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Gerry James Aug 2018
I just sit and gaze,
And watch my walls burn in a blaze,
As I become captive to her eyes,
I see my darkest dreams

But I take a glance
In thought that I have a fleeting chance
Of escaping from her,
Not yet, it seems.

I fall to my knees
And I utter my pleas,
But she just smiles,
In the darkness, her smile gleams.

My demons scream and yell,
But it's no use,
Coz I’m under her spell.
This is crazy man what's going on? I ain't ever felt this way before
Jesse stillwater May 2018


I wish I were the Moon
Bequeathing an enchanting night
A mystical celestial sphere
Bewitching lover’s hearts


A practical magic spell
C a s t
In a lonely hollow shell
      An ardent musical echo ―
Released in an irrepressible
Impassioned moan
A twilight sigh
escaping in untamed
Blissful breath


A Sky without Moonbeams
Is like a world without song
It takes a certain darkness
To heed a Sky full of Stars alone


I wish I were Moonstruck
A fate I crave to behold
Waxing and Waning
Rising ― Changing
A distant ocean’s ebbing tide


A captivating enchantment
In the twilight beauty
Of your eyes
Dreaming of drowning
Deep within
Their deepest water’s Wild


I don't want to wake up
    and become ―
More fading
Barefoot traces left behind
On some faded memory's
Deserted shore


Right now is all
There ever is ―
and
I wish I were
The Moon tonight



Jesse Stillwater ... May  2018
The moon peeking through the trees to the east of the window as I lay awake last night at 3 am ... it was simply mesmerizing ― kidnapping illusive sleep, making a daydream out of a wistful night dream
ottaross Aug 2015
"Lost love spell caster voodoo spells"
The spammy text-posts read
Let's write them off, as so much bunk
That nobody would heed.

"Love marriage specialist
in Ahmedabad" said another
Finally you could be betrothed
And satisfy your mother!

Voodoo spells and marriage vows
For only a few rupees,
The challenges of life, all quickly solved,
With very modest fees.
Fora  few days the HelloPoetry site was over run with spam poems all saying the same awkward phrases, as featured in this piece. Thought it would be fun fodder for a poem.
RBWhite Mar 4
What did you do to me?
I can't sleep for days and nights,
Always ready to take a fight and leave no lights,
What have you done now?
That everything I think about is your lips taking mine,
Your Aura is consuming my soul and everything at all,
And it is the fog surrounding your hair that spills a scent greater than Heaven and Hell,
Is your own kind of spell,
Flying all over my skin,
And I claim such a sorcerer to end my grief,
I can't no longer eat and live,
Have mercy of a wanderer of seas,
Drowning in a pool of memories and letters,
Always trying to leave off shore,
Where I can rest for the little time I have left on my own.
This poem belongs to my BLACKXPOETRY series.
Jim Musics Jun 18
I'm inclined to dance
But the peace of the moonlit
Should not be disturbed
Inspired by Eloisa's "Under the Spell"
Thank you !
I wished for you
excessively.
  greedily.
     immeasurably.
I craved you for days on end
and finally,
   finally.
I got to see the way
your lips form around the precipice
   of my name
I felt your hand on my waist
as your touch provokes every minute nerve  
      in my body
I drowned myself in the  
   depth of your eyes
that glisten with wonder as you    
      decipher
the spell you've cast upon me
and how it speaks volumes of every
   fairytale ever made
and I have had a taste of all of this
    I've had you
    right within my breadth,
just until the warmth
    of the rising sun
  kissed my eyelids awake,
like the tender whisper of the    
       cosmos
or the discordant bellowing
of the void
   as it reminds me:
      You are unattainable.
Right then again I was able to  
   comprehend
that you will remain an illusion to me
      until our paths cross once more
   and in that moment,
nothing will be capable of surpassing
      the bewitchment
   the resplendence
the luminance
of the mere reality that is you
This is actually the one I'm most proud of.
Commuter Poet Oct 2016
Hossty mogarty
Fistral brist
Ay sluggery bithlle bat
Tinkletun misk

Foraven mo groggle
Terappitur drast
In camperidge burbow
Ill wungledon masst

Ee burbinger hoddle
Yie tungldown gossts
Am risstle oopsingen
Ter platiffer hoast

En dungledoon oppers
Woa bloaten ett ghabb
Mer tickerrn billborron
Furen dishten lab
A Halloween spell to be recited on this ghostly day
31st October 2016
The first new star flashed waves of blue tonight ,
securing my belief in the afterlife
A grove of ferns lit my imagination
For I became a shipwrecked captain -
that stumbled upon an island nation
Exploring the deep jungle without machete ,
potable water nor compass
Knee deep in mangrove forest
Tropical winds whispered and moaned
A lean-to of fronds became my maritime home
In the presence of a million stars
An army of sand ***** paraded before -
their newfound master from near and afar
Crashing waves lulled a poor sailor to rest
The whispers of Poseidon
A dream about a lookout in the crows nest
Counting orbs in the tail of the Milky Way-
with visions of mermaids , ghost ships and rogue waves
Copyright July 2018 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Lash Jun 20
he who is content
is rich.
only good intent,
i'm witch.
i wish on stars and crystals,
high pitched
like whistles.
brushing through the ripples
like bristles.
-
wavy,
90s baby,
i say mad
and you say crazy,
i say maybe.
maybe im close.
lets have a toast
to the good times
to the signs,
to the message clearly written
right in between the lines,
saying everything is first to seek
and then to find.
-
its all divine,
its all aligned,
the all is mind.
the world is mine.
Still Crazy Jun 24
drrry spells

~for the r in all of us~

a normanative condition, a kitchen condiment, an un-relished
I’m-in-a-pickle relish, when there in no hot **** dogged doggedly poem perspiration in the fridge or anywhere to be found; nothing but a top sliced bun, ah, plain buns, old stale dog ones is all ya got left for dinner, during one of them there drrry spells that
no blonde tanned unweathered weatherperson ever
forecast correctly

Normanative? Oh yeah.

the tyranny of the white, white bread, the white, whittle ya down screen, couture-cold water from tap direct, neck bent, jugged to try and fail to wash down that lumpen ball of dog fur brain drain clog that’s backing up the paper words, in a stomach churning brine holding you back from reaching the top of the Mt. Everest,

rite Normanative?

Normanative.Oh yeah. Son of Norma and Normally.
It’s in the bibell, look it up!

she-he is my pooka, (nope, uh-uh, look it up) a six foot tall rabbit,
climbing up my brain stem, strategically strangling my words like
a flea killer collar round my neck, one that actually visually works,
my flea bit words fall to the floor, to live with the dust mites descendants of the ole south, drafts and rejection letters, all whose blessed memory may never die etc. etc.

that was the condition of my normanative condition when I dropped in (yup, look it up),

Norman sarcastically asking, how’s the weather up there,
any rain in that-northern-brain, down here it’s as dry as an southern old dog porch panting in Jewlie, breathiny out summer hottie poems, write out like it’s crazy going out of style, oh yeah, forgot
you don’t speak dawg that well.

so I don’t know nothing about your drry spells, just climb into
the hottest hot tub, staying all the summer months if necessary,
reading old poems about busted hearts, old dogs, unrealized loves that can’t be forgot, promises kept that one never made, other curses,
battlefields of yore, sweatin’ out the toxins till r
sends along a new one, rocking my toenails to my disbelieving eyes,
for I’m a mentally patient person,
whose never seen a drrry spell so long, that was not worth
wading thru, waiting for, till something busted out and
another thunderstorm of a literary good one, errr come along

like I said, I’m a mental patient man, still crazy after all these years...
(yup, that too, you could look it up if ya made this far)
Eloisa Jun 18
State of enchantment
Moon dances in a ritual
Solitary me
Tammy M Darby Oct 2017
I did not curse you with the hand of death
The cloak of gloom
The hand of doom
Instead, I cast my spell upon your heart

Forever entangled in turmoil and strife
An unsettled wanting life
Weakening the beats will cease
****** to seek a love
That does not exist
Nor ever will reveal itself
In the call of the morning or the songs of the night

Vengeance comes in many forms
Lying in wait unsated to be called
It befalls the unaware when least expected
The war between mind and soul
Tormenting endless storms

But take courage and cease trembling
I did not curse you with the hand of death
The cloak of doom
Ghosts of the dark
For I have no pity
I cast my spell upon your failing heart

All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby Oct. 17, 2017.

If you are a demon
then send me to Hell
If you are a witch
then take me with your spell

If you are a drug
Then in my vein inject
If you’re a psychosis
Let my life be wrecked

If choosing to stay
Then a price must be paid
Sign a contract in blood
I'm forever your slave

You're heartless and cold
The Devil, you might be
Yours to torture forever
Just don't ever leave
To the deepest of pits
You just take me and throw
From the world I am absent
So far down below
Other people prefer
To Hell travel than know
But for me I'd give all
Please just don't ever go

Thank you CJ for your poetic comment that inspired me to write this additional epilogue  =^)

Written: June 14, 2018
[epilogue written: April 25, 2019]

All rights reserved.
[Amphibrachic Hexameter format]
Poppity's married
To Pimlico Frank.
He's      doing ten
For doing a bank,
Been  in for three
Be out             in two
And poor, poor Poppity
Doesn't know what to do.

She               had an accident
And has one          in the oven,
So she asks                for advice
From the Hammersmith Coven.
A dozen                              calls
To the Crimestoppers' Line
And Frank won't be out
'Til he's ninety-nine.
Ruhee Jun 20
Beneath the sea
& onto my head,
I spell you to be
The Glorious Sunshine ever fed.
Lady Ravenhill Aug 2018
The beauty of this mistress is not in h'r hair
N'r the curveth in h'r figure or the robes yond the lady wears

To reacheth h'r heart follow the path wh're h'r charm resides
H'r true wond'r can beest seen deep within h'r eyes

The vivid reflection of h'r splend'r shines as inn'r light
The scent of h'r natural p'rfume, or h'r soft whisp'rs late at night

The passion of h'r glance and the delicate care yond lady shows
And how ev'ry day, and month, and year thy love f'r h'r only grows
© LadyRavenhill
zero Nov 2017
I dreamt all my dreams away on that first night,
I spent them on you.
Dia,
-Z.xo
KCibot May 19
By
The
Spell
You Never
Stop Binding
Me In Two
But
We
R
In
Love
#us
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