Best Sorcerer Poems


Premium Member The Sorcerer

Monseigneur Reygus Hameltus—defrocked priest and sorcerer of the black 
arts; epiphany of evil and master of debauchery.
He looks among his minions with a grim bearded countenance
and piercing beady eyes with a distinct grimace of utter revulsion.

As the full moon rises and arches in the evening sky . . .
Reygus Hameltus menacingly stands by.

Once a famous devout and humble priest of medieval times,
he was a biblical scholar and factotum of great intellectuality.
His walk and conversion to the dark side 
mirrored his frustration with God himself;
Reygus Hameltus felt that God had deserted him 
and no longer cared to listen to him.
With this . . . and losing faith
he turned to the Devil, the ultimate corrupter of the human soul.    

As the full moon rises and arches in the evening sky . . .
Reygus Hameltus menacingly stands by.

As Reygus Hameltus assumed his apostleship in evil,
every ounce of goodness and spiritual greatness 
left his body and soul in good measure.
He murdered and raped, cajoled and lied,
and brought deception and reeked destruction 
on all who crossed his path and his disciples no less.

As the full moon rises and arches in the evening sky . . .
Reygus Hameltus menacingly stands by.

But it should be said that all evil one day runs its course.
And when the good people of Montserrat fought back and answered in kind . . .
Monseigneur Reygus Hameltus — black arts sorcerer and his witches’ coven
suffered the eternal vengeance and wrath of God 
and were banished to the Devil’s Kingdom forever—faraway from mankind!

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved - August 13, 2014
(Free Verse)

Diagnosis Sorcerer Phil-Ofa-Lies

Hearing God's voice doesn't make you crazy disobeying it does Lord they are throwing the 
baby out and drinking the bath water Commanded us to hearken to your voice it is written 
warning of false doctors or teachers thier doctrine sorceries that turn men from thee you 
said beware and now aware must warn others of false laree the diagnosis sorcery the cure in 
need of repentance God is not a schizophrenic nor does he forget who he is propaganda 
leads men's hearts astray like plop and fizz they made it an art taking something that works 
to decieve men again God's not schizophrenic but your doctors self diagnosis maybe 
Witchcraft has come along way from Egypt to jezebel spirits from sigmund freud's 
fraudulences Carl Jungs junk and Adler's idle tales unholy trinity No I will not sign my name 
fraud nor try to cause others pain applause sign applause To hearken unto God or men you 
decide for by their sorceries they lie they of the their father the Big lie and friends for drugs 
will only awaken a false god within for you see or if you yet will God is our creator not 
entheogen this is your brain on sorcery See Jesus the great Physician first about your 
doctors second opinion David L. Roshenhan's experiment proof something aloof recorded 
and admitted unless you admit your as crazy as they are you may stay committed taking 
their subcribes but before it was prescribed Get the hence in the name of Jesus Christ be ye 
healed in his name If not you my end up with what's up doc. Dr. LSD  turned off tuned out 
dropped somewhere Timothy Leary as you watch snake oil salesmen on TV the gaper 
dancer's with wafers tunes with Warning Labels side effects could kill you before you take a 
pill red or blue read the Good Book  Facts doctors kill more than guns and war check again 
or you may end up with one with out a degree like Aliester crowley for you see the right 
diagnosis from the Great Physician will save your life One wrong diagnosis from 100 doctors 
is still deadly or read On being sane in insane place please remember If you would only try 
to touch his hem So get a check-up from Jesus that will bind up the broken hearts and set 
you free
© John Beam  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Sorcerer's First Time

At your first touch, I was mesmerized
A Captive was born before your eyes
Magic was passed through me It's true
Our loins stirred as our passion grew

Never before had I felt this lust
In darkness, every touch left skin flush
Sensations heightened beyond compare
of the rest of the world, I remained unaware

Before this Not once had I looked at you
But now in dark my gaze yours thru and thru
What mystical force had seduction unleashed?
Carnivorous forces turned into beasts

Once begun there is no retreat
Climax on climax or heat upon heat?
When it was over in my mind chaos calmed
The clock began ticking the deed has been done

Sanity tells me run now before it's too late.
But preserve the moment, hold onto it,
latch tight your mind gate
For now,  THE SORCEROR HAS A HAND IN YOUR FATE


written for Cody Lee


Serius, the Syrian Sorcerer

Serius, Arch Nemisis of such bliss
that you woulodn't know to miss
the beating of your heart inside 
or the doors of hades swinging wide

and the gentlest carresses of the dragons tongue
leaving traces of sulphourous flaming nether-dung
'pon your head, though had you read, you'd know
the stygain darkling doors near, creaking woe

serius, enchanting stalwart scoin of royal lineage, going back to hell
from which, i swear, my oldest ansestral memory, is of that day i fell
from heavens trumpt up majesty, through a very vale of tears
to land here among these people, and their many lovely lively fears

an eye i wiped, and without an upward glance
i set about to make the best, of my every chance
to find employers fit for me, apprentise as i was back then
to try to fit in with this crowd, so evil was this race of men

gently, trepidations palpitate, this cavern of flame within my chest
i wandered to and fro, trying my levelest best
to figure out how to compete, with Adams vicious broods
still on my guard, still atremble, they have such moods

to and fro, yet still i go
aworried and afrighted, don't you know
i kneel and pray, to God above, for His grace
trapped in this so beknighted place

often

to and fro, to and fro

Premium Member The Sorcerer

After imbibing the humbling blend
Constituting the mystical knowledge
And the techniques of martial art 
Dr Strange awakened his third eye
Became a powerful sorcerer.

He derived his supernatural power
From the energy of the universe
Acquiring high level of mastery
Over magic to shape and manipulate
Tangible concept of energy as mystic artifacts.

He could also cast numinous spells
By the entrancing miraculous mechanism
Of the specific formula of destruction
With the obtained fiery energy  
He was capable to incapacitate his enemy.

Against Dracula, the emperor of the undead
Dr Strange, the supreme sorcerer
Applied the Montesi formula
Destroying the vampires by spell that broke
Reviving them for the clash to continue.

________________

August 31, 2022
Contest : Doctor Strange Spells
Sponsored by : Robert James Liguori

Premium Member Sorcerer's Doom

Deep inside where shadows lounge
True love was lost no magic found
That fleeting thought run now it's not too late
Never fathoming his deceptions so great

The magic once encompassing both
not knowing how far afield he'd go
One content with passions flash
The other forever chasing **ASS**

Both now knowing somethings not right
Could it have been his continual lies?
Trust in her he failed to do
That lack of such - he respected few

Passions dimmed and flames went away
Both responsible for the path they lay
Question, curse, fight till dawn
The demons inside released for none

The trick to regain the Sorcerer's touch
So simple even wee people would gush
Stop seeking that which you should not attain
The searching causes both great pain

Be humble and love that one you have
Or all for naught be forever sad
Stop looking seeking far afield away
Or else true love will fade away.


The Sorcerer and the Stone

Dry tangle of strands like leaves of a pine.
Neck-long sable yet lemon to close a beaming line.

Decked by two sharp wan visage processes.
Shut some-screened eyes and jaw- high and breadthless.

Dangling armor is woven garb of chains.
Bony hands impose his thin scrawny mien.

Spread them down to ignite an incipient
Of electric qeues like sunspot lightning

Toward a floating smooth stone before him.
Struck bouy makes a devious glow as his grin.

Growing fulgence throbbing to explosion
in lieu he is sucked like dusts by the stone.

The Street Sorcerer

In front of a shop at the corner of the street
A bearded man appeared with his assistant
With meagre belongings and a magic wand
Pleaded with passersby, to spare few seconds.
 
Then he called a little boy from the crowd
And asked him to sit in front of the basket
Commanded to wish an article he desired
Promised to fulfill his wish in an instant.

The boy, a little vacillating and frightened
Wished for a TV and whiskey out of fun
And the sorcerer moved his magic wand
And lo! The articles appeared from thin air.
 
He further showed a movie on the TV set
Viewers were aghast with his magic show
The crowd was impressed with his sorcery
Wondered all the while in sheer enjoyment.

The show defied all logic and reasoning
Leaving the spectators totally bewildered
While the crowd still stood there amazed
The sorcerer left quietly with his tiny load.
.

Rant of a Sorcerer

No more
Maybe I don't know what I'm doing anymore
I've been passed a game winning catch
or so the lecture says
or so circumstances provide me to believe
yet I stand still, a statue
a figurehead of nothing
I stand still, mortified
before I just toss the ball away
before I throw the pass away
Somewhere inbetween I knew it before i said it
I'm done...I'm done with all this
I'm done with life
I'm done with keeping my head held high
I'm done with pretending I'm alright
the perfect picture of healthy sanity
when I just want to drive my head through 19 cinderblocks 
to forget the wasted 19 years of my life
when I just want to punch 19 people square in the face
till the bones in my arms explode
for all the times they let me down
left me ignorant
when I want to curl up in a ball
and freeze into an ice cube in the dark
Maybe in a thousand years I will get life right
in the present I'm the living essence of failure
My luck is getting worse
What luck did I have to begin with 
My will to fight on
is replaced by my growing hate of myself, of humanity
so like an atom I implode
leaving myself pitifully exposed
while my deceased relatives are crying over me 
cause I'm missing something while waiting for anyone
to recollect what they've neglected to share
NI just feel like I've been mislead my whole life
and I just want to feel any sort of better
I've had to reconstruct myself
redo my name to fit my life just right
I'm at 19
19 names for the 19 painful names I've lived
now I can add Sorcerer to the list
though I die at the thought
I could blame Veronica
She kept throwing my words back at me
She kept misleading my ways of romance for magic
claiming what I am to her what Sarah is to me
And that kills me the most
what stabs the heart beneath
How can one accept that the very person 
you have waited your whole life for
is the very same person you hate, despise
wish you could just hit one good time
the very same person you love, cherish, want forever
the very one person you can never obtain
is the very same person you have very well become
If I am a Sorcerer
am I everything evil too
or just everything to the oblivion I belong to?

Sorcerer

Well and I can see you clearly in my astro 
sleep state my third eye is wide awake so
you better tread carefully and save your desire
for me only or I will turn you into a worthless
cornsnake 'cuz one way or another it's us
forever...a submissive slave or a perpetual
lover you can't break the spell I have you
under and my every command will be your
will be your every determination with the
slightest wave of my hand...so I'm warning
you while you are out and about tonight
you better watch yourself 'cuz I'm watching
you and even though your star shines so
bright I hold the keys to your destiny and
you will be mine forever…never underestimate
the power of the Sorcerer...I hold the keys to 
your destiny...so mote it be!
© Bo Lanier  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Many Feared Merlin

Merlin had a way that turned into animal attraction
This often led him into a natural kind of satisfaction
Creatures sensed his cleverness and his stealth
He often fixed a wing or nursed them back to health

His magic was well known in the woods beyond the veil
He had a psychic sixth sense that did not often pale
Humans feared his unnatural confidence and spiritual way.
They often turned and scampered off when he began to play.

He was childlike, not childish, a magician with a keen eye.
He often saw what would happen to humans bye and bye.
Merlin had mystical powers, honed by him so true.
Many were fearful of his ethereal spirit and aura of royal blue.

Dear Sorcerer

We lay,
	Firmly rooted
	And reach our pale faces 
	To the late day sun.

	We grow twisted around the rails
	And defeat our own purpose…
	To catch the late day sun.

	We have been ignored.
	Our search for water, 
	Has lead to dusty tears,
	After another late day sun.

	A little more
	And we’ll reach around your room.
	We’ll twist around your door and open it…
	To the early day sun.

				Sincerely,
					Twisted Hearts

Premium Member The Sorcerer of the Moment

He takes the largest ladle he can find
And stirs them around and around
clunking their heads together
Scrambling their brains, 
Making them angry
And he laughs

He is the sorcerer of the moment
popular with his followers
who revere him
because of the fear
that if they do not
he will turn and they will become
the sorrowful, the left behind, the unchosen ones

He throws in dashes of anger and dollops of grief
He is the master of manipulation, 
There is no escape 
Others have tried to get close enough
to toss in enthusiasm, love and hope.
But alas, he is stronger because of the numbers
who chase him, trying to be the chosen one.
He spits into the fray, frightening them just a tiny bit more.

Premium Member Guitar Sorcerer

He steps into moonlight, strings ablaze,  
A spell-bound master in a midnight haze.  
Notes crack like lightning, dark flames rise,  
Echoes twisting through spectral skies.  

From covens deep and forests old,  
He forged a sound both fierce and bold.  
A serpent’s hiss, a banshee’s wail,  
His fingers dance—an eerie tale.  

The runes he carved upon the fret,  
Summon storms not soon forget.  
A single chord—a whispered curse,  
Reality bends, the heavens burst.  

Shadows coil around his hands,  
Summoned forth from haunted lands.  
Specters hum, the witches chant,  
A melody none dare recant.  

Blackened sparks upon the strings,  
Woven spells in trembling things.  
A tremolo dark, a sorcery wild,  
A lullaby sung by the moon’s lost child.  

Thunder answers every shred,  
Winds obey the notes he bled.  
A final wail—a spectral end,  
And silence bows to music’s bend.

The Sorcerer and the Apple

Hearken well,
As I commence to tell
This tale of the apple that fell
From a tree I believed from Hell:

Black I wore on this sunny day,
Similar to all my other days
When the Sun went away
I Lost all faith,
Thus lost my way.
Where my integrity went, no one says.
I Walked into a dark forest,
A maze,
On a night with no moon and no face,
I gazed at the gates
Not afraid, but rather amazed.

Me, myself, and I,
On this blackest of nights,
Walking in this forest of frights,
Without any shining light,
Blinded by self-stupidity,
A stark, blinding dark,
The beast's, who shall be named Anger, barks,
My bullying ego and my absent heart,
My sanity and humanity, were way too far,
You see I was helpless from the start.

When everything "seemed", or so to speak, wrong,
And hope was long gone,
Without a spawn
An apple came along,
I was no longer alone:

This apple gave me eyes,
In many ways made me wise
This apple offered light;
It defined beauty,
In color, shape, and size.
'twas a precious surprise.

But then came a time,
Again, I became blind,
Only with a stupidity, quite sublime,
So here came the crime:
I was succumbed by hunger and greed,
Needed to feed my needs,
My desire:
To eat the whole fruit but the seeds,
I devoured it,
Indeed I did.

What a waste, such a life,
Such a pity,
One True Lie,
I sliced the apple in slices with my knife.
That which represents my insolence and pride.

If only I had left Hubris by the tree,
Withholding Anger in his leash, next to me,
Then I wouldn't have agreed
To walk right beside Glee,
Sadly, I was weak,
As you can see,
My tolerance limited to short degree.

Here I am,
I see dark,
I see not.
Hear the lamb,
The one I'll sacrifice
To get my apple back.

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