Cradles and Caskets, Love and Despair.
Hello Creatures of Magick.
Welcome to my humble blog, which will only survive with YOUR feedback.
Here I will post new poems three times a week, but only a few will be mine. This is where you come in! Send me your best poems, and it might get posted. (Credits will be to their original authors, of course.) If your not into writing poetry, you`ll definitely see at least one or two famous poems by your favorite authors (Edgar Allan Poe, Charles Dickinson, Emily Bronte, William Shakespeare, etc..) or some marvelous poems by yet to be famous people.
Express your innermost feelings, your most solemn vows, endless suffering, melancholy memories, daily torment, or bold faced rants.
Let it flow out.


Here are some starter poems.



Otep Shamaya - Suicide Trees
This is a very intelligent and talented artist, I decided to use post this song (Title above) because of my great admiration for this person.
I spent my
whole life
In love with despair
Kept my lungs full
With the breath of their
Mute atmosphere
I became
What I hate
And thus
Shall I remain
To give birth to a
Mighty assasin
Armed with a weapon of words
To defy the lies
To never compromise
No
Today
My name
Is pain
I stood
Beyond the world
Whispering secret syllables in the
Eyeless dark
Dancing wildly
Round and round on the rotting ground
Surrounded by the dead dusts of hell
This is how I delete myself
And this is how I corrupt
Everyone else
Obey
Betray
You are not unique
You do not need to think
Take it
I will
You succumb
So nicely
Like an insect staring back
Like a dying dove
My love

So here we are again
The sheets are staind and bloodied
The animals scratch at my skin
Here we are again
My face is scraped and bloodied

I've nothing left to give

I wasn't there
I'm not involved
I'm innocent
It's not my fault
I wasn't there, I'm not involved, I'm innocent, It's not my fault
Here in the suicide trees

No, bloody, bloody, bloody
Murder
Among the excitement of my sins
It's not happening

So here we are again
In secret ceremonies
Changing shape, amen
Here we are again
Pretending not to notice
The illness sneaking in

I wasn't there
I'm not involved
I'm innocent
It's not my fault
I wasn't there, I'm not involved, I'm innocent, It's not my fault
Here in the suicide trees

Toil and labor, hate your neighbor, faith in favor, obey
Obey
Here I do as I please, obey, here in the suicide trees, obey
Hate your neighbor
Scratch at my skin
It's not happening [until fade out]
(DISCLAIMER)
P.S. Check the song out on youtube.




For A Sad Lady by Dorothy Parker
And let her loves, when she is dead,
Write this above her bones:
"No more she lives to give us bread
Who asked her only stones."


Alone
by Edgar Allan Poe
(published 1875)

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were -- I have not seen
As others saw -- I could not bring
My passions from a common spring --
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow -- I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone --
And all I lov'd -- I lov'd alone --
Then -- in my childhood -- in the dawn
Of a most stormy life -- was drawn
From ev'ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still --
From the torrent, or the fountain --
From the red cliff of the mountain --
From the sun that 'round me roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold --
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass'd me flying by --
From the thunder, and the storm --
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view --



-Consumption-
~ sTr8-jAcKeT ~
Do I thirst for rains that have yet to come,
And await the rivers of remorse?
Or should I feed on destiny,
A slaughter-house that's still on course?

To make one's mind a solid choice,
Takes more than battered dreams.
And the silence one may get to hear,
Reward to those surviving screams.

The tree that wilts & fades away,
A model of our life's dismay.
It blossoms through the raging storms,
A seed that grows 'til it conforms.

Yet far & few, we strive to thrive,
As cactus bound to scorching sands.
And as the drops of life refresh,
Our thorns beware to eager hands.

There are ravens of our own regret,
That wait to pick at our remains.
Of hopelessness that rots away,
Still clinging to abandoned chains.

But if strength breeds within your heart,
And passion's born to you each day.
Then pity not the famished ones,
For they struggle still to find their way.



My Death
~ SinTakai ~
Your image still burns a hole through my head,
Just like your bullet that shot me dead.
Those evil eyes, that vicious sneer,
Told me that you didn't want me here.
How could I explain to one such as you,
The pain and hurt you've put me through.
The tears I cry on sleepless nights,
The blood I shed for needless fights.
The fear that consumes me, body and soul,
And the love that shakes me down to my core.
Because of that love, I keep coming back,
Into your arms, and into your trap.
Just like before, and the times before that,
You push me away and my mind goes of track.
Can I take anymore? Sometimes I wonder,
I wonder if my love is only a blunder.
If maybe I wasn't supposed to exist,
And you only serve to remind me of this.
With your gun to my head, on my knees I sit,
Ready to kill myself, though you beat me to it.
I feel the tears well, but I won't let me cry,
Not as I sit here and look you in the eye.
I pray that you'll see the love that could be,
I pray that you might still somehow want me.
But your evil look stays firmly in place,
The trigger is squeezed and it is too late.
The bullet tears through this thick skull of mine,
But there's no pain as if flies through the other side.
As if from I distance, I see my own body,
It falls to the ground, all beaten and bloody.
My tears they now slip down my pale ghostly face,
While you, my sweet love, stand rooted in place.
Not even so much as a 'What have I done?',
While behind you sets the evening sun.
As the darkness falls, so does my heart,
To know that your hate me has torn me apart.



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