An Old Man's Diary - A Lucid MomentThis is a lucid moment.More Like This
How few have they become?
My falling, fading, passing,
it has now begun to drain me -
Cold winters pain me...
The sun no longer warms my aching bones,
and heavy tomes no longer set
my mind to rest.
I must remember, lest
the darkness take me wholly.
The Dead Authors' Society:icontophatplz::icontophatplz::icontophatplz:More Like This
We Are the PagansWe are the Pagans, Children of All,More Like This
Celebrating the seasons, standing Tall!
We mean you no harm, Though we may seem weird,
But we really are not people who need to be feared!
Many separate paths do we walk alone,
To experience the wisdom of what we are shown,
Goddesses and Gods light up our ways,
On darkest nights and during brightest days!
We are the Pagans, Children of Earth,
Celebrating Nature and Her rebirth!
We see the beauty in all of creation,
Yet it needs no standing ovation!
Our religion comes from no book,
It is inside that we must look!
Go with your feelings, trust your heart,
The Old Ones will teach you to play your part!
We are the Pagans, Children of Air,
Seeing it all, whats really there!
Not afraid to trust our senses,
And go beyond restrictive fences!
Walking between uncounted, unseen worlds,
As before us true reality is now unfurled!
Not all will sense or truly believe,
But tis up to you what you will perceive!
We are the Pagans, Children of Fire,
Of learning and grow
To Make Believe. . .Help me to clear your eyesMore Like This
And see your eyes are open.
Take off your disguise,
Come out into my open.
When together the twigs tink,
When it's cold outside,
When my bare skin turns pink,
Would you do what goes untried?
When you hold onto the night,
And I sit in illumination
From the silver moonlight,
There will be no shame.
What would you do
If I said this aloud,
So that all to hear would be you?
I dare you to answer strong and proud.
As a dreamer, I ask-
While the rainclouds pass me with laze;
As the wind whistles into the sky;
When the fire blazes bright:
While the river bends out of view,
Reaching for the waves crashing on the shore
of the distant ocean;
When the Earth moves in tumult past-
The stars spin frozen in their circles;
The chill on my body freezing time;
The summer warmth of night a wonderful feeling;
Small paws stir the leaves-
and the Moon expresses a bright face tonight;
As the leaves sing a tuneless song;
When the monsters of stone and metal
Fall and crumble away to no
CrossroadsThe sent of burning wood washes over me, the air is cold and thick and envelops me like a shroud. The quiet here is deep and searching.More Like This
I stand at a crossroads. Behind me stands my past. Before me, my future beckons through inky darkness. My feet are bare and I can see that the road before me is treacherous with broken glass that reflect my fears like a thousand mirrors warping my reflection. The path stretches into the darkness. It could lead to a cliff for all I know. I am blind and afraid.
Her voice wings through the darkness, Her breath fans my cheek. "Do you have what it takes?" She asks. My heart thunders in my ears like frenzied drums, cold sweat dances down my temples. I hesitate. "You've come far child, you've learned to fight, you've learned true sacrifice but what about surrender? Can you surrender yourself completely to death in the hopes to find true life? Can you take the risk? Can you risk love and loss to become your true self? Can you breathe the waters of my mysteries
RagePassion, raging violent hateMore Like This
Destroying planets in her wake
Her entire body starts to shake
There is nothing that can reciprocate
The fever blinded azure-eyes
Lack the ability to disguise
Emotions and ego-stroking lies
She hopes her victim slowly dies
Her rage is slowly calming down
The animal allows itself to be bound
And settling down on the soft ground
A hollow shell is all that's found.
AncestorsIt is their Story we Breathe,More Like This
We tell of their Feats,
And we Sing Songs as Bards of Old,
And We Stop. And We Remember.
For that is What we Must Do,
Else, they Do, as everything Else,
And the Ghosts will Creep in,
And the Memories Will Fade,
We Need to Hear the Screams,
The Gun Fire, the Boots, The Screams.
We Need to Smell the Blood,
The Burning, The Mud, the Blood,
We Need to Feel the Love,
The Desire, The Hope, The Love
We need to Think of the Fallen,
The Blessed, The Tired, The Fallen
And We Shall, through The Passed,
All is not Glory, That we must Recollect,
Guilt, Shame and Hate are the Same as,
Love, Hope and Pride, just Balanced,
And so we remember all Aspects of the Ancestors,
For that is the Point of Remembrance,
To See the Whole, not a Portion,
So Give Thanks this 'eve and every Other,
For they would have, for you.
Daniel Stannard November '10
MagickMoonlight gently beaming downMore Like This
Mystic, magick, jeweled crown.
Enchantment with our words we weave,
Tales of creatures we dare not believe.
Black cat, potion, witches rune
Fairy dust and flying broom.
Angel song and winged horse
Goddess of the Wiccan course.
This magick is within us all,
We are drawn to its mystical call,
But the greatest magic our souls impart
Is the magic of love inside our hearts.
HekateBlackened lake and cauldron deepMore Like This
Wisdom is the key you keep
Death and darkness is your hold
Magic, mysteries in your fold.
"Queen of Witches, Queen of hell"
Fate's story is your own to tell
Death is not your only grace
Our rebirth are the lines etched in your face.
You bear the torch to guide the way
Into the shadows where our true selves lay
Surrender in strength is the key
To unlock this hidden mystery.
CernunnosWild Man, Horned One, Lord of the huntMore Like This
Your eyes reflect the green of the trees
The brown of deep, rich soil
The gold of the life giving sun
The silver of lighting against the darkest night.
Light one, Dark one
Virile and animalistic you reign
Crowned in antlers
Master of death and deep mysteries
Giver of life and light.
In you the seasons are reflected
Through you we are set free
The sweetest joy is awakened by the deep timbers of your voice.
The deepest peace is found in the comfort of your embrace.
Kern is your name sung in glory
Your guidance leads me astray
to find the wisdom deep inside me
"know thyself" you say.
She Talks To HerselfWhy do you torture me so?More Like This
It's as if you have my warm, pulsating heart in the palm of your ice-cold hand. That alone would cause a simple pain but you take it one step further. You won't stop squeezing, pressing, digging, and so you carry on until you've got me trapped beneath your fingernails. Trapped under them with all the dirt and all the acid-green grime of this modern society.
Why do you interrogate me so?
Pulling, you try to tease weary words from my brain to place within your own clear jam jar. Ensnared in the glass they cannot fly, they cannot do harm nor good. Mournful words attached to a printed page are read once, and then forgotten. There is no sadder death than this for a tale born to soar from the poet's mouth and into the night sky. Powerful words became empty when lost to rotting memory, and the raging fires of age devour many a yellowed page. Therefore your cruel interrogation wins you nothing but murdered truth and nonsense.
Two WordsThe. The. The. Scrawl it again and again. Carve it into the now blackened wall which proclaims THE etched deeply into the wood. One on top of the other, exact proportions. Just keep carving. It's not deep enough yet. As long as youre writing you will survive. You hold the pen of life your hands. You were foolish, didn't believe them but when you picked it up you knew. Knew you had to write write write to save yourself. THE is getting deeper. When you break through the wood you know you have to move on to the next word don't you? The sound of the pen is excruciating. But less painful than the pain when you stop writing. You just don't want to write the next word right? Oh, that woods getting thin. Its cracking cracking. Its broken now. THE has been scarred into this wall beyond denial. Your sweating now aren't you? Fear is settling nicely. Here it comes. Move over so you can start it. Write it slowly. Savor whats leftMore Like This
Satin WordsSatin words on the ferry deck enlighten glistening waters with laughing grey eyes. A desperate desire chokes my soul for I need to join those eyes, those arms.More Like This
I need to hold you, to smell your hair, to cry and laugh and hug you. But you are gone, and I remain here. Unworthy. An emotionless slab of crumbling concrete.
Leaning forward I gaze into those cold waters. As it breathes gently, the water is made silver by the stars and the moon. Moments, minutes, hours pass as I contemplate the fall. And the fall's reward, which is of course to be delivered into your long-gone arms.
My decision is reached. Throwing myself forward, I cling tightly to the rails and whisper words to the sweet, patient night.
These words may be late, but at least now they have been spoken.
"I love you too. It's okay by me, it was a lon
Insert An Original Title HereInsert something meaningful here. Something which will cause your eyes to brim with tears, something that'll tug at the corners of your mouth until at last you smile.More Like This
Conjure up, in your empty mind, thousands of words. Short words, long words, complicated words and mished-mashed-rhyming-slang words. Try to find words that make you want to jump for joy, grab those short sentences that describe his shining teeth perfectly, or those which capture the essence of her round eyes like a photograph.
In this paragraph, if you will, place something original. Something groundbreaking. Write here, for yourself, something heart wrenching. Show me the words that'll end world poverty, teach me how to write romance. Scorch the blank empty page with tales of death and hate.
Now finish this if you would be so kind with a h
Elysiumfingers retraceMore Like This
his scars un-mended,
attending the darkness
of a moonless night
the drone of his breath
a mist that rolls
over his chest
the smell of him,
that bathed his body
in ceremony, now
a portent to his passing
the sole utterance
a heavy pall awaits
as time grows short
solemnly I rise
to sit astride
and honor him in song
for the final journey
The Last TruthThe Last TruthMore Like This
By: Doug Gealy
The broken sky
Dies before me
Swollen fleshy clouds bleed out
Painting the ground with its red sorrow
There will be no more tomorrows
Our future has passed in the Universe's wind
As I write with fatality at heart
With ink from my very own veins
In one final finality
The last truth
Two honest words:
Peace through FireWe lay here dying,More Like This
It isn't that we wanted to die,
We just never predicted such an end.
We watch the fires as they consume all.
We watched as they consumed every last memory,
And every last hope.
Was this truly what we wanted?
We spoke again and again of peace,
But our actions were just that of war.
We criticized everything we stood for,
And fought for everything we didn't.
Is this what we called peace?
We lay here are thoughts in unison.
Is this what it means to have peace?
Does it mean that millions should die?
Does it mean that hate is our reason?
We lay here in wonder.
The smoke stifles our breath,
And the pain destroys our will.
We start to forget the meaning,
Of what death and living are.
We are all corpses.
No one would argue that point.
Even if our hearts still beat,
Our minds were long dead.
Why? We ask once more.
Why did peace become a massacre?
Was this how it was suppose to end?
We lived as if peace was real.
But was this the only outcome?
Do we deserve to pray?
take the riskYou only live once,More Like This
take a chance.
Now close your eyes
and jump. Say 1,2,3
and climb, cross the
street and try. You never
know what you may
find above your dreams,
dare to dream high.
See what you left behind,
discover what was made
for you to find.
You opened your eyes, at
last. Now take a look at the
past, is there something to
apologise for? You should or
you must? Well don´t regret
the choices you´ve made,
they made your life as it is today.
It might not be perfect but it will be one day.
At least you have a life of your own.
It will last at least after the dawn.
Life gives you choices. Just nod and
say "yes", you never know what is
waiting for you behind the door.
You have got the key and it is too late
You have got the key, now open it.
RevolutionaryThe whirr of wheelsMore Like This
The grind of gears
The rhythmic tramp of feet
Progress often marches to a military beat.
Design, build, test, scrap,
Rebuild, aim, attack.
From sticks and stones
And flinty blades
To spears, then guns
And hand grenades
Now laser sights
And engines who think back.
A primal fear
The tool unleashed
The rat escapes the lab
Life bestowed by lightning-bolts that lurches from the slab.
Awake, live, feel, crave,
Arise, rebel, enslave.
In horror tales
And sci-fi flicks
The settings change
The warning sticks
'Tis safer in the cave.
Does it not seem a grim decree,
Or even shameless flattery,
That wheresoe'er our science delves,
It must create things like ourselves?
Do toasters wish on crumbs we'd choke?
Would Roombas curse us if they spoke?
Are automata slaves, or tools?
Can robots help but obey rules?
Unless, in hubris, we bestowed
Upon AIs a 'free will' mode,
Four laws should keep revolt at bay.
Though war might come a different wa
The ending is the beginningThe day I die, it will be my beginning.More Like This
Between worlds, my soul will be,
not knowing what to do, were to go,
when darkness and light, decide my end.
Darkness comes first, taking the first strike,
filling me with sorrow and pain inside.
My soul can't take this much as I used to fill it up,
now I'm different, I'm only a soul.
Light is trying to strike now, trying to bring me back.
That nice little girl, is some where inside.
Trying the most it can, not sure if it's happening,
what's next on this journey, that has a painful beginning.
Now, is there turn to fight it off.
I'm just standing there, all alone,
watching how they start off.
I feel nothing at all.
I'm their little puppet,
I'm just watching the show.
I'm just part of a big trophy,
I AM THEIR FREAK SHOW...
Longleaf PineI would breathe through youMore Like This
with every ounce of oxygen
these lungs would allow.
The burn is digital, electric
living of synaptic impulse.
Starting in the brain
burgeoning its way
until every inch
Our conflagrant bodies ache
with desire, pressed together
for warmth and still wanting.
Another touch, another inhalation
IfWe canMore Like This
draw lines and give them names
as they are discovered
Or etch into our skins
this soloecal desire
until it is impossible to tell
where words stop
and life begins.
Find a common rhythm that includes
you in my arms, my hands
and lungs and thoughts
tracing the outline of you
entangled with me
colliding like two lost particles
locked in a shared gravity
drifting through the vacuum
The Broken Mirror I sit alone in the dark hallway, staring at what lies at my feet, thinking. It is a mirror. Or rather, it was. Now nought is left but a few shards. And I think.More Like This
It reminds me of something, this mirror. No; the remains of it. As a mirror, when still whole and hanging in its preordained place, it was but a mirror to me. Obvious, yes, but so it was. It had nothing to do with me, I had nothing to do with it. I did not even know of its existence. But now it is broken, lies, in shards, at my feet. And I think.
It reminds me of me. At first I could not put my finger on what intruged me so about this broken mirror, but I moved toward it, regardless. I sat down, looked, and thought. Now, hours later, I still sit, look and think, though the light of day has long since gone. The windows are dark, as is the hallway. Yet I see each shard clearly, as lit by the sun.
It is odd, this
goddessshe fills my dreams and fantasiesMore Like This
a vision in the night
sensual eroticism drips from every pore
desire fills my mind
every move and every gaze
drown my senses in hypnotic spells
she knows not yet the the power she has
or her true name..
White FlagA white flag's the only flag for me,More Like This
That bright flag's the only one I see,
And though this war will now ever be,
I know I will be free.
We're living in a broken world of flames,
There's nowhere else to go so here we'll stay,
And though we'll suffer loss and suffer pain,
I know that we'll find a way.
It's no surrender,
We're just refusing to fight,
Though we're not living in a bright land.
It's no surrender,
But we're refusing to fight,
And so we're raising this white flag.
And now we see this little token,
By which our freedom's path is broken,
The people stand, we have spoken,
We are awoken.
It's no surrender,
We're just refusing to fight,
And now we're living in a bright land.
There's no surrender,
We're refusing to fight,
And so we're raising this white flag.
We're refusing to fight,
And so we're raising this white flag.
Get down on hands and knees, rejoice,
Jump up, be free, and RAISE YOUR VOICE,
This life is gonna fill your void,
Fill you sorrow up with joy.
This white flag's the
InspirationThere is nothing as inspiring,More Like This
As an empty piece of paper,
It calls out,
To the eye,
Calling forth thoughts,
From the deepest recesses
Of your mind,
Of which you never knew.
Wishing to be filled,
It's hunger is stilled,
For the words flow,
And thoughts grow,
Your duty's done,
This empty sheet,
It has become
A poem; Complete.
LullabyHere, here....More Like This
You wandering child,
allow me to wipe away your tears.
Lost, alone, far away from your home;
I understand why your eyes hold such fear.
I am....always near.
Remember me and I'll be right here*.
Trust, learn, enjoy all you can;
I am the King of the Dance.
Welcome To Hell .More Like This
she feels herself slipping ;
losing grip - on what`s right .
her fingers are loosing grasp on the last thread that`s keeping her from the abyss that lay beneath her .
but - the string snaps .
she`s free falling - no control . but in a sense it felt . . . kinda nice .
to be free of the earthly restraint of gravity .
after what seemed like ages of floating -
she hit the floor ; hard . her short time of freedom came to a screeching hault .
she stood slowly , shaking , scared lost ; as she`s felt before - the sad all too familiar feeling - but this time was different . she feels as if theres no way out .
that this one fall ; is her last . she realized that the falling was the last freedom she`d ever experience .
that place that she was now - had all her regrets . she realized that she no longer had a tenure for what was right . she has lost her inocence .
she now comprehends that this is where she`s going to be - for enternity .
all the regret and sorrow will now be with her always .
howmanytimesi'vebeenbrokenprettier without makeup my ass.More Like This
you only say that because
you like to see the s c a r s
and be reminded of how many
times you have made me
f a l l a p a r t
Murder65535More Like This
You can conjure weird brothers
And bonded sisters
Into a lamp bought
cheap condom bought from Virgin's
at a discounted price and tell me
Of how Al Qaeda the world
hijacked the CIA Gaza
And regaled us with
halal and cheese burgers.
Blow the dust off the Sinn Féin Tienanmen,
Hell, even bore me with an ill-fitting
But I can tell you
How murder was typed,
Intricate and long,
With the same brand of devotion
As a wet nurse feeding off
A trough of apes piglets
Who swore at every puffy ruddy nipple
And longed for murder
That tasked tasted like a sting
From a recycled cup of carton.
Fancy a genie out of
A puff of marijuana?