that instant: not fire & fusion (fission) but a moment of jellied ice, crystal, vegetative mating merging in cool slime splendour a crushing of steel & glass & ice (instant in a bar; glasses clash, clink, collide) far-out splendour heat & fire are outwards signs of a Small dry mating ~~~ event in a room event in space a circle Magic rite To call up the godhead spirits, demons The shaman calls: “When radio dark night…” We are eating each other. ~~~ The Voice of the Serpent dry hiss of age & steam & leaves of gold old books in ruined Temples The pages break like ash I will not disturb I will not go Come, he says softly an old man appears & moves in tired dance amid the scattered dead gently they stir ~~~ I received an Aztec wall of vision & dissolved my room in sweet derision Closed my eyes, prepared to go A gentle wind inform’d me so And bathed my skin in ether glow ~~~ Drugs are a bet w/ your mind ~~~ The cigarette burn’d my fingertips & dropp’d like a log to the rug below My eyes took a trip to dig the chick Crouch’d like a cat at the next window My ears assembled music out of swarming streets but my mind rebelled at the idiot’s laughter The rising frightful idiot laughter Cheering an army of vacuum cleaners ~~~ Mouth fills w/taste of copper. Chinese paper. Foreign money. Old posters. Gyro on a string, a table. A coin spins. The faces. There is an audience to our drama. Magic shade mask. Like the hero of a dream, he works for us, in our behalf. How close is this to a final cut? I fall. Sweet blackness. Strange world that waits & watches. Ancient dread of non-existence. If it’s no problem, why mention it. Everything spoken means that, it’s opposite, & everything else. I’m alive. I’m dying. ~~~ 1st wild thrush of fear -A phone rings There is a knock on the door. It’s time to go. No.
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Escape pods Ferried fears   Gaping heart    Falling tears     Dishevelled mind      Emotional unrest     Watered ground     Familiar guest    Questioned answers   Unanswered questions   Glassy eyes    Increased tension     Dissipating hope      Chewed confidence     Broken spirit    Unwelcomed sentence   Failing health Unstable mind Choked fingers Flying blind  Pathetic plea   Stretched thin     Battered insides      Uncomfortable skin       Eventual stop        Frightful frights         Perceived freedom          Within sight         Bruised being      Absent gods     Relying upon    Escape pods
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Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 9:06 PM UTC
Escape Pods
Conjunctions creak, the adverbs ache, nouns bear more than they can take. Verbs are screaming for Ben-Gay while pronouns atrophy away. Adjectives have lost their bite, possessives just give up the fight. The subject's upset, naught agrees, which weakens metaphoric knees. Contractions all together moan; the objects better left alone. Ah, life is at a frightful stage when poets and their poems age.
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Feb 9, 2011
Feb 9, 2011 at 5:34 PM UTC
Aged methane
Gemini's delightful. Cancer is polite. Leo is romantic. Virgo's quite bright. Libra is creative. Scorpio, tenacious. Sagittarius, festive. Capricorn, vivacious. Aquarius is witty. Pisces, prolific. Aries is charming. Taurus, terrific. ----------*--------- Taurus is quite stubborn. Aries, a frightful ***** Pisces, a flaming cheapskate. Aquarius is mostly crude. Capricorn's nasty and spiteful. Sagittarius, shallow and weak. Scorpio's flagrantly flighty. Libra, annoying and meek. Virgo's simply pompous. Leo, clearly deranged. Cancer, always impossible. Gemini, downright strange. *
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Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 3:10 PM UTC
* Astro.Schizo *
Here, where the lonely hooting owl Sends forth his midnight moans, Fierce wolves shall o’er my carcase growl, Or buzzards pick my bones. No fellow-man shall learn my fate, Or where my ashes lie; Unless by beasts drawn round their bait, Or by the ravens’ cry. Yes! I’ve resolved the deed to do, And this the place to do it: This heart I’ll rush a dagger through, Though I in hell should rue it! Hell! What is hell to one like me Who pleasures never know; By friends consigned to misery, By hope deserted too? To ease me of this power to think, That through my ***** raves, I’ll headlong leap from hell’s high brink, And wallow in its waves. Though devils yell, and burning chains May waken long regret; Their frightful screams, and piercing pains, Will help me to forget. Yes! I’m prepared, through endless night, To take that fiery berth! Think not with tales of hell to fright Me, who am damn’d on earth! Sweet steel! come forth from our your sheath, And glist’ning, speak your powers; Rip up the organs of my breath, And draw my blood in showers! I strike! It quivers in that heart Which drives me to this end; I draw and kiss the ****** dart, My last—my only friend!
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The Suicide’s Soliloquy
Beastly is this monster state yet many damsels cannot avoid Some may call it disturbingly conflicting and become annoyed Where rationality coexists with irrationality in an unstable realm Pretty monster states navigate this journey as captains at the helm Pretty monster states, Pretty monster states No need to disguise your fury or depressions Pretty monster states, Pretty monster states This is just part of your amazing expressions Wonder is this monster state since the inception of Adam and Eve Men can only hope to be compassionate, steadfast and never peeved One moment, pretty monster states can be loving and best friends Next moment, challenging one’s good nature and spirit to extreme ends Pretty monster states, Pretty monster states No need to disguise your fury or depressions Pretty monster states, Pretty monster states This is just part of your amazing expressions Frightful is this monster state like a suspenseful thriller or mystery Only those who are not faint of heart can sleuth this case history Where a profound will of character serves to stabilize one’s constitution Bringing the monster state to an uneventful but amenable restitution Pretty monster states, Pretty monster states No need to disguise your fury or depressions Pretty monster states, Pretty monster states This is just part of your amazing expressions.
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Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 10:44 AM UTC
Pretty Monster States ***
The sky was under stress Fire lit up the night Winds wailed and screeched Foundations were blasted Dread, death, doom and demise A woman crying, "The world nevermore!" A man thinking "It will be an eternity for daylight." A baby, so fragile and small, lays in the street. Danger arises Hope shattered Where is the light? And the salvation? Thugs and gangs roam the cities Terrorists never seem to stop People will die 'til the Day. Lucky seven no longer brings Death and sickness and disaster come Will the suffering end And will the Earth be rebuilt again?
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Nov 14, 2012
Nov 14, 2012 at 6:50 PM UTC
Frightful Night
Grodey gassy bubble flow Up to the surface, now it is known That here did relinquish fish A gripping odor Atlantic I sniff'ed the breathe of that pungent fish *** I chok'ed and gripped for the head of the mast But when it came too far in I couldn't have last Expired by breathe of that frightful fish gas
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Aug 25, 2011
Aug 25, 2011 at 8:40 PM UTC
Fish ****
Indulge me for I'm sat looking at a scarf As I transport rather splendid G and T To its final destination Not mine I hasten to add, my scarf that is not the gin Purple not my colour you see I had issue with burgundy as a child, frightful memories I digress but it was left behind like a signature Not intentionally just in a sweet forgetfulness I can't pick it up, crazy as it sounds I mean if I did it would be real not imagery The moment lost, but no real moment as I can't feel it Do you understand ? Perhaps not I have admittedly been reminded of its presence I imagine it's scent, no I imagine her scent Her presence in the room, her smile lifts me I mean it's just a scarf I mean it can't exist can it? Do we leave a little of ourselves behind? Emotion like lost property I don't know, I honestly don't Is there a course for metaphysical disorientation and the re repatriation of lost purple scarfs? I guess not. I'd probably fail in any case. It will still be here tomorrow. In plain sight, just hidden from my reality Goodnight scarf.
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Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 9:55 PM UTC
Goodnight imaginary scarf
~ Daydreams in passing with the clouds, and their weary structure, and their idle loneliness, and their struggle for tomorrow. You and me and the image of an immense tree; satellites hanging from its branches like minacious ornaments; sending frightful messages to far out places; convincing us television is real but our lives are fake. Nightmares in passing with the shadows, and their elusive silhouette, and their active aggression, and their march for tomorrow. You and me and the image of a school bus sliding down into the ice... ~
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Nov 30, 2022
Nov 30, 2022 at 12:27 PM UTC
Modern Ambiguity
I spend many days trying to sum up emotions what do they equal to? Feeling so much, and then so little, I secure my belt as I sit on this ride these contradictions blindside, and whiplash me. But that's just life isn't it? Peaceful, but frightful joyful, but lonely... I imagine that's an emotion most people feel. There's a longing so strong I can almost touch it, but it's not here. And because of that my eyes are blurred unable to see the beauty around me even if there is just me and things don't add up.
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Feb 23, 2025
Feb 23, 2025 at 4:29 PM UTC
Solitude
Caucasian cadaver in the windless woods. Carelessly hanging from a tree. Colorless face looking down. Carrion yet to be seen. Creation of an evil man. Displaying his departed art. Completed, his compelling plan. Of helping death do its part. Few colors, fewer sounds. White skin contrasts the black dress. Faded yellow floating all around. Splatters of red fill the rest. A frightful figure that overwhelms. Above the confused and thorny trails. All the shallow know themselves. At the sight of this female. Breathless before being dangled. Dead before being displayed. Beautiful body, cold and mangled. Death magnificently portrayed. Multiple stab wounds in your back. Added to the smell of war. Mind immersed in barren black. Gnawed eyes to watch and adore. Dripping, dim and dreadful. The portrait he wanted to smear. Your future as empty as your words. Your hollowness shown clear. You don't know what you're missing.  Elders still die, the young still grow. The leaves below are hissing. At the corpse of a girl I used to know.
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Dec 10, 2016
Dec 10, 2016 at 11:37 AM UTC
Nadir
deep in a stargazing trance i stumble through the night in the darkest hour a star-crossed lover's stupor bewitched by constellation filled eyes tangled in star studded netting and silently screaming - i am not a frightful nightmare - nor a heavenly dream - merely flesh, bones, lungs, heart... the closing of night still woven in intricate webbing the rising sun's warmth 'tis but the scorch of fate's kiss i shall smoulder and disappear with perspiring flesh shivering bones panting lungs pounding heart... jolted awake 'twas but a dream?
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Apr 13, 2022
Apr 13, 2022 at 4:18 AM UTC
dreamcatcher
We fight ourselves everyday, A decision; to go or to stay. Some we take and some we give, all effects the way we live. I made a decision to fulfill your wish, but when it came time to deliver I became foolish. I became scared and frightful for it's been so long, since I seen you last all I could think about is our song. I drove and thought, should this be? Am I doing this for her, or am I doing this for me?
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Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 11:26 PM UTC
The Struggle
Wish upon a star; Go on, fly away far; Home is ever so lonely now; Both painful and true; You left, quite out of the blue; My child, please come home; I'll play all your favourite games; Even the one in the frightful brown mud! Cold and alone; This house full of memories; I want to go with you; Oh, please take me away; Aren't the tales real? Pirates and Pan and Lost Boys too?
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Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 11:52 AM UTC
Fly Away
I sunk to the bottom of the ocean once. Though it wasn't really all that grand. Everything that I saw was either shrouded in darkness, or a silty haze. The water was cold and the currents were violent. They ****** me too and fro. Now, don't get me wrong, I like it there at the bottom of the ocean, it's calm and it's dark and it soothes the fires of a soul like mine. The passage there however is the part that hurts so much, for before you may sink into the silky silt of the ocean floor and become neighbors with the ***** you must descend through the turbulence and the dangerous anglerous fish that inhabit the places betwixt. I suppose the hardest part about the journey is saying goodbye to the sunshine that you grew to love, after having spent time, from the ocean floor. Someone drags you up and you see the sun and you start to laugh more, and you start to love more and everything starts to feel warm and beautiful again. You look at that someone that brought you up and wrought you into shape and  you see such beauty. They shine like the sun, no, they are even better. But sometimes, They abandon us. That is not to say we are doomed to sink back down, they do not hold us here, as we do not hold them. We are free to remain on the surface with the sunlight. Most of us choose to jump back in, though. Let the ocean swallow us whole once again. Some swim back to the surface, determined to, perhaps, be more than a friendly newspaper conversation with a crustacean. However, many just live there, unwilling, unable, to go anywhere else. I sunk, to the bottom of the ocean once. Or twice, and a few times after that. Always finding a reason to swim back, sometimes I am dragged back. No matter which way though and honestly, how matters not, I always end up back on that beach. Waiting, watching the ocean. Wondering, pondering the possibilities and if I should wade back out and sink down once again. The ocean surely is a frightful thing.
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Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 2:45 AM UTC
The bottom of the ocean.
I sunk to the bottom of the ocean once. Though it wasn't really all that grand. Everything that I saw was either shrouded in darkness, or a silty haze. The water was cold and the currents were violent. They ****** me too and fro. Now, don't get me wrong, I like it there at the bottom of the ocean, it's calm and it's dark and it soothes the fires of a soul like mine. The passage there however is the part that hurts so much, for before you may sink into the silky silt of the ocean floor and become neighbors with the ***** you must descend through the turbulence and the dangerous anglerous fish that inhabit the places betwixt. I suppose the hardest part about the journey is saying goodbye to the sunshine that you grew to love, after having spent time, from the ocean floor. Someone drags you up and you see the sun and you start to laugh more, and you start to love more and everything starts to feel warm and beautiful again. You look at that someone that brought you up and wrought you into shape and  you see such beauty. They shine like the sun, no, they are even better. But sometimes, They abandon us. That is not to say we are doomed to sink back down, they do not hold us here, as we do not hold them. We are free to remain on the surface with the sunlight. Most of us choose to jump back in, though. Let the ocean swallow us whole once again. Some swim back to the surface, determined to, perhaps, be more than a friendly newspaper conversation with a crustacean. However, many just live there, unwilling, unable, to go anywhere else. I sunk, to the bottom of the ocean once. Or twice, and a few times after that. Always finding a reason to swim back, sometimes I am dragged back. No matter which way though and honestly, how matters not, I always end up back on that beach. Waiting, watching the ocean. Wondering, pondering the possibilities and if I should wade back out and sink down once again. The ocean surely is a frightful thing.
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Prowling, like a wolf on the periphery of the unknown betwixt knowledge and dread I saw the dark truth I felt the gulf the waste the expanse the difference in power the taste of defeat the vice grip of the inevitable the long, slow bleed of my dignity flowing out with the gold of my entrails eviscerated by my pride how I dared to topple the monolithic, undeniable truth that there is always a better you a better me a better us, out there stronger bigger faster smarter more hung more fashionable more handsome, more beautiful, more androgynous more capable more accomplished more patient more... loving more empathetic they know more random facts they've been more places they've known more people they've seen more sunrises they've counted every moon their worst is better than your best day he cares for her more deeply than you did she loves that she's forgotten you he tells her what he never told you and she loves him for that you were always afraid to find out they never invite you because you're not fun what a downer what a bore there's always that one person upon whom your envy is never sated they lope in moonlight flowing locks of grace teeth bared in a frightful grin they know all your cards they can play you like a fiddle they're out there where you fear to go the apex predator the person you'll never be but dream you could and dreams are all you'll have...
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Oct 31, 2022
Oct 31, 2022 at 6:37 PM UTC
Predator...
You take your throne as winter comes, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Secrets rest as the Dead rise up, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, We the Lost who few can see, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, We hear your call of winter winds, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, A fire lit that once was cold, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, On winter winds you find your own, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The year grows nigh as time does stop, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The time has come for cold Misrule, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The Gates of Life and Gates of Death, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Flutter open to part the Veil, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Speak to me, oh cold Cold One, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Whom once rode forth all teeth and eyes, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Your time has come, the dice are cast, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Coils of ice and coils of snow, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The Serpent form among the trees, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The moving sway of Serpent hips, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The Ice Queen sits as Hallow's Eve, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Finds its way to All Hallow's, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The Regent sits high in the North, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, And know her time has come again, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Hail to you Keeper of the Lost, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Hail to you who brings the tears, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The pale Blue Flame of Winter's Night, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, We know your face and Serpent's Tongue, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The cold Black Altar in the Hall of Stone, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The Cutter there before the Black Gates, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Her Black Knife raised to cut the threads, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, And Death's wings spread beside the Gates, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, To guide the Living and the Dead, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, For now the Veil is open wide, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The Gates are open and swing both ways, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The Mighty Dead we praise tonight, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The Blessed Dead we call your names, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The pulsing call of Bloodline blood, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The pulsing call of Loreline blood, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The pulsing call of Fateline blood, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Blood does call, it calls to Blood, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Bones do wake and speak once more, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Memory sleeps in sleeping Bones, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, And Blood awakens the sleeping Bones, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, And quickens now what once was dead, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, On altar top and in the Halls, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, We call you now to come to us, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, To breathe again the breath we breathe, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, And speak this night and speak again, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, And as the Darkness now recedes, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The Darkling Twin awaits the Bright, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Misrule reigns and all is Öð, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Öð and odd, and Wyrd and weird, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, And may the Hunt now pass us by, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Or may we ride the frightful ride, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, By Winter's Night and crossroad light, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, And ghost roads stretch into the night, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, And troll roads strange and faerie roads, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, That lead out there between the worlds, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Guide our way with lantern bright, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, We are the Lost, you children tonight, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Toss your dice for us just right, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, And may the year we now head to, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Find the dreams the Dreamer dreamed, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, This year manifest this next. ~Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, a Hallow poem by Bethany "Lorekeeper" Davis, November 1, 2015
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Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 5:39 AM UTC
Hail, oh, Builder of Storms
You take your throne as winter comes, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Secrets rest as the Dead rise up, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, We the Lost who few can see, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, We hear your call of winter winds, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, A fire lit that once was cold, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, On winter winds you find your own, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The year grows nigh as time does stop, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The time has come for cold Misrule, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The Gates of Life and Gates of Death, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Flutter open to part the Veil, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Speak to me, oh cold Cold One, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Whom once rode forth all teeth and eyes, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Your time has come, the dice are cast, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Coils of ice and coils of snow, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The Serpent form among the trees, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The moving sway of Serpent hips, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The Ice Queen sits as Hallow's Eve, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Finds its way to All Hallow's, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The Regent sits high in the North, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, And know her time has come again, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Hail to you Keeper of the Lost, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Hail to you who brings the tears, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The pale Blue Flame of Winter's Night, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, We know your face and Serpent's Tongue, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The cold Black Altar in the Hall of Stone, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The Cutter there before the Black Gates, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Her Black Knife raised to cut the threads, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, And Death's wings spread beside the Gates, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, To guide the Living and the Dead, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, For now the Veil is open wide, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The Gates are open and swing both ways, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The Mighty Dead we praise tonight, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The Blessed Dead we call your names, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The pulsing call of Bloodline blood, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The pulsing call of Loreline blood, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The pulsing call of Fateline blood, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Blood does call, it calls to Blood, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Bones do wake and speak once more, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Memory sleeps in sleeping Bones, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, And Blood awakens the sleeping Bones, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, And quickens now what once was dead, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, On altar top and in the Halls, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, We call you now to come to us, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, To breathe again the breath we breathe, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, And speak this night and speak again, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, And as the Darkness now recedes, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, The Darkling Twin awaits the Bright, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Misrule reigns and all is Öð, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Öð and odd, and Wyrd and weird, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, And may the Hunt now pass us by, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Or may we ride the frightful ride, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, By Winter's Night and crossroad light, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, And ghost roads stretch into the night, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, And troll roads strange and faerie roads, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, That lead out there between the worlds, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Guide our way with lantern bright, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, We are the Lost, you children tonight, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Toss your dice for us just right, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, And may the year we now head to, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, Find the dreams the Dreamer dreamed, Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, This year manifest this next. ~Hail, oh, Builder of Storms, a Hallow poem by Bethany "Lorekeeper" Davis, November 1, 2015
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122
*back then and now wishes for fire to burn and break the reality at hand.. a reality turned away self-absorbed frightful black caverns.. but then a caution for greater patience infinite patience.. advice rendered that greatest revelation appears now in our cataclysmic dark...*
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Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 10:27 PM UTC
Fires of enthusiasm
The first brave buds of spring burst forth In shades of yellow and green. They stand sentry at my door Like fierce mujahedin. They expel the bear of winter. They sneer at frightful frost. I wouldn’t want to be the snowflake That they chance to come across. In the seedbed things are stirring, germinating beneath the sod. There’s a riotous revolution that bespeaks the touch of God. Flowers are like people They can be kept down just so long. Then solar warmth will melt the snow And birds break into song. The garden trees are setting buds That soon will dominate the scene. It is Heaven enough for now as things bloom and grow and preen.
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Jan 14, 2012
Jan 14, 2012 at 10:43 PM UTC
Green Revolution
The body goes through changes. The mind grows. Eventually goes. There is time spent knowing... knowing about one's existence, what love is, what it isn't. Feeling With feet firmly planted on the ground, it becomes frightful to think of being beneath it. Food for the Earth, we are. We populate our planet, and we have come far. We've documented man's evolution. The evolution. The enlightenment. The ecosystem. However, we forget about the gift we are given. Spinning on an axis. We're egocentric. We put ego over eco. We're contained. Entomology, of sorts. Maybe Darwin was right.
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Apr 23, 2012
Apr 23, 2012 at 12:05 AM UTC
A Jar
People scatter the beaches street, Like seagulls hunting their scrumptious prey, Engulfing the happenings of mainstream life, While ordinarity and friction stray. Their blindful stares, And mindful glares, Induce a sense of Frightful fares. Children play, While adults delay, Their naive beliefs, From ambiguous thieves. Day after day, Continuity stays, Defending us all, From genuine praise.
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Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 5:34 AM UTC
Dysfunctioning Personality
Half past mid night, Been up since before first light, Can not get over this fright, Can not take another fight, This can not be " a we" Fights, frights and late nights, Last night, And again when it was first light, Loveless life, Even on beautiful starry nights, Not even worth the "we" time We can no longer be intertwined, Another starry night, Another frightful fight, Frights, fights every single night, Tonight I fight one last fight!
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Aug 13, 2019
Aug 13, 2019 at 6:50 PM UTC
One last fight