Short Arcane Poems

i map her seasons breast belly winter and thigh as arcane knowledge...

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There is a secret arcane flame
        that warms surreptitiously
      the coldest and saddest poems...

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Mangled words and arcane diction,
Are in fact my fiction,
Artifacts: predilections, for attention and prediction....

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arcane orange light
shining through winter woods....
just beyond
             daybreak     

Written: December 01, 2022...

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A romance of dancing in the warm rain,

While locked in a lover's embrace.

A silent vow of  love arcane,

Whispering eminent joy to the human race....

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A surreal thought:
Sonorous corridors are murmurous minds.

An arcane thought:
Gorgeous means dazzling
but sounds unrefined.


MORE THAN THE EYE CAN SEE - Poetry Contest...

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the cold wind of January
there were no birds
only old brambles
and an ending of a song
months of drizzle
impartial to the sun
the arcane wind raffles
pelted with pebbles
flowers bitter confetti...

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Jane, Jane
You're so mundane;
Your cackle, your laugh  reminds me much such
As of a champagne
Your voice makes me queasy
And yet you are feisty
Though this message
May seem arcane
Happy, snappy birthday Jane

6/8/19...

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The purple lands
reading the daily papers
following others leads
A message from your editor
The Sunshine is low
the air rarefied
but every friend is now your enemy
no matter the end
and the rest is mere interest
across some arcane wind...

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Oblivious to arcane mishaps
That molest the bones established by society
The echo of her tattoo sings of a great depression
Each time the memory surfaces,
A twisted grin is born
Perhaps this could be the preluding window to existential purgatory...

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Acorns fallow
where do squirrels feed
Snowdrops late this year
The seasons awry
and still we feel the cold
as the arcane wind barricades
itself amongst the pummelled fence
Here a strange madness begins to find out
its root of dreams
amongst the dying trees...

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Twined Her Spirits Orbiting Love's Night Their Milky Way, Sublime
Thule's, Scandinavian Gypsy Queens Ambrosia's Arcane, Sceptre She
Crowned Of Jewels Transexual Beads ? Avatar, This Heart Which Bleeds
Swirling Mass Creativity; When Worlds Collide Their Meant To Be ? Sappho....

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Femininity claimed her loveliness fair
As stood their castle aside the arcane sea
Brushing the tiny tangles from her soft 
Silkened hair and our eyes did meet...
This waltz amid the silent silver glass
Meant to be's her endless love, reflects
Our lips they meet; kisses, a palace of pink....

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The starlight from the past
reaches our eyes.
When was that moment,
that brief sidereal glow?
When that shining wake
really slipped
along the galactic boundaries?
Light, distance and time
are showing their arcane
and we astonished are observing now
what formerly happened.

Marco...

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Bitter Nightshade 

Too late now for an Intercessor--
My red, Luscious, Bittersweet berries 
Have done their work...and I'm Quiescent...
Ambivalent to your Tactile ruse 
Seen as the Quintessence and Arcane. 
Your Flamboyant tryst sealed my Immolation. 


©deborah burch
11/21/2016...

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Beneath the bright, white, flight of the water
finger-bones stir mud.
Each digit a buried metaphor
for lovers that had once written
on clear skies.
There in the turgid dark
they create words from shadows,
dark slow swirls, an arcane scrolling
only dead-fish may interpret....

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Each time that I see her
A switch is stimulated within me
So arcane yet freakishly alluring
And like a tiger hunting its prey

I chased her pirouetting shadow ever so enthusiastically
The taste of it quite addicting in a hopelessly romantic sense
Tirelessly becoming the axis on which my beliefs lie...

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Our central vein, from root to crown
Called the staff of power
Feeling God’s touch, in bliss we drown
As in-pours grace shower

Sky above, earth below 
Scent of love we follow
Our softened heart mellow

Wisdom arcane
Our central vein

20-January-2022
Quietus ...

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Arcane Factories
Along the windswept wasteland
broken bones of humanity unimaginable 
a Tyranny in the mind's eye
bleak landscapes of industry churn
spires reaching to torch heaven,
huge towers of jaded glass,
soaring to the zenith 
breaking fire of crimson waves
pouring down 
to hells foundations....

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So-called civilization
busy in searching of pure nectar
Where water can't quench the throat of the poor

Nowadays
So-called movement for hygienic civilization-
an asylum of mental disease
Where two times foods rights a day 
are hoarded in the arcane abdomen of the capitalist



-17.06.2020 Chattogram...

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you gave a bajou
and the summer rain
toppled and confused
we left under our own accords

In the morning
we recanted,
sitting in misery
you said you never loved us


we tried to stroke our bruised egos
but the arcane wind was chaffing,
with the rest of your friends
we sweetly languished 
unkissed by the dawn...

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The woods have been gathering here
for generations,
they bring their faithful rings
scored into aged ligneous skins.

The language of the trees is arcane,
it arrives from deep ancestral roots.

Tree-words turn green while still in the seed,

those seeds grow
until they sing like bells
chiming with the earth-turning sky....

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If only I could wave a magic wand
And utter arcane words to make it right -
But even though you are across the pond,
I swear to be there, help you win the fight,
To penetrate the darkness, see the light,
And you can count on me to take your side:
I’ll always be your staunchest friend with pride.

Jack Horne for Dr Ram's Rhyme Royal contest...

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Enough with the preaching
And halt the feeding.
Words are dead- when-
There are no trails read.

Now! Sojourn your thought-
Don’t let your muscle rot,
Give light to your mind-
And raise your strength a kind.

For to heed is good-
As to let wounds rebuild.
Be it for history’s sorrow,
Now you set for morrow.

Heed to the arcane one,
Life is but one....

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You move
Like some mythical beast
Who would not have been you
If there were any options

Your thoughts
Are like some invisible sculpture
Draped in the deepest mysteries
Of the madness in man's dreams

You speak
Like some antediluvian prophet with your
Arcane gestures and half forgotten metaphors
Dredged from somewhere in the deepest past...

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