"scry" poems
This peace you offer
Pinioned prayers and platitudes
Scry in the mercury shattered
Your brittle whispers snap in the rarified air
This madness is thunder at the back of my throat
Ragged and storm weary
I tread water in your wake
Spin my tahrihim and trim the fringe
I am the terminus of fragile breath
Falling away from you
Benedicimus Deum meum adventum et egrediente
There is solace in the blind blue moments
Let me surrender
To the baptism of despair
The upwelling catechism of deliquescence
Souls fall clutching the flesh
Gasping for one more shredding dream
Fill the spinnaker and set sail
I am no longer a seaworthy vessel
This tethered hope you offer
Stinging nettles in my mouth
On flitting wings
Is the drone of hornets in my hair
I crave
Oblivion
And you are bound to your promise
It is my free will
To let go...
06/12/12
TL Boehm
God bless my coming and my going out
melt away/decay
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 11:20 AM UTC
The landscape streaks by,
a slow shift from city streets to mountain passes.
There is a whole world for my eye to scry,
answers are hidden in grassy knoll not university classes.
You have to be stable like a tree,
a stalwart sensor of your surrounding
Find an equilibrium with the world and let your soul free.
You'd be careful not to pry,
whether among-st the sky or grasses
the world has ways to make you cry
but with time all pain passes.
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 12:10 PM UTC
sometimes, late at night
i lie awake, or sit, or even dance
i do not "sleep"
i might drowse, or snooze,
but only temporary reprive-
The Dark
holds its monsters and
pattering, clawed steps
outside of my candlelit chambers
and beyond the fragile makebelieve walls
of my lurking consciousness-
light a candle.
burn the Night.
Smolder your eyes upon the smoke
banish my fears, faint light-
but do not destroy my peace-
morning Light, cast not your hands over
this black scry-stone!
Look but so gently into the Dark's swirling
and staring stars
down upon a ritual laid bare-
agate eyes upon the crown
upon the head of the young Oracle
a story for another time, a
prayer for a beating heart
in another place,
another darkened midnight womb
or perhaps an obsidian tomb--.
fill a chalice and not a mind
tip the contents to then find
a wandering flame spread to the wind
devouring those violent souls that have sinned
as such, topics change like Gaia
dear, as such my mind roams when
I cower in fear--.
in the imaginary arms of a
man I love, the one who can't be near.
Night sings a quiet song of insane
love and gentle terror, a soft-soft
sound that rings eternal
and lulls its listener not to sleep
but into a spell that gathers deep
within the core of the mind
behind the third,
before the eye,
but loud and deafening guilt
that keeps the shade-drawn witch
awake, and the quivering fear
racing in their youthful heart--.
Ladle the light of the stars above
into the cupped hands tonight
and sing the damnation back
to the groping clouds
on the black horizon, the violet and
blue and grey and white
swirling in cohesion and roaring into a wave of
conscious nightmares
i cannot deal with these thoughts
on my mind, resting upon
my heart
my eyes
my mind
my very soul.
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 2:34 PM UTC
Oceans of if's running rough yet smoothly,
In a mind filled with diffidence and hesitance;
Far-flung revelries of reveries in thoughts acquiescently,
Yet a heart searching possibilities with such adamance.
Piercing emotions fleeting through a murky surface,
Lulling the deadened soul with such alluring beguile;
Limerence spurned, suddenly pervading transient abyss,
Denial in persistent negation of emotion's cavil.
Depths of stolen glances seeking truth beyond words,
Waiting for signs of undefined warm requitals.
Beyond observations, I've only seen fjords;
Chilly shoulders and disregarded affectionals.
Force your eyes and heart, my presence descry;
And let's have a dance until twilight and time recedes,
For might've we not a chance again, not even in a scry.
Lest make a foolish heart's wish finally give up and accede.
Despite all eyes looking at us,
Did you ever feel something special?
Mistake my intentions not, I don't desire a fuss.
But I only yearn to figure, if in your heart you've got a lovely fractal.
To depths and beyond, I covet to seek.
The precious brilliance of your cloaked human shades,
Filled with beauty offering silence and meek;
A plausible sanctuary for a soul as it ages and fades.
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 10:27 AM UTC
Vampires
by Michael R. Burch
Vampires are such fragile creatures;
we fear the dark, but the light destroys them . . .
sunlight, or a stake, or a cross—such common things.
Still, late at night, when the bat-like vampire sings,
we heed his voice.
Centuries have taught us:
in shadows danger lurks for those who stray,
and there the vampire bares his yellow fangs
and feels the ancient soul-tormenting pangs.
He has no choice.
We are his prey, plump and fragrant,
and if we pray to avoid him, he prays to find us,
prays to some despotic hooded God
whose benediction is the humid blood
he lusts to taste.
Published by Monumental Moments (Eye Scry Publications), Weirdbook, Gothic Fairy and Raiders’ Digest. Keywords/Tags: vampires, fragile, creatures, stake, cross, dark, darkness, light, bat, bat-like, shadows, fangs, pangs, prey, blood, lust, lusts, red, lips, night, voice, sings, darkness, evil, incarnate, soul, hell, tormented, pale, eyes
Apr 15, 2020
Apr 15, 2020 at 11:32 PM UTC
We sail we sleep we scry by land
We dig a pit beneath the sand
A place to keep the sun at bay
At dark we rise and find our way
With our faithful companion by our side
Put it all on the table and let it ride
Close to the drop-off on our long slide
The land we left becomes a dream
The ghosts we knew, they rise like steam
They leave some trails against the sky
All but invisible to the eye
With our faithful companion by our side
Put it all on the table and let it ride
Close to the drop-off on our long slide
Call off the search party,
Let mourners wail by the shore
Point to the spot where our ship disappeared
We're not coming home any more
Should you succeed and breach the coast
You tell your friends you've seen a ghost
You tell them all there's nothing here worth dying for
You leave it there
With our faithful companion by our side
Put it all on the table and let it ride
Close to the drop-off on our long slide
Nov 12, 2020
Nov 12, 2020 at 1:33 AM UTC
i pick up the instrument
cold but not aloof
angle and roll my wrist
watching one thin voltage of line
zip up and down
from tapered metallic crown
to broad black foot
glint of bald brilliance
swimmingly alone
one singular streak so very true to itself
reacting to this act
uncut
struck
am i
by the lean careen
i am unstuck
agreeing to its scheme
exact
cupped
i fashion myself
written down
code scrolling upon my being
informing conduct
with form of fury
it glows with obligation
it knows no theory
i do not try
i let it scry
history's sloughed golden bones
hover above vision's groan
i slip it in the inbetween
wings shook violent
no longer lame
ferocity of aha gained
two saturated pools
consent and
circle the hurt drain
only hue of heal of remains
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 4:13 PM UTC
You are an aura; iridescent,
aglow with elemental purity.
Aether is your kingdom;
it’s subjects are the mists!
You are the day; bright,
possessive in your surroundings!
The prism is your charm;
it’s colors a decorative chain.
You are the night; mystifying,
obscure tempest of shadow.
The moon is your crystal ball;
you scry using the stars!
You are the seasons; ever-changing,
abundant, frail, and demanding.
The spring is your gift;
the winter is our atonement.
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 3:25 PM UTC
vines on the stone
And you are Here
staring into future mirrors
and pebbles on the path
pass and scatter
grooves run through the sand
and under your feet they
are soft.
so choose now, Fierce One. and
hold yourself aloft.
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 10:33 AM UTC
"I mean we were destined to fail, I've read every card in the deck, scry'd every crystal in the store. Looked for meanings in the Stars, the tea, the cracks in the pavement. Fishbones, wishbones, my palms and the swirls at the back of my eyelids. Can't you see?"
"I see. The magpies came in two's."
"Exactly, there's happiness somewhere."
"Just not here."
"Yes. Just not here."
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 6:59 AM UTC
Imprisoned clouds, waiting to fly,
Held back by a willowed, sandy bank:
The river, green and clear as an eye.
Its silent depths enticed us to pry.
Into the liquid dungeon we slank,
Imprisoned clouds, waiting to fly.
There we discovered we could scry,
And so greedily we drank
The river, green and clear as an eye.
Our brains ceased to electrify,
Souls fusing with those dank
Imprisoned clouds, waiting to fly.
Now bloated, white, we putrefy,
For we could not outflank
The river, green and clear as an eye.
Deliverer of fate we can’t defy,
But for our new life we thank
Imprisoned clouds, waiting to fly:
The river, green and clear as an eye.
Sep 3, 2024
Sep 3, 2024 at 6:21 PM UTC
i am the canary
in the binary
singing bars hard
distal phalanges
tap the app
till these trills mean something
the oolong tea leaves
in the bottom of the witch's teacup
told me doom and bloom
was nigh
as ****
her words quavered
like dead grass clippings falling up
into the discerning violet scry
Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 7:15 PM UTC
Hear the heart cry
**** the lungs dry
I give you time
I give you sweat & blood
I give you devotion
I give you love
In offer
Bite the lip numb
Make me succumb
I give you time
I give you sweat & blood
I give you devotion
I give you love
In offer
Angels of envy
Give sacrifice
While I admire
The view from here
In quiet night
In shapeless shadow
I scry & chant
The view from here hurts.
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 9:31 PM UTC
The most bitter
A bad tasting fruit
Too rare and rich
Unholy and otherworldly
Grows beneath a toxic soil
Lives at the heart of thorns
Bathes in the rays of a black sun
Drinks the bloods of the fallen ones
Comes from nowhere
Serves no purpose
Exists solely to defy the unwritten rules
Exists only to scry the departed souls
A peak into the void that is unseeable
Eaten by those depraved and miserable
The truth of the world is hidden in its seeds
Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 12:12 PM UTC
The first time you opened up to me
it was through your endless,
sapphire eyes.
Before that glance, I was
sure you weren't interested.
After that glance, I found
a new room built in my heart.
A room decorated in the deep,
ocean blue of your eyes.
Since that first glance
I’ve found myself searching,
craving, your thoughts.
So far I’ve found these three
things in your eyes.
Our first glance I saw a shy,
demure woman but,
one who finds interests in the
small forgotten places, the mysteries.
A woman who wishes few people
to see the jewels she hides inside.
A woman who lets her gaze slide,
not wanting contact--
but asking for connections,
Daring others to
knowingly take a leap
Into boundless azure eyes
that scry a magnanimous
future shrouded in lashes.
I want to call out!
"I see you. I see your true face,
individualistic and beautiful."
I recognize pieces of you and I
answer your call with pieces of
myself.
Our second glance was
the ocean at night
under a full Moon--
bright with emotion and lust.
You, an Aphrodite of the sea,
your body covered in
seafoam and pearls.
You, An Erato whose story
holds men and women
enraptured.
You reach out through those
bedazzling eyes with endearment,
and a promise of such ecstasy
as to turn Ovid's quill from his paper.
I find myself overcome with the
want to dive into your azure oceans,
to steal that treasure in your depths
For myself.
Our last glace was infinity--
the intensity of the sun at its zenith.
You, an Artemis, bow drawn,
Breast exposed, in the heat of the hunt.
Your protections triggered, your eyes
alight-- their color that of the dawning
Sky, cloudless, at the vernal equinox.
Pride and confidence, strength
and courage, well up and come to bear
against an ill-prepared stygian force
who has not an inkling of its
Thrull fate.
I want to know all the pieces of you.
I want to explore your substance.
I want to lie, entwined, naked, within you
and encompassed by you--
holding your gaze searching
into each other. Our bodies rocking,
sweaty--souls dowsing each other
finding pieces that fit and speaking
without words.
I want to know...
I want you...
Oct 2, 2020
Oct 2, 2020 at 10:52 AM UTC
inscrutable mountain buddha
you have buried potent seeds
of your passion
in my heart's quivering
wet petals
red robed monks
carry my spirit on
a celestial palanquin
down a strange river
singing bowls, mist
and the flute's oblong scry
silently my Soul
chants your
name
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 10:23 PM UTC
Cosmic Ball
Dressed in a suit of pinstripe stars,
He’s discussed war and played chess with Mars,
Far, in foreign solar systems,
He chuckles with their planetary distortion,
He’s gambled for the diamonds of Neptune,
Bowled infinite starlit lanes with Jupiter,
Witnessed sacred scry’s and change from Saturn,
Witnessed lies, severed ties,
Much he has seen, he who walks starlit skies,
Martini’s of primordial soup,
With a scoop of star,
Shared in lieu of chaos, with Venus,
Knocking back a few, so far,
He’s raced Mercury around the sun,
Every lap done, feeling victory, whether he’s lost or won, praises they sung, harmony rung,
He’s sat on the surface of Sol, sunglasses dawned,
Other then growth and to learn he has no defined goal,
Just playing a role,
Breaking energetic chains,
And immortal bars,
He slow dances with a myriad of stars,
Celestial bodies of divine will, power, grace,
Orbiting around him in suits, silk, suede nylon and lace,
All dancing to a distant interstellar song,
A long distant echo of light,
A throng of stars creating the constellations mighty heights,
A universe locked in constant cosmic push and pull,
Never empty, never full,
He reflects, riding the back of a wild cosmic bull,
Riding back to mother, back to varied perspectives of what is true,
Back to a planet of green and blue,
Till the next invitation come queue,
To another night in primordial stew of sights and seeings,
Another quaint Ball with fantastic cosmic beings..
May 8, 2019
May 8, 2019 at 9:12 PM UTC
I hear the music of the night, and as the angels begin to sigh
the last ribbons of light fall loose across my path
God , vigilant illusionist of all times
as you scry the moon for me tonight, the stars
align themselves, and the Universe thrums in solvent time;
Dios, incarnate flash and glimmer of my soul,
legionnaire of all mankind, you draw me to your heaven
as if I were a mere reflection of the stars I see tonight.
Mar 10, 2021
Mar 10, 2021 at 7:09 PM UTC
Who were you
when all their affections' malingering
mirrored only actor's guild
guide of the sly guise
while you were as open as the skies
which you scry for them
in joyous paints of hopeful hues
intermingling laughter
assumed them to be true...
Who were you?
when their packs of wolves
with sheepish fondnesses
belied fangs of cold intentions
while you were as open as the skies
out numbered and made pre-occupied
a carcass kept unmentioned
a stolen name
a life without action...
Who were you
then
is who i was now...
the patina on a crown
still as true as the gold beneath
a stronger heart
from the break now beats
But will no one come walk with me?
(none who lie and steal your name)
better yet to learn from grace
kept true
and kept face with my faith
brutal and honest
inner war with hate
but how slowly on my heart
this impasse attends
how like a fish that craves to breathe again
of such cold seas
to not depend...
who were they to play pretend?
and this is where my concern
now ends...
question unanswered and
vacant.
--------------
*Oh how slowly on my heart
this impasse attends*
*How like Atlantis lost in the deep
crave to breathe again
of such cold seas to not depend
Oh heart of my soul ascend!
In love we live again!*
*(Reclaim all of our heavens hence
patience of my goddess' kiss
reminds all time forever since arrives
All is One is Light
mother / father of the infinite
let me be your sacrifice)
Goddess how I love thee*
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 4:54 PM UTC
it is the little things
that consume me...
the daily minutea
that others miss...
or deem discardable.
it is these.....
small moments
i am drawn to..
that.. i focus on......
as the big picture sails by
piccolo thoughts
and lilliputian dreams...
.... engage me.
encouraging me to ..
flights of fancy....
expansive in expression...
....snatches of conversation
half finished gestures.....
are bread and butter
.... sustaining me.
...tiny bits of tree twiglet,
when they grow...
what stories could they tell.
a christmas stamp stuck to the
cement pavement...
i would hate to pay
the postage on sending that package.
always...and always
in the back of my mind....
the sea....
full of teeming....
tiny floaty things for me...
to inadeaquately... describe
and love... i write love well....
then there are....
.... the familys forgotten moments
...gathered by my quill
we..... as poets... are life's truest horder's .....inscribing life on sky and tree.....
we see and hold....
....and feel and scry.
the minikens... of all .....mankind
with little.. splot, spotches..? of inkspots ..joined to form a line.
of words to open hearts...
..and free encumbered mind
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 4:23 PM UTC
Darkened sky
Shy from dormit sleep
Stark intruding flies
Scry fire and flame
Burnt muscle
Broken empire
One glass admires
And opals rain
Where fire is reality
And water is danger
Where fire is lava
And water is a tsunami
Turning the toils of war
Jun 6, 2021
Jun 6, 2021 at 7:24 PM UTC
Like Angels, Winged
by Michael R. Burch
Like angels—winged,
shimmering, misunderstood—
they flit beyond our understanding
being neither evil, nor good.
They are as they are . . .
and we are their lovers, their prey;
they seek us out when the moon is full
and dream of us by day.
Their eyes—hypnotic, alluring—
trap ours with their strange appeal;
drawn like moths to flame, we gather . . .
to see, to touch, to feel.
And in their arms, enchanted,
we feel their lips young/old,
and with their gorging kisses—
we warm them, growing cold.
Published by Monumental Moments (Eye Scry Publications), Poetry Life & Times, Behance, Razor Sharp and Dracula & His Kin. Keywords/Tags: vampires, angels, winged, wings, flit, flitting, evil, good, lovers, prey, night, day, moths, flame, appeal, attraction, kisses, warm, cold
Mar 27, 2020
Mar 27, 2020 at 5:39 AM UTC
Across divides
Peering eyes scry
for places left to hide
and realize that simple minds
of men in mines
could be her spies.
Across divides,
tearing skies cry
like bolts within the night.
Fireflies coalesce
in rivers of molten light.
On the path of least resistance,
magic flows and reunites
in such a pattern,
such a vision,
to witness is to invite.
Across divides slumbers ice.
Peaceful winter's grasp: a vice.
Sister to the frigid,
Magic hunts for winter's light
While princes trap rabbits,
And marvel at sunlight.
Across divides,
princes realize
that the morning has advanced,
and start heading back inside.
A monster wakes from sleep,
rousing milky, blackened eyes.
It cries at its own horror:
Tears that never dry.
It makes its way into the day
wearing death as a disguise.
Across divides.
Nov 2, 2017
Nov 2, 2017 at 1:35 AM UTC