Forever the RavenousBeyond the veil hallowed, I am Witches blood & wine;
flame of throne, soothsayer & death, magick seething
Come hither; drink me dark'n divine
Whispers of Night's harvest, ravenous in twilight eerie;
— tongues of Crows in gothic serenade
Poised in wilderness shadowed, I beseech thee:
"O' darkest Love, seek me in decay, dripping from thy lips"
Incantations of the Moon glisten from mine eyes ...
Seraphic-winds undress Demons in the trees;
— dreaming streams o'er Nature's breast
Black-feathered-Priests covet my nocuous splendor
— For I am Winter's nocturne —
a dark-mantra, salivating on the edge of the world
And so she peered into the embers of my soul —
cloaked in a dream, falling, where savage wings fly
Thou art the evening tide... the mystique I shall love;
Evermore, unto a sea of black roses, from grave to sky
— Arthur Crow © 2012
The FallingThe Falling
Upon malodorous rapture of orphaned darkness,
eternal melancholy becomes twisted and hollow
In the severed reflections of sanguine shadows,
we will drown in ruby tears of pain and sorrow
Whispers of odium seep gently into my dreams...
The Raven lingers in solemn clouds dark as coal
My blood surges like a chorus of bitter requiem
And my lips the anathema of your dying soul
Dark lust hums like a cold tide of weeping voices
Perfumed in ash & bone, hallucinations imbue
Blood soaked robes hang from my slender bride,
shimmering like scarlet threads under ebon skies
After sable petals fall upon my beloved's grave,
there will dwell but ravaged winds of lonely cries
O' Witch of mine, dark'n dreary, forsake me not
In a sombre kiss, veiled in falls of ambient pitch,
we drift into the renaissance of the Falling...
ever dreaming and bathing in the poetry of death
In the web of mortality demons haunt & undress,
Deep in the gloaming, I beseech thy last breath
My thirst seeth
Upon A kiss of Wild ThingsLike the frosts spread across valleys silent and dreary
Ever my longing lost in shimmers of shadow & wind
And days bled into years.. the tides became deserts
Thru seasons untamed, I hunted and found her gaze,
peering in a song deep and hallowed
Horizons quivered like ghosts cast in Winter’s dream
— where hearts once bloomed a fabled sky
Lest the Moon would bestow solace upon my dread:
I am but madness, haunted by her solemn breath
My soul shall yield to this mythic abyss —
wandering forests bereft of Autumn’s decree
We are warriors in a ballet of snow darkly falling;
betwixt worlds forgotten, and lives entombed ...
‘Whispers in the mist — two spirits — forever calling
— Arthur Crow © 2013
Sanctum of Wine and Shadow
Upon one Night's tempest, my hunger did beckon ever darkly:
"In nomine dei Nostri Satanas Luciferi Excelsi!"
And in the perfume of immortality, I bathed deep and long ....
Within the labyrinth of melancholy, I am the black flame gleaming;
befallen in the mist when closed thine eyes
Harken thee, River's blush weeping scarlet in nocturnal ballad
In orphaned prophecy, I am the lust of sacrament —
dark enchantment wanton — Hade's syrup undressing in your soul
I have crossed oceans of time, haunted by thy gaze and lips,
lost in whispers of passion dripping like song into folding horizons
Eons spent, yet thy figure dark, I crave solemn upon Raven's call
For thou art the breath of a rose entombed in velvet-nightfall ...
'Our lives are but confessions of beasts and things forsaken;
— woven into a bloody tapestry of a Lover's fable
My wound is the requiem of the sky, the exodus of daylight
Across sanguine fields I hath sojourned, coveting winds sable
Seek you me, for
Hunting Avalon's MoonBeneath a sky of Kings, mortal life quivered
Warm rains spilled a fever of unborn dreams;
— like a silent song of golden pollen falling in
timeless reverie, seeding forests arcane
The dawn of enchantment crested ancient lands,
adorning the hunger of shadows and spirits
Long I stood in the flow of primeval rapture...
where unto the hallowed beckoned wild
I slept in the cradle of Nature's magick,
windswept in feasts of tongue & flame
Dreams and dreamers, in haste I did reap
And I thrusted my sword into the sky
Ever night's bequest, the stars shall not die
Thru seasons of fabled rhythms I roamed;
— my soul etched into the mists of time
O'er pastel fields, untamed memories seek
In a circle of Kings, I shimmered in ebon robes
Perfumed eyes gathered like nightingales
And I watched upon gossamer tides —
Merlin caught her gaze resting among
the promise of stars and beloved Moon
"Thou art heavenly clad in velvet starlight"
She fled upon his song & wept in quietude,
I Am Nosferatu
And he rose like a dream shrouded in obsidian
“Blood the sky!” – bewailed ravenous eyes ..
‘Upon a world solemn; and the dead betrothed
Where lust a river dark, my ache roams wild
Many moons spent wither’d in winds dreary;
naked in breath of whispered-flame & wine
O’ darkly I hear thee my beloved enchant,
thy seraphic-tongue dripping in Night’s mist
Thou art the evening tide flooding my soul,
— gossamer-wings of a gothic serenade ...
Seek you mine lips in a song of shadows
For in immortal sin we shall not wane
Unto a sea of crimson, my love hath assail’d
From Earth to tomb, I am death & hallowed
— Arthur Crow © 2013
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
Pools of amaranthine spill from mine eyes
Her ebon hair dripping in the evening tide
I rest my lips upon visage of thy fabled kiss
Thou art my darkest Witch — the wilderness
of a thousand spectre’s lusting ...
And unto this primeval calling, we shall seed
Poised in hallowed nightscapes caressing,
I brood and ponder ....
The Chant of GOTHIC POISONThere upon clandestine fires of a midnight sky,
the world of forbidding awaits the dead
And we chant for our blood in Winter fields..
— In the feasts of the burning, I will be fed
Where solemn-lovers bewail o’er rivers dark,
the wilderness of the Moon falls into silence
Covet my love in a tempest of sangromancy,
for I bathe in the fever of serpents sleeping
Our ancestors float upon a song of thorns,
fading into a sea of amaranthine ..
The ebb of magick spills from trees seething
Crimson-feather’d-demons loom & seek
Within gardens covered in moss and decay,
the song of Gothic poison will tomb the weak
We rise in the requiem of a dethroned sky,
— blushing in the perfume of liquid-night
Behold the immortals! Otherworld’s we fly
I peered deep untamed-wounds whispering;
— intoxicated horizons naked and dripping
Spirits of the dead linger in broken twilight
The winds of Samhain rush thru my veins ...
Wings take flight in acid-shot dreamscapes
THE CROWGlistening feathers,
Blacker than the darkest night
A specter weaving through the clouds
Majestic is his flight
Piercing eyes reach into my soul
From the netherworld he will come
When I am no longer whole
Spawned from the magick of old
In a lingering mist he waits
Cast in velvet shadows so cold
Roses fall upon my grave
Talons clasp my fading spirit
A fallen love will he save
Shrieks echo across a leaden sky
Life descends to the arms of death
Scarlet tears begin to fly
Memories my heart cannot sever
Broken dreams whisper —
real love is forever
— Arthur Crow © 2012
MissionaryWhen he first saw her
she appeared unique to all things,
and the day they met, he already knew.
It was during their first time,
the way planets come and go
as time loses count of their orbit.
It never seems to end, then he
growls low in her ear as she swoons,
of how missionary will never
be the same for him again.
Lost In The World Part 2
Katrina sat on the ground for as long as she could. Rebecca was with so much childish energy that Katrina had to stand and play police woman with her. Rebecca found the attention to be fun and entertaining.
An hour went by and the light butterfly had not returned. Katrina felt concerned about what it could possibly mean.
Then, about 10 minutes later, the light butterfly comes flapping into the basement and started to fly around Katrina. Rebecca stopped her playing ways and looked at the butterfly in awe.
"The light from the world what have you found? Please speak only truth," said Katrina.
In an eerier female echo voice it said, "The parents of Rebecca Cooley are located an hour north of here on foot. Follow the main road north and you will find them in a forest like setting surrounded by cement and stone heads". With that the butterfly extinguished its flames and disappeared.
we found love in the mondegreensea fox
conflate by starfish
shimmer in soft waves
the tender turn; toss among these things
squeezing between the mondegreen softly,
as with the lilt of ocean
seashell breaths crept
soft dawn of day
i slipped from your arms
once hiding myself in love's cocoon
spring always seemed to cry for us
kiss us goodnight neath the stars
the swallow of wings
The SilmarilsGlowing forever in the light of the trees
Touched by Varda's ever-holy hand
And described as thus in the Eldar's decrees
As the only light left in the land.
Bringers of harm and center of strife
Base of an Oath sworn in pride
Causing brothers to take up the knife
And trek across Ea, far and wide
Reason for murder and naming of Morgoth
Passing hands from the light to the dark
These things holy and the wrath they wrought
These crystals three, last lights spark.
But they could not exist lest they cause slaughter
So One to the sky, that it might rise higher
And One to the oceans, bathed forever in water
And One to the earth, to sink in man's fire.
This beauty now gone, the Eldar now torn
Faenor banished, filled forever with scorn
But forever for him shall the Noldor mourn
Their rightful high king, from the day he was born.
NYX KOSMOKRATOR (greek/french/english)Κοσμοκρατόρισσα
Ονειρεύομαι πως βλέπω, επιτέλους
να σκεπάζει την Ελλάδα
τα λευκά κύματα της ακτής
κεντημένα με φεγγάρι
και το γαλανόλευκο του πάγου
Με πυρσούς Αιθέρα
στα τρυφερά σου
Pride of a Nationfear coalesced with doubt, crystallizing in the pit of her
stomach—intestines rotting with hatred, she prayed as
the men passed by, eyes tightened against winter winds
while drums beat to a somber march…her heart dropped,
cerulean blood pooling around the soles of her feet, hidden
from the oxygen filled air none of them could help but breathe
as the torches’ fire filled the sky and knapsacks overran with
precious goods…flee the city, they all did, with the pride of Russia
behind them, their homes lay as ashes and towns known only by
their wooden signs…snow shrouded the land and covered the people
born in a winter only world—she took a single breath and turned away
facing a new fate, one buried in snow no different from where she came.
The Devil's SonnetBleed your heart to cast my ink
Then sign upon the flesh and skin
For madness hangs upon the brink
Where you drown in poisoned sin.
And eyes I stole from lovers' sights
shall deem with only me to kiss and lie
Reclaim on those stolen lusty nights
When letters bind the name and tie.
Can you catch the devil's tongue?
It's twisted within your own
And can you claim this deed so wrong
When all hope of redemption had flown?
Think with thoughts as black as coal
To match the state of your sold soul.
we marchwe march;
hailing from cavities filled with determination
and fruitless dreams shaken, not stirred
into our very own resilient rhythm,
comes our transformation from insignificant individuals
to "virtuous, momentous" society.
thriving with courage and dead chivalry, pike-eyed;
we live in servitude, fortitude for every day
is a new day, a new sun rising,
a virgin horizon to conquer
and put to test the palpable promise of our familial ties
and, as we sizzle in sweltering heat,
we stay busy keeping course,
bearing in mind that our fertile goddesses labor
alongside us, before us, for us;
birthing and binding almost every bit of this terra firma.
with our deeply dug out raw, ruby nails,
we set forth working from dusk to dawn
with every ounce of ourselves,
with our invasive trust in our collective working where
not one has ever escaped/gone astray.
along, mound minded as we push forward
till completion of our life cycle, we live each day;
minding no one
A Tale of Elves and Fairies
At a time, when humans still believed in faeries and elves, they possessed power. A power of which they were not conscious. They created what they thought and only by their will-power the fabulous creatures of their fantasies came to life. So it happened that the lonely dark woods were suddenly populated by gentle wood spirits. Delicate elves, dainty nymphs, graceful little fairies swinging themselves from branch to branch left sparkling stardust on their ways. A wonderful mystical world was arisen und its habitants were just waiting for assisting humanity. Those who were desperate and sad could call them and they always came to help. Then it happened that the humans forgot the magical realm and a dark age began.
The humans had forgotten that they only need to believe for to see. Those who were desperate stayed alone and those being worried found no comfort any longer. The elven realm existed further on but it fell into oblivion. Humanity had become blind. Hundreds of years pass
Shaman StrangerHe shared his secrets with the tribe
they all sat intensely around the fire at night
the cold of the air, danced all around them.
Secrets unleashed, summoned demons, reaping realms.
He told them of the plague and the medicines to cure.
They sat around in awe as the stories grew intense.
About demons and monsters, and battles defense.
And the beasts wore souls over their faces.
To bruise their senses over the ages.
They asked of his healings and how he survived.
His responces were vivid, and brought up through life.
Death surrounds vallys and mountains and seas.
Healing the monsters with souls for their beings.
Water from springs, condensed to a vile.
He passed it around to preserve the quiet Nile.
They shared the water and memories fell
from the past to deal water, from the crystalized well.
He rattled his staff to accommodate the tales.
They all sat in silence, as the grace of him fell.
A master of fables, they were all in his grasp.
Like thunder before lighting, in a gallo