new poetry
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When Alexander McQueen said, give me time and I’ll give you a fucking revolution, I felt that. I felt the latches unlock from their gates one, by one, by one. Magick made a vision for me. The moon took time in its hands crushing it into stars, and kissed my little forehead just so. Every plane… Read more
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Time has a way of gifting its victories, like sunlit garden kisses, sweet with finally, finally, after an age-long dance of longing. Time, make me Virgil. See me toil in the soil of words, black with the wet of lands that shallow hands will never know, ever. Key holder, astral pirate, bring me Keats bones, let me converse with Claudel, how she held the… Read more
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So, it begins. From here, I’ll write bold and mighty, wringing the turning cloth of my sacred robe, until Magick sings my name. My kingdom’s worth its weight in gold, here, and on the astral. I’ll whisper the keys that unlock doors youcould never dream, I’ll run my scythe over the bits that have become… Read more
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I enter the astral, walk gently across the mirror bridge, to stare death and life, winter and spring, in her beautiful face. May she grant me her well wishes for what may come next. Her scythe moves above, singing songs into the wind, her red string weaving, weaving the heavy fates. The fire growing, burning… Read more
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Pass through into night, as the moon rests on the azure blue petals of flowers that open to greet you. Oh, isn’t it you?Master of Thebes, who walks amongst the living, speaking strange enchantments into the hearts of men still unknowing. Khepri turns the globe, glowing smooth up the howling East. Pleasure, joy rapture in… Read more
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Clock my magick eyesthat have dared to dream new realms, those open desertswhere my lion’s paw steps with ease. I’ve come to claim my demons, to lay within the night,knowing it was nevermine to quit but love, and love again in will’s embrace. Fashioning rituals with heavy perfume, bringing the sense to dance in the astral circle, moving clear through the rules you keep. See my… Read more
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the lines are longand stretch downthe street. when you getinside, there’sa waiting roomwith chairs andfree books. all the booksare the self-helptype. titles like‘the power ofpositive thinking.’ boy, do we thinkpositively,as the ladiesfill our cart. two bags ofmacaroni,one box ofpowered mashpotatoes,three cans ofbeans. imagine thefeast! we makemagic out ofnon-perishables. walking back homethrough the slush,two bags undereach… Read more
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the bills are piling up again, but that’s okay, we’ve been herebefore. old veterans of poverty,the highs when it’s good andthe fridge is half full, and the lightshave stayed on for weeks.and the lows, the lows,when the collection notices come,and the cupboards are bare,and you’ve got to decide betweenthe heat or the electric bill. it’s… Read more
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some nights, wedrive uptowninto the privatecul-de-sacsand stare at the big houses.their windowsbright with theorange glowof finer things we trace ourfingertips overthe rooftopsuntil the tilesdissolve intothe midnightblue. and dream the way dreamersdo with anapartmentfit for two. i turn to youand say,“but whatwould we dowith a placelike that?”“we’d neverkeep up onthe cleaning,”you reply. we laugh, driving offlooking… Read more
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Do you crave my wisdom like the salt sea air? Full of ancient riddles, knowing forgotten lands, thick with symbols of the first night on earth. Before the dawn broke and the battles waged, before the relief of light. When you thought fear only lingered in the dark. Before your heart jumped at the shadows… Read more
C.L.Lloyd 