Best Black Magic Poems
Madame Mistress, ebonies princess,
Southern comforts golden jewel,
A golden beauty down south does dwell.
She hides many secrets beneath her,
Glittering mask of mystery's mystic spells.
A dark priestess is this Cajun queen,
Black widows magic women,
Known as Ms. New Orleans.
In her crimson gown, trimmed by
Velvet's purple hues, she smiles
Behind her white lace fan.
A beguiling angel is she the devils
Own kindred.
The voodoo queen of the swampy delta,
Ruling over the shadow demons,
Whom guard the everglades.
Underneath fancy face and social grace,
Lies the misbegotten heart of a
Witches soul.
Here the trumpets sound at,
La Carnival as minstrels stroll,
Down Bourbon Street with rhythmic,
Precision's precise step.
Come join in celebrations grand parade,
The Maude Gra. Where anything goes,
Here things are forgotten as the sun rises,
This grand lady of beauty's legacy's charm.
Presses one finger to her redden lips,
Speaking not more than a hushed whispers
Sigh carried across bayou.
Thus does the Spanish moss weep, for
Those lost souls swallowed whole,
Beneath nights dark covenant of death.
Ghostly images walk the muddy side shores,
Phantom spectators existing as prisoners,
Trapped in limbos web, a thin fine line
Between the living and the dead.
Beware lone travelers, those for whom,
Seek mysteries glamor and mystic,
Of the southern by ways.
All are welcome to taste our spicy
Hospitality.
Yet beware pay homages respect,
To Mz. New Orleans, she after all takes
Great care of her own.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
What underhanded monkey business
razzle-dazzle bull is this?
Whose double-crossing, flimflam scam,
debauchery or hocus sham
is wheeling dealing in romance,
putting lovers in a trance?
Antics, capers or witch's brew,
enchanting hymns or shaman's stew,
whose quackery or voodoo drink
made Casanova stop and think
and turned the ancient lovers cold;
poor Romeo and nymphs of old?
Perhaps black magic's potent gel,
or craftiness or wicked spell,
a clever con or master hoax,
or just some trickster playing jokes.
Whatever ruse that works the arts,
mumbo jumbo seduces hearts!
Soft as mist,
slowly advancing
in shadowy silence,
sure-footed, steady, she
searches me with steadfast eyes,
sparked, it seems, by latent lightning,
smoldering still with sultry enchantment,
she stealthily leaps now to my lap, sitting
sweetly, safeguarding unfathomable secrets.
Dark energy spreads ink across the universe,
dripping scarlet liquid fated by black magic.
As the wheels spin poets' necromantic verse,
dark energy spreads ink across the universe,
and trumpeting angels’ mighty blasts rehearse.
The baneful sonnets doom driven by tragic.
Dark energy spreads ink across the universe,
dripping scarlet liquid fated by black magic.
Dark energy spreads ink across the universe,
As the wheels spin poets' necromantic verse,
and trumpeting angels’ mighty blasts rehearse.
The baneful sonnets doom driven by tragic,
dripping scarlet liquid fated by black magic.
Disk dim damning polemics prosing perverse.
The grumpy monsters need to eat
something delicious and sweet
Trick & Treat
The vampire finds blood to dine
serving temperature as red wine
Trick & Treat
No black magic for my cat
he does not wants to be transformed to a bat
Trick & Treat
Let the witches fly their own way
I wish to stay at home in Norway
Meow ... meow ...
~~~
12.10.2020
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Halloween Meow Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
2nd place in the contest
Black magic, White magic it’s all the same,
it’s all devil worship, it’s just in the name.
These people all think that they’re clever sods too,
by casting their spells there is nought they can’t do.
Black magic, White magic it’s all the same,
all witches and wizards are just plain insane.
They know it’s not real, they’re on a power trip.
do they really imagine that we are all thick.
Black magic, White magic it’s all the same,
they all believe that there’s more to life’s game
than what you can see or the things you have heard,
any sane person knows this is absurd.
Black magic, White magic it’s all the same,
the trouble and misery that’s caused by this game.
The spells that they cast are just wrecking my life
for they get all the good things and leave nothing but strife.
Black magic, White magic it’s all the same,
I’ll stick to religion it’s more like my game.
I’ll pray for some money for me and my wife,
I don’t need magic to help me through life.
Black magic, white magic it’s all the same,
maybe religion is part of this game?
If that is the case I must think this one through,
now where did I leave that good book on Voodoo.
Ivor G Davies
BLACK MAGIC
You work like temptation.
Souls like yours produce money and smoke.
Your laugh is a trigger for gun shots,
a whisper for promises never kept.
I remember when you played the piano
horrible and tricked me to pay for it.
You were the thunder scaring children
in the dark, voice a shadow never there.
Dear Mister Black Magic, you took out the sun
and the zombies cheered for you with worship.
Who are those that follow you, proud of path?
My control slipped under the butter of my fingers.
A cut started to grow in my skin. The next day
it started to heal. Mother Nature learned my listen.
Teach me to walk unnoticed. My roar is louder
than a lions. We are inside. Keep it down.
This is not a jungle. Those teeth are too big
for this environment. Learn another lesson
about the value of an object.
Scratching somebody’s back isn’t worth gold.
Black Magic Potions
Across vacancy memories invoke forgotten years
Exodus from antipathy inscrutably liberates fears
Intransience spiritually battles amoral challenges
Crucially revitalized measures presaging changes
Deceptions obscure lies within fraudulent sleeves
Bringing adversaries down indictments aggrieves
Justifications echoing beyond overpowering roars
Unlike forsaken vessels reality lands upon shores
Probing mortal frailties evading blind perceptions
Enlightenment transcend old black magic potions
Delusion transmogrified into vanishing blemishes
Swept along eroding waves of abandoned wishes
09/11/2013
Aboard cruise liner:
Splendour of the Seas
You did move Cupid's
practiced hand
By what vile means or flip of
wand
To strike my heart a
poisoned blow
And bid this painful ulcer
grow.
Like bird from tree to tree I
flit
To skip the toil within your
pit
And maybe find a potent cure
To life of fish before a lure.
If only you would hear my
plea
And drain this magic out of
me
I'd grab a trident and a
sword
And be to you a vengeful
lord.
They say you smuggled
something dark
By food or drink to slave
my heart
And force me play this
shameful part
Of dog to its own mother
bark.
From cult leader wafts a weird smell
What adult can conjure a spell
With words from occult
Which bring the result
That catapults Trump back to hell?
Here in Bolehland, one video clip is making its viral round...
A staged episode of how talking to strangers can be far from sound...
The power of black magic via touch or suggestion...
Must be serious enough to warrant this video clip production...
Every so often you hear of people being swindled. ..
From old pensioners soon relieved of their life savings...
To everyday housewives losing hundreds of thousands...
And lovelorn ladies giving up more than just their thousands...
I'm sure we each have many a story of such subtle crimes...
Every once a while someone emerges as a victim of these crimes ..
It's so tragic the consequences for some hapless victims...
A naive young country girl in China ended her life after being a victim....
To end her shame and self disgust instead of getting on with her life...
This kind of crimes has no limits and spare no victims each time...
Leaving the targeted victim bare of all cash and cleaned right to the bones.
This video clip is timely warning indeed that we should all well heed...
Being thus forewarned is to be forearmed that we will not be victims...
Make no mistakes, it is some unlucky few who are targeted as victims...
Prevention is better than cure, that's one healthy philosophy to take...
We have got to take precautions, just so that we are not up to their grade..
Being alert, we'll do well just to safeguard our hoards of hard earned wealth...
All such sorry stories we have heard and are definitely going to hear..
Serves ample warnings that we should always be alert and beware...
Prevention is better than cure, why be caught unawares...?
He was still paying the price
for ultimate unbending.
Before the black icon locked the waves
to start tremors for an apolitical murder.
He took the call and stood straight,
stopped the melodrama of drinking the venom
and became larger than death.
This is the story of a common man,
who remained silent, went on looking
for the invisible marks on the ornamental sword
carved after every farewell to the severed
head of another clan.
SATISH VERMA
All
In black
Dressed
To kill
Dracula,
In guise
Of
Vampire
Sucking blood.
In your struggle
To survive,
You must
Hold
Out a
Crucifix,
Until
The
Morning
Light.
6/ 30/ 2015.
Black magic, white magic, it’s all the same,
It’s all devil worship, it’s just in the name.
These people all think that they’re clever sods too,
By casting their spells there is naught they can’t do.
Black magic, white magic, it’s all the same,
All witches and wizards are just plain insane.
They know it’s not real, they’re on a power trip.
Do they really imagine that we are all thick.
Black magic, white magic, it’s all the same,
They all believe, that there’s more to life’s game,
Than what you can see or the things you have heard,
Any sane person knows that is absurd.
Black magic, white magic, it’s all the same,
The trouble and misery that’s caused by this game.
The spells that they cast are just wrecking my life,
For they get the good things and leave us the strife.
Black magic, white magic, it’s all the same,
I’ll stick to religion it’s more like my game.
I’ll pray for some money for me and my wife,
I do not need magic to help me through life.
Black magic, white magic, it’s all the same,
Maybe, religion is part of this game?
If that is the case, I must think this one through,
Now where did I leave that good book on Voodoo.
Ivor G Davies
I slither out from the rock I rest
Not feeling so bright, not the best
My face feels fake, like a painted clown
Nothing phases me, my expression, a frown
One thing I'm sure get me into the shower
So I scoop one-half cup of the black magic powder
Into the pot the black magic goes
The aroma, tantalizing, into my nose
A mystical potion, poured into the cup
About enough, to wake a bull up
I took a drink, from the abyss
Like a shot from an arrow, awoke my senses
The more I drank, the better I felt
Like getting whipped with a fine, leather belt
Revived I was, alive as could be
But for how much longer? We shall see
All was well, until the seventh hour
Twas time for some more, black magic powder
I made it through the day, it was a blast
The best part of it, was the part where I crashed