A spell of Protection from souls from Hell.
From my blazing cauldron,
I draw the sacred iron of absolute warding,
Glass shard, and salt.
To bind the shattered fate of my enemy.
He throws his full fury against my gates,
Yet his desperate siege crumbles into ash.
Plunging blindly through the very thresholds of ruin,
He falls into the dark abyss he opened
To pay his final, bleeding debt.
Gather glass, metal and salt and lay in corner of door.
Make the spell and imagine a gift for Sire Marcus Barracus.
For its composure of mind
One's at peace state
Of all quiets most felt
Angel-wrapped in.
Hang, as in your memory
Whose image of.
Life unto death's staunchest
Anxious-warding.
Around this time of year
the cats play with the ghosts.
Wondering what they see
you watch them, curious.
Tails bolt frantically.
Around this time of year
floors creak more than normal,
it makes you pause mid-step.
A glass may hit the floor,
sometimes you cannot prep.
Around this time of year
soft wind whistles a tune.
That sense of foreboding
saved for spooky season,
the song’s quiet in June.
Around this time of year
pumpkins will don a mask.
They guide the departed
while warding off evil.
Halloween kickstarted.
When we met, you were all blue eyes
not the colour, but the charm itself
a quiet pendant against my chest
warding off the noise of the world.
You spoke like sunlight unsure of rain
your laughter small, yet brave enough to stay
each word a timid step toward warmth
each smile a promise I couldn’t forget.
You hid your fears behind soft jokes
looked away, then dared to hold my gaze
like a child learning how to trust
the safety of a gentle flame.
And in that moment, I knew
you weren’t luck, you were grace
a calm I didn’t know I needed
a prayer I never had to say.
A mackerel sky fillets a fish scaled village,
an ear clapping, full sailed, fog
moors itself to the rooftops,
then hides all in a breezeless blear.
Rheumy eyes peep out from nets,
damp noses sniff abaft trawling drapes.
Cloth in hand, potbellied proprietors
battle the splatter and spray,
dabbing at mildewed shelves,
warding away slopping waders
and salty puddles.
On the sightless sea
far beyond the shore and shingle,
fog horns are lowing like lost cattle.
Later, misty reeks will be scoured
from groggy docks,
hauling hands will rope together
the tide-tossed salvage
by and by, squeaky boots
may trudge to taprooms
where codgers and callow alike
can be well oiled
and duly quenched.
Like unwilling alchemy,
A forceful transmutation,
Tragedy to sanity -
Through sudden abnegation.
With fluid emotions -
The mixing of potions -
Alchemical abjuration.
This poem is dedicated to my best friend kat.
For we are all demons!
Demons
In ages of old, when myths held sway,
Demons walked Earth, at the close of the day.
When shadows lengthened, and fear held its reign,
Their whispers arose, like a chilling refrain.
In Babylon's towers, and Egypt's vast lands,
Demons lurked hidden, with clawed, grasping hands.
They preyed on the weak, the weary, the lost,
Their influence growing, at a terrible cost.
But the ancients fought back, with rituals and might,
Invoking the gods, in the pale moon's light.
Priests chanted incantations, warding off the dread,
With amulets and talismans, the demons were fled.
From Babylon to Greece, the battle endured,
Against the unseen, their existence assured.
A timeless struggle, against the unknown,
The fight against demons, forever to be shown.
In legends and myths, their echoes remain,
A reminder of darkness, and enduring pain.
But the human spirit, forever will rise,
To conquer the demons, beneath the dark skies
Behind silvery gray animus clouds, the moon does hide.
The night does cry; its heartbeat rise and falls, like the tide.
Celestial, sleepless, unbending, cold night gathered overhead,
Veiling eerie shadows, eternal time with hideous guise, dread.
Idle and dank, surrounded by broken-down fencing and gnarl skeletal tree,
A grave “No TRESPASSING” sign forbidding entry to the beastly;
Hangs warding off the unwanted and those had doubts,
Only spiders spurred, floating sticky secure line hidden hereabouts.
Wind weaves through mangled limbs with howls, and spies embed
A gaunt, ghostly, hollow, hooded man, sickle in hand, in its stead;
Reaping of life, lifting his black haunting mound shroud a ted.
Condemned, refusing to release its ghostly dead.
Strain, howling, a full moon he stands, searchingly ahead;
Pain screams rip from his throat, bones, and soft tissue bled.
A stir in the air dares to forsake, on, as he falls to his knees, unfed.
Conned the night a moment longer, blood it did crave, then fled.
Wild berries and poison ivy wrap me,
warding off trespassers with their armor;
So toxic the taste will guard gingerly,
a virulent warning doused in glamour;
Maybe you should read the full disclosure;
Heed the warning or wind up getting hurt,
don’t make the mistake of trying to flirt;
You may get caught up in their appearance
stay mindful of not being an expert;
Feral beauty warns you maintain distance.
Poetry’s spoken armor
repels the pointed spear
warding off tomorrow’s scars
enemies in fear
Each word thus protected
as phrases form anew
to vanquish what the darkness brings
— new battlegrounds in view
(Dreamsleep: May, 2024)
The heart can carry pain like a talisman.
Warding off further pain.
Encased in hebetude.
Wallowed in a plethora of flummox.
Like a butterfly in chrysalis.
A radiant sapphire evanescent.
Rhapsodic felicity turned idyllic melancholy.
But the butterfly quiescent must not,
Forever remain in this state.
For aeonian probity is promised,
If the heart rises beyond pains mediocrity.
And tend to its irenic power with its maker.
A dulcet melody in silent reverie.
----Ask S.O. where some of these words came from----
THE WORD vs THE WORLD
Wise words wield weapons versus woeful worldly woes.
Wondrous words wage war against woeful worlds
Wielding wisdom, wit, and worthy worth.
Words weave witty wisdom, warding-off worldly oath.4
While worldly woes wage war, woefully weak,
Words, wise & witty, win wars even in one week,
Wounding woeful worlds with wondrous might.
Wonder-working words wards off world's dark light.8
Words, the worthy weapon, wielded with great care
Will wage war against the woeful, wicked sphere.
Wise wonderful words work wonders here & there,
Waring with the woeful, wicked world's leer.¹²
Words, the worthy warriors, win the war
Waging peace & wearing wisdom with much flair.
Words, the wonderful wand, still work wonders here,
Winning worlds with wonder, beyond compare.¹6
VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP}
FORM: Alliteration/Rhymes
Copyright ©?11th May, 2024.
Archangel Michael protects me nightly
warding off evil spirits
I can slumber relaxed
God, please help cleanse my soul
To last while I grow old
I yearn deeply to feel whole
To serve your kingdom is the goal
Lord, please save my spirit
Please cleanse my conscience to hear it
Your presence, I can feel it
Growing from my bosom, it heals it
Lord, please heal my broken heart
And aid in warding Evil off the chart
Temptation creeps in when life gets hard
But struggle solidifies Your guidance to hearken
You raise me up
During ups and when it gets rough
You elevate my spirit to ascend up
My hunger for Divine Wisdom is not enough
In my soul, lingers an ache
Stemming a pain I can't wake
When will it break?
I pray the Lord my troubles to take
Amen.
Current that makes the dark bright,
Restores spiritual eye sight,
Something for warding off fight;
It has had to increase might,
Somehow,the heavy makes light
And lips loosen that were tight
Bad wounds dismissing as slight...
For who wants Satan's quick flight:
Relocation to new site
The Best: ones that Verses cite
To powerful Demons bite
And remind of what is right...
Prayers keep fighting the night:
Your bent knees and night is white!
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.