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This morning I needed a notebook, and spotted one that appeared to be unused. Upon opening the cover, I discovered one lone page occupied by the following poem. Enjoy!

Searching This Mad Confusion

This is my Mabon offering. These lines originally came to me on the nights before and of the full Harvest moon, but sat in a book I’m reading until this evening. Enjoy!

Harvesting the Moon

Shuffle on concrete

Longing crunch of coming days

Chilling cold I crave

 

Leaves brief existence

Short lines and words lost so soon

Nourish the next one

Monsters Will Destroy Themselves

The Architect

She builds her castles not with stones…

They raised her around music,
And it was part of her daily life.
A Talent, she was.
She could sing before speaking,
Write before reading,
Weave before spinning the thread.
“Talents tend to choose their power,”
The doctor told them.
“Soon she’ll pick one and the others
Will be forgotten.”

Not so with her.

She learned to read,
And soon Mother was getting calls.
“Turned the playground into a castle again”
Or
“Burned the classroom with a dragon.”
And there was nothing
Mother could or would do
To stop her little Talent.

Then she began to learn music,
To decipher the tones and notes.
She melodies and lyrics wound through her brain,
And soon the piano teacher was refusing to tutor.
“She changed my living room into a forest glen!”
The answering machine said.
“Find someone else!  I’m through with your Talent!”

Whatever their Princess imagined
Would become real.
They hoped it would stop when she reached womanhood;
That was their only prayer for years.

And so, it seemed
The Talent had settled.
She discovered boys, and girls,
Reality.
There was no need for her to weave
Since she was imagining the world before her.

And not soon after, she was gifted with headphones.
Their Talent had learned how to control her powers,
And life was good.

She learned to play instruments,
More than she could handle,
And through her years she became a musician,
A poet.
Her Talent was welcomed on the stage,
She began to rehearse the images;
Her brain became the projector.

One winter night, a man in black was at a concert.
He listened to her raptly, and enjoyed her movie.
He found her looking at the reflecting pool,
Made her a job offer
She couldn’t refuse.

And now, that wacky little Talent,
Is using her powers
For all the wrong reasons.

Ghost

Deserter

I was looking for a poem to submit and found some more gems hidden online. Enjoy!

Hoops

The Morrigan is my matron goddess, and although I haven’t spent a lot of time in devotion (She comes and goes, but I can always feel Her nearby) I wanted to share this because it’s becoming one of my favorites.

Another Carrion Eater

I’m a Phoenix. I like the symbolism in the burning of the old. I have a certain propensity towards fire, and I feed that inner fire that fuels my mind, body, and soul with all it needs to survive and flourish.

And it is through the image of burning that I express myself, an inward spark that expands outwards, an explosion that creates its own universe.

So this might be more of a photograph in words than a poem.

Super Nova

I’m burning, burning, burning.

I do it all for me.
Let the flames consume what I have inside,
Turn the trash into treasure.
I am the alchemist hard at work;
Such dangerous fumes eroding my mind,
Dancing on a stage and letting you watch.
Striptease.
The more I take off, turn into masterpieces,
The more I authenticate, actualize.
And as the strings I called a top
Snake down my body, my hips and legs,
Pool on the ground,
I scream at myself
“This is mine, for me only.
No one else can share in this feeling,
Absolute freedom, the lessons you taught.
I might be the student, but I will always be the captain of this ship.”
And who cares if you may find it arousing,
Because this is mine, and no one else’s.

I’m burning, burning, burning…

Or maybe I am doing it all just for you.
“Look at me; you know you want this.
I listened to you speak, on the beach,
Before the bed-sheet ocean.
I took what you said, hammered it down,
And I made it this performance.
I am taking what you gave me and using it against you now.
So watch, and let the magick work.”
Striptease.
Stark naked, in all my glory,
I will bring you to your knees.

I’m burning, burning, burning.

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