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Under a Witches SkyAnd lo there he said: "I am darkness rising"
— ‘an apparition bleeding into a dreaming sky
Distilled in the timbre of windswept voices,
black feathers enchant earth in fevered-song
Magick ebbs & shimmers thru earthen veins,
seething like a migration of hungry wolves
Silvery eyes peer, drinking the ether of souls;
watching the spirit world fold into the mists
And where Shadows and Witches conjure,
— myriad talons beshrew Winter’s prayer
For eons I hath wandered in forgotten lore
— a sleep walker thru ash & fire, hunting ..
Beneath Moon solemn and drifting,
I covet thy ghostly figure velvet, undressing
The Man and the MoonHer mouth corners hung themselves
and I began to wonder if that was the death of them.
A simple, quiet death;
without broken fingernails lining the walls
with the stripes of a despairing end.
I began to ache with the questioning in my heart
with the echoes reverberating in my capillaries
of her face scorching sunshine in her smile
right before it crumpled
and nothing was left but a frowning moon
set firm in its resignation to an upcoming eclipse.
Dandelion QueenI dream of the ocean;
that paper-thin line where
the current swallows the stars
and the water churns violet
(you tell me to be
dandelion queen, we've
heard all these words before)
I will sleep heavy
and wake a few hours before dawn,
only to forget my name
my wave-weathered heart will cry,
I will cry (my biggest fear
is drowning in too many
of my own weighted words
you tell me to be
so I can hear the world breathe)
I want to go home
SpeakeasyI can feel you like a phantom,
sensation without touch,
like breath in winter
or a misty mountain morning
that stays with me
until the stars fall in evening.
Your eyes contain the secrets
your lips would dare to betray,
but your body tells the story
and I am trying
to read between the lines
of your paperback smiles.
A grazing touch, a covert glance,
the memories remain
as skin grows warm and red
beneath lying fingertips
that claim incidental contact
a thousand times a day.
it's not the kind of thing we say
when we are speaking
without talking and feeling
and thinking without knowing...
all of the things
Overgrown ColorsRed like blood on a rose.
White like bone and stars.
Black like reclusiveness.
Green like dead air.
Orange like the savage instinct.
Purity like a god's heart.
Red like thawing hatred.
White like a frozen, severe cry.
Black like the night's deprived shadows.
Green like the wind in the grass.
Orange like the light in the shadows.
Purity like the sun rising.
So discharging through the moon in a wheeze is like luminous white, dispersed red.
We Can't Be Together.Every kiss you plant on my lips,
Takes a little bit of my soul away.
You're stealing the passion,
You're invading my heart,
And killing what emotion I've left untouched.
I can't love you.
I've tried to before,
Oh my god,
Have I tried.
Tried to unlock the doors to myself,
Tried to open up,
And let you in.
But as soon as I took one look,
Negativity took it's opportunity,
And struck the hot iron I'd been molding.
Every word you mutter
My knees falter under
You're killing me
You're my kryptonite
I'm your paradise
But in this odd peace that seems to be approaching
I can't find happiness.
We aren't meant to be together
WindowsHere am I, repeated,
and beyond waits everything
but everything is more
than I can bear.
I am not built for altitude
nor looking far afield;
groves and granite-sided mountains
stop my gaze
like rest for every tired wing;
a cover in the coldest time
snugged up beneath my chin.
Windows nothing more,
but safe lies there behind them
as the chambered hours pass;
safe sleeps there behind them
on the soft side of the glass.
PocketLeftover religion in the pocket
Of my trenchcoat
A key that unlocks nothing
A penny, a scrap of paper
With half of your name
Written in black ink
A song that is usually in my head
In the shriveled carcass
Of a long-dead dream
In the pocket
Of my trenchcoat
With the lint
He doesn't write poetry anymore.He doesn’t write poetry anymore,
even if he still collects it, reads it, saves it, treasures
faded verses from his wife the way connoisseurs
savor vinyl over metallic rainbows on disc.
I don’t mind not knowing, but I can’t stand not asking.
The record needle hits the groove wrong;
he stumbles over words that aren’t there,
rummaging for an answer he doesn’t really have.
He doesn’t write poetry anymore
and his confusion is strangely endearing.
But there’s a lyricism to his words that I love,
poetic lines inserted between the daily grind
of character names and who said what;
voiceless boys in white a
Dry Spell I am immobilized by time.
by the idea that it is somehow slipping,
through the cracks of
my fingers and high
above my head.
I am terrified by the incessant notion
that no combination of thoughts,
could possibly satiate it.
I realize only now that it can never be filled:
all which is tossed into it is swallowed in haste
that it dissolves into non-being.
I find that I am caught within its furrows
much like the words it devo
the scars on your shouldersthe scars on your shoulders
are braille to me, so that i
can read your skin, so that i
can know you better.
i like to listen to your heartbeat
and how it resounds differently
from mine, just so beautifully
like two songs played in tandem
to harmonise in rounds;
i like to hold your hands
and rub your back
so that maybe my love
can find its way through your pores
and seep into your blood
(never can i find the right words
to tell you just the way you feel to me)
and to think that and how i nearly missed you
makes me miss you more
every minute and mile we spend
i can't sleep with another body
in my bed,
but sleeping without you
with thanks to frosttwo roads diverged in a soulless dawn
and you pull over,
idling on the shoulder of route 50.
it's a polaroid morning and
the world is as grainy
as your eyes,
and one million miles
is not far enough.
it plays back, filmstrip,
blurred along the length of
and here you are:
facing a choice between
this loosejointed, hollowbodied
this is what
You Don't Know ItYou don't know it, but you kept me sane
I nearly went over the edge
With a knife in one hand and a gun in the other
But you grabbed me
Pulled me back on my own two feet
Emptied my hands
And when you realized that I couldn't stand on my own
You hugged me
Like a mother would do for her child
Like a friend would do for, dare I say, another friend
You don't know it, but when you saved me
I felt free
I felt wanted
I felt needed
I felt, dare I say, loved
You don't know it, but when you showed me kindness
I fell in love
In love with your kindness
That same sweet kindness you saved me with
It felt like I found a new home
One that I could be, dare
Pull Her Hair/Stare At The StarsThe ghosts have crashed their ship
on the other side of town,
you can see it from the second floor
all the way over here.
You can see the white clouds
rising from the wreck
and a nova of heat, a big bright
nova of warmth pulling the moths and wolves
out from the woods (with their noses up and searching).
You can smell the yearning like bees
leaving the hive, like the grizzly brown bears
on the jagged white mountains (concrete and imposing).
They call it fear,
but I see these ghosts
scrambling up into the sky
and I like to think it's
something different entirely.
A sister is like a soul mate;
Someone who is always there
to guide me through fate.
A sister is,
a part of childhood that I cannot erase;
A sister like you,
is one that I would never replace
because you always know how to
put a smile on my face.
I know I can depend on you
to always be there for me;
This is one hundred percent guaranteed!
I've had great memories with you
in the past;
and I hope there are many more
in the future.
Questionable SanityNo... This can't be.
Don't tell me I don't know what you mean!
YES I KNOW THAT I'M YELLING!
But, that wasn't what we were talking about.
I... remember. I know it's real-
I know that you loved me once upon a time.
Once upon a time in a land near away
A princess (such beauty) loved a monster (how fey).
A beast and a brigand, a liar and cheat.
The foulest of faces with a heart wishing to beat-
To beat for its lover, the focus of life.
"I'll love you forever and ever and past."
These tears you see falling...
They are your cross to bear. To hold and to carry-
None can take this from you.
Yet you seek and you search and you stay by
Melting TundraI remember the days, those days you weren't in my heart-
A tundra, frozen desert, devoid of my hopes and dreams.
Where are those days, passed from my sight-no more.
But the sun's face shows in your smile-the glow;
How much you do, you may never know.
Suddenly this heart, the soul left to rot and freeze over
I lift up mine eyes-soot, grime, it clears away in your brilliance.
The tundra, it melts. So sundry, it inspires.
Where have gone the days you were absent?
I'm spent, unbent, I can see the sun of your smile.
It takes away the breath in my chest-and yet
You insist this melting tundra is not your doing.
Yellow HighlighterCandide speaks of "physics", Dostoyevski of labor camps
But every time I read these texts, my eyes seem drawn away
Hilights of yellow, pink and of blue.
Notes in the margins, important phrases underlined
No wonder I can't seem to read these things
They may as well be lights, a shining glare
That catches my eye in the middle of conversation
A condensation of colored sensation blurring against my eyes.
Who would have sold this text as "used", more like massacred
But I go on, through Blake's poems in green-damn these colored lines.
Promptless in SeattleThe coffee here is nice, it's raining though.
My notebook and pen, constant friends.
The drizzling is enjoyable, this north pacific wind.
But I can't think of anything to write about-
I wish I could figure this out.
My editor, no help there-no guiding hand
"Just do what you want, it's all up to you."
But, Seattle is nice. Well, nice enough at least.
There's still nothing to write about-
and my deadline just keeps creeping.
Oceanic AvenueRoaring waves with loving embrace,
Come and take me away.
Find me and take me, I need this to matter.
Wash away these sins.
These avenues, less traveled,
Follow the ocean's call.
I'm coming, please wait- you'll never know
How much this matters.
The scene of the obscene you call friend-
Past lover, once cuddler, now left alone.
So traipse along this oceanic avenue
And come upon my prostrate form-
... finally released from my sorrows.
Wilting LoveOn the edge of the precipice I linger,
plucking away at the petals of memories.
Buds I believed would bloom,
blossoms I never received.
Why do you stand here, you may ask.
Surely you must know that there are others.
A kind word akin to sonnet, doting.
These are the tools of your trade.
Why choose, you entreat, to be alone?
Because I desire misery and disdain.
You're wonderful, don't you realize?
No, but who are you to tell me this?
Know that I am alone because I require
something more than wilting petals.
Understand that I love those who
should never think to love me.
OverflowPlease take your part
I wish to go
Fill this mess
I mean to drown
This you should know
Turn the tap
Just make it slow
Visions of love
Come through the glow
Of uncondoned sins
Pure spite and sorrow
I wish to be happy
But that isn't so
I only need misery
Reap what I sew
Now fill me with sadness
Lungs brimmed long ago
So leave me with hate
Please turn back and go
...I don't want you to see what I've become.
She decided a young woman like her had no business being imperfect. Impurities had to be expelled from her life, no matter the cost. A universal remover promised to be her savior. It lived up to its commercials, doing away with the stains that disgraced her floor and some of the walls.
Would domestic hygiene free her from being flawed? Doubtful. This product guaranteed to exterminate any kind of filth. Could it go beyond the material things? She rubbed the substance on her forehead, and conjured as many negative thoughts as possible. They were recalled, only to vanish from memory a second after.
Satisfied? Not quite. Even the good recollect
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`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More