My first approach to this contest
Was to write an Acrostic Poem.
It was written but not posted. I later
Decided a different more direct form.
Contest: Later Than Witchcraft
Sponsor: Matt Caliri
Witchcraft has a distant past;
A strong present;
A doomed future.
Witchcraft, is a 'No No' from God.
The future is in God's head and heart.
Time and space are in His hands.
Our future is in his hands, not in the
Readings of the palms of our hands.
Lustfully seeking earthly fortunes is unwise.
Our fortunes are not known by fortune tellers.
Christ is our hope, our fortune, and our future.
Reading and believing the Bible is reasuring.
It will enable us to avoid deception and false hope, which is the hallmark of witchcraft.
In time, the future will be known by us all.
Weird Witch cunning most sitting with scary ghost
eating rotten mutton toast and burnt butter toast.
Octopus spinning twisting terrifying tentacles
Witty Witch showing black magic, doing miracles.
Ghostly Gibbous Moon peeps through clouds, winks wizard.
Nocturnal owl whirling eyes turns back to attack limping lizard.
Eight eyes of black widow sparkled through wide window.
Moon cast ghostly shadow os shrubs in adjacent meadow.
Vigorous going on scry Halloween Dance.
All are exulted , hated to miss the chance.
Violent Viper always hyper continue shedding tears
' I love you , Dear' to whisper close to my ears.
Wicked Witch danced in guise of Fairy.
Suddenly showed her face weird scary.
Emerald eyed Mini Cat chased macro mouse.
arranging party in dark haunted log house.
Jumper Vampire hugged me swift to inspire.
gifting , a shiny sapphire : Me ! About to expire.
Vultures and Hawks coming in flocks ringing gingle bells.
Me in party at haunted house trembling and heart fails.
we buried witchcraft
but kept old snake oil bottles
lined up on our shelves
hooked up with magic potions
to give hope when logic fails
science displays signs
fate is foretold on the screen
yet we plead for cures
still brewed over smoky fires
hope fixes we can't forgo
hunger stays away
concoctions remove old stains
herbs promise rebirth
purging latter-day poisons
making tomorrow spotless
old curses survive
though no cauldron lights the room
we demand revenge
through hidden spells and curses
that only witchcraft provides
when reason falls short
shadowy figures emerge
in crystal ball veils
to give our nameless fears cause
rather than leave darkness blank
science lights the room
yet something circles in flames
older than knowledge
witchcraft belatedly lives
where reason cannot go
There’s an all girl band called “S1ut Intent.”
They’re real headbangers which I can't take much of
but I LOVE that name - Ok, let’s write THAT poem..
S1ut intent, that’s what it was.
It was shamefully late
and the lights were on
but all else would have been torture
With marriage-like consents
and sharp cloyless appetites
we joined in love’s witchcraft
and bestowed our pleasures
entangling quite forcefully
was an antidote to the daily,
the pared-down and neutral
and once the torch was out
the epilog was stronger
than contentment
.
.
Songs for this:
Kiss by Demi Lovato
The Way I Love You by Jorja Smith
Little Sister by Ellie O'Neill
Fine print
Come to me.
If you have tried traditional methods and they don’t work.
You may enrol and I will help you seek what it is your looking for. Revenge or someone hurt you.
You should have some sort of skills to earn coins. It may take a long time so I won’t expect you to have them. I will help clear your mistakes.
You will do better in everything and learn as I may guide you.
I will give you ideas but expect something back.
I will appear to you as a vision or in a dream if I accept.
How long it may take is an individual case time.
You may sign the contract.
Sire Marcus Barracus.
Calling the spirit to tell me a spell
I need to seek revenge
A spell for me
Take a piece wood
Carve a face
A silver chain
Wrap chain round and pull side to side
Cursing the one you hate
Now I have the money
Time to escape
Before Djinn wakes
Help
I’m running in haste
I think he’s coming
There is no slave of Hecate
it’s sea soft shell saves and covers me
though no bliss unaware
but the pull of her hair
drags her back to reality
though sand soft curves
It limestone hurts
your pink poker hands
on fire they burn
and prick at the skin
of a lizards sin
there is no slave of our Hecate
with twisted nails
filled: grime and mail
brush liquid lines
on cupids cry
find black dog spines
not in her eyes
but wool worn lies
darken the skies
hello to a friend of Hecate.
The witch of the woods watches from the window,
While willows’ webs weave wildly in the wind,
And wicked whiffs of worm-water are wafting
From the whirling well of woe and wallow.
ah Coffeetop Locks
be the witch’s fox
a cunning you pair
in hand on the fringe
of village life wings
but inward at night
for her work
where you light
then quickly on hocks
ah Coffeetop Locks
Agnes Sampson there you say,
As frightened even now as to the strong wind is to a blade of Hay,
But we forget what made her the same,
And what gave the evil fairy Maleficent-her name!
We may accuse Esmeralda of witchcraft-
Just because she loved Phoebus,
But we forget that we too can fall like her from the raft,
And then- get under the Wheels of a running bus.
Maleficent cursed Aurora and made her die,
If that is how they are; then how are we,
We too hide bitterness in our hearts when we do not get the piece of pie,
Then who are we and who is she?
You can hide your face,
But you certainly for long cannot win the race,
Blaming others and saving us is what we do,
Rather than thinking how to change ourselves and wait in the queue.
If I walk with a torn piece of cloth,
Which I wear as I walk like a sloth,
But then I blame a girl walking without it for having no shame,
And who am I to perhaps oppose her for the sake of fame?
Mojito Conjuring
When the bruja in the red dress
sends me out this time,
it is for the taste of
sour oranges and garlic.
Once, when I plied her
with a cigar called Hoyo de Montyerrey,
she coiled the smoke,
said that I was still feral and untamed,
sent me out for sugar so that
I could learn my true name.
Scythe-swinging, field-slave-singing,
I could not return to her coven of one
until I had learned that my “Suarez”
meant that I was the son of sugar itself –
the child of wild ingenious devouring
the rows of cane like a dragon.
Now, red-dress bruja breathes out
clouds of tobacco *****,
turns the cigar round and round,
tells me to gather garlic and aurantium oranges
so that the sour and the sucre may jibe
together in me,
and leave me properly christened
for when it is time for me to work,
time for me to sweat,
time for me to sing.
La wicked bruja hechicera,
with an impious hex--
deep within the marshlands-
'neath a foul--swampy grave,
shall indeed summon
Pumpkin Head.
Rage's what he wheels,
from those who seek revenge;
Restitution for the reckless end
of a love-one, who's been slain.
Her Abyss fiend, ghastly nights
of vengeance spreads.
'Tis best and wiser yet
to kneel in silent prayer.
Repent, for it's the only tool
the hunted have to soothe
the impinging gloom
of dark that looms.
For those he stalks
don't stand a chance;
The Reaper's minion
feeds his thirst
with bloody-blugent preys,
la hechicera dooms.
Sinners atone, confronting
their fate--with a wicker fort
made faith that rots;
For pleas and screams,
like wood ablaze-only excite
his callus, morbid heart.
Condemned souls
who bear the witch's mark.
Hell hound will dissecting hunt.
For the following dawn
are found only severed heads
with bods from limbs apart.
A cabin sees a creature cool from night of crawl and hunt in all
of gravely stone and street in tone of light diffused by wane of moon
a toothless gum with tutting tongue clicks her way like bats among
the trees with hair of oaken leaves that perk each morn’ upon the sun
but she with book to under-arm, her book of chanting, her grimoire
be carried lo and carried far and braced for spell when suiting her
this creature crone of caustic mouth who oft’ alone with cackled laugh
does shriek and scorn a charm or more,
did witch, the spell
did witch, she cast
The bullying and bruising
Went on and on for years,
'Til the time had come
They'd atone for her tears
Aimed at those people
The cruel and the two-faced,
For revenge is sweet ...
And she wanted a taste
If only they'd befriended her
And if only they knew,
The humble, homely girl
Practiced a little voodoo
All mouths sealed shut
And all eyes went blind,
The more they judged
The more her spell bind
No one stared as if
All eyelids were sewn shut,
No one whispered as if
All throats had been cut
Confused and in pain
They clawed with each hand,
As a power took over them
Greater than any could understand
With expanding waistlines
To match their hips,
As they ate the words
That escaped their lips
Satisfied and smiling
She had reached her goal,
They could never again
Hurt another soft soul.
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