Short Evil Eye Poems

high upon lampposts
          gulls give me the evil eye 
         ~ drop something on him...

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you were given a mission 
to find a child
no asking why
just a job
more of a feeling
a knowing
power and wealth
we're the rewards
from a evil eye
a master 
you sold your soul to......

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Her evil eye captures you
under her spell she binds you
No one can resist her powerful force
Her wicked wrath rages and surges
death, destruction and despair emerges
No other like her
     ~Katrina~...

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Wizardry in black dress
whips up cauldron of dread
warts, newts and black potions
whisks wildly on broomstick
with a dark, evil eye 
while cackling wickedly
woe to those who listen. 







9/19/2023...

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Reverse
an evil eye upon you
a spell cast from the north
a reason not to venture forth
a witch a season a smoldering stick
greed anger will make you sick
cast illness as a moon bred circle
cast doubt and sorrow to met eyes
reverse...

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Whatever charector he plays is always good.
He's my cowboy his name is Clint Eastwood.

He's quick at the draw and got an evil eye.
If you do him wrong he'll shoot until you die.

A cowboy he plays is his best.
I think he's better at it then the rest....

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What seems dull by day
  Flashes peril by night
Sparks far away
  A trembling fright

The rustling of trees
  Noontide's gentle wind
On nighttime's breeze
  Nearly do me in

Night's shadow amplifies
  What bright days minimize
Pitch-black terror underlies
  The scream of the Evil Eye...

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Hurricanes twirl like a kaleidoscope,
chaotic fragments crash in pewter sky,
perpetual unstable isotopes

create apocalypse on land once dry.
Cacophony of wind does shear the hope
to quell hysteria in waters high.

The spiraled carnage in the wind does fly
outside the hollow of an evil eye....

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Lake Superior, Gitche Gumee
November winds, fear starts boiling.
The ship creaks, groans, twists, water spumy; 
Thoughts of loved ones waiting on shore pushed aside.
Evil eye of the storm is coiling
And springs to release twenty-nine souls into the debris.
The church bell twenty-nine times is tolling....

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An alm-timed good deed
got evilly rewarded
The saintly gesture, labor of love
was given a
perfidious payment

Death by dissimulation
uttered a bullet cry
Good Samaritan intentions
was given a
hot metal, cold evil eye

A warm welcoming, kind-hearted try
was given a
glowing halo goodbye...

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House of horrors sits on a hill
you smell decay as you walk by; 
 ‘No trespassing’ you should comply; 
You may not want to get your fill 
loud warning bells are not a drill;
Just one look inside? Please don’t try;
House of horrors; 
Time and again there’s been a kill; 
Boarded windows will amplify 
the halo of the evil eye; 
A scream has stolen your free will; 
House of horrors....

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I would predict a landslide (Blue!)
Without a hint of déjà vu
But superstition rears its head
And warns me to shut up instead

Or else I would absorb the blame
If vic’try came to What’s-His-Name.
The reason why might give you pause – 
A kinnehura*’d be the cause.

*a pronouncement indicating good fortune
which should not be uttered for fear of 
attracting the “evil eye.” (Yiddish)...

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we grumble to get discovered
still why do we even bother
the mere sound of silence
amidst the violence

beyond its beckoning plough
to discover each other
running further
far from disorder

stand as a filter
amidst the evil eye
come sit near my pale sister
learn to treasure

to discover each other
is it any wonder
run for shelter
try to stay together
to lead each other home...

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Over my house lingered a broom-riding witch.
She laughed so hard, the roof gave a pitch.
Someone told grandma about it; for they loved to snitch.
We all ran outside and threw ourselves into a ditch.

What are we doing here? Asked my aunt who was rich.
I thought you knew, I said to my short cousin Mitch.
I had no idea either, so we stared at the witch.
She gave us the evil eye, scaring us back into the ditch....

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She’s a witch Carol said. She gave me the evil eye.
I know witches do not do that, so I asked her why.
She casts spells and causes dogs to turn into pink frogs.
That has happened six weeks way down in the bogs.

She’s a witch said my mother, my sister and brother.
I was annoyed by them, their rumors feed off each other.
She is not a witch I said as I watched her dip an eyeball in her tea.
Well, on second thought, I thought, she really might be....

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Hens are not meat eaters
They do not like it at all
But the giant sixty-foot hen had the beach combers running that fall

She strutted back and forth
Giving them all the evil eye
I think it is hilarious that they think they are going to die

Her daddy the rooster laughed when he heard the tale
It came from the man who delivers the mail

My daughter is a jokester, that is for sure the old rooster said.
He loved that she scared humans into thinking they soon would be dead....

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