Poetry competition CLOSED 4th June 2013 3:46pm
WINNER
druidicheirophant (AVARIS DEMALO)
druidicheirophant (AVARIS DEMALO)
RUNNER-UP:
clio13
Modernized Occult
I will most certainly be back for this with a more serious entry. I am leaving this here for now, just because I just recently wrote it, and it seems somewhat pertain-able. It is more of a statement than a poem, and the term "esoteric" could easily be exchanged with "occult" in this context.
"grey area"
the problem with esoteric knowledge, other
than the words esoteric and knowledge, is
many folks seem to get the impression
that absolute lightness or darkness
should be embraced
when in doing so
you negate being acquainted
with either
"grey area"
the problem with esoteric knowledge, other
than the words esoteric and knowledge, is
many folks seem to get the impression
that absolute lightness or darkness
should be embraced
when in doing so
you negate being acquainted
with either
Anonymous
deleted
Anonymous
“I Conjuror”
http://i3.squidoocdn.com/resize/squidoo_images/-1/draft_lens18659589module154493681photo_1319492185vodouclaw.jpg
The years have
accumulated,
I wear them
hidden inside,
an angst
simmering
behind
such charm,
such purity.
They,
the powers that be,
those
high and mighty profiteers
off the misery of others,
have created an
invisible-monster
in me,
masked deep
in animus.
I will pay my debt
to society soon.
For surety,
I conjure
every
foul-demon of Satan,
voodoo creature
of the night
to come knocking.
I bow in reverence
give them my heart,
my spirit,
my soul,
implore,
beg them to
offer recompense for
the senseless deeds
they have committed.
I pray twenty-four-seven,
offer incantations to
the
dark powers,
hoping the hour comes soon
to destroy those
who have destroyed me.
“I do not boil the hair alone,
But all these things together thrown,
With their hearts and souls that they,
May perish and forever be
Only in demons' company”*
*Taken from ancient text, an incantation to “to injure an enemy”
http://i3.squidoocdn.com/resize/squidoo_images/-1/draft_lens18659589module154493681photo_1319492185vodouclaw.jpg
The years have
accumulated,
I wear them
hidden inside,
an angst
simmering
behind
such charm,
such purity.
They,
the powers that be,
those
high and mighty profiteers
off the misery of others,
have created an
invisible-monster
in me,
masked deep
in animus.
I will pay my debt
to society soon.
For surety,
I conjure
every
foul-demon of Satan,
voodoo creature
of the night
to come knocking.
I bow in reverence
give them my heart,
my spirit,
my soul,
implore,
beg them to
offer recompense for
the senseless deeds
they have committed.
I pray twenty-four-seven,
offer incantations to
the
dark powers,
hoping the hour comes soon
to destroy those
who have destroyed me.
“I do not boil the hair alone,
But all these things together thrown,
With their hearts and souls that they,
May perish and forever be
Only in demons' company”*
*Taken from ancient text, an incantation to “to injure an enemy”
One I wrote in 2008. But I shall write and enter a new one also...
Spellcasting
Wilweorthunga Licwiglunga Galdra and Hwata
witches spellcasting precise in this matter
A happening a knowing of some that are near
if you are close there is nothing to fear.
To find Frithspottum cast out the undesired
It's not such a task for a soul that is fired
There is a darkness inside every fold
of an unknowing nature with much yet untold
Be as you are or be as you will
there is a Galdra to make you stand still
If you feel funny if you feel strange
maybe your abominations are way out of range
Wilweorthunga Licwiglunga Galdra and Hwata
witches spellcasting precise in this matter
A happening a knowing of some that are near
if you are close there is nothing to fear.
Spellcasting
Wilweorthunga Licwiglunga Galdra and Hwata
witches spellcasting precise in this matter
A happening a knowing of some that are near
if you are close there is nothing to fear.
To find Frithspottum cast out the undesired
It's not such a task for a soul that is fired
There is a darkness inside every fold
of an unknowing nature with much yet untold
Be as you are or be as you will
there is a Galdra to make you stand still
If you feel funny if you feel strange
maybe your abominations are way out of range
Wilweorthunga Licwiglunga Galdra and Hwata
witches spellcasting precise in this matter
A happening a knowing of some that are near
if you are close there is nothing to fear.
This has to be my absolute FINEST modernized occult horror tale I've ever written. It's surreal, powerful, and totally insane! And it's even got a bit of me in it for added coolness. Here is... "Cottage of the Damned" and "Beyond the Cottage of the Damned" with both segments comprising a single continuous story.
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/84272-cottage-of-the-damned/
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/84528-beyond-the-cottage-of-the-damned/
It's dark, mature, powerful and definitely not for the kids. It has ancient dark forces, unflinchingly gory scenes, and powerful magical elements that make it exactly right for this contest.
Enjoy!
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/84272-cottage-of-the-damned/
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/84528-beyond-the-cottage-of-the-damned/
It's dark, mature, powerful and definitely not for the kids. It has ancient dark forces, unflinchingly gory scenes, and powerful magical elements that make it exactly right for this contest.
Enjoy!
Anonymous
(I hope this meets your criteria for this comp. It's the first part of a story I'm writing) Thank you.
The Day of Choice
Awakened by the chaotic sounds bellowing at me from the street, I glanced out the bedroom window then quickly threw on some jogging pants with my nightshirt and ran out the front door. The color struck me first, the red and brown shades of blood spilled onto everything I looked at. Cars, street signs, people, and the street itself were all splashed, not covered entirely but dotted and sprayed.
The noise was so loud that it sounded muffled. A mixture of gasps, screams, swear words, prayers, and names echoed through my mind.
This was the end of something and the beginning of something else. The weeks preceding this event had all but announced this day's arrival. The floods of previous years had destroyed crops and the resulting famine had grown to all out starvation for many. The schools had been closed down until balance was restored within communities. People had stopped going to work and every food establishment had been closed for months due to lack of supplies. Crime had escalated so high that the National Guard was patrolling high risk areas constantly. Hospitals were turning patients away as they were at full capacity and had nothing to feed them, anyway. Travel had all but stopped because nowhere else in the world was any better off and nothing was being exported or imported much anymore. Money had been rendered useless after the initial criminals jacked up prices and sold off what they had. There were many families who'd headed for the country but in such numbers that every berry and edible plant had been picked and even grass was scarce.
Standing on my front porch as groups of frantic people ran past, I wondered where they were all going, and why. An elderly man with a walking stick walked slowly with a younger woman who looked quite ill and I stopped them, asking what was going on. "It's the troops, they have food supplies for us" the old man said as he kept walking. "It's a miracle" said the woman he walked with, "all we have to do is get a number assigned to us and then it's placed in a chip under the skin by the Army medical staff, it's painless and then we get the chip scanned by the feds over at the FEMA unit and they give us boxes of food!" she continued, never breaking her stride.
I walked back into my house, into the barren kitchen, wishing I had coffee and remembering the lovely smell of it for a moment. There were few animals left in the wild and all family pets died off weeks back. Every family had been cut in half at best and wiped out entirely in worse cases. The sky was darker than I'd ever seen it before and a sense of hopelessness was carried on the air. An Army vehicle with a megaphone crept along the street and sitting at my bare breakfast table I listened to the announcement. "...those who refuse to have a number chip assigned will not eat...those who do not have a number chip will not be permitted to use public services..."
I sat incredibly still for what may have been five minutes or five hours, feeling numb enough not to panic. I thought back on the year I heard that bee's were becoming extinct and how we'd starve without them. I thought about the days of anguish I'd spent trying to tell people not to allow Monsanto and companies like it to infiltrate our food supply with chemicals that harmed humans, animals, the planet itself. Thought about the ice caps, the ozone, life on Mars, the Sun and Moon, the afterlife. My hunger sat trying to convince me that a microchip was nothing, that eating was more important than anything else. I'd seen this day coming but I never knew when and frankly, I'd hoped it would be a hundred years on.
This was the moment where you picked sides. This was the time to face every belief you held and question it. This was perhaps, the end.
The Day of Choice
Awakened by the chaotic sounds bellowing at me from the street, I glanced out the bedroom window then quickly threw on some jogging pants with my nightshirt and ran out the front door. The color struck me first, the red and brown shades of blood spilled onto everything I looked at. Cars, street signs, people, and the street itself were all splashed, not covered entirely but dotted and sprayed.
The noise was so loud that it sounded muffled. A mixture of gasps, screams, swear words, prayers, and names echoed through my mind.
This was the end of something and the beginning of something else. The weeks preceding this event had all but announced this day's arrival. The floods of previous years had destroyed crops and the resulting famine had grown to all out starvation for many. The schools had been closed down until balance was restored within communities. People had stopped going to work and every food establishment had been closed for months due to lack of supplies. Crime had escalated so high that the National Guard was patrolling high risk areas constantly. Hospitals were turning patients away as they were at full capacity and had nothing to feed them, anyway. Travel had all but stopped because nowhere else in the world was any better off and nothing was being exported or imported much anymore. Money had been rendered useless after the initial criminals jacked up prices and sold off what they had. There were many families who'd headed for the country but in such numbers that every berry and edible plant had been picked and even grass was scarce.
Standing on my front porch as groups of frantic people ran past, I wondered where they were all going, and why. An elderly man with a walking stick walked slowly with a younger woman who looked quite ill and I stopped them, asking what was going on. "It's the troops, they have food supplies for us" the old man said as he kept walking. "It's a miracle" said the woman he walked with, "all we have to do is get a number assigned to us and then it's placed in a chip under the skin by the Army medical staff, it's painless and then we get the chip scanned by the feds over at the FEMA unit and they give us boxes of food!" she continued, never breaking her stride.
I walked back into my house, into the barren kitchen, wishing I had coffee and remembering the lovely smell of it for a moment. There were few animals left in the wild and all family pets died off weeks back. Every family had been cut in half at best and wiped out entirely in worse cases. The sky was darker than I'd ever seen it before and a sense of hopelessness was carried on the air. An Army vehicle with a megaphone crept along the street and sitting at my bare breakfast table I listened to the announcement. "...those who refuse to have a number chip assigned will not eat...those who do not have a number chip will not be permitted to use public services..."
I sat incredibly still for what may have been five minutes or five hours, feeling numb enough not to panic. I thought back on the year I heard that bee's were becoming extinct and how we'd starve without them. I thought about the days of anguish I'd spent trying to tell people not to allow Monsanto and companies like it to infiltrate our food supply with chemicals that harmed humans, animals, the planet itself. Thought about the ice caps, the ozone, life on Mars, the Sun and Moon, the afterlife. My hunger sat trying to convince me that a microchip was nothing, that eating was more important than anything else. I'd seen this day coming but I never knew when and frankly, I'd hoped it would be a hundred years on.
This was the moment where you picked sides. This was the time to face every belief you held and question it. This was perhaps, the end.
http://0.tqn.com/d/paganwiccan/1/0/X/I/-/-/Santera.jpg
Santera, I am a pagan in these modern times
in yesteryears I would have been burned
at the stake for my heretic crimes.
Now we seem to be objects of curiosity
fodder for b rated movies or the products
of backward, superstitious societies.
The masses are truly wrong
their lack of understanding underlines
how ignorance and arrogance have gone too far.
How their impertinent fear of the unknown
have kept the truth in the dark for too long.
Santera, with the title comes’ power
but also much responsibility, healer,
teacher, keeper of the lore and spiritual leader
none of which are to be taken lightly;
we are, for our communities,
the heartbeat and tradition keepers.
An ancient belief of pre-Christian times
that has survived genocide, war and slavery,
colonial integration, modernization
and last but not least modern education;
we… are… still… here in this generation
doing what we have always done
living our traditions in this civilization.
*Santera (female follower of Santeria)
Gypsy Red
I am Iyalorisha
(priestess mother of saints),
omo Chango (daughter of Chango)
Adelaya Adeleke, a santera.
I am my spiritual father’s daughter,
Alafia! Ache to all!
(blessings, peace and light to all).
modernized occult for the modernized man
spells cast, and out streched back, bending, hope it don't break
for the sake of all, all must unfold
from the potion from the pot of the ocean.
The deep dark witches brew stirred and boils
what truthly is right will truthly be spoken!
Or will the avalanche of misinformation
tumble down and make ALL our deeds scream.
What truthly is light, life and twilight
from the dark, black and solomn and bright!
Can evil deeds awake the bright light to end the hate
Can pain make men of us all?
Can weight make us strong?
maybe, just maybe that "gods" wear a shroud
poking and prodding; for ourself to absolve
the hate within ourselves, and its ourselves we burn to the cross
and after all the fire and the pain
will the True Man from the witches brew reign.
So what is vodoo; on the list of things to do?
does he have a chicken head in his hand
with a knife at your throat?....or a rope?
Or is he just making chicken whole soup----
you know its good for the soul!
spells cast, and out streched back, bending, hope it don't break
for the sake of all, all must unfold
from the potion from the pot of the ocean.
The deep dark witches brew stirred and boils
what truthly is right will truthly be spoken!
Or will the avalanche of misinformation
tumble down and make ALL our deeds scream.
What truthly is light, life and twilight
from the dark, black and solomn and bright!
Can evil deeds awake the bright light to end the hate
Can pain make men of us all?
Can weight make us strong?
maybe, just maybe that "gods" wear a shroud
poking and prodding; for ourself to absolve
the hate within ourselves, and its ourselves we burn to the cross
and after all the fire and the pain
will the True Man from the witches brew reign.
So what is vodoo; on the list of things to do?
does he have a chicken head in his hand
with a knife at your throat?....or a rope?
Or is he just making chicken whole soup----
you know its good for the soul!
Rope Of Hate
She cast into the night
with belief desire and will
With her bodily fluids she bound into
the rope of hate
her blood the fire between each weave
saliva for her desire to bring about revenge
urine for the strength of the spell she cast
plaited deep within the fibers
a black candle whose flame burns blue
she sends her will into the night
whispering the incantation of her requirement
sending it out
"with the thread of the crimes
of your own design
I bind you from behind
I bind you with the hurt you create
I bind you from above and below
let my will unfold"
as the rope burns by the flame of blue
ashes blown into the wind
the magic of her desire shall now begin
She cast into the night
with belief desire and will
With her bodily fluids she bound into
the rope of hate
her blood the fire between each weave
saliva for her desire to bring about revenge
urine for the strength of the spell she cast
plaited deep within the fibers
a black candle whose flame burns blue
she sends her will into the night
whispering the incantation of her requirement
sending it out
"with the thread of the crimes
of your own design
I bind you from behind
I bind you with the hurt you create
I bind you from above and below
let my will unfold"
as the rope burns by the flame of blue
ashes blown into the wind
the magic of her desire shall now begin
Occult
Oh you rectify my child birth
Just drink some Makers Mark and kick
the bourbon on the rocks
That's crazy roll it through the night
I wanted to be a Mormon at 11
Watched Footloose when thay where Christian
And now we're just tuning our electrics on
To smash right through your spotlight
Stop chasing we're younger
You keep on tracing but you can't thunder
Nor can you repend to anything that you have said
Just like an orchid bulb revises its bed
You want to be a bridesmaid but your theory
Is like a vintage whore playing a mans chess game
You say its for the democratic party
How about when Howy Milk invented doggy poo bags that make a billion monies
Your democratic leaders where so over zealous thay shot us for our honey
Watch out for here comes the next generation
And thay don't muck about with guns
Thay are dancers and the street fighters
So kick your heels off your out of this one
She said nothing, psychokiller can't face up to the facts
"How do we sleep while our beds are Bernie's"
Midnight Oil, Guns n Roses, David Bowie, Rolling Stones.
And ziiiiiiggy plaaaaaaaaaaaayed guiiiiiiiiiiiitar!
The machine slowly released the pressure from its engine
And took a big pause to make it realise
The stereo was playing The New Archetypes
and then it noticed, time for redundancy, oh which Ombudsman?
Oh you rectify my child birth
Just drink some Makers Mark and kick
the bourbon on the rocks
That's crazy roll it through the night
I wanted to be a Mormon at 11
Watched Footloose when thay where Christian
And now we're just tuning our electrics on
To smash right through your spotlight
Stop chasing we're younger
You keep on tracing but you can't thunder
Nor can you repend to anything that you have said
Just like an orchid bulb revises its bed
You want to be a bridesmaid but your theory
Is like a vintage whore playing a mans chess game
You say its for the democratic party
How about when Howy Milk invented doggy poo bags that make a billion monies
Your democratic leaders where so over zealous thay shot us for our honey
Watch out for here comes the next generation
And thay don't muck about with guns
Thay are dancers and the street fighters
So kick your heels off your out of this one
She said nothing, psychokiller can't face up to the facts
"How do we sleep while our beds are Bernie's"
Midnight Oil, Guns n Roses, David Bowie, Rolling Stones.
And ziiiiiiggy plaaaaaaaaaaaayed guiiiiiiiiiiiitar!
The machine slowly released the pressure from its engine
And took a big pause to make it realise
The stereo was playing The New Archetypes
and then it noticed, time for redundancy, oh which Ombudsman?
demon muser and gnosis fuser
discarnate phantoms,
helped me procure this anthem,
various wraiths workings in tandem,
divinely advanced mesmers,
travelling star questers,
malign soul groups of tempters,
known to straight up dismember,
the heathenistic demon musers,
and mystic gnosis fusers,
advanced daemonic breeds,
mixing the genes of gothic kings and creeds,
along with the annunaki seeds,
feeding fiends as easily as picking weeds,
counsel with the draconians to pay heed,
to quarantine earth and they all agreed,
dwell on the edges of creation,
and the in-between realms,
caster of sorcery-abrasion,
always at the helm,
high cities of old,
is where my soul gained the code,
to express the ways of the bold,
with dark arts untold,
wanderers of the left hand path,
casts of malign wraths,
and omens,
electromagnetic energies make my soul bolden
approached the spellcasters coven,
was greeted as if i was there demonic summon,
with words etheric,
innately inclined to the esoteric,
otherworldly rhetoric,
soul groups of immortal,
immoral,
derelicts,
beastly maruaders funded by greedy clerics,
hoarding arcane arts and relics,
they had the seers hung drawn and quartered
and martyred,
than the gnosis hoarders,
procured the new world order,
that manipulates ignorance and karma,
invisible tyranny styled in accordance with ancestral trauma,
sense the profound meaning in between each comma,
questions through my mind soar,
should i use my right hand or left hand more,
or both shall i wield,
and amass etherically an astral shield,
until all facets of soul are healed,
than embark on a journery,
let synchronicity guide me through the earthly,
seems like most of man are in flow like the raven,
not many among us have archaic wounds engraven,
like glyphs on a wall in a city's haven,
etched into my race memory,
almost like by a demonic entity,
psyches realms and caverns,
exploring the psychic underworld with a lantern,
aiming for the divine,
clearing away cobwebs with the sword of mind,
cavernous creaks,
and watery leaks,
the bequeathments of ancient mystiques,
the average man seems grand,
my turmoil in ancient clans,
got me succumbing to the whim of the left hand,
but for this earthly blight,
i manipulate using the skills of the right,
definition of schizoid,
healing from trauma,
than casting others into the void,
fallen ancient clans,
that were once grand,
the nature of black magic and trauma go hand and hand,
the luciferians,
funded clans of barbarians.
hoarded the gnosis on the annunaki tablets of the sumerians,
ripped the seers from mother earths womb like a caesearian,
now earth teems with malignant saints,
whom had manipulated fates,
can't explore heavens gates,
by designed self-hate,
which is their own body,
a temple,
their own soul,
their own mental,
ancient advance divine entities,
paraphysical manipulators of energies,
quarantined soul awakening past like memories,
the soul tune mirrors what i emanate to the universe,
than surrounds me with elemental beings imbuing each verse,
i could use these entities to aid in my cast of a curse,
and have decadent malign energies disperse,
try to stick to the shamanic way,
and not aid in mans decay,
by malign sway,
but sorcerers co-opting my ancient wounds,
invoke vengeance in my heart so i feel doomed.
discarnate phantoms,
helped me procure this anthem,
various wraiths workings in tandem,
divinely advanced mesmers,
travelling star questers,
malign soul groups of tempters,
known to straight up dismember,
the heathenistic demon musers,
and mystic gnosis fusers,
advanced daemonic breeds,
mixing the genes of gothic kings and creeds,
along with the annunaki seeds,
feeding fiends as easily as picking weeds,
counsel with the draconians to pay heed,
to quarantine earth and they all agreed,
dwell on the edges of creation,
and the in-between realms,
caster of sorcery-abrasion,
always at the helm,
high cities of old,
is where my soul gained the code,
to express the ways of the bold,
with dark arts untold,
wanderers of the left hand path,
casts of malign wraths,
and omens,
electromagnetic energies make my soul bolden
approached the spellcasters coven,
was greeted as if i was there demonic summon,
with words etheric,
innately inclined to the esoteric,
otherworldly rhetoric,
soul groups of immortal,
immoral,
derelicts,
beastly maruaders funded by greedy clerics,
hoarding arcane arts and relics,
they had the seers hung drawn and quartered
and martyred,
than the gnosis hoarders,
procured the new world order,
that manipulates ignorance and karma,
invisible tyranny styled in accordance with ancestral trauma,
sense the profound meaning in between each comma,
questions through my mind soar,
should i use my right hand or left hand more,
or both shall i wield,
and amass etherically an astral shield,
until all facets of soul are healed,
than embark on a journery,
let synchronicity guide me through the earthly,
seems like most of man are in flow like the raven,
not many among us have archaic wounds engraven,
like glyphs on a wall in a city's haven,
etched into my race memory,
almost like by a demonic entity,
psyches realms and caverns,
exploring the psychic underworld with a lantern,
aiming for the divine,
clearing away cobwebs with the sword of mind,
cavernous creaks,
and watery leaks,
the bequeathments of ancient mystiques,
the average man seems grand,
my turmoil in ancient clans,
got me succumbing to the whim of the left hand,
but for this earthly blight,
i manipulate using the skills of the right,
definition of schizoid,
healing from trauma,
than casting others into the void,
fallen ancient clans,
that were once grand,
the nature of black magic and trauma go hand and hand,
the luciferians,
funded clans of barbarians.
hoarded the gnosis on the annunaki tablets of the sumerians,
ripped the seers from mother earths womb like a caesearian,
now earth teems with malignant saints,
whom had manipulated fates,
can't explore heavens gates,
by designed self-hate,
which is their own body,
a temple,
their own soul,
their own mental,
ancient advance divine entities,
paraphysical manipulators of energies,
quarantined soul awakening past like memories,
the soul tune mirrors what i emanate to the universe,
than surrounds me with elemental beings imbuing each verse,
i could use these entities to aid in my cast of a curse,
and have decadent malign energies disperse,
try to stick to the shamanic way,
and not aid in mans decay,
by malign sway,
but sorcerers co-opting my ancient wounds,
invoke vengeance in my heart so i feel doomed.
The New "New"
Can you the blame the new christ with high yellow clovers for wings?
I vaunted to be the wife of this new dimension, such a fool I am,
to endeavour a soar on the cobalt blood
and he envisioned upon the new motherland with crystal
beanstalks and his eyes are
the reincarnated twin towers
No god is exceptional for this threshold, and my dear Manson agrees that we live in spirituality.
Thee says I'm gold, but I bleed silver
Thee hates my esoteric knowledge, but doesn't dare relinquish their own pearls
Thee hates the color of my skin, yet he kills his own tribe
Thee can never understand me.
And the group shouts above and below that we bleed in fury at the downfall of our
social class and the shutter islands
of commercial entities biting our toes,
I bear the weight of this world dear Lamia,
will your words agree?
Can you the blame the new christ with high yellow clovers for wings?
I vaunted to be the wife of this new dimension, such a fool I am,
to endeavour a soar on the cobalt blood
and he envisioned upon the new motherland with crystal
beanstalks and his eyes are
the reincarnated twin towers
No god is exceptional for this threshold, and my dear Manson agrees that we live in spirituality.
Thee says I'm gold, but I bleed silver
Thee hates my esoteric knowledge, but doesn't dare relinquish their own pearls
Thee hates the color of my skin, yet he kills his own tribe
Thee can never understand me.
And the group shouts above and below that we bleed in fury at the downfall of our
social class and the shutter islands
of commercial entities biting our toes,
I bear the weight of this world dear Lamia,
will your words agree?
