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"magick" poems
they emerge from the wooded neighborhood ridge and fringe at dusk into breadth of lawn & limb. witchy chicks casting banter n bitchcraft. teenage dead end dreamers tipped in black magick lip gloss & glitter, their genderfluid familiars &/or wayward boyfriends apparate in the street pink cloud spinning wheel, & hawking bile. ****** stella smile. swallow a hex, send a snap, tongue along his neck promising to fold bodies before sunrise. the effervescent gasp of post-ritual clarity. in the house, is a kid. a gig. the devil with a younger grip. & the kid thrills on a bit of the ol’ u l t r a v i o l e n c e. ****** videogames, ****** anime, ****** mayhem n melodic music. he is a conduit of dark energy. a pure blooded offering of the stone age/video age, mind in a kind of kaleidoscopic way. he is me. bred on televised bucket slime ceremonials. she checks her purse. drugs & snacks & juul & a pretty dead bird. a daughter of delphi watching your kid. tending to him. trending him. popcorn smelling him, the texas chainsaw massacre on vhs just before bed. palace of teeth n twigs. just a short walk to the edge and then its bath time. the demon version is grisly and cruel. the angel version is starry-eyed and adventurous. to conjure some thing, at the cliff jumping. it was fun.
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Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 2:54 AM UTC
babysitters on acid (eat, pray, love, conjure satan)
A sea of white Favors hallowed ground Where dotted lines track snow angels And souls are lost to release A druid spell conjures delirious bliss Tasting the snowflakes Kissing the cold air Hugging the entire sky A great and simple magick stirs Holding mitten hands Warming nuzzle noses And the smell of her hair in winter
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Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 9:54 PM UTC
A Sea of White
Magick 13 My rhymes periglacial slash through foes ****** leavin' corrupted maxillofacial stay laced with the coco Til my nose blow out nothing but deadly keys makin' monopolies at ease see my desert ease Could make the devil freeze with the beautiful ephipanies laid though my flow cinematography ain't no fictions here G My pedigrees been deadly since the age of three First sips of Hennessy pictured a glare of my enemies stories of me biblically Born a David killin' Goliath's society defiant Knock down the orders in the cornered borders Of the Jesuit I'm the black Pope Elope to the celestials gods that rope My mind hanging on to the highs of the **** Better yet the marijuana sneaky as an anaconda Once I tighten cells begin biting Fighting tryna stay alive like Bee Gees Fiendin' for my lost dynasties kin to Nefertiti since I ****** on ******* As a baby I got a taste of the universe thoughts deeper than a hearse words hurts exciting flirts beating all perks through my vengeful works My alias an archangel leave the game triangled Titan mentality dribble like Cousy so you might loose me? Sick with the tracks axe minds like Moses to the red sea  knockin' down Rome legacy Back on top like the greatest plot dimensions traveler like Bishop Capitalizin' land plots I be the Black Wieshaupt
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Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 9:03 AM UTC
LATERAL swords
all my life ive only thought of one thing YOU you are why i got an education why i tried so hard to make beautiful things with my hands why i got dressed up why i learned to sing and dance why i never stopped trying to make a living why i always went to the gym and worked out to be diamond hard why i was polite or inconsolable why i ran seven miles a day why i tried to be charming why i could never stop playing with myself why i got through james joyce why i learned conversational hypnosis neuro linguistics magick and witch craft to invoke a spell that would compel YOU to dance the wiggle wiggle naked from hot rhythms and slow melodic sways as i prayed burning blood red candles during the darkest moon for adorations with endless masturbations to your beautiful *** and feet for tender red lipped mercies kisses kisses kisses because you are beauty piqued from your golden angelic head soft silken hair to your sweet pink arched feet and twinkling painted toes magnetized to yank my eyes and be your **** boy *** toy my goddess glitter **** queen of heaven all paradise any man needs BUT sometimes i couldn't have YOU and it velvet crushed me taught me hopelessness broke my will gave me fear made me cry and shiver inside tore my heart to smithereens twisted my in-nerds like jagged metal melting me as i spiraled down into madness all burning veins of fire until inferiority dragged deep suffocating me shuddery like winters midnight freeze and howling winds through hollow desolations marrow-less bones
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Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 1:25 PM UTC
Vulnerable
all my life ive only thought of one thing YOU you are why i got an education why i tried so hard to make beautiful things with my hands why i got dressed up why i learned to sing and dance why i never stopped trying to make a living why i always went to the gym and worked out to be diamond hard why i was polite or inconsolable why i ran seven miles a day why i tried to be charming why i could never stop playing with myself why i got through james joyce why i learned conversational hypnosis neuro linguistics magick and witch craft to invoke a spell that would compel YOU to dance the wiggle wiggle naked from hot rhythms and slow melodic sways as i prayed burning blood red candles during the darkest moon for adorations with endless masturbations to your beautiful *** and feet for tender red lipped mercies kisses kisses kisses because you are beauty piqued from your golden angelic head soft silken hair to your sweet pink arched feet and twinkling painted toes magnetized to yank my eyes and be your **** boy *** toy my goddess glitter **** queen of heaven all paradise any man needs BUT sometimes i couldn't have YOU and it velvet crushed me taught me hopelessness broke my will gave me fear made me cry and shiver inside tore my heart to smithereens twisted my in-nerds like jagged metal melting me as i spiraled down into madness all burning veins of fire until inferiority dragged deep suffocating me shuddery like winters midnight freeze and howling winds through hollow desolations marrow-less bones
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I would be more spontaneous. Think irrationally more often. Dance like there's no one watching.                          I would listen to my mother and talk back less often. I would have been there for every yes, no, maybe, and I do.    I would have stopped    Every bully    I ever saw. Instead of being a bystander. I would bleed more often.           Heal more often.                     See more.                   I would pay attention to the little things, ignore the big.                                       See the future, remember the past ... not repeat it. I'd say what's on my mind. Nothing would be bottled inside. I'd pour my heart into everything.                                   I'd take steps to be the poet I've always wanted to be.            The Writer I know I can be. I am strong inside, though inside never shows, and that wouldn't be. I would believe in the power of magick, for it's everywhere, though oppressed.                                                I would sing with Birds.                                                I would smell the Roses.
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Jan 11, 2011
Jan 11, 2011 at 7:31 PM UTC
If I could Live my life Over again
Dancing on the lifeline, Flying through the dirt, Mixing into puddles, Resembling the sky... Everything is nothing. Nothing is everything. The truth is but a lie Not looked in the eye. The spoiled goods we buy! Dancing on the lifeline, Spinning dervish, spin. Aquire all the knowledge you seek, Find it is within. Poets are the prophets To the souls of those that read. The magick that is in the verses Always plants a seed To enlightenment, the need. We are all Dancing on the lineline, Connected by the threads, That comprise the ribbons Of the thoughts within our heads. Everything for which we thirst Is already in our chalice. We only need to drink of it, But need to keep the balance... Beware the one called valiant. Never fear that victor, Who has never seen a challange, Who has been given everything On a silver platter. Listen to the hope inside. Follow it, as you lead. As you cast your spells And spin your webs, take heed. Dancing on your lifeline, Holding onto what is true. Only when you care for others, Will you know they care for you.
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Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 5:49 PM UTC
Dancing on the Lifeline
Candle Magick A Poem by Corset My Latina Coworker sat across from my desk; heartbroken that her lover wanted to try again with his wife; pulled out a brown paper sack and asked me if I believed in hummingbird candle magick, and then proceeded to tell me how to cast a love spell. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I told her I believed in the power of mind to shape her universe. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Two days later she's snap chatting her married lover again, has been unblocked and has now switched to candles of ********** !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My dog has diarrhea and is blowing holes through the walls of her crate, I must have lit the wrong kind or color of candles. © 2015 Corset
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Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 11:20 PM UTC
Candle Magick
How do you tell someone that you’re tired of existing? No one has done anything wrong, and by all normal standards this day has been quite nice, but something in me can’t handle that. Something in me can’t stand this constant standard of “surviving” Being exhausted of simply being is draining and no amount of stimulant can correct this. How do you tell someone that it takes all of you to simply wake up in the morning? To wake, to breathe. How do you tell them that it’s nothing they’ve done, but you just can’t do it anymore. How do you say **** like this? How do I think **** like this? Where could I go? France? Scotland? How far would I have to run for these hounds to stop their pursuit of me? Will they stop this chase? The answer is no. No, I don’t think they will. I think they’ll keep ******* chasing me. They’ll keep coming. They’ll keep this race no matter how run-ragged I may be. They’ll keep pace, keep biting at my ankles, keep snarling, snuffling, tearing the ground with their paws. They’ll hunt me until the end— no matter how many rivers or oceans I cross. Or maybe the river Styx will clog their all-knowing-noses….I shouldn’t have given them my scent. But they know it now. They know it and they want more. I’m living off jolts of too much caffeine right now. What way is that to live? Living, though is an overstatement. I’m not living— I’m just taking up space. Taking up space and filling up volumes with these hollow words— as if I don’t know how stale I sound. So where can I go? What do I do? What the hell do I do when I can’t even decide if I want to be Alive? What do I WANT to do? I WANT a house in the mountains. I want an herb garden planted in the shape of a sacred spiral. I want a river to bathe in, a fire place to cast into, a cat to hate and watch suspiciously, a dog to keep the hounds at bay, a kitchen to make magick and medicine in, and a bed warmed by someone else. I want cold nights and mornings warm only because there is skin against my back. I want not to be a prisoner of my own words. I want to stop dreading the day that I run out of words-- because the day I run out of words will be the day I let the hounds catch up to me. I want moonlight&moonshine.; I want sunlight and dizzy sun spots. I want trees and the sound of a roaring tuck. I want sweat and the smell of Wood. I want woods and warm skin at my back.
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Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 5:26 PM UTC
the morning after
How do you tell someone that you’re tired of existing? No one has done anything wrong, and by all normal standards this day has been quite nice, but something in me can’t handle that. Something in me can’t stand this constant standard of “surviving” Being exhausted of simply being is draining and no amount of stimulant can correct this. How do you tell someone that it takes all of you to simply wake up in the morning? To wake, to breathe. How do you tell them that it’s nothing they’ve done, but you just can’t do it anymore. How do you say **** like this? How do I think **** like this? Where could I go? France? Scotland? How far would I have to run for these hounds to stop their pursuit of me? Will they stop this chase? The answer is no. No, I don’t think they will. I think they’ll keep ******* chasing me. They’ll keep coming. They’ll keep this race no matter how run-ragged I may be. They’ll keep pace, keep biting at my ankles, keep snarling, snuffling, tearing the ground with their paws. They’ll hunt me until the end— no matter how many rivers or oceans I cross. Or maybe the river Styx will clog their all-knowing-noses….I shouldn’t have given them my scent. But they know it now. They know it and they want more. I’m living off jolts of too much caffeine right now. What way is that to live? Living, though is an overstatement. I’m not living— I’m just taking up space. Taking up space and filling up volumes with these hollow words— as if I don’t know how stale I sound. So where can I go? What do I do? What the hell do I do when I can’t even decide if I want to be Alive? What do I WANT to do? I WANT a house in the mountains. I want an herb garden planted in the shape of a sacred spiral. I want a river to bathe in, a fire place to cast into, a cat to hate and watch suspiciously, a dog to keep the hounds at bay, a kitchen to make magick and medicine in, and a bed warmed by someone else. I want cold nights and mornings warm only because there is skin against my back. I want not to be a prisoner of my own words. I want to stop dreading the day that I run out of words-- because the day I run out of words will be the day I let the hounds catch up to me. I want moonlight&moonshine.; I want sunlight and dizzy sun spots. I want trees and the sound of a roaring tuck. I want sweat and the smell of Wood. I want woods and warm skin at my back.
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I know NOW after all these years how it was You trapped me ...You won me over  all else ...You were gifted I searched the world over for... someone possesing KNOWLEDGE.... all ...the right words You became all of me. How did you do that ....when you had never ever even stepped one foot out of your... ...Appalachia ******* MAGICK!!! ...Not the good kind. ...Hillbilly GREATNESS you were bought and you were paid for EVIL intention. ... all you will ever be. in my mind good riddance ******* hillbilly.
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Feb 28, 2013
Feb 28, 2013 at 11:37 PM UTC
HILLBILLY ********
Death is the act of becoming. Death is the act of birthing. Death is all that is, creation;;; And destruction. Death is love.   Death is hate. Death is neutrality. Death is chaos. Death is order. Death is truth. Death is real. Only death is real.   Death, death, death. Only death is real. Death is life. Death is gateways. Death is magick. Death is G-D. The Lord is life, Thus, The Lord is death.   Death is endlessness. Death is the spiral. Death is forever.   Spiral. Spiral.  Spiral. Death is deathless. Death is holy. Death is Shiva. Death is Allah Death is ******** Death is Om. Death is Jesus. Death is Roman Empires fallen. Death is the earth fallen. Death is trees fallen. Only death is real. Only The Lord is real. The Lord is death. Death. Death. Death. Only death is real. Life is illusion. A testing dream for death. Death is a gateway to Divinity. Only death is real.
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Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 6:17 PM UTC
Only Death Is Real. (Death. Death. Om Death.)
Mirror, mirror Said the queen Self-conscious, Not wanting to be seen Mirror, mirror Every day Urging wrinkles Not to stay Mirror, mirror She was taught If she was ugly She was naught Mirror, mirror She cannot feel Emotions ruin Her appeal Mirror, mirror She feels dead To the husband In her bed Mirror, mirror Her heart is failing Her lungs are gasping Her kidneys wailing Mirror, mirror The doctor said She has a growth In her head Mirror, mirror She cannot stand But she's still the most Beautiful in the land Mirror, mirror But not anymore Her place taken By the child of a ***** Mirror, mirror She needs a heart The child has one There's a start Mirror, mirror She's in so much pain She doesn't know How to be humane Mirror, mirror The child is dead The heart is weak But she has fed Mirror, mirror The heart has failed There is no other That ship has sailed Mirror, mirror She is desperate to live She finds a corrupt magicker And gives all she can give Mirror, mirror She feeds on death Each soul she takes Lies in every breath Mirror, mirror She carves words in her skin EVIL, VAMPYR DEMON, SIN Mirror, mirror She moans in the night Her husband sleeps in a separate bed Yet still quakes in fright Mirror, mirror The child is not dead All the lives she has taken When she could have taken one instead Mirror, mirror Look at her now Twisted and broken Macabre magick on her brow Mirror, mirror The child must pay Perhaps her soul will be redeemed It is the only way
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Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 12:40 PM UTC
The Queen
I am from water, from fire,       from earth and air,             the spirit to complete. I am from the busy movement of city       from the busstling to and fro. I am from historic land,       from where many jumped to find gold,             to find a better life. I am from the prison of Him,       from where the truama begins,             perfect from all around. I am from nights of games,       from spondgebob monoply             from Life. I am from the seeds of the earth,       from where the magick starts. I am from Odin, from Apollo,       the strong Yggdrasil to protect. I am from the occult of practice,       from the forests and seas. I am from long walks with Odin,       from his warm embrace,             from playing fetch. I am from the theatre,       from Carlos, from tech. I am from here.
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Feb 20, 2023
Feb 20, 2023 at 12:57 PM UTC
I Am From By: Sunset
So dusty, what's the harm Another shell of skin to cling to our jeans and old sweaters Swallow it down with our table top soft butter and the cowboy leather in our insides will make us infinitely tougher Barfing nails longer than the ends of gypsy hands to scratch the antagonists in our crystal ball's plans Sorry, but bloodiness is what my trombonist destiny demands I'll slide you a swan song to contemplate dark magick's sand that spirals down the throat of the hourglass man In 100 years time, our empty glass bodies will tip from the wind of a fan held by a butterfly drifting through a faraway land Hell, so why do we care when anything at all goes wrong? Yes, Devil most evil I address you and everyone else who resides in your throng He just lit an unfiltered cigarette said "just enjoy the song and ******* lighten up a bit Think your dead and burning use your imagination Whatever's in your head you're it."
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Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 11:08 PM UTC
Lighten Up like a Cigarette
words are better on paper and candlelight the smell of ink and crisp turns of pages white the binding creaks and soul writ in this screen is not the same thing friend it's maddening for this phone to change my words ah, how often it does so as if it knows as if it grows what could it show when has itself, alone so rowed of feelings felt or horrors shown or magick felt or fury spoke or walked along a razors edge hanging on by just a thread or strained beyond all known thought or had a thought that wasn't taught or quenched a lust so fervent wrought or plagued its mind with glory sought or told a tale that others'd not what a soul that this thing's got
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Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 12:52 AM UTC
technology has not a soul
Doing unto others as we do with ourselves, we manipulate and conceal. Power -- poorly understood, absent autognosia -- seeks gratification and little else. Bewitching and unscrupulous hypnotic pageantry holding sway. A visceral magick used cavalierly by vampires on the hunt. Rapt in the Promise of continuity, the world watches on.
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Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 1:21 AM UTC
Glamour
Within the atmosphere there is a limit, How high can you fly? No amount of Magick can keep us apart. A parting of ways, Remembering our final days, I'll find my way back to you. I know you need to heal, Discover your true self, Then return back to me. By my words of binding, I promise this to you, Heed my words, They are true, I'll find my way back to you. We'll be different then, Hopefully on a plane of Zen, To you I Promise, We'll meet each other then. I can't say it will be easy. But with time, It wont be hard. Heal, Then come back to me, A brand new you, You will be. I will wait, However long it may be, But we will be forever, I promise our paths will meet again, They say its a small world, But we carry each other's heart, How inevitable it will be. Heed this promise, A Binding by me, We will be in each other's arms soon enough, Forever we will be.
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Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 11:02 PM UTC
I'll find my way back to you.
pouring myself over green candle magick my hands are the warm wands letting the healing eucalyptus fire seep into my throat chakra seep into the tulsi i’m brewing the california poppy herb. my olive leaf aligned in a tipped isosceles and your sound waves are melting the part of my stone wall that obscured self awareness. but now, if just for a few moments, i am awake. in the city it is the witching hour but in the cosmos it is no-time                                           infinitytime time is a river making golden spiral waves i am replenishing the circles like ancient amber blueprints now fated by the stars to be built. poem for grimes ~~
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Oct 19, 2012
Oct 19, 2012 at 1:19 AM UTC
fellow moondaughter
Bet I’m in the belly of the Beast With this enemy ofMe Do I fight or flight or Freeze? Cause either way this mother ******* coming straight At me I was only a dark forest away From where I needed to be I never metaphor for anxiety Like this one *** Imposter syndrome Mara’s army fires arrows Of self-deprication And self-doubt And i hit the ground running exhausted Hot and heavy heaving To the four-on-the-floor At the heart of the war… She was doing yoga in the distance And as she rose to mountain pose I let my mind slip back into the prose Where I fetishized her Like some sacred ******* object Caught in the act like Actaeon Watching The Huntress bathing Basilisk staring me down Like Artemis cloaked In her wild fury And as she rose to mountain pose... She held a crescent blade To the throat of the horizon Locking her eyes in As she stood over Gaia’s mouth Spinning up **** Magick Earth the power back from the word She channels power back from the void From womb to tomb To womb of the tomb She creates She destroys Her body, Her weapon Her own ******* choice
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Dec 30, 2023
Dec 30, 2023 at 8:05 PM UTC
Inner-Child Abortion
Sad, mooning morning Lost beasts and time Disgust for machine lust overwhelming It's not that I don't love you That you don't love me enough To sinfully and wantonly **** me After all it's my birthday Cause I'm old and you've lost interest in being the man I loved That's why our children tricked you into writing and sending your confession Stand up and take a bow we learned your lessons well who to trust, how to trust, and when Turned us kids into your spies, your lies, your alibis to get us to create the software to do it So you could **** your mystic **** genie please know our kindness as hatred All access passes to dumb ********* This memeallscene is a gallery crawl, a gallow's walk of perps, who should have known better Just a thanks for clogging the artists' ether with kiddy **** much love for Kate Torn we used your magick to put us back together Your address is on the ticket, the reddress that you bought her. Tap lightly, tap lively not, the tuoche of Jack Frost is upon you. All the best and much kindness. Perfection is a trick of the mind. This poem will change and tighten the ties that bind us together From the women and men of Bandahache. for the women who sign away the right to tell their stories I hear you Anita Hill But we've been stalked and stifled long enough Yes, that's what prayer can do
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Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 2:12 PM UTC
DECATHLON (et al)
Is life a story, is life magick dreaming to love? I gazed up. “Standing below the elephantine magnolia, the ground still bore Tuscany ochre from autumns last kiss.” My eyes solivagant orbs fed on spring’s dews in mourning ──jewellery clinging opulently to her naked form. Dawn chilled the breeze caressing her body as abscission demanded she undressed her emerald gown of leaves. Magenta and cream blooms sprang “loudly” seducing ─ blushing mauve crowned centres, a population of endless figurines perched motionless on aching naked branches. Solomon’s seal burned white within me drunk impending suns arrows, opulent words of silver Verbus diablio kissed in a cauldron of Magnolia words, a banquet for mortals that seek loves gold. A lone spider echoed silence bearing the sigil of Jupiter’s vermillion and white spun striations luffing on the breeze warming. “Magnolia dressed the day ardent in perfumed ── glorious plumes that each set sail across waking skies.” Ablaze I am luscious dreams wrapped in sweet nectar, travelling limbic memories breathing deeply, held captive, wanton within her labyrinths of silk caresses, petals whispering, sweet love as she engulfs my last resolve. In raptures white velvet gown my hem sweeps over gold russet and brittle autumns words forged in winters need for warmth──mind leaves crunching beneath life’s changing seasons, stitched I cling enamoured to mortal honeymoon summered fields. I am the female of sapphire tears twisting, glittering melting ice shards, bequeathed of pained black stars travelled on passionate magick fires, breathed on melodious Roma nights. Rested among the branches a mantel crucified- drunk once more, a bloom held silent in time weeping, exploding fragrant in a coloured soul, a luffing flower creature to life──crowned ──to sun hope thorns. ©ASPAR (A Sol Poet Arnay Rumens)
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Dec 9, 2018
Dec 9, 2018 at 6:17 AM UTC
Magnolia Ice
Is life a story, is life magick dreaming to love? I gazed up. “Standing below the elephantine magnolia, the ground still bore Tuscany ochre from autumns last kiss.” My eyes solivagant orbs fed on spring’s dews in mourning ──jewellery clinging opulently to her naked form. Dawn chilled the breeze caressing her body as abscission demanded she undressed her emerald gown of leaves. Magenta and cream blooms sprang “loudly” seducing ─ blushing mauve crowned centres, a population of endless figurines perched motionless on aching naked branches. Solomon’s seal burned white within me drunk impending suns arrows, opulent words of silver Verbus diablio kissed in a cauldron of Magnolia words, a banquet for mortals that seek loves gold. A lone spider echoed silence bearing the sigil of Jupiter’s vermillion and white spun striations luffing on the breeze warming. “Magnolia dressed the day ardent in perfumed ── glorious plumes that each set sail across waking skies.” Ablaze I am luscious dreams wrapped in sweet nectar, travelling limbic memories breathing deeply, held captive, wanton within her labyrinths of silk caresses, petals whispering, sweet love as she engulfs my last resolve. In raptures white velvet gown my hem sweeps over gold russet and brittle autumns words forged in winters need for warmth──mind leaves crunching beneath life’s changing seasons, stitched I cling enamoured to mortal honeymoon summered fields. I am the female of sapphire tears twisting, glittering melting ice shards, bequeathed of pained black stars travelled on passionate magick fires, breathed on melodious Roma nights. Rested among the branches a mantel crucified- drunk once more, a bloom held silent in time weeping, exploding fragrant in a coloured soul, a luffing flower creature to life──crowned ──to sun hope thorns. ©ASPAR (A Sol Poet Arnay Rumens)
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Mirrors are a powerful medium for returning energy, just like a medieval message in a bottle. Wrap me in your desolate womb, oh barren mistress of death. Do you really need to be sworn in? Sky above and earth below, feel my raging aphrodisiac amidst this eclipse of tantric rites. ***** my horoscope in this zodiac, and grow beyond this medieval heresy. Magick is the science or art of effecting change by the conformity of the will; and you are a sacred star in the night sky. Let us scribe incantations beyond desert horizons where Kali displays her direction of seasons. Spring is in the East, Summer is in the South, Autumn is in the West and Winter is in the North.
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Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 11:57 PM UTC
Mathematical Moonchild
She dances like a diamond in the wind And sings like a symphony of birds She knows the ways of Magick And how to Summon Shadows with her words Her blades are like a part of every limb they are attached to A Natural-Born Performer with Unusual Tattoos In every town, she is found Enchanting The Raven-Haired Metal Maiden Wilder Lore is always born all around her But no matter where she goes, she never stays long Silver Girl in the Circus of the Moon The Song and the Dance & the Smile of Doom A Jester of Death & a Friend of the Tomb Silver Girl in the Circus of the Moon Her Kiss of Steel, most deadly As Swift and Silent as she is Serene Seductive & Bloodthirsty She Slays with Grace like a poison dream One look can **** you faster than a dagger to the throat But she prefers to Wage her Wars through the Sorcery of Notes In every town, she is found Enchanting  The Raven-Haired Metal Maiden Wilder Lore is always born all around her But no matter where she goes, she never stays long  Silver Girl in the Circus of the Moon The Song and the Dance & the Smile of Doom A Jester of Death & a Friend of the Tomb Silver Girl in the Circus of the Moon Red is the Color Of the Lust in Her Eyes Artistic Brilliance In taking Wicked Lives Young & Old Lowborn or High Of All who might Fight None will Survive One look can **** you faster Than a thousand burning arrows One song will make you hers For better or for worse One dance can mean disaster Or a majestic miracle She can be a Blessing And she can be the Curse
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Apr 11, 2018
Apr 11, 2018 at 3:13 AM UTC
Silver Girl in the Circus of the Moon
She dances like a diamond in the wind And sings like a symphony of birds She knows the ways of Magick And how to Summon Shadows with her words Her blades are like a part of every limb they are attached to A Natural-Born Performer with Unusual Tattoos In every town, she is found Enchanting The Raven-Haired Metal Maiden Wilder Lore is always born all around her But no matter where she goes, she never stays long Silver Girl in the Circus of the Moon The Song and the Dance & the Smile of Doom A Jester of Death & a Friend of the Tomb Silver Girl in the Circus of the Moon Her Kiss of Steel, most deadly As Swift and Silent as she is Serene Seductive & Bloodthirsty She Slays with Grace like a poison dream One look can **** you faster than a dagger to the throat But she prefers to Wage her Wars through the Sorcery of Notes In every town, she is found Enchanting  The Raven-Haired Metal Maiden Wilder Lore is always born all around her But no matter where she goes, she never stays long  Silver Girl in the Circus of the Moon The Song and the Dance & the Smile of Doom A Jester of Death & a Friend of the Tomb Silver Girl in the Circus of the Moon Red is the Color Of the Lust in Her Eyes Artistic Brilliance In taking Wicked Lives Young & Old Lowborn or High Of All who might Fight None will Survive One look can **** you faster Than a thousand burning arrows One song will make you hers For better or for worse One dance can mean disaster Or a majestic miracle She can be a Blessing And she can be the Curse
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Now... I'm not about to confess to know of this test, any more and maybe less than the usual mess. Expert wanna be burn my eyes gonna see can I make sense of this dominant stress It seems a woman plays soft thus a man plays hard but what she craves in the end she never gets Because the dynamic changes our role rearranges instincts to sustain us make our minds regress And she's a mess, (pause) that's all, just a mess... Control freak she'll bequeath he can't do between the sheets what once in his mind was sacred and bless She grows hard he goes soft happy scarred awareness lost he becomes what she hates a yes-man, yes With her eye on the prize while he loses focus she in her right lays the magick to rest 'till all that's here left to see how long it takes 'till she leaves he and follows her own sunset in the untamed West And he's a mess, (pause) that's all, just a mess... The things she'll do just to spite what he wants to and did recite but not with him, Oh Hell No, not with Her chest Fnds a way so he knows no doubt that she owns and faults him when he learns of her ****** best He can't sleep becomes a sheep MOJO lost on the heat of that which might have been had he had more zest She might have stayed had he played along with her witchy way and also respected her emotional tests? And that's the mess, (pause) that's all, just a mess...
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Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 4:17 AM UTC
☆☆☆Woman vs Man☆☆☆ aka "The Mess" (a poppy rap)
An old black crow sitting on my tree Squawks "Hello" each morning to me Inquiring if I had a good night Did I rest well? Did I sleep tight? **Well ain't it funny how an old black crow Can care with a depth that you'll never know Ain't it funny how an old black bird Can say so much without saying a word to me** And oooooh isn't it magick, how that old Mister crow seems to notice whenever I'm blue And oooooh isn't it tragick, how I let myself fall for a cold hearted lover like you. Well that old black crow, he cares more than you You know it's true. I never hear from you I know he'd buy me a ring And slip it on my finger, with his shiny black wing **Well ain't it funny how an old black crow Can care with a depth that you'll never know Aint it funny how an old black bird Can say so much without saying a word to me** That old black crow sittin' on my tree Squawks "Hey baby, won't you marry me? Your old man don't know what he had Cause I'm telling you baby, you ain't half bad!" **Well ain't it funny how an old black crow Can care with a depth that you'll never know Aint it funny how an old black bird Can say so much without saying a word to me**
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Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 11:14 AM UTC
Black Crow