Pagan Poetry – Channeling Badb – Fire child

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Puncture marks punctuate
Torn from bullet wounding points
A cage of overgrown weeds
Deep breaths filling lungs with ache
The moments between chaotic order dissemble
Ties of red chord twisting
Shadow calling in the tears
The point of entry shifted and shifted again
A wall of broken points
Silent wailing phantom echoes
Lesson after lesson of drowning
The absence of fire dancer
Lends to abscessed feet
Only passion burns away the mold
The crackling of the cinder in the bone
Charred and yearning
Hang not from a broken chord
With voice cracking and ebbing
Scream it out into the world
Make it so tangible that it tastes in the mouth
Of all that would deny you
And when they stick their fingers down their throat
To regurgitate a stunted message of growth
You scream again and again and again
Not louder as though engaging in siege warfare
But wiser knowing the ground on which you stand
Is not the decayed decrepit bog they would trap in
But the coals of your own damn magnificence
Burn it all down

– Joey Morris 2017
All my own work and design all rights reserved
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