Poetry competition CLOSED 25th May 2022 5:14am
WINNER
Anonymous
Anonymous
RUNNER-UP:
crimsin
Witches
Anonymous
Related submission no longer exists.
Anonymous
conjure a witch
behexed you conjure a witch
toil in the soul and boil
written in time are the witches
suffer not a witch to live
I wonder why that is?
I pray thee is it miracle or magic
the witch of Endor knew too much, I think
I take my healing potions to the poked and plagued
the towns people are alerted,
there is a witch in their midst who can heal
powerful women are feared
a circle in the sand is drawn
I call the four corners
and perform a glamor to keep myself hidden from spies
swirling the mists I see
they are coming to burn me
asking for my final confession
I vow I will return
to curse their children
dark of night and ravens talon
do you know me Sirs?
I Hexuba appear before you a siren
stirring the kettle I spit
venom drips from my tongue
a siren for sure music is how I cast
the winds of vengeance stir
the spell is set
deep into the night I conjure
curses in the night the last words I utter
Written by crimsin
(Unveiling)
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wind-song
tarry not oh sadness
I place you in a jar
stare at you in wonder, fair
you are beautiful
I am a witch who troubles not the magics
I have vowed not to disturb
that which is sacred
still, I cast with every word that tumbles from my tongue
altering the winds with my temper blow
a tempest stirring even as I take note
exiled in days past
I came to realize with this power comes great responsibility
carefully I braid my hair
a spell falling from my lips
let now the words uttered do no harm
may this lift up and not shatter
Written by crimsin
(Unveiling)
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Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Her Rose Stained Hands
In the bosom of the mountain calling
A foreign spirit forced to crawling
Women swarm the fire of her hand
Burning brighter under cursed command
She sends the northern deserts rain
She spreads her dress to stake her claim
And with a whisper of her breath
The demons rise to answer death
And all her sisters gather around
They talk to trees and trample the holy ground
Sing your songs to her alone
Bow to her terrestrial throne
For in their circle they make a stance
The witches perform their religious dance
The spirits teach the ways of the wood
They are cleansed in the name of sisterhood
Now they abide her desert way
Under her staff never lead astray
But it is here that fate will fall
Unless they break satanic call
She flees into her tent of red
She begs her starving soul be fed
And in her hand she opens the portal
With her sharpened knife water spilled from a mortal
She pled a witch would never waive
Now her allegiance sent to the grave
There's no place her magic stands
She cannot wipe her rose stained hands
A foreign spirit forced to crawling
Women swarm the fire of her hand
Burning brighter under cursed command
She sends the northern deserts rain
She spreads her dress to stake her claim
And with a whisper of her breath
The demons rise to answer death
And all her sisters gather around
They talk to trees and trample the holy ground
Sing your songs to her alone
Bow to her terrestrial throne
For in their circle they make a stance
The witches perform their religious dance
The spirits teach the ways of the wood
They are cleansed in the name of sisterhood
Now they abide her desert way
Under her staff never lead astray
But it is here that fate will fall
Unless they break satanic call
She flees into her tent of red
She begs her starving soul be fed
And in her hand she opens the portal
With her sharpened knife water spilled from a mortal
She pled a witch would never waive
Now her allegiance sent to the grave
There's no place her magic stands
She cannot wipe her rose stained hands
Written by Thetravelingfairy
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The Masons' Marks
I still tidy the family graves
when I can.
'Tis a duty, as the self-appointed
family caretaker , and
keeper of time.
I still recoil, too, when my fingertips
brush the Freemasons' marks, cut
into the headstones
and.....
all sorts of thoughts rush through my mind--
jagged things, that might splinter the soul
if......
I ever found out
to what degree, they made it, to.
Sometimes the wind comes, grinning, and
asks me if I think they knew, who
they were truly paying homage , to.
I tell the wind:
" I don't want to know, if
they made it to the 33rd, but
I do want to know
If you come in the name of Christ, the
one, true God."
The wind usually leaves, then, when
I've pulled 1 John : 4 , on it, and
I get to task, finishing
the weed-pull on all the plots.
Not all witches mix potions , and
ride broomsticks---some are in the form
of a Good 'Ol Boys' Club.
One of these days, I'll bring a chisel
and chip out those snickering, taunting
marks, offending
my ancestors' grave stones.
when I can.
'Tis a duty, as the self-appointed
family caretaker , and
keeper of time.
I still recoil, too, when my fingertips
brush the Freemasons' marks, cut
into the headstones
and.....
all sorts of thoughts rush through my mind--
jagged things, that might splinter the soul
if......
I ever found out
to what degree, they made it, to.
Sometimes the wind comes, grinning, and
asks me if I think they knew, who
they were truly paying homage , to.
I tell the wind:
" I don't want to know, if
they made it to the 33rd, but
I do want to know
If you come in the name of Christ, the
one, true God."
The wind usually leaves, then, when
I've pulled 1 John : 4 , on it, and
I get to task, finishing
the weed-pull on all the plots.
Not all witches mix potions , and
ride broomsticks---some are in the form
of a Good 'Ol Boys' Club.
One of these days, I'll bring a chisel
and chip out those snickering, taunting
marks, offending
my ancestors' grave stones.
Written by MadameLavender
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Hello Madame Lavender. Your submission will leave me seaching and pondering, Ok, the bible references are are easy to look up. As for the Masons, I never could get a grip on who they were or what their real aim was. More to search on the web. Perhaps they were part of the Good 'Ol Boys' Club you are referring to. Regards, Robert.
Witch of the Woods
- Witch of the Woods -
Her garments long and as black as night,
Move silently, in the absence of the light.
Silently, she winds her hungering way…
To find living flesh, upon which to prey!
In woods where only the foolish do go,
She waits unseen where shadows grow.
Even children are not safe, in her claws,
Nor the rat, which upon corpses gnaws!
Seeking to steal souls to keep her youth,
To stave off the ugliness of her untruth…
Her fingers knock upon old hollow trees.
To match the shakings of: scared knees!
In woods where madmen had their hour,
When the horned moon reveals a power.
That is when she comes, to drink blood,
And to steal the souls, to slake the flood;
Of time which ravages her hard visage…
As hard as a mountain rough and savage.
And so with a lust for what she once had,
Her claws drink deep, to drive men mad.
Twisting twigs and breaking bones apart,
The witch of the woods had not a heart…
And she tears one from a sleeping fellow.
Her cackling a song not gentle or mellow,
But shrill as the banshee who wails loud…
Beware the witch who wears the shroud!
Her garments long and as black as night,
Move silently, in the absence of the light.
Silently, she winds her hungering way…
To find living flesh, upon which to prey!
In woods where only the foolish do go,
She waits unseen where shadows grow.
Even children are not safe, in her claws,
Nor the rat, which upon corpses gnaws!
Seeking to steal souls to keep her youth,
To stave off the ugliness of her untruth…
Her fingers knock upon old hollow trees.
To match the shakings of: scared knees!
In woods where madmen had their hour,
When the horned moon reveals a power.
That is when she comes, to drink blood,
And to steal the souls, to slake the flood;
Of time which ravages her hard visage…
As hard as a mountain rough and savage.
And so with a lust for what she once had,
Her claws drink deep, to drive men mad.
Twisting twigs and breaking bones apart,
The witch of the woods had not a heart…
And she tears one from a sleeping fellow.
Her cackling a song not gentle or mellow,
But shrill as the banshee who wails loud…
Beware the witch who wears the shroud!
Written by Kou_Indigo
(Karam L. Parveen-Ashton)
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