Skip to content

Alchemisland

Neuralchemy, summoning lost worlds, astral womb knowledge

  • Home
  • Return of the denied

    Say I hate you during lovemaking type. If an owl’s flexile neck borrowed I for short time My eyes might read What along my longing canvas her long, reaving claws inscribed. My ear her mouth our one-counted skins united She squawked unawkwardly a diatribe Pleasure how she expounds Pleasant how when faraway she crowds my…

    alchemisland

    18th Jun 2026
    Filí my pockets
    alchemisland, claws, creative writing, poem, poetry, scars, union
  • Pen made of hatenails and fishbones

    Missiled quill bent on destruction tonight A sulky, unctuous messiah spending wastrelline his bulky ire. I am Barry Lyndon, destined to shine before I, punctured, wilt So I will it. Blooming, at last I will fast brown and deject like an afflicted at my flickering bask. I swim toward that hungry basking shark darkness at…

    alchemisland

    18th Jun 2026
    Filí my pockets
    alchemisland, creative writing, poem, poetry
  • Pictureglossary

    I dream in whipped cream dollops Of mouth-secreted bollocks, Greek frollicks Walloped cheeks, scalloped grieves Atop a peerless stallion my armoured queen Her queerness belies an austere battleneed. Throwing her arm around her green-eyed lover Generously lets me hold her blood-owed spear.

    alchemisland

    18th Jun 2026
    Filí my pockets
    alchemisland, creative writing, poem, poetry
  • Goat-demanded commotion

    Somewhere tucked away, the rite’s subprime location Known to vocational fondlers, perverts, and worshippers of Satan Inside a wrecked church’s remnant transept Half Her statue, the ducts of the Virgin who wept smashed by searchers Blessings expire like third time seductions, we must rebeg; Glories golden at accomplishment’s noisy moment olden to less. I woke…

    alchemisland

    18th Jun 2026
    Filí my pockets
    alchemisland, black mass, creative writing, goat, mendes, poem, poetry, rites, satanism, spellcasting
  • Congealed souls

    I have never needed to be allowed Go without, around, if resistance cows Heeded little the creed of my house Dream, cedar seed, stellar plough and cloud my saviours. My lowing heart gentled now, anxious away from its cave Suddenly seeks out. A single gaze’s loud bleaching Has breached the sealed bastion of my passions…

    alchemisland

    18th Jun 2026
    Filí my pockets
    alchemisland, creative writing, magic, poem, poetry
Previous Page
1 … 37 38 39 40 41 … 672
Next Page

Blog at WordPress.com.

  • Subscribe Subscribed
    Alchemisland
    Join 52 other subscribers.

    Have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.

  • Alchemisland
    View site in Reader
    Manage subscriptionsSign upLog in
    Report this content
    Collapse this bar