Poetry Drafts

A little drop of blood

maxmundan:

circle-no-10:

In rooms lit by fire

lonely shadows play the flute

at midpoint a cauldron beckons

stiring slowly

Lady Death awaits

“Please proceed, use caution. the energies are alive tonight, bring the dagger forward, then begone you foolish cow!”

The Lady chants,

the words unspoken

the calling of the wild

commence

With full moon rising

the unborn soldier

shapeless in the cauldron rests

“Come to me, I welcome thee, my soldier, and my extacy”

The Lady cuts her palm in half

a little drop of blood revealed

silence… fire… blood…

Silence.  Fire.  Blood.

SILENCE – FIRE – BLOOD

In a room lit by fire

lonely shadows play the flute

at midpoint a cauldron beckons

stiring slowly

Lady Death awaits

Very, very cool. Great piece @circle-no-10

Thank you 🙂

A little drop of blood

In rooms lit by fire

lonely shadows play the flute

at midpoint a cauldron beckons

stiring slowly

Lady Death awaits

“Please proceed, use caution. the energies are alive tonight, bring the dagger forward, then begone you foolish cow!”

The Lady chants,

the words unspoken

the calling of the wild

commence

With full moon rising

the unborn soldier

shapeless in the cauldron rests

“Come to me, I welcome thee, my soldier, and my extacy”

The Lady cuts her palm in half

a little drop of blood revealed

silence… fire… blood…

Silence.  Fire.  Blood.

SILENCE – FIRE – BLOOD

In a room lit by fire

lonely shadows play the flute

at midpoint a cauldron beckons

stiring slowly

Lady Death awaits

inkeddiaries:

I’m boring in real life but seem to be an interesting person online and that’s only because I seem to have a way with writing my thoughts. So what does that make me? A boring person or interesting? Which life matters? 

The view or definition that you are “boring” is likely made up by yourself at some point in time at it stuck. I doubt that the people around you is constantly reaffirming that “truth”. In the online world you are sharing parts of you which you might not otherwise share, with people who are interested in what you are sharing. Match! Neither of these views will ever fully define you as to define you will take a lifetime for an infinite number of of people and they would still get you wrong. All parts of your life matter, reflect on them regularly then open the door and live the life You want.

The Dream

These are just words

Stacked by me

Dissected by You

These are just words

The output from an interrupt driven process

To form the input to multifaceted minds

where unknown contexts roam

Ergo I ask

How can this make any sense at all?

These are just words

Letters hugging letters

Spacings in between

Lacking the context

and clarity of

The Dream

I will write something, later …

Read this line again
and again
Did you notice the difference
how the words in your head
sounded foreign
the accent not quite right
unexpected
as if I was writing in
my second language
wanna know a secret?
I was
I’m not from around here
I hail from ProcrastiNation

mostly lesser

mostly lesser the

perception through thought

a drowning flute’s muted notes

sinking deeper

subconsciously levelling out

embedding itself the

memories growing

from thought forming

mostly lesser than

that unmuted venture

of life

Prompted by a @poetryriot prompt: mute

Puppets, I rule

On the corner plot
By the willow Tree
An arm recovered
[Red roses bleed]
On the picket fence
By the old canal
A burnt out torso
[Restless fire dancing]
Covered in white
Every scene alike
No inch untouched
[A changing puzzle, fools!]
I provide for you
Scalpel and tinder
targets and places
[Perverted lust engaging]
I provide for them
tools of measure
Black bags for treasures
[Cyclic passion rules]
Purveyor of filth
Finest rates for you
I play both sides
[Puppets, I rule!]

Prompted by a @poetryriot prompt: black bag

bulldoze me gently

Cut n paste my shivers
then shred me unaligned
cookie crumble itchings and
an empty cup of wine
bulldoze me gently
my dear
wrap me
keep me calm
with a bit of
luck
I can last
till morn

behind streak free windows

another week

for the weak

to wake

in solitude

behind streak free

windows

maintained lawns

greeting the blind

strawberry fields

fuelling

drooling

postapocalyptic

drama unfolding

Monday morning

the lies

amoving

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