Pagan Seeking Honest Critique Poems
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pagan seeking honest critique poems. Honest feedback has been requested for these poems.
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
Yesterday 2:59pm
Yesterday 2:59pm
Found Scrawled Across an Instrument of Occultic Practice
This astrolabe has measured out
My days in damned astrology
The turning of its golden hands
Riposte to pure theology
My days in damned astrology
The turning of its golden hands
Riposte to pure theology
#historical
#magic
#pagan #spiritual
#pagan #spiritual
35 reads
3 Comments
REMARKABLE_8
RichyRich
RichyRich
Poem Published
2nd Mar 2025 5:45pm
2nd Mar 2025 5:45pm
Via "666"
6 Hour's 6 minutes 6 seconds the witching hour is at hand!!
Warlocks prepared for battle release your battle cry and lay out all your plans!!
Engaged in this eternal warfare mortal combat of the soul our main goal is to overtake and gain all control!
The Mission is clear as we get in gear with no fear, with dominance so overwhelming and bold!
Set for that final judgment hour and day fully equipped to make all our enemies fold!
Moving forward with full force, powerful rituals and spells designed to help all our goals to excel!!
...
Warlocks prepared for battle release your battle cry and lay out all your plans!!
Engaged in this eternal warfare mortal combat of the soul our main goal is to overtake and gain all control!
The Mission is clear as we get in gear with no fear, with dominance so overwhelming and bold!
Set for that final judgment hour and day fully equipped to make all our enemies fold!
Moving forward with full force, powerful rituals and spells designed to help all our goals to excel!!
...
#magic
#pagan
#rebirth
#religion
#spiritual
46 reads
0 Comments
PoetSpeak
Poem Published
2nd Mar 2025 4:03pm
2nd Mar 2025 4:03pm
Garrison Belt
The leather
It's not super soft
Nor particularly hard
It's just kinda right
When you're up against a wall
Slow strikes to start
Building in to a rhythm
A cracking sound against your ass
Thighs too when you get whiney
So far it's just the leather
The buckle is for other occasions
We've just started this journey
Wait darling....wait
It's not super soft
Nor particularly hard
It's just kinda right
When you're up against a wall
Slow strikes to start
Building in to a rhythm
A cracking sound against your ass
Thighs too when you get whiney
So far it's just the leather
The buckle is for other occasions
We've just started this journey
Wait darling....wait
#BDSM
#pagan
#risk
#ThrillSeeking
#TruthOfLife
189 reads
24 Comments
Nil
Nolan
Nolan
Poem Published
25th Feb 2025 11:00pm
25th Feb 2025 11:00pm
Erlik
Everyday I do austerities to the spirits.
I starve.
I don't drink water.
I bear pain I cause myself.
I don't feed my addictions
Self destructive spirituality.
I'm stuck in a mystical head space.
One foot here.
Another out there.
Where the Gods dance.
And I, an outsider there.
As I am here.
Hang out in burial grounds.
Starving like the mangy animal I am.
Embrace the change of death.
The shedding of skin of spring.
I am the wisdom of the trickster.
Always leave them guessing.
Never be the same....
I starve.
I don't drink water.
I bear pain I cause myself.
I don't feed my addictions
Self destructive spirituality.
I'm stuck in a mystical head space.
One foot here.
Another out there.
Where the Gods dance.
And I, an outsider there.
As I am here.
Hang out in burial grounds.
Starving like the mangy animal I am.
Embrace the change of death.
The shedding of skin of spring.
I am the wisdom of the trickster.
Always leave them guessing.
Never be the same....
#fate
#pagan
#sacrifice
69 reads
1 Comment
Nil
Nolan
Nolan
Poem Published
16th Feb 2025 7:15pm
16th Feb 2025 7:15pm
Asatru of the prairie
Down here in the coolies.
Right down by the slough.
I sit.
In the mud and dirty things.
Exasperated in my exhaustion.
Lying among dog tails and sweet grass.
Spear grass and hand picked sage.
And, let this smoke carry my sacrifice.
To the spirts.
And may they dim the sun.
So it doesn't beat down on me so.
As the sun turns orange.
Pink.
And red.
The sunset.
Announces the coming.
Of the cool night air.
And, I see Hugin and Munin.
Or, is it just raven.
In pairs.
...
Right down by the slough.
I sit.
In the mud and dirty things.
Exasperated in my exhaustion.
Lying among dog tails and sweet grass.
Spear grass and hand picked sage.
And, let this smoke carry my sacrifice.
To the spirts.
And may they dim the sun.
So it doesn't beat down on me so.
As the sun turns orange.
Pink.
And red.
The sunset.
Announces the coming.
Of the cool night air.
And, I see Hugin and Munin.
Or, is it just raven.
In pairs.
...
#ghosts
#pagan
#prayer
94 reads
1 Comment
Nil
Nolan
Nolan
Poem Published
16th Feb 2025 7:07pm
16th Feb 2025 7:07pm
The Mask of Coyote
Into the darkness.
Away from the light.
The bosom of creepy crawly things.
Rotten and impure.
One can't steal the sun.
One can't hide in noon day.
One can't run when the sun is on the horizon.
There's nowhere to abscond to, to be free from the.
Remand of life in the searing heat.
A jail of vile sweat.
I do not seek illumination Lucifer.
For in the shadows there lies me.
Mangy.
Rabid.
Starving.
Coyote the trickster stuck in desperation.
Nipping at the air.
Biting at the ghosts of dead men. ...
Away from the light.
The bosom of creepy crawly things.
Rotten and impure.
One can't steal the sun.
One can't hide in noon day.
One can't run when the sun is on the horizon.
There's nowhere to abscond to, to be free from the.
Remand of life in the searing heat.
A jail of vile sweat.
I do not seek illumination Lucifer.
For in the shadows there lies me.
Mangy.
Rabid.
Starving.
Coyote the trickster stuck in desperation.
Nipping at the air.
Biting at the ghosts of dead men. ...
#curse
#mythology
#pagan
61 reads
0 Comments
Nil
Nolan
Nolan
Poem Published
16th Feb 2025 1:58am
16th Feb 2025 1:58am
Hail Brigid!
I offer this, my life.
As a sacrifice.
To the restless dead.
To the hungry ghosts.
And all lines that end.
The fury of the tornado is fierce.
And, we have such little time.
Let me defy the fates.
May the Gods accept my offering.
Of blood.
As,
The shedding of blood.
Is sacred.
As a sacrifice.
To the restless dead.
To the hungry ghosts.
And all lines that end.
The fury of the tornado is fierce.
And, we have such little time.
Let me defy the fates.
May the Gods accept my offering.
Of blood.
As,
The shedding of blood.
Is sacred.
#hate
#pagan
#prayer
64 reads
1 Comment
Nil
Nolan
Nolan
Poem Published
14th Feb 2025 6:51pm
14th Feb 2025 6:51pm
Mantra
Every night.
I dream I die.
And,
I am reborn in the morning.
I have one foot in that far off place.
One foot in here.
I first went through the ego death.
Of a.
Shaman
At 18.
I channel spirits.
In charnel psychosis.
I am them.
When I act like them.
The mask I wear today.
Is never the mask I wore yesterday.
And, who am I?
Among all these ghosts.
I dream I die.
And,
I am reborn in the morning.
I have one foot in that far off place.
One foot in here.
I first went through the ego death.
Of a.
Shaman
At 18.
I channel spirits.
In charnel psychosis.
I am them.
When I act like them.
The mask I wear today.
Is never the mask I wore yesterday.
And, who am I?
Among all these ghosts.
#pagan
#rebirth
#religion
38 reads
0 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
5th Feb 2025 3:09pm
5th Feb 2025 3:09pm
Latter-Day Witch
for Ann
As tall and white as gypsum lace hung high,
With eyes that kings would seek to tell
The outcomes of their wars when God
Became gnomic, a Galilean witch.
A country wife to manors born,
Yet also hermit, wise woman.
She lies in graves and pulls from ancient sod
The origins of death, and scouts the skies
For strange objects that linger in the arch.
She knows more lore than folks can tell,
She knows the meaning of each knell,
For whom it calls to heaven and to hell.
And lastly I can say she lives in Essex...
As tall and white as gypsum lace hung high,
With eyes that kings would seek to tell
The outcomes of their wars when God
Became gnomic, a Galilean witch.
A country wife to manors born,
Yet also hermit, wise woman.
She lies in graves and pulls from ancient sod
The origins of death, and scouts the skies
For strange objects that linger in the arch.
She knows more lore than folks can tell,
She knows the meaning of each knell,
For whom it calls to heaven and to hell.
And lastly I can say she lives in Essex...
#historical
#magic
#pagan #witches
#pagan #witches
51 reads
1 Comment
Nil
Nolan
Nolan
Poem Published
2nd Feb 2025 6:32am
2nd Feb 2025 6:32am
Vision 4
I'm always dirty.
But I think a little earth.
Is a good omen.
Ties me to the spirits.
Of the dirt.
All of these little nic naks.
I track around like muck.
Is just a talisman.
Where nature follows me everywhere I go.
As organic.
As my techno paleo paganism.
I count the rabbits I see.
I look for ravens.
I bless the magpies as they pass by.
I commune with the coyotes and yip at the moon.
Bark sometimes.
To scavenge a meal.
I'm a fox.
Curled up in my feet.
That the damned eagle. ...
But I think a little earth.
Is a good omen.
Ties me to the spirits.
Of the dirt.
All of these little nic naks.
I track around like muck.
Is just a talisman.
Where nature follows me everywhere I go.
As organic.
As my techno paleo paganism.
I count the rabbits I see.
I look for ravens.
I bless the magpies as they pass by.
I commune with the coyotes and yip at the moon.
Bark sometimes.
To scavenge a meal.
I'm a fox.
Curled up in my feet.
That the damned eagle. ...
#earth
#pagan
61 reads
0 Comments
TheVORTEXRETURNS
Poem Published
29th Jan 2025 7:26pm
29th Jan 2025 7:26pm
"The Radiant Reckoning"
Countless beams of resplendent light. The illumination
of inescapable judgments.
The lustrous fires of a focused might.
The overpowering foreknowledge of fate and its purpose. Though an evil was unleashed.
The shackles that bind us unable to subdue its menace.
It glows with the light that would make us cower hiding all of are secrets.
Its blinding reckoning would make us fearful of its purpose.
The silence that would descend would overpower the winds that surround us.
The reckoning of that vivid test would ultimately prove ...
of inescapable judgments.
The lustrous fires of a focused might.
The overpowering foreknowledge of fate and its purpose. Though an evil was unleashed.
The shackles that bind us unable to subdue its menace.
It glows with the light that would make us cower hiding all of are secrets.
Its blinding reckoning would make us fearful of its purpose.
The silence that would descend would overpower the winds that surround us.
The reckoning of that vivid test would ultimately prove ...
#morality
#mythology
#pagan
#rebirth
#sacrifice
52 reads
0 Comments
PoetSpeak
Poem Published
28th Jan 2025 9:26pm
28th Jan 2025 9:26pm
Obtuse
Please lord
Spare me of righteousness
Allow me NOT to save souls
Let me bathe in sin
I seek honesty
I worship trust
Yet I am a heathen
To be clear
Spare me of righteousness
Allow me NOT to save souls
Let me bathe in sin
I seek honesty
I worship trust
Yet I am a heathen
To be clear
#dark
#evil
#morality #pagan
#morality #pagan
191 reads
40 Comments
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