"magicks" poems
Standing upon a hill, I.
Under black & purple sunwheel.
Standing with sword in right hand, representing morality and righteousness.
Standing with mine own decapitated head in left hand, represting violent and sudden removal of Ego &&& it's prompt reclaimation.
Standing soaked in the blood of the wound as my sacramental rebirth offering and cleansing.
My own next level of Apotheosis.
Kept alive by sheer will & & & magicks.
Headless mystic standing akin to an Autosacrifical Kali Ma.
Standing as Ego.
Standing as Godhead.
I.A.O.
Standing as Headless Warrior.
Omnia et Nihil.
I am become The Other, the Ritual Evolution.
Hail.
Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 8:41 PM UTC
She smelled of wild lavender and deep magicks,
The scent hanging in the air like a golden silence,
I'm trying to hold tightly yet composure is first to dissolve,
Senses fall one by one until no dominoes are left,
Stop staring, act natural and crumble on the inside,
Don't speak, reserve your efforts for a smile,
Blown fuse serviced from the under-wing like vertigo in my veins, and neatly betwixt two fingers twirl a cotton drapery,
Framed in silk halo, enshrouding like auras in a Milky Way of phantasmagoria.
Until my thoughts become in summary and each breathe becomes shorter than the last.
The artistry of her elegance like sleek fine line-work on vintage paper and I'm ... feather light.
And in those tresses I'd seen that sheen before, in the ripple of calm ocean waves, and in auburn at sunset.
I'd seen that gloss in her eyes perched upon petals as morning dew and rain upon windows in my quiet times,
Between the silhouetting slopes of her contours as dunes upon the horizon, there's an eclipse in her lips that would not speak in any less than measured prosody nor kiss without dreamscape grandeur.
Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 8:40 PM UTC
Endless abundance,
you are, a hidden treasure;
infused in magicks,
synchronized with Mother Moon,
divine feminine of life.
Jul 10, 2020
Jul 10, 2020 at 12:44 AM UTC
love in my throat, caught stuck, then swallowed--
dulled razor blades descend, hit my stomach,
and dissolve into honeyed drink that soothes me.
it is rough to start, as we may all know,
and eases itself into our core when we let the right one in.
and i did, without question. we may fight, sometimes,
about the silliest things, but that fire
is what heats my heart when i'm at my lowest.
she's beautiful beyond words, and sweet and cute and kind,
but never tell her that or she'll curse you with her evil
wizard magicks.
i love what she is and what she isn't--
patient (no), passionate (yes), and that she cares
about me in a way that invalidates my previous hurt.
i worry that i won't be good enough, that she'll find someone better
for her, or that i'll do something stupid to ruin it all.
but the essence i've consumed by living teaches me to improve,
compels me, not just for her sake but mine.
love is teaching me, warm honeyed drink in me, and i listen.
all that i can say after this is: thank you.
Sep 21, 2024
Sep 21, 2024 at 10:49 PM UTC
We must rise
To the occasion
While Angels are weak
And Daemons are strong
We are the Pagans
Don't be fooled
By the Christians
Standing tall
They call us evil
But don't believe
Because they have a grudge
Against the Magicks
Pagans are kind
We really are
But don't be fooled
By the Angel's Scar
We rise
To this occasion
To take back
What is really ours
The Pain we spent
Over the Grimoir deep
To seek the spell
To sing and speak
Our cauldron bubbles
But don't get confused
With those stereotypes
We are nice
We are kind
We worship the sky
With the earth,
The seas,
And the fire
We love
We laugh
We care
We die
We live like you do
Only we believe
In Mother Earth
And take care of her
Just the same
You must do the same
Only different all the ways
Why spread lies
And then you hide
To fear something you not know
Why think
That we are evil
Because you were told
Take your time learning
What you do not know
So you can say evil
But you will learn
We have nothing to hide
We do not take side
We love our god and goddess
We will teach you
In our ways
Then you can say
Who is wrong
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 1:28 AM UTC
The sand is coarse among the waves,
The foamy froth curls, rants and raves,
The grainy ground is wet and packed,
And seaweed from the ground is hacked.
Plucked from stormy shallows dark -
bold fish swims among the shark.
Twisting in the deeper pools,
Threads of green unfurl in spools.
Monster beyond comprehension,
Slim limbs hanging in suspension.
Serpent lurks in Blue Lagoon,
Carved in its scales a single rune.
Magicks infuse currents strong -
powers deep and tendrils long.
The shrouded spirit, great insurgent,
Mairocant, the last sea serpent.
Aug 17, 2020
Aug 17, 2020 at 6:07 PM UTC
Running fingers over the ridges of your rib cage
Sliding gently down your spine
Feelings linger over the bridges of time and age
Your beautiful eyes are divine.
Tightly woven fabrics define your curvature
Patterns carve out your mind
Brightly colored magicks entwine our pleasure
Tattered edges by design.
Dreadlocks twisting like branches from a tree
Matted blonde bow ties.
The shock that kissing you causes in me
Goosebumps couldn't lie.
Our time here, together, is sacred to me
I pray for daily reminding
Our childhood fears doused in good company
The Lovers light is shining.
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 9:21 PM UTC
We are the wood
And we stand as one
While outside, the world unfolds
Mother Earth is ever-shifting
Her children have grown feet
And we look on
As they warily step closer
Hush, children
Quiet now
Man treads between our trunks
Wide-eyed, he stares
Up through our branches
Shafts of daylight glow
Through dappled shadows
From the springs
He takes water
In a silver chalice
Of shining light
But he changes
When night falls
And the howling
Chills him to the bone
He has magicks
And strikes the stones together
A quick spark
And a flame
Furious winds beat
At the strange scarlet water
That climbs higher
Charring our skin
We stand helpless
Sweating sap
As the frantic, blistering heat
Bears down upon us
Tearing us away
And when the rains come
The blaze gives in
And dies away
Leaving nothing but ashes
But Man left his magicks
We are the whispering wood
Standing solemn and silent
Watching
As a single sprout
Peeks through the soil
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 12:03 PM UTC