Notice of absence from HannahElisabeth
Taking a long overdue mental health vacation. I will check in when I can.
Taking a long overdue mental health vacation. I will check in when I can.
You feel like sunlight
Glinting off my skin
Burn me with your passion
They tell me this is sin
You feel like lightning
Coursing through my veins
A dark and sordid magick
Unholy and profane
There is no amount of holy water
There is no saving grace
To break the spell I’m under
At your mercy
Yours to take
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Author:
HannahElisabeth (
Offline) - Published: August 9th, 2021 15:11
- Comment from author about the poem: I'm curious to see how people interpret this...
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 36
Offline)
Comments4
Excellent! Makes me think of a time when I was in love with someone who I knew wasn't good for me but I couldn't end it. A fine bit of writing here Hannah🙂
Coyote, you hit the nail right on the head. Funnily enough, I wrote this when things were good and it had a very different connotation in my mind. Looking back now, it's strange to think I subconsciously knew it wouldn't end well. Thank you for the kind words, and I'm sorry you resonate with the sentiment. I posted this in hopes of letting go.
Being no great fan of love poetry, I’m pleased this is about lust if it is focused on that area at all.
A key description for me would be obsession, and this could be with many or any of life’s varied aspects. The only flaw with that argument is that there exists a certain personification there….must have been lust......and power....Aaah!!
Well I have good news for you my friend, lust is probably the most apt term for it in hindsight.
I have too much fun contrasting religion with witchcraft. There's definitely a lot more hidden meaning here but it's far more entertaining to leave the interpretation up to the reader...
Fun for whom?
I fear we are going to be at odds here, HannahE.
I have a commitment to plain unambiguous communication – which makes me quite possibly an anomaly on a poetry site; perhaps I should leave (chorus of ‘hoorahs’ from somewhere) – except I’m not going anywhere.
I couldn’t make the connection between the title and the piece, so ignored the title – my error.
However, obscurity is not something I am particularly fond of, so I will either ignore your poetry when in this mode or come in at the bottom as an irritant…… lol
I respect the commitment to straightforward language, I feel the same way about interpersonal communications in everyday life. I'm usually neck deep (sorry, another metaphor) in APA papers so I'm no stranger to the importance of unambiguous language.
As for poetry, well it would appear you're already aware of your predicament. Your presence certainly makes for entertaining banter though. You probably won't enjoy much of my work sadly. It's my escape to play with metaphors and suggestive language.
As for the title, black magick is used for selfish and often nefarious means in the world of witchcraft. And I'm sure you're no stranger to the history of Christianity persecuting witches for "devil worship" and all that jazz. The rest is up to your imagination. Your engaging commentary is always welcome, if you can bear to read my work that is... lol
Yes – even if I didn’t make it obvious, I was aware that your ‘day job’ would require that rigid level of prose, that here was a release, a relief. Sorry for that.
I have no time for either religion or ‘magick’ (not to be confused with illusionists, which challenge the limits of our perception)
I will certainly read your work for sure, and within my limited capacity attempt to remain….supportive….positive….
Hannah, the interpretation is ALWAYS up to the reader... But you know that. The most important thing in existence as far as I am concerned is passion. It can be miserable, painful, tear your soul apart from unrequited longing, jealousy, and exhaustion. You nailed it for me.
jarcher54, precisely! You get it. I wholeheartedly agree; a life without passion is far worse than the pain of losing it. Thank you for taking the time to read and share!
steamy, daringly so
a cute write,
we're all wonderfully different, aren't we
some like to shake the tree
and in the unfurling confusion
find their worth, in that capacity to cultivate chaos;
thanks for sharing
Is it cultivating chaos,
or perhaps,
finally making peace with it?
Peace, realised in the eye of the storm
of your own making
is a mirage at best
wilfully self-indulgent, at its very worst
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