Tag: poet
-
Hills we die on, hail to the freedom fighters
Floozy is our floating rock, thigh-shower Cold shower, grower not a shower Groves of bee-loud clover and smothering vanilla-headed heather Sacred hawthorne resplendent and thorned, adorned with whitefeather petals Every verdant blend abounds, as if one wore lenses of augmented ferns to lend extra green to what’s beheld. Hills we die on, Ireland our zion…
-
Before I shower
Before I shower, lather myself up Slather bubbles upon flesh marbled, a model a marvel Before I shower you with praise, flatter you red-faced I went in for lemon soap in Sweny’s but they’d only lime And it cost most of a pound that’s the crime of robbery be daylight, be delighted if I’d that…
-
Rites to Summon Dead Kings
A pugil of thyme twisted from the stem by a princess finger, scent lingers long after burning The cooling ashes churned, one mortal hand stirs the mortar which stirs the dirt perhaps to something immortal Portal to pineal reopening, shaking off of ivy on the less-used eye Lantern of Osiris grows outward from the brow,…
-
What the Black Rite Entails
Rocks fisted into the sun at the universe’s fizzing out Planets spinning out of orbit like lubed snooker balls Great avian shrines cloistered in the noisome House of Amenti West of Kemet the domain of Tjemehu, later Libya Funeral shroud hued soils floo the black land of the Pharaohs Black rites enacted in the hidden…
-
Egypt Then
To furthest shores Irish monks trawling for souls set course Thirstier by far for knowledge and lore than word of the lord Fascinated by the law of that older world, its Atlantean splendour Its many mechanical idols and ceaseless batteries flattered the thinkers of that mound-building nation who thought Earth flat Cats given choicest cuts…
Alchemisland 