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Alchemisland

Neuralchemy, summoning lost worlds, astral womb knowledge

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  • Tarother

    One gay fool – phrase take using retired use Debuts his newest jewels, to boos. Day’s drool, cruel sun spits camelly lake-drying humors. My heart an aching pit of limb-taking stakes and rumours. My love is a removals van, My result is empty spans. A moment’s sample of their vantage Served to make all I…

    alchemisland

    16th Jun 2026
    Filí my pockets
    alchemisland, creative writing, poem, poetry
  • Riverlover’s birdwritten ode (Brinefoot’s reel)

    Entropy essential to essence; Apoptosis in a cosy sentence, To end it, ’tis mere senescence. In built, dead we are sent to birth The womb our berth a bilge Reading light leant by burst stars we greedily pilfer. Durst gallant be I? Brief silver flower out, crowded light Unwilting rose of Galilee, shower my Patient…

    alchemisland

    16th Jun 2026
    Filí my pockets
    alchemisland, creative writing, poem, poetry
  • Flowering

    Poppy allowance Not between crosses row on row Beneath debris once French houses Whole or powdered. Evil flowers and I’m all about it. From dunes to palms to junkie’s arms within hours Pleasure is my house, rose redolent, posie mouthed Space phone to room service, shouting like a marooned Further servings needed urgent. Urging birds…

    alchemisland

    16th Jun 2026
    Filí my pockets
    alchemisland, creative writing, poem, poetry
  • Oral pigmentation

    Weed strength Clark Gable Answered “Yes” to “Available?” Yesterday’s cologne, smelling like a Boots Tester’s clothes Took her to The Gables for steaks, mid range wine, chocolate fudge cake Afterwards she chewed my cable during The Traitors, clueless Garraway Dodgy box no cable Annual payment to a flat off Capel Rogered her box no rubber…

    alchemisland

    15th Jun 2026
    Filí my pockets
    alchemisland, art, creative writing, poem, poet, poetry, writing
  • Following broken surf to an erstwhile desert made of now-dust once-certainty

    My soul became So blotted a page Nothing white cotton remained. Something’s stuck in my eye I had to say. Through at fugitive pace The churned way she has assuredly taken, Where the lurid and satyr find their safe haven.

    alchemisland

    15th Jun 2026
    Filí my pockets
    alchemisland, creative writing, poem, poetry
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