Another nightly ascent up the stairs towards my solitary bedroom.
Slightly tainted with opiate night perfumes, glistening green totems await;
O souls beyond the time before time was time,
Is there a bright future ahead?
Only the note of B flat spills out of nocturnal batrachian depths.
Strange birds are howling and the black river is almost comatose across the road.
There is a mauve, antediluvian horror clinging to my window pane.
Green tree frogs, watch my sleep as I turn into a star;
I rest in the abode of Orion and my body melts into sweet smelling lilies,
Keep your sorceries around me like green jade amulets,
Trace your rainwater sigils around my bed,
Leap into my dreams and teach me your purple magics.
O pleasures of the nightside borderland,
O silly little green things.
From riven ways and lent-for heaven’s vault
we clime on breath enwrit with slender ink,
each word a sworn avouchment ’gainst the dark,
each line a stout denial unto Lethe.
Hands erst in thrall do now the aether shape
with sigils forged of cinder, ash, and balm;
the orphan’s moan, the widow’s fervent cry,
lie twinn’d upon one consecrated leaf.
No tongue herein is beggared or despised—
the hush’d confession, clamant plea alike;
the scripture born of weal and wounded flesh
doth pace as peers in kingly even-stead.
We sing of marches loos’d from iron will,
of Right relearning how to quicken fair;
for Peace is not engender’d out of hush,
but sired by heedful ear to elder griefs.
This labour is no idle courtly sport,
nor dalliance of metre, wit, and breath—
it is a synod call’d by mortal hope,
where Mercy mounts the throne of trembling Fear.
Here, in these staves, the world recalls itself:
that Freedom waketh when all tales are weigh’d,
and Concord draweth first untroubled breath
when every soul long mute is bid to sing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The broken amphora leaks wine dark as ink~
not for drowning sorrows but for making sigils on stars.
We don’t merely rearrange rubble with our words
we ignite phosphorus in marrow-bones
guiding wanderers through sulfurous nights.
When the world grinds its sermons into dust,
we distill comet-trails from the grime.
Those soaring meditations? They become
bridges where ghosts cross with new alphabets,
each footfall cracking the ground into stars.
Monument alone
Signifies memory, home
Rest, visitation
Defined rows, sigils
Communal solitude, rest
Dearly beloved
Granite silhouettes
Populate the shrinking span
Reminders of loss
Legacy in stone
Life beautifully engraved
Everlasting love
defined rows, sigils
communal solitude, rest
silent thoughts, poppies
All is burning, cinders and ash
flakes float in black rain,
falling on a ground
of clinkers and flinders.
The hand of ruin traces sigils
of chaos and strife
on broken city walls,
within which rats awaken
They are the true rulers of destruction,
living cloaked with shadows,
in any crevice or crack,
hunting bones and burnt flesh.
Their rivals, jet-black birds,
massing on heights above
in their murders
and raucous unkindness'.
After Ragnarök, the still silence
is broken by the raspy flutter
of a million wings,
echoed chittering of uncountable hordes.
What life is left
does not weep.
As the demons I carry weigh down on me heavy, shadowed and restless, they cling to my skin, a battle un ending both outside and in. Regrets with sharp teeth sink in my chest. While doubt grips my throat denying me rest. The anger ignites like a flame in my veins, feeding the fire of my unspoken pains. They live off my anger and suffocate my mind. They promise me power, but leave me confined.
Guilt is a phantom that watches me weep, echoing voices that never will sleep. Fear is the chains wrapped around my soul, mocking my steps, taking control. They slither in silence, they howl in the dark; carving their sigils deep in my heart. With venomous whispers they twist every thought turning me into the monster they sought. They poison my kindness and shatter my grace they wear my features, my voice, my face.
No priest alone can force them to leave. They’ve become my nature my blackened seed. But a whisper of mercy, the darkness won’t know, I call on the lord, so the devil will flee ,for christ alone holds victory. Jesus wept, he felt my pain, he bore the cross, he took my shame. The demons within will deceive me and lie but Jesus will come, redemption nigh.
Snake cuts through the flames of judgement
Sigils become homogenized black.
Snake cuts through the flames of judgement
Sigils become homogenized
Back
Through the dread cesspool of filth
Filth defines what defiles
Nebuchadnezzar unlocks the key
The broken god may rest today
And forevermore.
For the One in Flesh is dead.
SES BISOUS
...................... and then he kissed her
A wistful taste that daily she began to crave
Her lips rouge with bruises only kisses give
Little telltale signs of puckered pinkness lips hide
His yen she feels, though in check he tries to keep
And the kisses so few as he ponders if time be right
Instead of making good use of the time there be
He wonders yet still if she sees what his eyes tell
Forgetting a lady would never be so brash
To assume sigils from a man yet unclear
His kisses so chaste and bashful they make
That she fears if in truth she's doing it right
Breathless and shaken, unsure what next to do
And ever so shy to even look at him.
Magic
Tick tock the wall clock
is keeping time
Wait, worry, wonder
spend another dime
Talk to my maker
about daily wonders
Discussing my behavior
and my hundred blunders
Lighting candles of white, gold, black
Fending off my demons trying to come back
Sigils for protection
drawn in the dust
Trusting my wards
is always a must
Speaking words of truth,
speaking words of power
Speak them loud with meaning
come the witching hour
When there is no rooster waking you up at dawn,
You can go back to sleep, just as long
As you haven't left too many of the lights on.
Just relax, wake up, and have fun!
When one rooster wakes you up at dawn
Say your prayers, the work day's begun
Make sure you're clean, get your hard shoes on,
And get a straw hat to protect from the sun.
When two roosters wake you up at dawn,
Get outside, to the north and pray.
An ancient beast is on the run,
Pray for safety, before the day is done.
When five roosters stand silently at dawn.
The sky is red with a Holy One
Corrupted Angel's trumpets sound
Do not fight. They've already won.
When 7 silhouettes of any creatureat the window,
Draw sigils and pray.
The Rapture has been corrupted
The three worlds are collapsing and melting together.
When 11 roosters wake you up at dawn,
That's normal.
That's normal.
That's normal.
That's normal.
That's normal.
That's normal.
That's normal.5
That's normal.011
That's normal.20
That's normal.
That's normal.
Capitulating to the wild, random and fickle.
Sigils weaved from nothing, we digest,
divide amongst our kin,
our hands stiffened and hastily fragmented,
our eyes on the sun,
we are all wrapped in cellophane,
falling in place, as the holy crown for man, our Lord and Savior.
Man forbid thou escape his grip today!
Even so, he will surely find thee later.
Pencil moves across the page;
graphite on the paper blazes;
letters, join, and come together, now.
Floating on the mind like feathers,
sigils writ with light on aether,
melt upon the warmth of empty space.
Nothing left but empty mind,
forgetting words, and sigil signs,
they’ve sunk beyond where nothing has a face.
Nothing there but unseen dreams
that move about with simple ease,
and bring results as quickly as they please.
Moving like an iron cog
that changes time on ivory clocks
although no one can see the sturdy wheels.
Who will make or mend the train
of whirling dreams that slowly drain?
And, who will wind the mighty, silver spring?
And who will wear the key?
I'm Israel
for once I was real
now I'm nothing but a living hell
the ruthless child and his deceiving spell
once upon an Israel
now the eye in the capstone
wants your palestinian home
yet you can't escape my tribulation appeal
i disappeared leaving an ancient zest
I'm an internal quest
yet you battle for the impossible to manifest
you never listened ,you never believed
now rolling in my grave while you're being deceived
my destroyers were gutting the earth
eastern europeans to middle eastern Israelites giving birth
where else can you say shalom while stealing and destroying homes
hidden sigils ,books for crooks
conjuring and invoking
the hermaphrodite is giving my fake rebirth
ushering the two nations myth
while all serves the congregation
setting the promise land
but Him never built castles of sand
as you're all taking the stamp
wait for your fake black hoofed lamp.
Tamer Hossam
fickle crickets:
serenading sirens
of retreat, as chartreuse digits
creep dark alley swamps;
hanging jungle themes invade
quiet dens perpetuated by
creation’s wet glory...croaking:
ancestral tales of grandeur.
mammal sigils:
evoking tootling
trespassers of environmental legacy;
nature redeeming medicines
sustaining miracles of light...EPA
earth.provides.assistance:
yet mankind defers pollution-free
toxic-free lakes of life.
scatter kingdom:
encroaching breaths spew
poisonous darts of entitlement
never biblically enforced;
gather eggs of free-will, lay deep
in vined elegance towering
beneath second-heaven despisers
of extant species.
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