Ritual Poems - Poems about Ritual

Spring Ritual Stark naked feminists join hands and dance exuberantly on a verdant hilltop leaping round about in step beneath an enlightened blue sky to commemorate Spring’s arrival and the emancipation of women....

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An Ice Fishing House, Abandoned, in Need of Repair That same shed waits by the trees. Waits on its skids for the lake to freeze, and the for the creaking joints of bickering stoop-shouldered men as they push it out to the center of a pool of glass. It houses the stories of fishing in winter, pulling sustenance, wriggling, through chiseled portals into another...

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Actor's Guild of ritual 'arts' Secret ritual Oaths exchanged for luxurious material lives Outward behaviour, manners; betraying what they really are and of course what they hide, Though if it were not so hidden in Plain Sight, We would not have seen what they always were, The Fickle mob shall not know a bloody thing, Unecessarily...

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After the fourth day of a full moonlit night In the month of Kartick arrives the festival of Karva Chauth A ritual to the testament of love and devotion Amongst married Hindu couples. The wife has kept fast since sunrise For the longevity and health of her husband All decked up in her finery and bejeweled Matching the stars in...

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What twisted minds we have! Fascinated by dark ritual, sacrifice of human blood to call black magic to our aid. Alluring secret knowledge, perilous complexities; attempting to control the supernatural. How can this make sense anymore? Two thousand years ago, the Divine bled itself for us, granted us power despite our unworthiness and ignorance. Freely given, and open to the light. A ritual beyond our wildest dreams. So condescendant, the...

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April 6—Beverage, libation, liquid… Daily Ritual Drinks Drink in the morning I drink a cup of snarling hot coffee while watching the news. in the afternoon I shift to tea either earl gray or herbal tea. a day without Earl Gray is not a good day. at sunset I drink red wine with my wife. as the evening shifts into night I drink rum or whiskey. to eat the day right. ...

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The Vessel pt. 2 - Leviæthan I 'neath the grim pallor of a Plutonian moon, Sheltered in the cloak of Phantom's embrace, A tempest rages within flesh— entombed, Ash and soot caress expressionless...

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(Cue the morning sun gleaming through the pale white blinds, your eyes open) Wake up, silly. -Hey. It’s nice to see you mister. -What? don’t you mean morning sweet heart? -GOOD MORNING, *pause* *stares in spanish* -sweetheart. Right. (They smile) -you’re silly you know that? Yeah, but did you know I have two hands, and you have two...

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DAILY RITUAL A dripping body Stepping out of the shower Still good for its age Firm skin with no spots Yet showing some signs of wear Inevitably It’s been sixty years And time now weighs heavily But there’s something left As I take the towel and dry...

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For ages man turns prayer beads, Mind roams the ritual as proceeds, From fingers turning prayer bead, O let your mind lead, not recede. ________________________________ Mala pherata juga bhaya, phira na mana ka pher, Kara ka manaka dara de, mana ka manaka pher. There is no point in chanting mechanically with the help of rosary beads, when the mind is not...

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4 o’clock on a Sunday, shadows skate on cinder block walls. Calico cries crease and fold the still evening air. She pushes a cart, plastic wheels grating warped concrete. Dry dust stains the stones, as she shuffles slippered feet, silent as a snowy alley. The cart parks on the corner of Hill and Nottingham. ...

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I was at the Crossroads of my life. So he said to me "walk and the path shall present itself" and walk barefoot I did and the long Road I took stopping only at the Gate Knives in my pockets to protect the way, Roses as my only garment, black velvet, laughter, and crystal beads... I was at the Crossroads of my life. And forever...

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Place a stone under any banyan tree, Decorate flowers of all sorts around; Apply crimson or sandal-paste or ghee; Hide, to witness, how devotees abound...! Stick-incense smokes spread with nose-drilling scent, Oil-lamps lit, by men and women unknown, Heaps of coins, like hills and peaks, soon ascend, Faces shine, masks of blind faith balloon-blown...! Tent erected; Altar constructed; hymns broadcast, Priests pop up, like...

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As the morning light peers in your window As parallel twines of ray pierce your creamy soft yum Abandoned and pure she reveals her flawless nature She turns and turns more as if to settle some score Legs so proper proportioned stilt and brazen to honor her swaying A hurricane of passion Release her chains Commence the act Succulent sanctuary For a...

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Under the moonlit sky The ripe rose stands majestically deep down she understands that time is upon her once again As the folklore goes with the dark moon she sheds her deep red petals one by one they all fall left bare she stoops hiding the welling tears of losing her precious children once again holding onto hope of having them back soon When the...

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