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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.
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
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
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.
Poet as PainterThe world
Your dusty palette,
Your muddied paintbrush:
The pristine slate
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
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
BoyfriendI thought you were good.
You WERE good.
You played with my hair.
You held me when I cried.
You were a gentleman.
You made me laugh.
You kissed me.
You loved me.
I loved you.
It was then that I learned the truth.
The dirty, rotten, stinking truth.
You played with her hair.
You kissed her.
You loved her.
You made her laugh.
I saw you – don’t you dare deny it.
I saw you giving her that love.
That same love you gave me.
I break up with you.
You don’t even seem to care.
Did you ever love me at all?
Or was it only ever her?
Much later, you’ll realize what a mistake you made.
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
untitledGold abundant at your feet,
Heart ripe and pumping on your sleeve,
And eternal admiration;
To say happiness has evaded you
Would be asylum-esque lunacy
For you have nothing to lose,
Fate is on your side,
The odds are in your favor infinitely
Do not waste the gift you’ve received
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.
Boredom Makes Kinky Dull I know not how long
Weve been adrift on this sea
It seems like its been an eternity
Since I have met with Gaia
And spoke of simple things
As the vine speaks of the earth
In which it has been planted.
Oh! What I would give
To meet her flesh once more!
If I didnt know Greek mythology,
I would be so pissed at you right now.
Oh do forgive me flesh-ling,
My mind does begin to wander.
Would you two be quiet?
Im trying to salvage my salt-water recordings!
I dont get why
You need them anyways K.
Sometimes when a girl gets very lonely-
Kinkiness Found Among WavesIn all of this green earth,
I have never come across
Such a peculiar creature
As I came across a day ago.
While it should have lived
Under the tides of Poseidon's
It lived instead
Between a man's thighs.
"Are you still whining
Lucas had to have crabs
That matched his colossal
I am not that disease ridden!
Zeus was cleaner than you are.
I still am a little pissed
That you didn't warn me about
The crab the size of my face
Scrambling over my ass Kendra.
"I was just recording
For the eventual hilarity.
You would have done the same
If it had happened to me
Dr Ladysounds and Mr WittyBearThere once was a lady
Who made me laugh
So hard and giggle like man
Who was high on pills.
She was bitten by a radioactive
Dandelion and was called
Dr. Lady Sounds,
Shes a ginger
Who doesnt trust the moon
That watches as you undress.
She gets high off of jam
And sings a little off-key.
But she is the funniest girl
I have seen.
She is bouncy and makes no sense
But thats alright with me.
I wish I could meet her some day
Just so we can talk about
Things no one else gets.
Ryan and Ames will shake their heads
But Shelley and me
Well swoon at t
UK Beware Kinky Ones Are NearIf youre going to say something,
You might as well say it.
I have not intention
Of making any snide remarks.
Its written all over your face
Are you video-taping me
Holding a bag of ice to my butt?
Would you believe me
I f I said no?
Just get that thing off my behind!
Ruin my fun why dont ya?
If my hindquarters did not feel
Like a butcher had severed the bone
And kept me alive whilst doing so,
If I didnt need this one hand
To hold this bag of frozen water
To sooth the pain,
You would be so dead.
You wouldnt kill me!
Youd be left
Kinky Plus 1 Play In The SnowI really didnt expect
To have to say this,
But your choice sucks.
How does it suck?
Philosophy is for people
Who can control their appetites
Like a priest can hold his liquor.
It is not for fun,
It is not for merriment,
It is not for teens.
I really dont understand
How you could choose Russia?
All there is is cold and philosophers!
Maybe Im a little saddle sore.
I cannot be expected
To gallop across the globe,
To ignore these bruises
So lovingly placed,
To sing happily
When I am in pain!
How can such a thing be possible?
I rather like this place.
Pure in Sinful Practice"Bite me,"
She whispered in darkest night.
Her skin smelled of jasmine
And she looked like a whore
In the light.
Her innocence was long gone,
And her chasity long passed.
Her core was corrupt
Since her first little ance
With a John down the way.
At the age of fifteen,
She knew not what to say.
Yet her blood was still sweet.
As ten summer apples
Plucked fresh from the tree,
As a cherry red
Without a hardened pit,
As a yong girl's
Lips more pure
Her blood was sweet.
The color removed gone
From her made-up face
Left her bruised corpse
Beautiful in lace.
Her dead smile was kind
As I drank her last drops
Christian's FairgroundsIt's so weird that I find so much more
Comfort when the lights in my house
Are out and all the people have gone to
Dream in their little tiny dream gremlin-suits.
I won't even remember my mother's voice
Years from now, when I'm away and learn
About her horrible accident in the kitchen.
I won't even remember all the friends I hugged
So close to me when I told them goodbye, chao.
I will hold you know, smell you, try to hold on
But then you're gone, and I don't recall a thing.
All the carnies are home in their beard tanglings
And little tiny muscle-suits, and the ferris wheel
Is no longer lit up in our eyes. It's a carnival that
PREY NO MOREPREY NO MORE
Rope dug into Patrick’s wrists as he struggled to free his hands. His hot, damp breath washed over his face, trapped by the fabric sack secured over his head.
A floorboard creaked. Patrick froze, his back rigid against the chair, and strained his ears. Another creak.
“Hello?” he called.
The sound of swishing fabric.
“Who’s there? Where am I? Why’d you bring me here?” Blurred memories swam through his mind: drinking at the bar; stumbling home; a shadow sweeping out from an alley.
Fingers grasped his chin and jerked his head upward. “Hush.” A woman’s voice.
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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