The greatest power hides
in the plain light of things...
a promise kept
is more valuable than coin,
a kind word
can outshine the day,
a helping hand
makes the heavy load
feel light.
These are the spells
that outlast empires,
the soft enchantments
that outlive the loud ones.
Too exact Revenge
I hold a strand of enemies’ hair.
I will carve my exact revenge.
Plant the root deep down Hell
For her to be punished and held captive
Where she can’t reach it
Watch her burn, watch her sweat,
Just like she did to me.
Light a candle, read prayer
Burn strand over candle
Leaving candle all night
Preferably 3 am to 4 am.
ps. if not got candle , just touch picture
The Hollow Toll of Hell
Old witch plucked out every hair
To weave her wicked snares.
But a deal demands a spirit pure,
And hers was beyond repair.
She traded a thumb, she traded an eye,
Yet still she paraded on
Seeking the key for the gate, the hidden escape,
Before the rise of dawn.
With nothing left of flesh or bone,
No gold left to toll,
She reached the brink and paid the price:
The sale of her hollow soul.
After thirty-three years of unexplained happenings in her house Gina was standing at her window in her flat. She saw a byzantine soldier run from her house. She was startled, he was running from her door, down the stairs and down into the street. She was confused. She could hear him “it’s done, its over” what did he mean by that. Confused she sat down and could see the hex print vanish from her hand and knew was it him that was marauding her all these years. But... it’s over now, he left or was it the beginning. She could hear see a shadow and voices all those years blaming her for petty things she had done as a child. She couldn’t explain, someone close had paid him in the dark to cause distress in her life for all these years. "Who could it be… he always said it was my sister, mom and dad", all three of them, some sort of revenge as they already were in the dark and had to pay rent to get out, but infighting started and there was no control over them. “It’s time to pay he always said…
my spells went haywire again, Awry, the teen witch told her friends
Her adventures with spells were diverse, one never ends
Will we know you when we see you? Asked Mareen, a clever buddy.
Time will tell, said the teen witch, but please don’t be a fuddy-duddy.
The friends met up on the streetcorner wondering when she might appear.
She’s here! Sang out Jacqueline. I know that she’s here!
A hat and purse approached them with no head or legs, just arms and feet.
Okay said Awry, the Teen witch. Let’s go Trick-or-Treat.
You must wear full robes and striped stocking when spelling she was told.
Sammie thought this was insane; but her advice people were anciently old.
She decided to practice disappearing spells in her P.J.s for fun and delight.
Was never seen again, said grandma, explaining her miserable plight.
They don’t want us to do spells in P.J.s, I told my sister rolling my eyes.
The next day, I tried it and came up missing. I guess this is no big surprise.
The music played, soft and slow
Its lyrics smooth, with a romantic flow
The starry skies seem to cast a spell
The urge to dance could not be quelled
On the dancefloor, I held her close
In the melody, we were engrossed
Our bodies moved in rhythmic motion
Under the spell of moonlight's potion
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You find them first in the attic dust,
spells written on the backs of receipts~
bleached ink, promises curled at the frayed edges.
They taste of cinnamon and static,
whispering in a tongue your brain
almost remembers.
Strings, too. Not the kind that bind,
but the ones that fray~
a sweater unraveled by time,
a puppet cut loose,
still jerking its limbs in the dark.
And the forgotten things?
They crowd the corners like shy ghosts,
holding their breath.
A locket with no face inside,
a key that fits nothing you own,
the slow dripping of a faucet
that stopped being fixed
long before you were born.
You could cast them all,
these leftover incantations,
but magic is heavier
when it has nowhere to go.
So you let them settle~
spells without syllables,
strings without anchors,
lost things learning
how to stay.
There once was a witch from a wasteland
Who had a poisoned mouth and hand
Whatever she touched
Turned into rust or to dust
Her breath made everything sand
Meet Midnight the sorcerer's cat
Magical brews and potions are his specialty
Finetuning his spells and curses
Sky when with dense clouds abound,
Seeing which peacocks dance around
On tender-green-dress-bedecked a hill,
In such a stirring scene, love-bound,
Which wayfarer wistful would not feel?
_____________________________
Translation (Quintain) | 34.08.2025 | monsoon, Nature, passion, peacock, nostalgia
Note: Here is a verse (in Arya meter) from Bhartrihari’s Shringaara Shatakam (hundred verses on love and romance). Spring was dealt with in the preceding verse. The poet now paints a picture of monsoon: dark clouds surround; excited, peacocks dance; the earth is bedecked with a lush green dress; a traveller longing for conjugal bliss, feels homesick. Here is the transliteration of the verse in Sanskrit:
Upari ghanam ghana-patalam tiryak
girayo api nartita mayurah |
Kshitih api kandala dhavala
drashtim pathikah kva yapayatu || 47 ||
Sweet-scented breeze when wafts around,
A thrilled Koyal breaks into song,
On tree branches fresh sprouts abound,
On her face, love-making gone long,
Pearly sweat beads do when alight,
To whom would a scene not delight?
_______________________________
Translation (sestet*) | 33.08.2025 | spring, night, delight, nightingale, nostalgia
*Wonder, if it can be called a Sestetto Rima-- iambic meter with a rhyme scheme of ABABCC.
Note: Here is a verse (in Harini meter) from Bhartrihari’s Shringaara Shatakam (hundred verses on love and romance). The poet paints here a picture of a spring season in full spell: when fragrance wafts around, tender sprouts surround, a Koyal sings, sweat beads alight from her face from prolonged coitus, who’d not get delighted? Here is the transliteration of the Sanskrit verse:
Parimala amrtah vatah shakha nava-ankura-kotayo,
Madhura-viruta-utkantha vachah priyah pika pakshinam |
Virala surata sveda-udgara vadhu-vadana-indavah,
Prasarati madhau ratryam jatah na kasya guna-udayah || 37 ||
Dry Spells
There’s no action in the living room, no action in the kitchen, and no action in the bathroom. So, let’s be clear about the bedroom: keep your expectations realistic, nothing is going to happen.
When you pay rent of hell a register appears in your house
A rent book and black pen
Your actions essence turned into knots that appear as black ropes
Your thoughts noted in a book and weighted on the scales of the register.
Very dark in your eyes with visions of hell.
To break these knots, you need golden points in heaven.
A demon following you.
To make a spell to cast on your enemy
Without strings and things
For doing something nasty to you
Take their photo
Write what they did on photo
Curse their photo
Take it to the graveyard
Dig hole and bury near entrance in soil
Curse something nasty happen to them
Repeat what they did
At home
Take a small cauldron
Fill with water light a fire
Let the water evaporate
If only got candle do same.
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