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"pentacle" poems
some say im cynical satanical that my minds mechanical diabolical spoken essence erotical detestable jaded imagery hypnotical unstoppable liable to solve the unsolvable while prodigal poets drown in their nautical modules im a criminal a cannibal storming the street like an animal shooting cannonballs through prison walls splattering the generals in bathroom stalls hostil leave you poppin pain pills in the hospital uncontrollable my temper is flammable mumbles illegible choking you with your pentacle leaving onlookers speckled the abominable mental protocols unstoppable the unfeasible constable shooting up the card table willing and able to call your fables and smash apart a label i raise babies in unstable cradles let you bleed out like cracked ladles engorged in unholy wars exploring the corruption of the core deplored uniformed for the clash of the double edge swords taking control of vocal chords a meet of the hordes of the horned misinformed adorned in sunlight trying to shine just 1 line at a time until my life signs decline almost time light and shadow combined Horus and set by hindsight blessed yet to contest to the rest of this mess by melancholy caressed as i arise unrest from the cess of the un confessed blessed
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Jul 9, 2012
Jul 9, 2012 at 6:14 AM UTC
1 line at a time
I come from Bleeding gums Skinny arms And ketchup smothered chicken From dyed blue hair And chipped black nail polish From "There’s no use crying over spilt milk" And "You’re not the first person to fail history" I come from Cracked bathtubs Cracked skulls Crooked teeth Oversized sweaters Overly sweetened tea From diabetes Breast cancer And depression I come from black heads And pimples Frizzy hair Half filled journals Half empty coffee cups Purple lipstick Scars from dropping the oven mitt Seared flesh on wrists I come from Cigarette smoke curling under summer skies From fake fire places Freshly baked cookies Poetry in the form of blood cells From mental hospital stays From blinding headaches That vibrate through teeth I come from Pentacle necklaces And pearl bracelets Apple perfume New York City visits I come from Trees And grass And flowers I come from the beach From salty air And sandy toes I come from everywhere And I’m going nowhere
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Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 7:16 PM UTC
I Come From...
(I wrote this last winter, I think.) My bedroom may not be the most fantastic you’ve ever seen. There are clothes strewn about, the linen is crumpled; Instruments laying around, Christmas lights on the wall and a clock that changes colours. Bedside table piled with books I’ve yet to read and 3D glasses from the 7:30 pm showing of The 50th Anniversary Doctor Who special. Griffyndor banner Zombie Survival poster pentacle drawing guitar poster All Time Low poster, pictures album covers drawings on the walls. Simple… but this is mine. It’s where I’ve laughed with her, cried with her, Gotten annoyed as **** with her. Where we snuck out at 2 in the morning, to walk up and down the sidewalk to dance in the street and sing Nickelback as loud as we could. It’s where the nights that kept me alive went down, and stayed down, in more ways than one that summer. It’s where we had our first kiss and where we had our last. I feel like my waves extinguished your flame that once burned anyone who tried to ***** it. And for that, I’m sorry. So burn bright, honeybabe, and show them what you’re made of. Burn brighter than me. And remember. If you ever need a place to go… This bedroom is simple, but it’s ours.
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Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 1:26 PM UTC
A Poem For My Best Friend
Five points flicker-tease, "How will you stop our yawning gaps? Can you tip-toe tap us out a doubter's ledge, foot-con Pentagon's firm routes? Or diag'nals dance to coin Pentacle's conjuring? We'd relish reels, spun round in Circle's blur — unbroken, unending."
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Mar 27, 2010
Mar 27, 2010 at 11:22 AM UTC
Five points
That's what her mother would say she just celebrates different and my appearance gave me away well I'm not really heaven sent! To cool music, my friend succumbs pentacle of silver she does wear beats a song from her african drums so wonderful to share a harper too, well she has one sounds so pure and fresh a ****** to learn and keep in tune I'd just get in a hopeless mess training me to the spiritual she really opens up my eyes auras, circles and mirrors the wonders in the skies impulsive I am not at all I'm quiet, and I calculate but slowly coming out of my shell with the help of my best mate sat in the kitchen by her hearth well, by her great big oven the pastor and his gentle flock must think I've joined a coven ;o)
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Jan 31, 2011
Jan 31, 2011 at 11:00 AM UTC
Judy's Challenge-One Of Her Tribe
silver horizon i will reach the pentacle of the mountain hold the moon in my hands accomplish all of my dreams
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Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 10:19 PM UTC
Silver Horizon
I sat at the edge of the metallic seat my bare buttock sizzling electric shock as she knelt there her head buried between the V of my leg as she embarked on a mission to make my snake weep My wet eyelids twitched playfully i shivered though my naked body was saturated in my own sweat Her workmanship was undeniably a talent How her sleek cold tongue and her soft palm worked in mutual partnership was a cryptic mystery She swirled the tongue round my sugarcane and her hand stroked up and down in calculated steps The feeling was magical ripples and goosebumps decorated my African skin My warm blood coursed all over my body as the body pistons pumped with herculean energy Her warm saliva covered my hard snaked as she worked with painters concentration A real proffesor she was in her trade At time she would lift her eyes and wink at me she understood too well i was possessed by her tongue's magic For the next half hour her tongue studied my maleness morphology She ****** pinched and cuddled my ***** and the pentacle of love She neither lost the momentum nor slowed the pace Deeper n deeper she let my snake explore her mouth cavity At times she would gagged as the eyeless ***** probed in her throat Her smile gave thumbs up she enjoyed every moment of this job My nose was flared as i breathed like a charging irritated buffalo The pleasure rode me to the realm of gods From a dead slumber she awakened my glands Whirlpool of sensation swirled on my sensitive glan And euphoric spasm swept me till i was one concentric feeling of fluids Warm milky tears gushed and hit the back of her throat she paused and breathed deep then resumed her unfinished business She hungrily lapped the oozing cream and once more winked as my snake went limp.....she bit her luscious lips with lust
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Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 3:08 AM UTC
Tongue's magic
I sat at the edge of the metallic seat my bare buttock sizzling electric shock as she knelt there her head buried between the V of my leg as she embarked on a mission to make my snake weep My wet eyelids twitched playfully i shivered though my naked body was saturated in my own sweat Her workmanship was undeniably a talent How her sleek cold tongue and her soft palm worked in mutual partnership was a cryptic mystery She swirled the tongue round my sugarcane and her hand stroked up and down in calculated steps The feeling was magical ripples and goosebumps decorated my African skin My warm blood coursed all over my body as the body pistons pumped with herculean energy Her warm saliva covered my hard snaked as she worked with painters concentration A real proffesor she was in her trade At time she would lift her eyes and wink at me she understood too well i was possessed by her tongue's magic For the next half hour her tongue studied my maleness morphology She ****** pinched and cuddled my ***** and the pentacle of love She neither lost the momentum nor slowed the pace Deeper n deeper she let my snake explore her mouth cavity At times she would gagged as the eyeless ***** probed in her throat Her smile gave thumbs up she enjoyed every moment of this job My nose was flared as i breathed like a charging irritated buffalo The pleasure rode me to the realm of gods From a dead slumber she awakened my glands Whirlpool of sensation swirled on my sensitive glan And euphoric spasm swept me till i was one concentric feeling of fluids Warm milky tears gushed and hit the back of her throat she paused and breathed deep then resumed her unfinished business She hungrily lapped the oozing cream and once more winked as my snake went limp.....she bit her luscious lips with lust
Continue reading...
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Serpent waterfalls cascading silence Pisces wept for all ages and sirens Singing sweet they surround this island Until watery giants rose from tiny eyelids Drink this fragrant cup of resonant mind-scent Freely given for all whom I sent To remind me of the living descent We all must pass through embodied or absent awaken for half a second, a minute, a century the five-lettered name is etched upon your blood a pentagram of love drowning in the fiery heavens swallow the tear shaped seeds one by one until a labyrinth of beauty blossoms in your soul breathe in the fragrance of the word breathe in the fragrance of the flowery worlds purposefully place the rotting pentacle upon the altar of the SUN dip the hem of your dress in the cooling waters of the moon and it will turn the color of hummingbird wings dream of nighttime's golden apples blooming in forgotten orchards in the spring awaken for half a second, a minute, a century
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Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 1:01 PM UTC
the spanish poets
So I've heard, As of late That those of importance Are considered too great To be called "crazy" Money, buys "eccentric" Well, heavens me, I was unaware I thought money, paid the electric I prefer crazy That, Surely I am Loony as they come I bare no scam The things I do The things I think I'm well aware I'm on the brink My funny hats The bluntness I speak Yep, I've reached the peak The pentacle If you will And I care not, Who foots the bill I'll sing, dance And loudly cry I'll change moods in a snap Not give a **** why I'm not crazy Just eccentric And **** all your money That pays the electric
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Feb 8, 2017
Feb 8, 2017 at 9:17 PM UTC
Eccentric
A sacred geometry figure, or a plasma’s luminous sphere? It balances harmony like a pentacle evoking four elements with ether’s unseen connection. a symbol of mathematical perfection, a talisman to evoke the four, a heptagram's  triangular symmetry— a charm to strengthen energy lines... Or too dark a black hole! yet to be define.
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Sep 19, 2025
Sep 19, 2025 at 12:15 PM UTC
The Star of symmetry🌠
What to think when looking off into the skies. Day or night, it seems to carry you off into that mystical place that creates the constant illusion. That place where the Earth circles the Sun and the stars combust into bright bodies of gases and fumes. Gone yet we still see them nightly. I dream of coming back from the black holes lost in space and seeing a world where we did not revel in our own filth and build towers to infinity on the under-paid wages of their captors. A world where opinion and culture didn't create a veil between the inhabitors of this planet. I dream of a world where I won't be set apart by the pentacle around my neck or judged by the look of my style. Where I won't fear the birth of a child because of my own fear of the future. One step at a time we breathe toward recreation.
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Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 2:42 PM UTC
What to Think (Free Write)
With thine chalice and dagger May the blood rite begin From life line to fate line you cut across To the pentacle, To Lucifer I gladly gave in To prosperity and justice, the upside down cross Renich Tasa Uberaca Biasa Icar Lucifer Your power is great, words I am at loss To Demons, Spirits, Deities, and the Dead I confer Praise Lucifer! Praise Hecate! From my beginning to my end I follow thee, to you I tend
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Nov 2, 2021
Nov 2, 2021 at 3:00 PM UTC
Blood Rite