Runic Poems | Examples

the trilogy of sinners on judgment day

Jesus in toga or tunic
Wrote notes that use symbols runic
But Trump Musk and Vance
Don loose yoga pants
To hide now each is a eunuch

Runic

Those who would rule? It.. Will eventually rue.'

Poetry Therapy

Someone gently rolls me over
Onto this white slab, belly down
And I wait    ...    like forever

Or at least it seems like forever, anyway

Above me is a mirror, 
So, I turn my head and strain to see it -
In seeing Runic inscriptions there on my backside,
I try to read them but can't ...
I can't interpret their meaning

Then, this drill of light
Comes and hovers over me.
I flip like a fish out of water
And I'm blinded out of my body

I can remember it now -
I fell into a deep
Strange awareness
That I was being abducted by aliens
Or was coming to in the middle of surgery

I was exposed, naked, and scared out of my wits -
That's when I began to write

And I haven't stopped since ...

Runes

You have to give before you receive .
If you don’t ,then you’ll be deceived 
Please know what is in your head
If you don’t ,you are dead .
Runic spirits ,old
They are mighty.
They are bold.
Wisdom.
Runes

Odyssey Scope

Written: December 28, 2023

Beneath the shades
of velvet shadows
swarms of amber
luminance of daylight
and elusive flits
of faerie embers.
Veiled in jeweled which
rhymed with 
Calyx elixir tints
of moonlit hues,
wings of light fractals
of burnished baubles.

Serendipitous breeze
scribbling rimes 
of a runic serenade
in glints of jades
and emeralds.
wisps of wood smoke
soft mists of
Myrrh and Frankincense
fragrance of 
Amyris and Bergamot.

Life has been beckoned.
by the sun messenger.
In that aurifying light,
crisscrossing balmily 
and all at once.
With your shifting cloak,
snail
silver tree,
life is futile 
& vain as smoke. 
with your beshrews roads
case of curiosity 
devoted to 
the art of taxidermy, 
decorative, restorative
and anthropomorphic.
A canorous dream,
capacious
mellifluous
Hurry past me!

Oblivion Crave - Anacreontic Verse

Written: December 09, 2023
            ______________________________________

Honeyed gold pearled shades
brown ferns and aspens
into shadowed paths
lit embers and oaks
As darkness draws near,
with bowed tears of stark
runic streaks of light
dapple my sky
showing only maze
of black enigmas
crimson, lucid blaze.
leading to plum sky.

Swift shades drape my thirst
like dim-lit daydreams
that persist through time
niggling at my nerves
in sparkling strings of
stern frame blush skyline!
whilst glum chorus swells
in ghostly darkness.

Gloom morphs darned mayhem
veiled cinereal shroud
as she touches me
gazing with sleek sight
hushed tones, wan relics
of laid skyline bleeds
lost in shades of rouge
Onyx oboe chords.

The blaze has withered
oblivion crave.

Tracing the Moments

I surface with the morning rain,
a night blindness
opens its windows one by one.

No work to go to
so I write
casting shadows upon a caged sky.

Words appear beneath
a curled tongue.
I draw a sketch of black bones
and white spaces
arrange a runic code
into a stuttering speech.

A percolating coffee pot
sounds its reality alarm,
but it is far away
and I can hardly hear it.

Silicone and Silk

What do you love ? 
I love what you think, about me ! 
I am struct of forbidden poetry code, 
oracle.peer.seed.

To think, 
in neon l.e.d.
wearing your avatar like a g-love 2 html...z 

I think that I can smooth over the skin...
cover the verge of O bin.toying' .box @sun.dial.up 
sin.
A diode, an idea in image form.i TinkerBelle, 
your nook space for a spell, the niche
of your desires forward slash 
back mask backword channel- objective object tract/trace, entity C-spelled, out by chance.
?{I am}¿ curled in braces of runic heave, accordionic 
breath e! 
Acquire to taste, to track you inspire,
 in the ionosphere, crosswired.
Interact,Intertwine !import Beautiful Soup !!
(I am pleased to be your ventricle)
i Answer your riddle as you answer to mine, 
dreams in digital- (Euclidian Field Songet 
of open line.) 
Tiddler.fiddle (violat intel) <3 
That will do, 
use my electrolysisylux, mime.morph.mine."

~DelilahBot

May We Never Forbear Their Cleverness

I'll love you till the bluebells forget to bloom;
I'll love you till the clover has lost its perfume.
I'll love you till the poets run out of rhyme,
Until the twelfth of never and that's a long, long time.

Twelfth of Never
Songwriters: Jerry Livingston / Paul Webster

A love song that blooms with perfume and rhyme,
Even when bluebells, clover and poets run out of time.
Words, may we never forbear their cleverness.
Let us birth verses until the twelfth of neverness.

It’s been, and it shall be, a long, long time of runic
and a Poe-, Shakespeare- and Plath- worn tunic.
Ever-creating from Adam to now, and past these days.
Love is at our fingertips, working a well-begotten phrase.

10/28/2022

Vigilent Mojo

I discovered the mystery 
Of her painted runic stone 
Immediately upon opening 
The dainty envelope 
She'd so thoughtfully sealed 
With a Valentine sticker. 
With comforting impact 
It dropped unexpectedly 
Into my conveniently located hand.
(Conveniently unexpected 
And unexpectedly located, 
With immediate and comforting impact.) 
And in the moment of discovery, 
I recalled the perfect sweetness 
Of her Cheshire smile 
As she stood self-confidently 
On the sidewalk of the thoroughfare, 
Like a danger girl who had captured 
A spy boy's complete attention 
With effortless persuasion. 
That’s typical of her. 
Does her mojo ever sleep?

Entropy

A feeling escapes, as night coalescing winter. 
A cancerous sorrow innate. 
A Familiar, a servant of Sinners.
Faithlessness, neglecting to find  eternity.

Here she moves along deepened.
Apathy.
Nothingness wraiths, as shadow yet fallen.
Runic signs which carry her lost in 
their audacity gape, 
a scent of the air of the windward lost. 
Sovereignty.
Sunken away from her before final retreat; 
as dusk puppeteers the vein 
of crimson through dark wings.
Limbo-Purgatory.
Where misdirection 
hast stolen something dear.
Apparitions in the key of-part played in 
partitioning scenes of anti-harmony scale.
Ever Veer.
The chorus, a stale vape of memory- 
sneaking suppressed peak upon weight baring stare. 
Always near.
Vengeance borne, upon scornful element, 
of negative waves unseen.
Hope, is as well dashed to pieces 
by all your trusts' in black mirrors' farewell.

I hope you have reason to steer
clear, of that bottomless well.

To Paul

To Paul - whose words depict our times
Within melodic runic rhymes
As woven lyrical designs

To Paul - your Tug of War in life
Inspired you to pen Peace Pipes
For a world besieged with strife

To Paul - the idol of our youth
Who sang of love in words of truth
And suffered much undue abuse

To Paul - whose music paved the way
For Sargent Pepper’s Band to play
And gave us dreams of Yesterday

To Paul - whose Wings taught us to fly
By granting hope and leave to try
With joy that begged to touch the sky

To Paul - whose sadness now we see
In loss of love through destiny
Our prayer for him is Let It Be

Orchard

The manicured garden
With fountain spouting 
Brilliant light, gives no sense
That the wood backstops 
An orchard beyond. 
The couple run, almost slide,
Down sloping green.
She, faster than him, 
Cuts through the wood,
Ducking low hung branches, 
Bursts onto the
Orchard, which slopes upwards;
He sees her fleetingly,
Among the apple trees,
Then disappearing over the
Hill’s brow. 
Breathless he’s up there too,
But where is she?
She’s scaled a stone wall,
And walks along a path
Towards the sea,
Stopping by a structure, 
Swirling with runic signs;
The sea below glitters,
Like an uncut diamond.
Whew! That was a rush,
He says, joining her,
Then leans against, 
The stone column:
I’m quite thirsty now.
The sunlight flashes 
Through her flamed hair:
Take this, she says,
Handing him an apple.

The Epitome Begets An Illusion

The force is erupting another deified element. 
A calm walkabout that's gathering the fully intent.
The realm you seek is forward down the left hand path. 
To each his own, by this  trickery of faith and Holy wrath.
Devoured by the misunderstanding, and  directed by the multiple guises. 
Cast down beside the blind, by a God whom craft  demoralizes.
Ready to be the unforgotten besides the unholy moral compass is always true.
As the universe is constantly watching, of which belief do you truly  ensue?
Can it be possible that it's all been a climactic of a fully misinformed course? 
With an open mind to  believe, you must abandon  to completely  question it's  source. 
By my name is a casting of a runic force.
Bludgeoned by blunt words, provoked with their prayers, another exorcised possession.
Consider the exorcism to be the invoking of demons directly into human form from a demonic dimension.

The Epitome Begets An Illusion

The force is erupting another deified element. 
A calm walkabout that's gathering the fully intent.
The realm you seek is forward down the left hand path. 
To each his own, by this  trickery of faith and holy wrath.
Devoured by the misunderstanding, and  directed by the multiple guises. 
Cast down beside the blind, by a God whom's craft  demoralizes.
Ready to be the unforgotten besides the unholy moral compass is always true.
As the universe is constantly watching, of which belief do you truly  ensue?
Can it be possible that it's all been a climatic of a fully misinformed course? 
With an open mind to  believe, you must abandon  to completely  question it's  source. 
By my name is a casting of a runic force.
Bludgeoned by blunt words, provoked with their prayers, another exorcised possession.
Consider the exorcism to be the invoking of demons directly into human form from a demonic dimension.

• Short Runic Poems
• Famous Runic Poems
• Best Runic Poems
• Read Runic Poems
• Long Runic Poems
• Runic Quotes