Spellcaster: Five

Posted by kitperriman on March 23, 2022

And the pearly moon

smiled

one sliver of glee as the shell tones

of day-play

dissolved to a smudge

on a fading

horizon of ink.

Then she pulsed to the

spangling

words of –

“So mote it be.”

(Photo: Kit Perriman)

Spellcaster: Four

Posted by kitperriman on March 15, 2022

Only the roar prevailed

against timely erosions

which puckered

the skin at the edge

of the gnawing ebb,

discharging on the shoreline

its useless,

unwholesome, and dead.

(Kit Perriman)

(Photo: Public Dmain)

Spellcaster: Three

Posted by kitperriman on February 1, 2022

Peachy clouds shred

the last

veils of shine-time,

draping

their lacy strands

over

violet night’s velvet,

tucking the light in slumber.

(Kit Perriman)

(Photo: Kit Perriman)

The Goddess Within

Posted by kitperriman on January 17, 2022

When they thought us wicked, we were really wise

In the Burning Times of world despise,

They named us as tricksters, blamed things dark and worse,

Called cunning and wile a demon’s curse.

Heaven and the Underworld, summoned at will,

Crept on cat-paws to nurture or thrill,

Reading vain futures – balancing humors –

Attending births and healing tumors.

Folklore has always survived the Dark Ages . . .

They’ll never destroy the timeless Sages.

(Kit Perriman)

(Picture: Public Domain)

Spellcaster: Two

Posted by kitperriman on January 12, 2022

Curled waves

washed footsteps

and melted down sands

into flat unnamed moon dust,

identity

smoothed back to

nothingness

by pre-ordained pulsing.

(Kit Perriman)

(Photo: Public Domain)

Spellcaster: One

Posted by kitperriman on January 5, 2022

SPELLCASTER: ONE

A molten sphere

slid off

the raw edge of evening

like a thumb-spun doubloon

arching the air

before

sinking below denim fields.

(Kit Perriman)

(Photo: Kit Perriman)

On Edge

Posted by kitperriman on December 13, 2021

EDGE

(Sylvia Plath)

“. . . The moon has nothing to be sad about,

Staring from her hood of bone.

She is used to this sort of thing.

Her blacks crackle and drag.”

(Photo: Kit Perriman)

My Kind

Posted by kitperriman on December 3, 2021

I have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil

From “Her Kind” (Anne Sexton)

(Photo: Kit Perriman)

Fairy Dust

Posted by kitperriman on November 9, 2021

FAIRY DUST

A few wires –

a leap from reality –

and Peter Pan took flight

through fairy dust

in front of us

on an ordinary weekday night.

And glitter

shone in the eyes of the child

sat there all evening

stock still – grinning –

finger in mouth –

catching his breath and believing

every tick

of the crocodile’s tock-clock,

and each brave sword blow,

walking the plank –

taking the plunge –

without ever needing to slow.

And I ask

myself why the magic is

sham and corrupt,

in failing to

ward off those

pirates of old – our growing up?

(Kit Perriman)

(Degrassi Wiki Gif in Public Domain)

Fear

Posted by kitperriman on October 20, 2021

FEAR

I slid through the gap and into a spiraling whirlpool,

landed inside the gray with a nauseous splash.

Trees stood stripped of dignity, shuddering in the twilight

of winter, naked but broiling with torturous stakes.

As branches drowned in the wake of death their fingers pointed

through ripples pungent with sulfur and blue, bruised blood.

Shock took captive my slipping heart, which spluttered against the

ominous fog creeping in to steal my good eye.

(Kit Perriman)

(Photo: Public Domain)

Kit Perriman

The Hill – A Historical Novel About Witches

Tag Archives: poetry

Spellcaster: Five

Spellcaster: Four

Spellcaster: Three

The Goddess Within

Spellcaster: Two

Spellcaster: One

On Edge

My Kind

Fairy Dust

Fear