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"hexed" poems
oh yes, I remember when I was just a lad, I was really quite bad. I remember this one fall, I drove my parents up the wall. Up in the air the conversation flew, And to annoy them more I answered with a "mew". As I climbed the stairs and up into my room, I slammed the door with a loud 'boom!'. I stomped so loud on the floor, And thought "oh, what a boor!'. And up the stairs my parents sprung, Their nattering in my ears rung. I kicked and lashed out, not knowing what would happen next, As I looked down, I thought I was hexed! For if you stomp and kick, You will be changed quite a bit... Long grey ears grew high above my head, "Help, help me!" I plead. Hooves grew down to the floor, And I gasped as I saw... The little boy was no more. Frantically I looked to my parents who said, "I thought this would happen, I guess you need a new bed." Now the boy is no more, My parents bought a farm with a large moor. And I help out more now, As my job is pulling a plough!
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Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 11:14 AM UTC
Don't be naughty children
Changing gear, my mind is on cruise, becoming clear, as I start to muse, about love and lust, *** and sinning, I'm starting to grin and I'm settling in for a show that is just beginning. Changing gear, her dress on the floor, becoming clear, her skin shows more, of lust and love, sinning and *** She starts to smile, and looking a while at the poet who is lustfully hexed.
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Aug 29, 2025
Aug 29, 2025 at 6:26 AM UTC
A Muses' Seduction
what you see: me, quiet and deadly still in a way that i never am staring into empty space or at a blank wall. maybe i'm counting cracks or cataloging creases. you see me zone out— such an airhead, that George is i wonder what he's imagining what i see: ivory skin and hair as orange as sunset, and she is as beautiful... on the outside; but on the inside, she is a black hole. she ****** me in and i thought she was the light at the end of the tunnel. i must have been a traveller stranded and thirsty in the desert crawling towards mirages. now i am helpless. i am watching her line her legs with ink as she tells me to make sure that she doesn't line her legs with blood. meanwhile, i scratch deep at an itch that isn't there and call it catharsis. i am seeing white tiles and a translucent shower curtain and a sink and soaps and everything is normal—except the girl sitting in a bathtub naked without water and bare skin has never made me feel more ill. what you hear: ambient sounds. my breathing, perhaps. what i hear: she hums like a Disney villain brewing potions and calling it tea. she looks like a princess but her words are witch's curses and i'm hexed under her spell, hanging by a thread to every word she's ever said and somehow not noticing the noose she looped around my neck. darling, choke me 'til I can only breathe as well as your drowning lungs as you gasp into your oxygen mask what you see: i'm having a panic attack. what you hear: i'm hyperventilating.
0
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 8:54 PM UTC
PTSD
what you see: me, quiet and deadly still in a way that i never am staring into empty space or at a blank wall. maybe i'm counting cracks or cataloging creases. you see me zone out— such an airhead, that George is i wonder what he's imagining what i see: ivory skin and hair as orange as sunset, and she is as beautiful... on the outside; but on the inside, she is a black hole. she ****** me in and i thought she was the light at the end of the tunnel. i must have been a traveller stranded and thirsty in the desert crawling towards mirages. now i am helpless. i am watching her line her legs with ink as she tells me to make sure that she doesn't line her legs with blood. meanwhile, i scratch deep at an itch that isn't there and call it catharsis. i am seeing white tiles and a translucent shower curtain and a sink and soaps and everything is normal—except the girl sitting in a bathtub naked without water and bare skin has never made me feel more ill. what you hear: ambient sounds. my breathing, perhaps. what i hear: she hums like a Disney villain brewing potions and calling it tea. she looks like a princess but her words are witch's curses and i'm hexed under her spell, hanging by a thread to every word she's ever said and somehow not noticing the noose she looped around my neck. darling, choke me 'til I can only breathe as well as your drowning lungs as you gasp into your oxygen mask what you see: i'm having a panic attack. what you hear: i'm hyperventilating.
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59
I cashed out all my chips got them exchanged for all their worth, the tattered rags upon my body I give back unto the earth for sacrifice to be accepted, all my blood turns into dirt. I don't want to be forgiven, just loose the weight, disperse the girth. I've tried so hard to lift my arms, but this body's just a curse I've got the prison of my skin beneath which all is coded verse  try as I might, I can't take flight though my head floats above the clouds nobody hears the violent storm which springs from out my mind, so loud convex'd, I'm hexed, convinced that I will not find rest the earth must feed from me and plant it's seeds deep in my chest.
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Dec 11, 2012
Dec 11, 2012 at 7:32 PM UTC
redwood
She is silver-nitrate and coal. An Egon Schiele painting stretched on dream and sullen sparking glances tipped in gold. It is starlight, burnt through a velvet field that chains me here. It is honey and hot wine that haunts my sleep, by the onomatopoeia of obsession. With a lunar caustic kiss she hexed me. Woven in her six-sided circle those rubies in the hollow of her neck and fingers that shimmer like ice. The Sphinx of Eros. That heathen curl. Smoke to hide the ivory! Spoke to lock the memory! Caught in click clack shutters by the silver foaming pond. Froth from the chambers of ebony rough hewn hearts. O starlight! That raptures me hungry for bloodsoaked lips red as fury! And I sang; O lord & commoner, I sang! To the weepings of a sombre, sudden, stinging violin, in empty vinyl crackle from music soaked in paint, with a voice like burning velvet.
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Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 1:51 AM UTC
Lunar Caustic
Poison in your lips, Soft yet evil. It conquers my soul. Poison in your touch, Yet hidden by your romance. I am hexed, By your masked love. The poison, It enchants. The purest of souls...
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Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 8:56 AM UTC
You are Poison
Tremble inside feeling so cold without you. Sleep, rest illusive.   My hurt on display for the world.   It is so hard to breath without you. You hexed my ***** and I cannot *** without you! I miss your voice You won't take my calls. You blocked me on flickr viewbug and more. I ******* adored you and you stupid man Why the **** am I on ignore?? Oh You wanted to be the one to break my heart The only one no but the most hurt. The pissy thing is you never said a negative word I miss your positivity, your loving words I miss you more than ice cream, motor cycle season, life I will take what you gave me and apply it every day. You were the best in so many ways. I long to hear your voice calling to me again. I have done my best to forget, erase hear you no more to no end Lay in bed calling out your name while my tears roll down my pillow Your not to blame. You made a choice to walk away, erase me Make me pain. My camera is very inspired so I cannot really complain. The audience feels hollow compared to the smiles with you I came. I miss the intimacy, the stares, the hot pants moans and **** glares. I miss your instruction on just what to do Dude you turned me into a pile of goo. I would be ok if I could just *** You hexed my ***** Im ******* pissed...and I need to giggle *** have you done? Sigh, why..so sudden did I go from your everything Your entire world to your ignore list I wish I understood
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Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 3:18 PM UTC
You hexed my *****
Stupefied Enchanted Lips pressed Casting spells Tongues intwined   Pouring potions Leave me hexed Be my jinx -JCM-
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Jun 30, 2018
Jun 30, 2018 at 1:40 PM UTC
We can be magic
We wring our veins write to the stars fight under the moon words of passion tune We write about love when it seduced then it wrestled words of tension swim Our words of time moments gone and farmed sorrows that overload happiness that swoon Prime time in the lonely time when contentment permits when heaven is locked and when hell is unlatched Prime time my bold friends keep the pen readily primed undoubtedly trust the script It will lead to ultimate freedom A dedication to all the poets here at HP We write these words on and on, we capture moments, swim the oceans, object in the courts, run free in the forests. We are not hexed just keep writing for one time the primetime will be ours
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Jun 29, 2016
Jun 29, 2016 at 3:56 AM UTC
Prime Time Poets (For all at HP)
I'm complicated Imperfect And Insecure The Gullible A Troubled one Emotional Full of bad thoughts Not at all cool A sensitive Conflicted Catastrophe A full story I'm not unique Kind of a geek Sometimes silly Chatty Yet Shy I really try Sometimes I cry I know I'll die Life is no phase I couldn't lie
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Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 8:34 AM UTC
Hexed
Something feels wrong about walking on pavement When I could be skipping through fields of grass Something's wrong with economic enslavement When we could be carelessly letting time pass Something's wrong with perpetual warfare When all we desire is love and peace Something feels empty about likes and shares And something feels wrong about racist police Something feels off when politicians speak With their lies, misinformation, and deceit Something feels wrong because we've passed our peak We're on the decline and it tastes so sweet. Something feels wrong with the passing breeze As if the air knows what's coming next Something looks wrong with decaying trees They too understand that we are hexed. Something feels wrong in my dark twisted mind Something feels wrong with this dark twisted Earth Something feels wrong about being kind Something feels wrong about having no worth. Something feels wrong about dragging along And it'll all feel wrong until the day I'm gone
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Mar 8, 2017
Mar 8, 2017 at 3:38 PM UTC
Something Feels Wrong
Everyday I crank into battle, pedal my knobby-spaceship to somewhere else. I'm really nobody special, just another universal-soldier, a lover of rock and roll, a fellow sojourner. Achilles Last Stand blasts through my skull candy in raw-melody. I jump curbs, hop ravines, resurrecting the meaning of clairvoyance. I read her calling, a true woman-child crying for faith, she masked her pain with self-doubt, swallowed anger, hexed by *** & drugs & lots of alcohol, temporal killing pain-relief, death-elixirs from liars. And in my boldness, my love for her indomitable spirit, I shout to her, telepathically send her an important sincere message, "Pick yourself up fighter, cleanse your bloodied knees, cloak yourself in flower-maille, love yourself first for protection from you adversaries (and there are many). Carry the shield of courage to blind the dark-world with the next coming, the coming of your own sun, shine sister shine!"
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Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 10:23 AM UTC
The Coming of Your Sun (A Shout Out From The Astralplane~Shine Sister Shine)
This is my Epic word play, like crippling cliches, putting Shakespeare on a delay, my sentences run a relay. I speak so quickly you need a replay, but it's still too slick, thats what she say. I bring dismay like a dark cloud on a clear day, roar so loud I make the lightning pray. Under my storm the whole world becomes my prey. Scattered and running, screaming and shouting. Fighting and scratching, clawing and doubting. This pouting crowd is weak not meek. They sneak peeks at secrets they can't keep. Living in dreams when they don't sleep. This cheap world carries no beat. Throws fire with no heat. Full of tricks and no treat. It's a bumpy ride with no seat. Hope to God you soon meet, cause the Devil's no cheat. I hear them cry, sigh, whisper, and wan. I walk this wire like a liar, the path of the insane, but I can't complain. For it all leads to my reign. These wimpy whimpering children fear their fate. With no appetite to sate, locked in a fence with no gate. I can dangle hooks with no bait. And still they snap and still they bite. It's alright, it's still their right to lose sight of the site. It's not a lack of sense, but too much ignorance and impudence. I grant you my two cents. A text to get vexed and hexed. My free verse is like *** An ******** hat trick, built brick by brick. No one's immune but no one gets sick. I'm tired, I quit, hit me back with a single bullet, no clip. Don't miss and don't slip, or else I'll dip, strike back, your throat I'll split. Swallow your soul and spit out the pit. It's critical you stand and don't sit. You'll need to run, the sun is burning out, it's no fun shooting blanks for a toy gun. Crooked angles over the horizon shows that we're done. This has been my Epic word play, a day of artistic dismay on display. The he said she said scene like a play, causes stress make my hair grey. But I promise you this I.O.U. is A.O.K. I never right a check that my *** can't pay. You may be the light but I am the way.
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May 26, 2010
May 26, 2010 at 10:15 PM UTC
Epic Word Play
This is my Epic word play, like crippling cliches, putting Shakespeare on a delay, my sentences run a relay. I speak so quickly you need a replay, but it's still too slick, thats what she say. I bring dismay like a dark cloud on a clear day, roar so loud I make the lightning pray. Under my storm the whole world becomes my prey. Scattered and running, screaming and shouting. Fighting and scratching, clawing and doubting. This pouting crowd is weak not meek. They sneak peeks at secrets they can't keep. Living in dreams when they don't sleep. This cheap world carries no beat. Throws fire with no heat. Full of tricks and no treat. It's a bumpy ride with no seat. Hope to God you soon meet, cause the Devil's no cheat. I hear them cry, sigh, whisper, and wan. I walk this wire like a liar, the path of the insane, but I can't complain. For it all leads to my reign. These wimpy whimpering children fear their fate. With no appetite to sate, locked in a fence with no gate. I can dangle hooks with no bait. And still they snap and still they bite. It's alright, it's still their right to lose sight of the site. It's not a lack of sense, but too much ignorance and impudence. I grant you my two cents. A text to get vexed and hexed. My free verse is like *** An ******** hat trick, built brick by brick. No one's immune but no one gets sick. I'm tired, I quit, hit me back with a single bullet, no clip. Don't miss and don't slip, or else I'll dip, strike back, your throat I'll split. Swallow your soul and spit out the pit. It's critical you stand and don't sit. You'll need to run, the sun is burning out, it's no fun shooting blanks for a toy gun. Crooked angles over the horizon shows that we're done. This has been my Epic word play, a day of artistic dismay on display. The he said she said scene like a play, causes stress make my hair grey. But I promise you this I.O.U. is A.O.K. I never right a check that my *** can't pay. You may be the light but I am the way.
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28
The Elder Supremes are staggering Under the Pillar of Superposition— They who stream emotionless minds, streaming Scripture as alcohol to tea-head Kneelers, praying The elixir of Olympus isn’t turpentine; tarnishing The great, drear light of child-minds like onions in the Sun Molding through its layers; the taste extinguished—No poetry Survives! They who crackle doom over whitened rooms Filled with the white coats of Nature’s secret Heroes— The best minds, sagging like iced-over limbs— Made dim by a false Heavenly connection. Oh! They deprived the gears of Grandfather Night, And deemed Him wicked in his flickering sight. They who are Hollow, yet still colossal; these spinning Hellions, This Machinery of Older Skeletons; That steams and heats and comes to life for an innocent Bottom, with the name that lies in Sin of Archaic Text, Vexed, hexed and expressed in all Prisons and War— Prisons and War reverberate like bad music in the name of a doG; A name the Sun once owned and cast below to a dimmer Star, It billowed and screamed: Keep it in the ******* Church! Now it comes to Damning the Beast: “Get thee behind me Savior, for the Microscope is over Prayer.”
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Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 2:37 PM UTC
Microscopes Over Prayer
Dangling time in front of my face. A rythmic ace. East to west. East to west. Ensnared. By this chain as it wraps around my chest. Hexed, dancing towards the edge of a chasm. C ontorting for you cynicism                U nvieling for you undived attention.      R easoning for your recoilation.     S alivating for your sensuality. E xcusing your erosion.   ---- D ancing in my delusion. --- You are the jack of spades. A master of trades. Colder than the queen of diamonds you've plucked from my mind and displayed. I am the rabbit you'll rip from your mad hatter. Impatiently awaiting my own dismal disaster. Pounding my fists; "Make this trick go faster!" Getting mixed up with an illusionist was hasty and unplanned; As my courage melts, he strokes my cheek With his sleight of hand.
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Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 7:49 PM UTC
Mad for a magician
tonight i vow                          not to stay up too late tonight i vow                          to eliminate hate tonight i vow                          to self-motivate to take another step on the path to being great to be great at what?                tonight i ask am i in a rut?                tonight i ask need a kick in the ****                tonight i ask but i'm choosing to get better not a mandated task they all say                          take it step by step they all say                          improve yourself today they all say                          practice makes perfect but perfection's not my goal just wanna live the right way so what's up next?                they all inquire are you feeling the effects?                they all inquire can you avoid becoming hexed?                they all inquire cause apparently life's risky when you're always climbing higher so i ask myself tonight what i'll promise another day taking into account their inquiries and what they say but in the end i won't have been wrongly led astray cause when push comes to shove listen to the "i", not the "they"
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Sep 26, 2019
Sep 26, 2019 at 3:23 PM UTC
listen to the I, not the They
The blade held fast by stoic clutch of earth Intended for a single man since birth: Upon the hilt in celtic runes engraved An epitaph for how the king be saved, And since in canes below the lake was forged The magic brand knew well which foes to scourge. The king unsheathed his worth from holy stones As all the boulders strewn are mother's bones, And wielded it across the heaving lands Until they'd all been conquered by his hands. Say some the sword was loose by fleeting chance Precise as judgement by a joust with lance, Some other say that Merlin hexed the Lady's gift Before embedding blade within the rift, Yet druid told before to doom he strayed That sole for Arthur was the weapon made. Within the marrow-rock of endless time The patient sword awaits Pendragon's climb, Yet would the worth have found itself a hand If kingly stranger gave the hilt command? Or does the aether-steel unceasing sleep Denied of dreams 'til safe in Arthur's keep? Can worth that slumbers deep and makes men whole Await arrival of a single soul? These truths are lost, for Merlin scattered dust That lets our minds remember what they must, Yet after Arthur he returned the blade And to its rest beneath the waters laid.
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Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 6:30 PM UTC
The Worth in the Stone
2am and up with the night That’s what feels right Also where I feel alone Still no home The night consumes me Stuck in this undertow So now I tip toe Around everything I’ve become Or the things I’m not I forgot the meaning of sleep These eyes could tell you that Bloodshot and dead I’ve got a heart to match And a soul to clash Just a bad night Like all the rest Dare you to quit fighting back Your legs gave in So the throne gave out They’ll tear it down Brick by boring brick Stick by broken stone “It’ll be fine” What a hand-me-down lie Cause I am not okay This is not alright I can see the end And you’re the fakest **** friend Falling down on my face Can’t look anyone in the eyes ******* disgrace Or myself in the mirror Going on 7 years bad luck Forgive the self pity I’m just pessimistic With a missing characteristic Who has time for feeling sorry? The truth is I’m tired And sick of fighting Cause it’s the same old story Make it from one bad night to the next But every single one feels hexed We all have them The nights you barely survive Praying I make it out alive Whether it’s saints or sinners No one’s ever a winner Somewhere between angels and demons While you’re speaking about a hell you don’t believe in Against a heaven that’s only promised freedom Maybe you should ask for wisdom I’m just asking to be saved Never coming back unscathed What doesn’t **** you makes you stronger I’d like to think they’ve made me brave
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Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 3:52 PM UTC
| Bad Nights |
2am and up with the night That’s what feels right Also where I feel alone Still no home The night consumes me Stuck in this undertow So now I tip toe Around everything I’ve become Or the things I’m not I forgot the meaning of sleep These eyes could tell you that Bloodshot and dead I’ve got a heart to match And a soul to clash Just a bad night Like all the rest Dare you to quit fighting back Your legs gave in So the throne gave out They’ll tear it down Brick by boring brick Stick by broken stone “It’ll be fine” What a hand-me-down lie Cause I am not okay This is not alright I can see the end And you’re the fakest **** friend Falling down on my face Can’t look anyone in the eyes ******* disgrace Or myself in the mirror Going on 7 years bad luck Forgive the self pity I’m just pessimistic With a missing characteristic Who has time for feeling sorry? The truth is I’m tired And sick of fighting Cause it’s the same old story Make it from one bad night to the next But every single one feels hexed We all have them The nights you barely survive Praying I make it out alive Whether it’s saints or sinners No one’s ever a winner Somewhere between angels and demons While you’re speaking about a hell you don’t believe in Against a heaven that’s only promised freedom Maybe you should ask for wisdom I’m just asking to be saved Never coming back unscathed What doesn’t **** you makes you stronger I’d like to think they’ve made me brave
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55
She put a spell on me She manipulates my heart with alchemy I love her with no control Because she controls my very soul She is so enchanting and mysterious Her sorcery has got me delirious I'm her servant and her puppet And part of me loves it Some voodoo and a hex For some ritualistic *** Under the blood moon a celebration For the God of *********** My sweet little pixie Raising the dead with her necromancy As I watch with dread She dances with the dead Witchcraft and conjuring demons from hell Mystic horrors as the sacrifices scream and yell I must break free from these sinister restraints; I must rebel But I can't stop their pains because with magic in my veins I am just a shell I am like a doll stuck in its head and helpless Left to panic about how she is relentless She is so charming its alarming                         I wonder who els she will be harming The ****** psychotic ***** This seductive destructive witch As long as I am hexed I am going to be be next
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Jan 6, 2017
Jan 6, 2017 at 3:07 AM UTC
WitchCraft
You're back and I've only been asking four years and two days. My passion never left, it only paved your way. Outside it's gotten colder than the weatherman will even say. The skies may stay clear but everything is gray. I wait for you on the tarmac with bouquets, four years yesterday it was to be my grave. Everything and its nothingnesses made me black and blue, I was just ink blotter on a finger's noose, nonsense and writer's gloom. Some of me was hexed by my work, some of my flesh became unglued. My eyes may have resurrected a figure, but I can't be sure it's you. I'm at the Bay Bridge with weights tied to my shoes, where even the water can't judge my moves. People lie to keep themselves as far away from their truth. Many can't even talk to you unless they have a drink or two. ****** and benzos too. Skinny vexed spirits accrue, walking into the waves until their skins turn blue.
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Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 12:50 PM UTC
Discarded Evening Anchors
I want to hold her. Sometimes I wish to curve myself onto every inch of her wild body. We share a skin-ship, and it is because of this that tension arises. We casually breed an exotic essence, a colorful blend of warm, unbidden hues. From an outside perspective it cannot, will not be understood. We have both succeeded in the task of draining each other's sanity; She because I am needy, (Constantly pulling and pushing); And I because she is stubborn -- She is like the iron strings of a freshly bounded Acoustic guitar. To have such a person as my muse, I cannot tell whether I am blessed, or if I am hexed beyond all compare. It is not that I am in love with her, or her golden-flecked vermilion tresses. I simply, implicitly feel the need to explore her. It is I who implores her bold ambiguity, whilst she stands bare to my artistry.
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Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 1:47 AM UTC
The sun is far from unattainable:
No force of nature, no divination of the corners Nor the tea leaves, spread out loosely Conveying chaos in their spiral form Nor your heart line, dipping down deeply Into the territory of water, selfish and wandering Nor your telling Capricorn birth Ruled by rigid grounding, your father the earth Nor the eight of swords, repeated in every reading Blindfolded and reaching forward None of these can deter the velocity of my falling Towards the pull of your body's gravity, refractory Freed from any other want or need than the divination of your sheets I'm puppet on a string, held low above your lust's steady flame Leaning down low, dipping my toes into your karmic fire Transported to a future drenched in the color of your gaze Regardless of hexed hematite or rabbits foot Lost sight of all pink candle and rosehip, all mundane and esoteric My soul is yours, to save or spend sordidly To toss into the shallow waters of the fountain of fate
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Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 11:20 PM UTC
Of Star Charts and Boot Prints on the Lake
She lies naked, spread eagle inside the circle, glittering in the candlelight. Whispering ancient-incantations & chanting her desires, she offers herself up, guides me with her circular fingers. And in a heightened state of consciousness, I awaken, crazy with lust. Unable to fight her, I grip myself imagining her treasures, O what pleasure! I feel her wizardry with rapid movements, am blown away into another dimension, hexed by her charms. O my sweet sorceress, how quickly I succumb to your magical ways, so overcome by your pixie dust!
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Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 4:23 AM UTC
Magic Fingers & Pixie Dust (Sweet Sorceress)
We hexed the moon We burned downtown We killed Carlos We started a plague We started riots We almost started a 3rd war We protested and got shot We killed our year We said it would be better We lied and broke it We tried and failed it And now I'm sick of resentment But we can improve it
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Sep 30, 2020
Sep 30, 2020 at 9:42 AM UTC
2020 (it's been a while but here I go)