Least Read Pagan Poems
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Least read pagan poems. Find an undiscovered masterpiece in the DU Poetry least read poems.
yelluw_always
Poem Published
14th Feb 2019 00:13am
14th Feb 2019 00:13am
the beat of the flats
the veil of the clock drops
along rungs of the shying sun
the day’s final crackling
swings an off switch
propel a toe to heel back to front
onto a still pulsation of pagan rope
fire fingers wildness, water palms stacco
earth hairs happenstance, air limbs bright
upon an unbearable openness
as stars dip scooping land
love to our own devices
that drive neon masks breathless stomp vibratoless
I am the Gnome when digging the Foxes
I be the Tinkerbell guide to...
along rungs of the shying sun
the day’s final crackling
swings an off switch
propel a toe to heel back to front
onto a still pulsation of pagan rope
fire fingers wildness, water palms stacco
earth hairs happenstance, air limbs bright
upon an unbearable openness
as stars dip scooping land
love to our own devices
that drive neon masks breathless stomp vibratoless
I am the Gnome when digging the Foxes
I be the Tinkerbell guide to...
#PopCulture
#pagan
#magic #dance
#magic #dance
27 reads
18 Comments
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
33 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
43 reads
1 Comment
oskar
Poem Published
3rd Jan 2025 10:32am
3rd Jan 2025 10:32am
the inception edited
The inception edited
On his space-ship had traveled far to
a place where no big bang had happened
No rocks had been thrown into the room
named stars and planets like Saturn
Pluto and Mars
A place that can not be called dark because
darkness suggests an absence of light
Where a compact silence had slowed his ship
had no beginning or end
there was no North, West, South or East
navigating back to life was a hopeless task
no, up or down, left or right
He had reached a point where nothing had
ever existed, he asked himself...
On his space-ship had traveled far to
a place where no big bang had happened
No rocks had been thrown into the room
named stars and planets like Saturn
Pluto and Mars
A place that can not be called dark because
darkness suggests an absence of light
Where a compact silence had slowed his ship
had no beginning or end
there was no North, West, South or East
navigating back to life was a hopeless task
no, up or down, left or right
He had reached a point where nothing had
ever existed, he asked himself...
#pagan
#philosophical
#rebirth #redemption
#rebirth #redemption
44 reads
0 Comments
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
48 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
49 reads
0 Comments
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
53 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
56 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
59 reads
1 Comment
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