Long Bewitched Poems
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You Live in a Fantasy World 12-4-24
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Fairy Fantasy
Come, my friend! Come dance with me
In the flutter of fairy wings.
Waltz in the stardust above the trees
Casting spells in magic rings!
Sway in time with the sunflower
Then ride on wings of reveries -
Twirling magic of flower power
Aerial ballets, so free.
Come, dear friend! Come sing with me
Enchanted chants of songs bewitched
In blue modes of moonstone melodies
Spellbound rhymes in perfect pitch
That spin sweet dreams for lullabies,
Chant ambrosias of the bees,
From our secret garden refrains fly
Fairy songs of fantasies.
Taunt me to madness
haunting my dreams
sending loves sadness
as meeting eyes gleamed
Travel your path
I’m watching from here
I cant get closer
and its not just fear
The light you shine
from inside of truth
burns my body
down to its roots
Visions bright
scorching my mind
find the paths
into reaches of time
Whirlwinds of lust
twirling my nights
bewitched to darkness
my sheerest of fights
Senses alerted
body stirred in life
melting of feelings
into minds strife
Poured into worlds
untamed and unseemly
dark is this soul
this evil blasphemes
Beloved to deafness
embracing my screams
drowning his captive
crushing my dreams
My alter ego writes these ones (Isis) ...
- 252 - fireflies -
phantasy times dream
luminous in the pitch dark -
does not charge in rain…
- 253 - luna -
bewitched by moonlight
it doesn't attack anyone -
loyal companion
- 254 -"trolltunga"
troll's tongue -
walks on the troll's tongue
a spectacular landscape
accept the challenge
- 255 -by sunshine -
huge cushioned mountains
snow shine in the eyelashes -
the soul's strings resting
- 256- frozen lake -
winter on water
transparent freezing of ice -
warm gray woolen socks
- 257 - survives -
off the beaten track
the river behind the barn -
small trees defiant
- 258 - winter sunset -
on heaven's canvas
watch the fire between portals -
blushing with beauty
- 259 - strength -
any type of rose
reaching for heavenly dreams -
the name doesn't matter
- 260 - almost untouched -
a dear place to live
this vibrant winter landscape -
time for enjoyment
- 261 - proximity -
an edge of the sky
the mind's silent guardians -
with life giving warmth
- 262 - forest elf -
before the midnight
wings glistening in dew pearls -
grew up in forest
- 263 - majestic -
bold as foaming waves
watch the sea with eagle eyes -
binocular view
- 264 - frozen -
nature's ice sculptures
an ephemeral beauty -
spirit of winter
- 265 - no chicken feet -
a steaming sauna
enjoy dip in the cold pool -
with resting heart rate
- 266- off and on -
strange whims of winter
thoughts of spring are comforting -
the old winter coat
- 267 - dazzling -
vibrant sunset fades
inevitable twilight -
the night silhouettes
- 268 - snow kiss -
the snowfall of grace
soft touch with a tender kiss -
mercy set me free
- 269 - landscape -
twilight light reflects
on the snow covered mountains -
air is fresh and crisp
26.01.2023
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
They journeyed through the woods
Over the mountains and hills
The book spoke about them
It said nothing about their adventure
It said nothing about their sojourn
To retrieve the lost chalice
Mysteriously stolen
Enchanted and bewitched
It had brought calamities
and havoc on the land
Strange things had befallen them
Anguish and apparition clouded each day
The chalice sat in a
chamber in the palace
Guarded by the dark Knights,
Mornings and nights
they guarded in turns
These knights were chosen by the sage
They were blessed with an unusual gift
They could see beyond human's sight,
To take an unusual fight.
The chalice left its chamber
Before dawn on a day in November
It was a huge surprise
An unprecedented event
The wise one went into a trance
He transcended to heights he rarely did
This almost took him completely away
He saw everything that happened
When the chalice was stolen
and where it had gone
An act of sorcery of the deepest order
The knights fought relentlessly
They wielded their swords fearlessly
They encountered eerie monsters
Some were like giant lobsters
They fought and prevailed
It was a brave travail
The chalice was held in a mystical field
Spinning and reverberating
They could not near or touch it
It pierced their minds and souls
They spoke those words
The ones only they could utter
Written in the book
The enchantment was dispelled
The chalice fell into their hands
They returned to their land
They had gone for a fortnight
It was great joy and
celebration in their country
They were honoured by the king
They drank from the chalice
Except for the king
Only brave knights could drink from it
Their names were written in
the Chronicles of the Knights
The sage wrote their names in the book
He was honoured to keep the book
Kept only in the king's secret chamber.
January 13, 2023.
Metrical Tale Cash Prize Poetry Contest,
Hilo Poet.
I thought I had seen her face,
And looked again in the direction of the milk store,
There was our Angela ‘Andee’:
An empty shell of the previous girl
Who had bewitched our juvenile eyes
And spun our little heads in a twirl.
I had thought beauty to be everlasting,
That age blurred it a bit but still spared it;
That time stole its fraction but left the rest untouched;
Yet my eyes now proved me wrong.
There stood the legendary Angela,
Her skin ashen pale and fingers the size of a tong.
What had become of her rounded eyes
That lit our lessons from class one to eight?
Her bum and her butt,
Those days her treasure stores,
Had gone with age or disease or both,
Or perhaps to the rigors of manual chores.
Now I know that mundane beauties flee,
That the glitter of yesterday may run absent today.
I learnt that temporal glories,
Just like Angela’s fabled beauty,
May at once vanish with the wind.
I trust not a thing of the world,
All its illusory vanities I now must rescind.
This same phenomenon amply explains
Why tombs lie where good mortals stood.
And this reminds me of my colossal loss
Of treasured kins and long-time chums.
The present shows so that the future may take
At a faster rate, and in larger sums.
So our once-upon-a-time Angela shook my hand
And I cupped it in my unbelieving own,
My eyes surveying the mauling
Meted on her by the ravages of time.
Why had nature chosen to trick her?
I wondered aloud as I went home to write this rhyme;
To tell the story of one Angela Andee
Whose wear had doubly dazzled me.
Flowing out
breath be rushed
floated lungs,
unmasked and feted
break and shaking
these last nows,
future endeavored
crawls crevices,
like a streetwalker
flaunts
Tempted dreams of
cannot sees,
rainbows in the wind
they beckon soulful,
but,
hungry for life
in this ravenous
knowing,
someday will end,
a madness of dreams,
haunts of
white Lilllie’s and roses,
trees will sway
tempo to winds journey,
nights
forever evolving,
bewitched magic for poets,
trains travel
nights midnight express,
dancing couples
will falling love
swirl to life,
children forever
ever loved,
but spirit
soars
with ever-after
seared eternity
Future forward
time heeded,
wrung lifeblood
to drop
till ,
graced in peace
departed
and greeting destiny,
whatever may
begin or begone,
mystery is awaiting
in graced piece’s
As the last petal falls
upon trembling twigs,
and the heart withers,
like nocturnal stars
weeping in a casket~
of ice-laced sepals,
soaked in searing silence,
cloaked in thistles of nothingness,
let Cleopatra’s amulets
dress your blurred horizon,
embroidered with
empty promises.
I wear our forbidden love
like a bleeding epitaph,
inscribed with
gusts of grief
and twisted tendrils,
emanating memories of us~
a mystical reflection of
how once we danced
like daffodils sipping
spiced gold magic
while the satanic sun
burned the flickering
flames of felicity within twin souls,
weaving poetic pansies
across the symphonic sky,
brushed with Sahara crystals,
unfolding a canopy of unbreakable
c o m p a s s i o n ...
O beloved black dahlia,
if I could, I would
fetch you the moon on a spoon,
steal the galaxies~
wrap them in
supernova serenity.
I’ll paint lakes of longing
with opalescent silver,
sculpt Swarovski swans
glazed in iridescent bliss,
tempting the alluring twilight
to drizzle aurora threads
across mysterious silhouettes,
engrossed in
an ethereal orchestra.
But if tomorrow
these words weigh little
less than the dreams
we’ve dreamed in stillness,
remember my soul is tied
to your rain-kissed metaphors,
and even if rhymes cannot
fix what’s undone,
these verses ache
to cleanse every stain
left within lifeless leaflets.
For no shift in season
could veil the vibrancy of vermilion
still rushing through these veins,
singing your name
in scarred cadence,
resting my quivering quill on
the cusp of the cursed springs,
as I embrace darkness before
the dawning of dulcet wings,
to lure you back
to the land of timeless trinkets,
a lachrymose lament~
romanticized as the requiem
for bewitched orchards...
Some say I am bewitched
Others believe that I am cursed
Many think I have gone mad
But what they don't know is that I am mentally ill.
I did not choose to be this way
And I did not ask for this
Neither did I wish to be like this
It just came to me just as it might come to you
It makes me see things others don't see
It makes me hear voices others don't hear
At times I become so aggressive that i just want to fight
At times I become so depressed that i just want to be alone.
People have developed fear towards me
While others make fun of it
Some lock me up because they say I am an embarrassment
Only few understand me
My wife I have lost
That even my family have distanced themselves
Because they say I am crazy
They say I have lost my mind...
But what they don't know is that i am mentally ill
And all I ask for is support
With tolerance as my need
To bear with me for I am still a human being.
Anchors Aweigh...
destination unknown
for this Earthling
stardate: February 26th, 2022
At sea since time immemorial
I relish being alone
upon oceanic expanse
yours truly doth bemoan
me gal Sal (one among
numerous female confidantes),
no matter, she easily
mistaken as a crone
magical powers keep
her manning far aloft drone
as surveillance hovers above me
(to intercept encrypted
communication maintained
courtesy bluetooth earphone)
the two of us sol survivors
I feel like a foreigner since
global thermonuclear war
bombed webbed wide world
into pulverized power
vaguely similar landscape
to age of Fred Flintstone
and Barney Rubble
recurring memories redolent
of yesteryear, whereby I groan
though simple living
such as me and the missus
did Potschke coaxing homegrown
organic fruits and vegetables,
though, I attest we did
get violently angry with each other
and unwittingly cross interzone
where brickbats exchanged,
especially after she discovered
an illicit extramarital affair
between myself and Joan
since kindergarten her I known.
Weather beaten cap'n,
and watertight bewitched craft
time tested since maiden voyage
(circumnavigating the globe
back in the day of my youth),
I ranked tough as a pitbull,
when severely pitted
against raw elements
of swiftly tailored,
harried stylish nature
against leathery faced
reptilian skin, hard drinking
(actually as corked
poetic convenience - vermouth
arbitrary bottle of choice
if for no other reason,
than to rhyme
with the above line),
and tobacco spitting, while
colorfully swearing as an uncouth
Furies (of Agamemnon)
fighting (tooth
and nail) Pirate,
where rickets, scurvy,
and thrice unconscious,
currently ample proof
could not forsooth
bring me to Davy Jones's locker,
cuz I never wanna
get relegated to an underwater
whale schooled booth,
this raconteur can nonchalantly,
glibly, and blithely attest,
with braggadocio, despite
no warm welcome will
ever greet mine tinnitus
pained ears, I can plainly
imagine acrimonious retort
upon me behest
his far more'n lifetime
bobbing (like a sponge)
square pants float
buoyed atop crest longing e'en for
(carping, caviling, hen pecking,
or shrewish) wife.
In the Twilight of the Nation's Pride
Jesus! Where will it end? How low must one descend
In this country to become President?
How many masks must be worn, how many truths must bend,
In the quest for the throne, amidst the flames of burning desire?
In this land of endless dreams and fractured hopes,
Where stars and stripes are tainted with whispered lies,
How deep must one dig, on the slope of morality,
To ascend to the heights where the eagle's flight is bewitched?
Through corridors of silver tongues and gilded halls,
Where echoes of unfulfilled promises persist,
How far must one crawl, scaling the crumbling walls,
Of the fortress of integrity, in the insistent political mist?
Oh, the twilight of the nation’s soul, caught in twilight’s embrace,
Where ideals are traded and freedoms bruised,
How low must one stoop, to chase the grace
Of power's shimmering shadow, endlessly pursued?
The crown of ambition, adorned with thorns of deceit,
Weighs heavily on the heads of those who seek the light,
How many dreams must be shattered beneath the conqueror's feet,
In the race for glory that dissipates only in the night?
In this theater of aspirations, where actors play their part,
And the stage is set with the fabric of shattered trust,
How low must one bow, with a heavy heart,
In the dance for the crown, in the whirlwind of cloaked ambition dust?
Beneath eloquent words and grandiose claims,
Lies a river of sorrow, a tide of silent cries,
How deep must one plunge into the land of lost names,
To grasp the scepter that in illusion lies?
In the halls where history weeps and futures are forged,
How low does the spirit sink, how dark does the heart grow,
Before the dawn of reason, over the horizon is gorged,
With the hope of a nation, in the winds that blow?
Jesus! Where does it end, this descent through fire and ice?
In the land of the brave, where the noble dream wanders,
How low must one stoop, at what ultimate price,
For the promise of power, in the land of dismayed days?