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Fantail feathers, of a hazy, 'yellow-orangish-moon'…

Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Lantern
Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Lantern
Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Lantern

Skeleton-scythes, thorny-stars, swaying in the swoon,

Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Lantern
Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Lantern
Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Lantern

Fire-pits and witches brew and cauldron’s smoking tricks?

Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Lantern
Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Lantern
Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Lantern

Little dwarves and wolves and serpents crawling; leftover people bits,

Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Lantern
Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Lantern
Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Lantern

Trumpets hailing arrival, of Pale Rider, can you hear his tune?
Fantail feathers strain the sight of harvest-yellow moon,
Skeletons, fire-pits, witches, cauldrons and Old Nix,
Animals of evil’s calling, tricker-treaters; Hallow’s Eve and ****** grit!

Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Lantern
Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Lantern
Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Lantern

Pray to Sáeta, Satá, Saturn…

Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Lantern
Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Lantern
Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Jack-O’ Lantern
Children's poem. "Sa/Sae," was the root word in Sumerian for black. Saturn in fact is, "Sah,"-Sumerian "Tournos," -Greek which means the, " turning/rotating black." Anything found in the night time sky became associated with the god of this blackness; The Black God. Constellations became part of his narrative each one being an aspect of his nature or part of his attire or weaponry or something he first created. Even the eyes of/in his wings. Jack O Lanterns are used to ward off his legion of evil spirits.
vinny Jan 2014
Love can be scary
It can bring someone up
Can make them weary
Can make someone wanna throw up

It's a dagger that cannot be seen
A whip that cannot be heard
Amazing but also mean
It can shoot you down like a bird

The worst is when it doesn't go two ways
The pain is incomparable
Your heart's in a blaze
She makes you feel so unstable

Hiding the pain
Behind a bright smile
You've gone insane
This scar's going to last a while

It is the most ******* up form of paradox
The most confusing form of emotion
Tricker than a cunning fox
The weight of your sorrow feels more than a ton

But you're not the only one
To fall victim to the dove
Many others are done
We've all fallen under this fatal spell called love.
Cyclone Dec 2019
I'm shy to shiver, cry me a river, but deliver my silver, it was my company shunning me in the month we had slithered, this Earth will quiver, but I bicker to eliminate quicker, though it retaliates by gravitating traps till I'm sicker, so it gets richer, I picture me alone with a hitcher, I wish to ditch her, never kiss her, glitch, stitch and then ***** her, but who's the tricker?, my scripts or just the fact that she's thicker with all my flickers, predictable, this chick is just slicker.

— The End —