"spellbook" poems
A raggedy old doll,
all ***** and dusty,
lying on the floor of old cabin.
When snuggled at night,
he sat up and sang,
a verse of the spellbook
of Sabians!
“Golden-haired the raven!”
“My heart warmed of her presence,”
“Golden-haired the raven!”
“Her flowering scents so pleasant,”
“Golden-haired the raven!”
“My mind about a treasure,”
“Golden-haired the raven!”
“My fortune is her pleasure,”
“Golden-haired the raven!”
“Lost I am you see?”
“Golden-haired the raven!”
“Sun-ray crowned was she!”
“Golden-haired the raven!”
“Oh golden haired my raven!”
Just before dawn,
he sat up in bed,
to look upon his
new little girl.
Shined-up his button eyes,
and tilted his head…
then snuggled back into her curls.
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 1:39 PM UTC
Good Morning, Miss Natalie
I'm fine, how are you?
A spell of politeness and flattery
Specially written for you.
Holy f*cking **** Alex
If we get caught, we're so *******
Energy unbound, mischief abound
Spells i cast to keep up with you.
I'm fine, don't worry, Mother.
I love you but you must let me write these myself
Silenced lips, secrets and the curse of respect
Wards protecting the fears i shove in the back of my shelf
.
.
.
hey...you...
i missed you today
you press your face,
mumbling, into the palm of my hand
my grimoire begins melting
the spells dripping from where i stand
i caress your cheeks with my thumbs
small circles,
gentle, light
the utter safety of what i can trust to be true
i have no need for spells around you.
Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 11:59 AM UTC
I am all the magic I have ever needed.
I am this thinking, valid creature.
And while not every verse beckons
Itself to be the grestest.
It does desire to be sang.
Magic is poetry, it is the nature of the craft.
Words are cantations whick evoke emotion.
By my bedside, is my own spellbook.
I write whatever I wish to be and it is so.
That truth is as real as you believe it to be.
I bleed my own words, I suffer in their truth.
I become ecstatic, and at peace.
That is my serenity, my sleight of hand.
My magic, my fortune.
Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 6:15 PM UTC
What sorcery do you hold.. Is what I seek to find. How do these enchantments work that have left me bound.
Locked in place, in the warmth of your embrace
In a trance like state, I succumb. Fall to knees that are weak, all senses numb.
On which page of your spellbook can it be found.
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 7:28 AM UTC
UV rays tickle the hair on my skin
The Sun shines on the son of sin
goosebumps tell me lies
as if my emotions were alive
somehow i reside
in a cold happiness its alright
opposites attract is a detraction to reality
maybe ask me later if im happy when i lose my sobriety
lost where only my eyes can see
with hell in my brain
it came to be in such pain
time to be a man
flipflop heres a new plan
could i move forward with you in reverse
time continues on till im in a hearse
but whats worse
is that i created a curse
on a spellbook i found
searching to be bound
in solidarity for clarity
even ****** up the memory
when death doesn't seem like a solution
look towards a new resolution
compromise on my conscience
meet me halfway oh stop this
naivety dictates i stay and wait
intuition remedies a stray straight
paths onward unfolds
as so its been told
Jul 23, 2017
Jul 23, 2017 at 1:09 AM UTC