Magic. Poems - Poems about Magic.

I bit the ampule hard enough to cut my tongue. I let the splinters rake a penance against my frenum for months. It won't change the trajectory all at once—nothing does. ...

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Within the thick rainforest’s living light, where leaves shimmer with soft emerald light, there lives a creature no one has seen, Luminara, the secret of the night. Its skin is like liquid moonlight, cool and smooth, tracing patterns only the night knows. Its wings unfold like glass petals, translucent, catching every glimmer of the forest’s glow. It moves without a sound, a flicker of...

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rich emerald fields vast swathes of three leaf clovers ~ sweeping irish luck ...

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The magician wore my mother’s perfume and conjured family from thin air— a brother renamed uncle, a wife recast as mother, a daughter vanishing behind a tale of bees. Each sleight of hand was tender— a hush, a smile, a bowl of soup cooling on the Formica while the truth was sawed in half and tucked beneath the linoleum. No one told me why my “uncle”...

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There is something just so incredibly magical about nighttime. The quiet hours and the dark sky by the moon made sublime. Whispered words travel through the gloomy atmosphere, Nothing is more real than a nighttime word, a sigh, a tear. The night, with its black cloak and soft embrace, shields us from it all And it allows us to...

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I never said the fish was that big, just long enough for your surprise. Yes, the sky did fall down once - though not in ways you've come upon. The art of the little white lie is a Trojan horse disguised to catch your attention. To trick you to pose or question what you'd never otherwise ask. The lie, error or mistake, flips the mind...

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cannibalism . . . stop looking at me like that . . . religion of love . . ....

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With a hitch in my get-along which set me wrong my get-up-and-go is sadly misplaced it done got up and went cannot be traced it's really too tragic my mojo is spent I need someone who versed in voodoo will weave their magic do some hoodoo come through with the juju who'll hand me an amulet give me a charm which won't go amiss so I draw no harm with a little...

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This poem is featured on YouTube (The Convergence point with Dr. Ivan Edwards), bringing its words to life through spoken expression. A gas station on the edge of the city, Neon lights buzzing in the night, graffiti scrawled across walls, the hum of distant traffic our backdrop. The place was nothing special,...

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The way it happened I had to fight for the leprechaun’s love every day. If it wasn’t loved it would name call. So had to be on alert all time. I could see him corner of my eye just watching me. If it fell out with me it would shout. It had money and was giving me none. Just to...

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in his sunset years he daily traversed a mile to smile waiting w a t c h i n g A L E R T the lilt of phantomic voice to O P E N his ...

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happiness is F—R—E—E when shared t ...

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As you walk down the dirt path, past the tall green trees, I hope you remember who you are when you reach the willow tree. You will inevitably get lost, confused in the woods, struggling to find your way to the willow. When the light dims, the whoos and coos of owls and other nameless creatures will hymn in your...

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One evening, BB and I sat on the couch, We talked about many topics including black magic. The voodoo, curses and dirty tricks. You were calm and listening, When I told you I was born With some basic strange energy. Premonitions and having visions were some. Able to predict what happened next was another. I never want to be trained, or became...

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