Long Sorcery Poems

Rosalia - The Evil Black Witch of the Harz, Part Seven

The Final Days:  Rosalia’s Death and Destruction
In the wake of such evil, debauchery and depravity what can be said now in the case of...

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Rosalia - The Evil Black Witch of the Harz, Part Two

Rosalia’s Instruments of Evil and Debauchery
Rosalia needed certain tools or instruments of evil and debauchery to successfully pursue her nefandous plans of bringing the people...

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Fascism lives in tension with holy optimism,
as hatred fades in presence of mutual love,
as WinLose evolutionary models
give way to WinWin sacred Energy
stories and songs and dances,
as patriarchal colonization
gives way to matriarchal creolization.

Fascism,
synonymous with Totalitarianism,
as written...

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Of new pains new verses must be composed 
To give matter for the canto twenty
Of the canticle first, treating sunk posed.

I just was inclined with desires many
To thoroughly look at the open deep,
Which was moisten...

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1
Though still within our infancy, 
we strive to thrive, but woefully 
we flash and flaunt our 'primacy',
display our trophies pridefully.
 
Our terra firma ecstasy
destroys survival's harmony,
lays waste to life on land and sea.
Mankind, thy name...

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Twice the night had fallen upon a sleepless slumber,
Yet again awoken by winter when the third was three in number.

I sense that a silence doth sneak ‘tween cracks of weathered wood,
Conniving with that which shadows...

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Once the night had fallen upon a sleepless slumber,
Whence the winter woke me when the third was three in number.

I sense that a wince doth lurk and wear which wicked gaze,
Of conniving shadows cast between...

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Rosalia - The Evil Black Witch of the Harz, Part Three

Vespers’ Prayer Preparation for Black Mass
In preparation for the ritual Black Mass at midnight, Rosalia recites the following prayer incantation which must be rendered latest...

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Rosalia - The Evil Black Witch of the Harz

Prologue
This is a rather grim epic poetic tale of Rosalia, a 16th century German witch who terrorized villages, destroyed the lives and corrupted the souls of many...

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"The White Lady of Skipsea"


Last night I dreamt 
I dreamed of you
a kind of dream 
within a dream

Diaphanous, 
my soul escaped, 
this firmament,
my immaculate heart
held hands, my fingers 
did entwine with 
handsome Morpheus

Crystal radiate
twin gossamer...

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Thrice the night—the day!—both fell to sleepless slumber,
But now in Spring, though yet again: The third was three in number. 

I sense a wince remind itself,
Of what it means to be,
Instead to beg for booked...

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As I ascend the podium, a predator of piquant pontifications, my eyes ravage the assemblage of adversaries, their countenances a canvas of consternation and morbid fascination. The atmosphere is heavy with the miasma of malignant...

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A wince doth lurk wearing which wicked gaze,
Of conniving cast shadows ‘tween my windowpanes.

Gazing through the window’s diaphanous gelid glass, 
I see a flushing fluorescent misty haze of frothy brass.

It floats aloft the frost of...

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I feel as lame as a whale without its fins to swim in fine waters
Blue blasphemy break a spirit of slumberless insanity that rips up my poetic loves, likes, unlikes and hates
Debates on TV…flee from...

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“Beloved Femme Fatale”


Musk and Neroli satin skin spoons
Naked feet ‘neath The Pillars of Petra
She towers majestic above you, colours your grey skies
You are worshipping her on your knees
What does it matter, anymore? Before your eyes,...

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Frice the week along with night had fallen to sleepless slumber,
Trapped again 'tween times when thirds are three in number.

I sense a grimace gurgle in these halls of boned wall,
The aching whims and shaking limbs:...

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{"-Every second of my life in which I cherish, So that I will never burden myself with the thought of you, I try so hard to cope with the idea of straying yourself away from...

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Upon My Bed!
 A message and A dream are heard around the heavenly and earthly worlds. So I wrote it in my heart it is written in my sleep to the real world the bed...

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All things that glow and move,
all things that change and pass,
I gather their delight
as in a burning-glass;
Judith Wright

The Queen's Conjurer
1.
'Given to magic and uncanny arts'
'Art mathematical' to make strange works
 Genius of movement artificial
Mechanical scarab...

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Let the drums beat until it release the number sheet
Let the drums beat until it rip out my heart's seat
Let the drums beat until blood spill in the street
Let the drums beat until justice is...

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The delegation arrives in a procession of handsome, barbaric lineage
rugged in animal accoutrements and subdued in the presence of the future's skin,
the women, fine in wild beauty are bejeweled in beads, white and blues
that accent...

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We came not for conquest,
but for containment—
though conquest is what happens
when containment itches beneath the skin
like sulfur spores in a sealed lung.

They had the secret.
Not gold, not weapons, not prophecy—
but language that healed.
Real language—
not poetry,...

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In the copper-clad cradle of time
where gears whir fugues to forgotten dreams.....
the fog—a somnolent specter—drifts.....
veiling the calculus of progress
a manuscript etched by steam and soot.

Hark The hiss of pistons proclaims
a triumph—or perhaps a dirge—
for we...

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“As God’s spark ensouling organic form,
I am that presence which cannot be named,
felt within as a magnetic bliss storm,
divine pulsation that cannot be tamed,
gentled by His touch, within body framed.
I am that which transcends both...

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ABIGAIL BAFFOUR KUSI,my love...
It seems to be like living without sorrow after experiencing hurricane-Florence,
Pain many thought you could not stand within a deadly province,
Today proves that your existence originates from core relevance.
The utmost concept that...

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