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Under a Witches SkyAnd lo there he said: "I am darkness rising"
— ‘an apparition bleeding into a dreaming sky
Distilled in the timbre of windswept voices,
black feathers enchant earth in fevered-song
Magick ebbs & shimmers thru earthen veins,
seething like a migration of hungry wolves
Silvery eyes peer, drinking the ether of souls;
watching the spirit world fold into the mists
And where Shadows and Witches conjure,
— myriad talons beshrew Winter’s prayer
For eons I hath wandered in forgotten lore
— a sleep walker thru ash & fire, hunting ..
Beneath Moon solemn and drifting,
I covet thy ghostly figure velvet, undressing
The Man and the MoonHer mouth corners hung themselves
and I began to wonder if that was the death of them.
A simple, quiet death;
without broken fingernails lining the walls
with the stripes of a despairing end.
I began to ache with the questioning in my heart
with the echoes reverberating in my capillaries
of her face scorching sunshine in her smile
right before it crumpled
and nothing was left but a frowning moon
set firm in its resignation to an upcoming eclipse.
SpeakeasyI can feel you like a phantom,
sensation without touch,
like breath in winter
or a misty mountain morning
that stays with me
until the stars fall in evening.
Your eyes contain the secrets
your lips would dare to betray,
but your body tells the story
and I am trying
to read between the lines
of your paperback smiles.
A grazing touch, a covert glance,
the memories remain
as skin grows warm and red
beneath lying fingertips
that claim incidental contact
a thousand times a day.
it's not the kind of thing we say
when we are speaking
without talking and feeling
and thinking without knowing...
all of the things
Dandelion QueenI dream of the ocean;
that paper-thin line where
the current swallows the stars
and the water churns violet
(you tell me to be
dandelion queen, we've
heard all these words before)
I will sleep heavy
and wake a few hours before dawn,
only to forget my name
my wave-weathered heart will cry,
I will cry (my biggest fear
is drowning in too many
of my own weighted words
you tell me to be
so I can hear the world breathe)
I want to go home
Overgrown ColorsRed like blood on a rose.
White like bone and stars.
Black like reclusiveness.
Green like dead air.
Orange like the savage instinct.
Purity like a god's heart.
Red like thawing hatred.
White like a frozen, severe cry.
Black like the night's deprived shadows.
Green like the wind in the grass.
Orange like the light in the shadows.
Purity like the sun rising.
So discharging through the moon in a wheeze is like luminous white, dispersed red.
We Can't Be Together.Every kiss you plant on my lips,
Takes a little bit of my soul away.
You're stealing the passion,
You're invading my heart,
And killing what emotion I've left untouched.
I can't love you.
I've tried to before,
Oh my god,
Have I tried.
Tried to unlock the doors to myself,
Tried to open up,
And let you in.
But as soon as I took one look,
Negativity took it's opportunity,
And struck the hot iron I'd been molding.
Every word you mutter
My knees falter under
You're killing me
You're my kryptonite
I'm your paradise
But in this odd peace that seems to be approaching
I can't find happiness.
We aren't meant to be together
WindowsHere am I, repeated,
and beyond waits everything
but everything is more
than I can bear.
I am not built for altitude
nor looking far afield;
groves and granite-sided mountains
stop my gaze
like rest for every tired wing;
a cover in the coldest time
snugged up beneath my chin.
Windows nothing more,
but safe lies there behind them
as the chambered hours pass;
safe sleeps there behind them
on the soft side of the glass.
Poet as PainterThe world
Your dusty palette,
Your muddied paintbrush:
The pristine slate
with thanks to frosttwo roads diverged in a soulless dawn
and you pull over,
idling on the shoulder of route 50.
it's a polaroid morning and
the world is as grainy
as your eyes,
and one million miles
is not far enough.
it plays back, filmstrip,
blurred along the length of
and here you are:
facing a choice between
this loosejointed, hollowbodied
this is what
Dry Spell I am immobilized by time.
by the idea that it is somehow slipping,
through the cracks of
my fingers and high
above my head.
I am terrified by the incessant notion
that no combination of thoughts,
could possibly satiate it.
I realize only now that it can never be filled:
all which is tossed into it is swallowed in haste
that it dissolves into non-being.
I find that I am caught within its furrows
much like the words it devo
BoyfriendI thought you were good.
You WERE good.
You played with my hair.
You held me when I cried.
You were a gentleman.
You made me laugh.
You kissed me.
You loved me.
I loved you.
It was then that I learned the truth.
The dirty, rotten, stinking truth.
You played with her hair.
You kissed her.
You loved her.
You made her laugh.
I saw you – don’t you dare deny it.
I saw you giving her that love.
That same love you gave me.
I break up with you.
You don’t even seem to care.
Did you ever love me at all?
Or was it only ever her?
Much later, you’ll realize what a mistake you made.
You Don't Know ItYou don't know it, but you kept me sane
I nearly went over the edge
With a knife in one hand and a gun in the other
But you grabbed me
Pulled me back on my own two feet
Emptied my hands
And when you realized that I couldn't stand on my own
You hugged me
Like a mother would do for her child
Like a friend would do for, dare I say, another friend
You don't know it, but when you saved me
I felt free
I felt wanted
I felt needed
I felt, dare I say, loved
You don't know it, but when you showed me kindness
I fell in love
In love with your kindness
That same sweet kindness you saved me with
It felt like I found a new home
One that I could be, dare
untitledGold abundant at your feet,
Heart ripe and pumping on your sleeve,
And eternal admiration;
To say happiness has evaded you
Would be asylum-esque lunacy
For you have nothing to lose,
Fate is on your side,
The odds are in your favor infinitely
Do not waste the gift you’ve received
Pull Her Hair/Stare At The StarsThe ghosts have crashed their ship
on the other side of town,
you can see it from the second floor
all the way over here.
You can see the white clouds
rising from the wreck
and a nova of heat, a big bright
nova of warmth pulling the moths and wolves
out from the woods (with their noses up and searching).
You can smell the yearning like bees
leaving the hive, like the grizzly brown bears
on the jagged white mountains (concrete and imposing).
They call it fear,
but I see these ghosts
scrambling up into the sky
and I like to think it's
something different entirely.
"If I had the chance""If I had the chance."
"If I had the chance I would be the voice inside your head."
Softly I would serenade the right words that would led you in life. As you succeed I remain that nameless voice if it meant you'd smile."
"If I had the chance I would be your puppet master."
Dance puppet dance. I'd design the elegant sets and choreograph the most beautiful dances for you so I could watch you perform them perfectly every night. As curtain call is rung out I would just observe as you take your bow as long as you laughed.
"If I had the chance I'd be your omnipresent narrator."
I would write an epic tale where you and only you could save the
That moment where everything stopped.
That millisecond after the truth comes out.
That flicker of lost hope in my eyes.
The silence held for days, even weeks after the fact.
And now I've figured it all out.
You never really cared.
I gave you a title, one you never deserved.
One you never even attempted to earn.
But I was stupid, I gave you it.
I guess that's why I'm blaming myself.
Just do me one favour, despite the fact that an idiot like me doesn't deserve it.
When your world crashes down, don't call me your friend.
12. Insanity12. Insanity
It can be clawing at your neck,
Or a stream of tears.
It can be a scream of help,
Or a combination of fears.
It can be a written note,
Or it can vanish into air.
However how it varies,
Depends on the care.
Depends on the family,
Depends on the friends.
Which ever way you word it,
They know it will end.
In death, in pills,
In sin, in pain.
In their mind everything
Will just blend to the same.
For you know,
That in your little head.
There is a voice,
A voice that wants you dead.
Whatever it may be,
Or however it manifests.
When you're insane,
The voice will always protests.
Keep in Touch!
`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More