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Literature Text
I summon stir and call you here
I summon stir and call you here
Like the wind, earth, fire and water
Like the wind, earth, fire and water
I summon like the wind, and call fire here
you earth, stir water
From yon tree, I summon thee
From yon tree, I summon thee
To this cauldron's mystery
To this cauldron's mystery
From mystery this cauldron's yon tree
I summon thee
Do my bidding as I will
Do my bidding as I will
Follow the words of this spell
Follow the words of this spell
Follow my bidding do my will
The words of this spell
Follow this cauldron's mystery, bidding you
from yon tree I summon, do stir and call thee here
as to the wind, water, fire, and earth summon
like the words of this spell
I summon stir and call you here
Like the wind, earth, fire and water
Like the wind, earth, fire and water
I summon like the wind, and call fire here
you earth, stir water
From yon tree, I summon thee
From yon tree, I summon thee
To this cauldron's mystery
To this cauldron's mystery
From mystery this cauldron's yon tree
I summon thee
Do my bidding as I will
Do my bidding as I will
Follow the words of this spell
Follow the words of this spell
Follow my bidding do my will
The words of this spell
Follow this cauldron's mystery, bidding you
from yon tree I summon, do stir and call thee here
as to the wind, water, fire, and earth summon
like the words of this spell
Literature
the future is for gypsies
we are all twenty three point five degrees shy
of even, a people off-kilter and invariably prodigal, timid
as our buffalo. you have a hometown, i say out loud
while driving in it, and you murmur something about murder,
the dusky war over your head. you say those birds don't
even know about the obliquity of the ecliptic, and here
they are, trying to change it with all their weight in the sky.
twenty three point five, you repeat, your mouth around it
gingerly as a psalm, as a lioness with cubs, and we keep driving.
there are sights: a stripped-wire cherry tree, its fragile arms tipped
with ravens, their children unstrung and clinging
Literature
Waltzing with the Devil
In a house, apartment, in a palace pulsing
away from that idle pressure on my nape,
I possess minds which are courtesans: my cured
extremities are waltzing with the devil.
You might think of a sentient rhythm, a drone
sashaying in a cruel intercourse
wearing Venetian masks in mockery of
those gods compelled to eat burgers after caviar:
I love it when your china is spread on toast.
A thought would hover, a buzzing tinnitus
reminds you of a kindly perverted uncle
flagging down a platonic boy, blindfolded
by a riddle of locusts: come Abaddon
in a pitch of flies smothered by Beelzebub.
You would think I am the illegitimate
by-produ
Literature
agonized
When I look at the mirror, I see a woman, with a devil like hair, blood red eyes, shirtless, snow white skin, ice cold face, darkness filling her soul, pain possessing her body, she holds her fist and destroys her reflection, I hear screams of agony, what a piercing sound!! Ground's shaking underneath me; water on my cheeks is it raining??no wait, it's me that's screaming, it's me that's shaking, it's me that's crying.
"I love you! But I abhor you! I have to leave you. I gotta let go!" and he leaves, I keep hearing these words over and over, whenever I hear them my core turns to raging fire, and I scream, and scream, but I cry, and the salt
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Comments43
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Wow... This is powerful stuff. I found this a while ago, and re-reading it still sends chills down my spine.
I have never cared much for poetry, in almost any form. It's not that I don't like it, I just never really got into it. But recently, I've found a few things like this, most of it Native American.
And man, it's scary how deeply they resonate in me.
Very well done.
I have never cared much for poetry, in almost any form. It's not that I don't like it, I just never really got into it. But recently, I've found a few things like this, most of it Native American.
And man, it's scary how deeply they resonate in me.
Very well done.