"magickal" poems
You tie my gut in knots
Never expected this in my plot
Twisting my lochs with
Nervous fingers locking
Hands with you is magickal.
You tie my mind in knots
Its like a roller coaster lost
In space the comet's frost
Ignites a shower of colors
Cascading across your eyes...
You tie my heart in knots
I pray it doesn't clot my
Thoughts about our
Dreams about our
Kids about our
Means of getting by...
And I love having this in common with you.
Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 9:10 PM UTC
Gazing through the tallest
green nettles
I realized they do
not bite me
Cause it was not the day
for stings and aching
Cause i had the black
mountain boots
and a heart
on my
dim
dark
sport gown
My hands reached
upwards
the Heavens
towards
the white yello
Crown
of
Elder's Abundance
Where Scented Blossoms
Coloured my skin
And exposed my life lines
After
The coolest tangerine
Lemonade
I sat on the black soil
squished young grasses
and found the
tiniest
snail
baby
My palm was a giant Plato
For it's snailish leg
On the left one
he was without weight
portruding forth
to his destination
Is it possible that
his house was
3,5 mm
long
Isn't it cute
that when streched
was 7 mm
at lenght
Visible horns
like 1 mm
and half of it
The upper
The downward
Twotwo
Four
What are you looking at
My lines or me
If he climbs from my
left palm on the right one
It's ment to be
I'll visit the seaside
Fibbonacci House Spiralled
Inner layers with colours
outer still
and translucent
Is it possible
this tiny snail
thinks about me
It didn't work
It remained
on my heart's side
Then I moved this
cutest creature
on my right palm
Little little snail
you're not a match
to squeeze
From the right to the left
I thought to myself
he is she
i don't know
snail's so young
for sure it doesn't seek another snail
To cherrish and love
Yet
It
Climbed on my left thumb
Beautiful in motion
As a revolution
For better days
It is my heart's side
My vision became
Sharp
Clouds
Waffed all around on the deepest blue
White and puffy
Magickal
Metallic
Dragonfly
Emerged out of
Nowhere
Had landed on a spider web
cocoon
on the Verge
of Enchanted Forest
Where grave monument resides
Dragonfly
was in the air
the invisible wings fluttered
My sharp vision
focused on
another three
Blueish
camerades
They don't need los zapatos
They are not obsessed as
Imelda was
And i wasn't thinking
about that at all
This words are for you:
thank you for the music
but the dragonflies
buterflies I love
most.
They were near my
heart,
one caressed among
tall grasses
one butterfly
also
not in oslo
and
Fibbonnaci Friend
who gave me this
Sharp vision
To see the magic
revealing all
around.
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 5:14 PM UTC
Caught the vampire's failing smile,
cracked by teeth & venom,
wind-walking among the trees,
talking to the vipers
& the rats & the bats & the
men of the old bonetown.
Mr Mann had the right idea,
burn your books & get the hell outta Dodge.
Do not pass go & do not stop,
do NOT make out in the back of a beat-up old auto
parked next to the hypermarket on Dawn & Vine.
Mr Mann up front,
peering through the cracks in the windscreen,
the cracks in reality.
He can see the vampire's slow smile,
the shadows passing across the face of the TV screen,
& hear the old ghost voices,
the old radio voices, the 1949 voices.
Blood on leather,
black roots rising,
saliva on after-effects & after-echoes,
the apocalypse riders chasing the moon up the old dark valley,
the moon chasing the apocalypse riders right back
down the old dark valley to whatever hell they came from.
The vampires! The vampires!
Children beat hasty retreats,
hide under the boxes back of the laundromat,
not daring to peek
as black boots crunch gravel.
Mr Mann has the right surmise,
get outta the books & into guns,
get into heavy metal & iron drag,
get into lead & something magickal,
long forgotten lore & hoodoo voodoo
from years & years ago.
The vampire's smile turns awful yellow,
fades as the stars wheel & that tired old sun begins its ascent,
fades as the dawn breaks over the desert winds & cacti
& the lovers wake in their motel room in the back of beyond
& fumble for their stakes & knives & garlic *****
Easy now for Mr Mann in the sun-kissed big blue.
Hunt it down in the tumbledowns & old desert towns.
Kick off the jams, break open the locks.
Hose it down with oil & strike a match.
Burn the reality right off that face
& that face right off reality
Splat on the sand. Grue on the sand. Black on the sand.
Mr Mann walking back to the autombile, back to happiness,
radio playing a little something from 92,
or was it 93, he really can't remember now.
Feb 20, 2012
Feb 20, 2012 at 3:16 PM UTC
.
Merrytree the Holly sprite
danced across the snow,
no mark did she leave in sight
wither whether she doth go.
So joyful and magickal is she,
darting in betwixt the flakes,
her wild spirit cavorting free,
laughing at mischief she makes.
© Pagan Paul (30/08/18)
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 6:43 AM UTC
Magickal black light
**** star probe
cylinders bright
Fish of 12
make bread in abundance
for 5000
knead the axle
the sphere that sits
adhere regret
when Jesus wept
for one dead
death the **********
the ******* let loose
Not the original
sleep for all
But the horrible macabre
That us befalls
Aug 18, 2016
Aug 18, 2016 at 10:49 AM UTC
*When deep indigo night
Releases magickal stars from the sky
And tenderly brushes them upon
Your mischievous smiles ~
Herself's stroked by this peculiar
View; then little naughty thoughts start
To conjur an irresistible wish borne inside her
***** "You ~witty man~ deserve one lovely
Kiss on the left cheek." Then another one!
A kiss that's rarely seen ~ a soft one ~
A passionate one! Juicy, yummy charm ~
Resembling a wanton scented humidity
On the beautiful cherry blossoms day ~
On the other one. Right now!
Then at last our lips are lit; as wild
Woods strawberries ~sweet taste~ comes after
They bathe in the warmest sunshine rays.
Waiting to be consumed with
Adoration and gratitude. We are a gift! ~
To one Another. . . I hide bluntly in each
Others Love; and so do you.
We ~lost within our eyes~
Diving to unknown and unrevealed
Dephts, levitating above mysterious
Corners of shadows and light. . .
Only our souls know of.
At last, my love!
We humm, my heart is yours ~
Mesmerized; your heart is wide ~
We kiss, we breathe, oh my!*
To live, to dream a thousand times
And never forget: to live ~to love!
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 7:19 AM UTC
The wheat harvest is Magickal, and you have always invited me into your damp crypt.
Apples are ripe when Demeter searches for her lost offspring, amidst shades of nocturnal eroticism.
Therefore, let us now bake bread with feminine or masculine features in the name of Southern rhythms where the hunt takes place upon acreage of the aristocracy.
Do you have any regrets or farewells in this season?
Let it flow like a bubbling brook through woodlands of this recollected netherworld.
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 11:49 PM UTC
Living Life.
Dream to Dream.
Asleep, but still awake.
Constantly searching for a vision.
Eyelids closed, but still looking.
The mind's curtain is drawn open.
Ancient knowledge awaits the seeker
Wise guides. Magickal symbolism.
Your power lies within.
Questioning reality opens new doors.
New thoughts being the keys.
Everything is a journey.
Information always downloading.
The cycle never stops.
Always learning. Always evolving.
Connect with wisdom, with truth.
Know yourself. Fear nothing.
Dream to Dream.
Nov 18, 2010
Nov 18, 2010 at 5:59 PM UTC
the torch of
a feeble reason lit.
a decision made, ablazed
in a haste passion,
cursory images
fleet
as fragile foam.
the ocean,
thuds
lulls and wilts
promises.
his lean vessel thrives
on magickal waves,
erupts, as a time
borrowed torch,
bold and beautiful.
Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 6:03 AM UTC
Just like the right double-A battery,
This will reign forever.
Rain in peace and joy and love,
Meeting the eternal flames of Passion halfway down the sky.
Not steam! But Lo!
Outpourings of infinite rainbows!
Glory B of heaven’s earth,
Met here in promised land.
1 must be careful, however,
Not to cut oneself on the sharp G
Of the Liberty Bell. Go!
Homestead upon the river Styx,
Immortalized with diamonds and mirrors,
Refracting about the smokeless fires,
Casting colours in all directions!
Y the English spelling, you ask?
Why, Americans are ever so silly,
Forgetting the seven colours!
Trying to make them 6.
‘Twill never do.
There must be at least 7, the magickal number
To make up the grand 8.
aleph-acher-aleph
Until there is only Everything Left.
Jul 11, 2012
Jul 11, 2012 at 5:33 PM UTC
As I begin to write,
Understand,
My head has gone to the office.
I arrange myself to review my dreams,
Enter into this the golden nexus,
Lay down my temptations to the laws I perceive.
Receive this,
A silent form of opulence,
A suspended form of decadence,
A river bathed in moonlight,
And a snake protecting his own coffin.
I can afford this to you,
Wrapped in red,
Hollowed,
Dignified.
The sands of these forces may conceal,
Yet,
They have never lied to me,
These forces,
That beauty graciously hides.
Seven precious stones singing,
Seven heavenly melodies breeding,
Seven treasured colors,
Stolen,
From the rainbows of immortality.
The butterfly truly does dance with the wind!
Love,
As the salamander conjures up her fire,
Rests,
Eternally,
Peacefully,
Coiled amongst her flames.
Sensations of yesterday,
I,
Never obtained access to witness.
The ghosts of ghosts impregnate themselves...
With the mists of my mind.
The perfection of the soul,
The dissolution of my ego.
An enigmatic pragmatism.
Is it justified?
White light travelling,
Thoroughly through,
The halls of disengaged magickal prisms.
A Shepard and his lost dog.
This field leads to the omen.
I am transient and omnipotent,
God manifest.
I am both man and woman.
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 2:38 AM UTC
My sweet lovely lady who brightens my day
Awakes with eyes smiling which beg me to stay
Her eyes full of laughter as green as the sea
Now whisper her heart's song with magickal glee.
With soft silent motion I'm warmed by her breath
I breathe in her spirit which saves me from death
For death would come swiftly if we cold not be
Two soul mates as one who must love to be free.
The closeness so glorious a moment it takes
When breathless excitement within me awakes
The veil of her red locks cascade down her face
Inviting caresses of nature's soft lace.
Oh heavenly whisper: "Good morning" she said
As sweet perfect moist lips in smile I see spread
"Good morning my sweetheart" the whispered reply
Bursts forth from my lips with the force of a sigh.
Then hand touching hand with caressing which lingers
Brings gesture to close, interlocking our fingers
Soon arching above velvet-soft are our kisses
Each touch now fulfilling our passionate wishes.
Once more eyes of passion make one of two lovers
With giggles and laughter now both under covers
I long for these mornings, the rest of my life
Two soul mates and best friends, a man and his wife.
J. Sandy
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 10:55 AM UTC
From all that is magickal within me,
From all that is divine within me,
The seeds of my soul, I now sow,
So that all of my dreams may grow.
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 12:40 PM UTC
.
*This forest night belongs to us,
with cool air so fresh and crisp,
held hands follow the tiny lights
of the dancing Will-O'-the-Wisp.
Guiding us through sleeping trees,
along paths that wend and twist,
across glades of woodland grass
bedecked with eerie evening mist.
Leading us to a magickal place
where inhibitions take a loss,
this forest night belongs to us
'pon our bed of soft green moss.*
© Pagan Paul (16/06/18)
Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 12:25 PM UTC
Twice a year
once for Yin
and once for Yang
We pass the Balancing Point
and hover there for just a moment
hanging in the Black
perfectly perpendicular
aligned with Our Star
Day lasts as long as Night
and Night no longer than Day
We pass this point
and balance on this edge
just as We begin to explode with verdant Life
and then again We balance here
at the other side of Our Revolution
just as We begin to grow cold and die
These Equal Nights are the doorways to Our Two Worlds
light and dark
Life and Death
Yin and Yang
back and forth from one extreme to the other
in Our Endless Revolutions
but always passing through the same
points of Perfect Balance
in one door and out the other
We live and die all the while
swaying to this Eternal Rhythm
and it shapes us
molds us into Who We Are
What We Have Become
And so We hold these Equal Nights as Sacred
Special
Holy
or Magickal
examples of those brief ineffable moments
of Alignment
and Balance
and Perfection
these Equal Nights guide us to seek those moments
within Ourselves
and without
We feel this rhythm
and We see this balance
return again and again
We see it in Our World
and We feel it within Our Selves
and We strive to achieve that perfection
And so do We accomplish
all Our many
Great Things
Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 3:57 PM UTC
There is a surge of emotion that rises instantly from deep within when I hear favoured sounds
A primal rhythmic piece of music
The contented sigh of a loved one
The crackle of a fire
A whispered secret
Mmmmmmmm
These waves of energy are magickal to me
They enter our bodies and move through us
Merge with our souls
Taking us from where we were just a short moment ago,
To another realm
A delightful, expansive, intimate place within.
Mmmmmmmm
Jan 17, 2013
Jan 17, 2013 at 12:59 PM UTC
Hear the echos of the madman
Coming through so deep
Everything I hear inside my head
Either tortures or puts me to sleep
Nights in the castle
In your ****** white dress
You look so pretty and magickal
I love to see you like this
as the storm comes
and the lightning flash
and the vicious rain
May it all come to pass
Here I sit playing my song
In my mask I'm such a beast
I'm hoping that nothing is wrong
We can devour and enjoy the feast
You come from somewhere long ago
A place where I used to begin
I'm hoping that it can grow
And this is not the beginning of the end
as the storm comes
and the lightning flash
and the vicious rain
May it all come to pass
May 24, 2017
May 24, 2017 at 9:15 AM UTC
It was in that moment
that the veil was dropped
and it could not have been
anything more than magickal.
Those sweet lips,
they just called to me.
I answered;
Longingly, passionately.
Oh, can you feel it?
The cold, hard stare of
Judgement baring down,
Reminding me of my sins.
Then, at the strike of the hour
You were gone into the night-
And with the sound of the alarms
I awoke from my slumber.
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 1:11 AM UTC
She is a queen
But nothing is at it seems
Moved On the chess board like the supreme
Her Soul beauty that creates the dream
The force and the laserbeam
Running into the blissful stream
Taking care of the bloodstream
The white and her name from a melodic theme.
Experiences of the daydreams
Magickal powers with stars and cups to make things a team.
Wheeled within her self that manifests this American dream.
Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 9:29 AM UTC
she reminds me of
magnificent blue waves
raging from the deep dark ocean
reclaiming coast-line without mercy
breaking into thousand shades of blue
purple and green
just under the stars
the water glows bright
in a hue of turquoise
from the plankton amassed
it is warm
inviting
safe
safer than any other place
you could find yourself in
despite all
it is magickal, unreal
a breathing utopia
she makes you desire
to breath underwater
never leaving that place of wonder
Nov 5, 2020
Nov 5, 2020 at 7:55 PM UTC
The Matrix is created and rated
parts of the system waited
Located and related parts of it
collated and deflated
Using the tree to fabricate its dreams
Illusion of the Maya, nothing as it seems
Automation of its product, things to conduct
Here and there, the parts of the Magickal dream.
The force of the beam, rats ran in a stream
The energy used to conduct to create the 13 theme.
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 3:46 AM UTC
Solstice midsummer is famous for revelry around the stones
The sacred stones on Salisbury plain
Laid as monuments by our ancestral people
The henge of countless moons and previous seasonal
wheel turns stands steadfast
Silently they hold the history we crave to unravel
The years of news, turmoil and worship
The rising and setting of our life-giving sun
The bitter cold winters, likewise winter solstice
Where few find solace holding their offerings
Or enjoying the feeble warmth from a far away star
The nature of Stonehenge carries the enigma
Which makes it special, mysterious and commands
Respect, awe and love
I believe like it's close neighbour Avebury
The Henge will remain enigmatic
A giant in the soil of the flat plains
Certain to give us the love it once received from Druidic
Peoples laying down their hopes and their wishes
Spending time absorbing, making and mending
Rekindling the connections around themselves
With the earth, through this massive conduit
The sacred stones everywhere hold their story
Close to their chest, the mirrored knowledge
That embraced the folk that built the magickal elements
Will be there for ever
Claiming the fascination of the masses but the respect
Of few that understand the real Stonehenge
Jul 7, 2018
Jul 7, 2018 at 5:15 AM UTC
Arrows of the web spin like the wheel
Into the reality of the courses i believe
Social apps and scripts like a *** appeal
Things in the cyber magickal realm to make things real
Double arrows of its requests
Grey arrow pending like a guest
The blue arrow for the connection
Pierced by the users intentions
Things created as inventions by the archers of social media in different states of dimensions.
Dec 21, 2018
Dec 21, 2018 at 5:50 AM UTC
Who's to say
that I am extreme
I hide my quirks
in awkward smiles
and inconvenient
small talk
I am a black girl
interrupted which means
I am quite possibly magickal
but invisible to most and really
seen by very few
I guess like all of us
dying to be remembered
dying to become immortal...
Nov 21, 2017
Nov 21, 2017 at 3:19 AM UTC