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Harlots Be Honoured
Man is polygamous; he cannot be chained.
Wives must be safe; hence prostitution.
Its eradication is like blocking sewage.
Exit of prostitution will invites adultery
And wives are not safe; husbands insecure.
Don’t condemn harlots; don’t contempt harlots.
Harlots are as good as any woman.
Stigma attached to them be cut off.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dragula
Dragula
Dead I am the one, exterminating son
Slipping through the trees, strangling the breeze
Dead I am the sky, watching angels cry
While they slowly turn, conquering the worm
Dig through the ditches,
Burn through the witches
I slam in the back of my
Dragula
Dig through the ditches,
Burn through the witches
I slam in the back of my
Dragula
Dead I am the pool, spreading from the fool
Weak and want you need, nowhere as you bleed
Dead I am the rat, feast upon the cat
Tender is the fur, dying as you purr
Dig through the ditches,
Burn through the witches
I slam in the back of my
Dragula
Dig through the ditches,
Burn through the witches
I slam in the back of my
Dragula
Do it baby, do it baby
Do it baby, do it baby
Burn like an animal
Dead I am the life, dig into the skin
Knuckle crack the bone, 21 to win
Dead I am the dog, hound of hell you cry
Devil on your back, I can never die
Dig through the ditches,
Burn through the witches
I slam in the back of my
Dragula
Dig through the ditches,
Burn through the witches
I slam in the back of my
Dragula
Do it baby, do it baby
Do it baby, do it baby
Burn like an animal
Dig through the ditches,
Burn through the witches
I slam in the back of my
Dragula
Dig through the ditches,
Burn through the witches
I slam in the back of my
Dragula
Dig through the ditches,
Burn through the witches
I slam in the back of my
Dragula
song performed by by Rob Zombie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A major difference between witches and psychotherapists is that witches see the mental health of women as having important political consequences.
quote by Naomi R. Goldenberg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Although the most acute judges of the witches and even the witches themselves, were convinced of the guilt of witchery, the guilt nevertheless was non-existent. It is thus with all guilt.
quote by Friedrich Nietzsche
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lady Evil
Theres a place just south of witches valley
Where they say the wind wont blow
And they only speak in whispers of a name
Theres a lady they say who feeds the darkness
It eats right from her hand
With a crying shout shell search you out
And freeze you where you stand
Lady evil, evil
Shes a magical, mystical woman
Lady evil, evil in my mind
Shes queen of the night
All right!
In a place just south of witches valley
Where they say the rain wont fall
Thunder cracks the sky, it makes you bleed
Theres a lady they say who needs the darkness
She cant face the light
With an awful shout, shell find you out
And have you before the night
Lady evil, evil
Shes a magical, mystical woman
Lady evil, evil on my mind
Shes queen of the night
So if you ever get to witches valley
Dont dream or close your eyes
And never trust your shadow in the dark
cause theres a lady I know who takes your vision
And turns it all around
The things you see are what youll be, lost and never found
Lady evil, evil
Shes a magical, mystical woman
Lady evil, evil on my mind
Shes queen of the night
Gonna do you right!
Shes the queen of sin
Look out, shell pull you in!
Lady wonder!
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Want To Be A Real Big Witch
You want to really be a witch?
Well...
I knew some pretty wicked witches,
Who...
Made me pitch to them,
Many a fit.
And I split.
You want to be a real big witch,
Well...
I knew some pretty wicked witches,
Who...
Made me pitch to them,
Many a fit.
And I split.
You want to be the biggest at the ball of all witches,
Don't you?
You do.
Don't you.
You do.
Don't you.
You do.
And you're proving it too!
You do.
You want to be the biggest at the ball of all witches...
Don't you?
You do.
Don't you?
You want to be a real big witch,
Don't you?
You want to be the biggest at the ball of all witches.
You want to be a real big witch,
Don't you?
You want to be the biggest at the ball of all witches.
You want to be a real big witch,
Don't you?
You want to be a real big witch,
Don't you?
You want to be a real big witch,
Don't you?
You want to be a real big witch.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Here!
Men of god sent it away with verses of their holy book
Sun for our day
Moon for night.
Teachers sent it away with the light of their chalk
Sun for our day
Moon for night.
Bankers sent it away with the disco dance of their pen
Sun for day
Moon for our night.
Lawmen sent it away with quotations, wigs, and guns
Sun for our day
Moon for our night.
Doctors sent it away with piercing needle
Sun for our day
Moon for our night.
President and his men banished them
Sun for our day
Moon for our night.
Women are witches
Men are wizards
In gloom, we mate
Give birth and breed
With graves everywhere.
poem by Alade Abayomi IdrisWhite
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Try To Think Why Her Answer Always Ends In A No
May be she is trapped inside a water droplet
Resting on a green leaf
Of a rose plant
in the eden garden
The garden has a fairy
the fairy has a curse
the curse has a name
the name has a price
There are witches in the story
The witches are very bad
They rob the the flowers of smell
And kill the fairy’s smile
One day, a little boy
with a little heart
and two teddy bears
walks along that way
He kisses and walk -
The jasmine and the daisies
The lilac and the lilies
The roses and the fairies.
The rose has a name
It holds a dropp of love
The kiss is a game
Pushes the dropp of love
The lady in the droplet
Falls down the leaves
The boy leaps down
To hold it before breaks
The droplet breaks
The water splinters
the boy drops his heart
and break it into pieces
The girl is freed
The boy is dying
The girl does cry
The boy does smile
The fairy is sad
The witches are mad
The fairies are hot
The witches are not
The flowers smell beautiful
The fairy can smile
The curse is broken
The price has been paid
The battle is set,
The flowers decide to bet
The fairies will rollover
But witches are no pushover.
The fight is fought
The witches are lost
The fairies win
And everybody grins
The boy is dead
With a broken heart
The fairies believe
They can bring him back
The fairies promise
About magic and sorcery
The life is simple
We can buy again like grocery
The shopping is a trap
You buy one
You get one free.
Here the witches are free
The girl is trapped
Between pain and love
She things again
And decides its a no
poem by Chelliah Pandian
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Four Witches From Nowishes
On broom sticks road four young witches
from a far off land of Nowishes.
They wore tall hats upon their heads
in their hands, were apples they'd painted red.
To tempt the children on Halloween night
of candies from neighbors they'd gleaned.
For these four were not allowed you see
in the land of Nowishes, candy was never tasted or seen.
They wanted a taste of all those sugary delights
thoughts of candy danced in their heads
while on their broomsticks flight.
Swooping down, grabbing bags of tasty treats
leaving red apples, then flying off to eat.
Beware on Halloween night to hang on to your bags
you may be visited by four young witches
with rotted teeth of old hags!
You may see them as you glance at the moon
Coming from the land of Nowishes,
with painted apples on brooms.
poem by Linda Winchell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Burn the Witches
Burn the witches, burn the witches,
don't take time to sew your stitches
Burn the witches, burn the witches
Good is the thing that you favor, evil is your sour flavor
You cannot sedate all the things you hate
Burn your bridges, burn your bridges,
don't take time to sew your stitches
Burn your bridges, burn your bridges
Good is the thing that you favor, evil is your sour flavor
I don't need your hate, I decide my fate
You cannot sedate all the things you rape
poem by Jacob Bryant
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Strange Same Dogma
Burn the witches. Burn the witches
Don't take time to sew the stitches
Burn the witches. Burn the witches
Don't take time to sew the stitches
Hand shake, ring sign, snake eye, bite mine
Hand shake, ring sign, snake eye, bite mine
I don't need your hate
I decide my fate
Burn your bridges. Burn your bridges
Don't take time to sew the stitches
Burn your bridges. Burn your bridges
Don't take time to sew the stitches
Levi, Crowley, Golden Dawn
Strange same dogma, on and on
I don't need your hate
I decide my fate
We don't viscerate
Your mind masturbates
song performed by by Marilyn Manson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Witches' Glen - An Auld Tale
Gather aroon the ingle nuek
For ae eerie tale I'll tell -
'Boot a glen whar a witchy spook
Cast folk in her terrible spell.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
Warlocks an witches dance at night
When the full-moon turns its ken!
Thunder rides on a bolt of light
The deil's in the witches' glen!
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
Auld trees hang o'er the twisted wynd
An' blot oot the licht o' day;
An there, there's staring eyes tae find
A stranger wha's lost their way.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
Frae Grennan wood she hailed an flew
A flash thru the black night wind
Come witchin hour everyin knew
She'd get a' the folks wha sinned.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
They burned her on Kirkmaiden hill
An' they bound her on a stake:
She chanted spells that made 'em ill
An' they pray'd for Jesus' sake.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
When ere ye walk the witches' glen,
Whar branches stretch oot like hands
Tak' Bible, cross an' say, Amen!
An' heed the guid Lord's commands.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she's still there tae be seen.
poem by Patrick Scott Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Woman Of Salem
1692, six in the morning of june,
Sally kegley, age thirty-four,
Closed her diary shed kept for two scores.
Salem, salem, witches must be hung.
Let my daughter burn my book,
Let her learn to sew and cook.
Teach her not to read but weave,
Ask her not to speak but weep.
Salem, salem, witches must be hung.
Sally kegley knows how to cure the ill,
Sally kegley sees through us at will.
Salem, salem, witches must be hung.
All the towns people rushing to the hill,
Their eyes shining, ready for the kill.
Sallys flesh bound to the cross,
Her eyes searching for the ones who are close.
Oh, why? oh, why? oh, why? oh, why?
Oh, why? why? why? why? why? why? why?
Help! help! help! help!
Help! help! help! help!
Must kill, must hang, must kill, must hang,
Must kill, must hang, must kill, must hang,
Must kill, must hang, must kill, must hang,
Must kill, must hang...
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dogma
Burn the witches, burn the witches, dont take time to sew your your stitches
Burn the witches, burn the witches
Good is the thing that you favor, evil is your sour flavor
You cannot sedate all the things you hate
Burn your bridges, burn your bridges, dont take time to sew your stitches
Burn your bridges, burn your bridges
Good is the thing that you favor, evil is your sour flavor
I dont need your hate, I decide my fate
You cannot sedate, all the things you rape
song performed by by Marilyn Manson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bitterliciousness
Whatever is said,
To ignite their taste for a fight...
It will be stirred and heated.
And brewed overnight.
The more the petty,
It is better loved like that!
Easier to scoop wickedness to dish,
From motorized mouths cussed filled.
As if on their lips...
There is a bitterliciousness,
Craved.
And there's no getting enough of it!
Not these days.
Whatever is said,
To ignite their taste for a fight...
It will be stirred and heated.
And brewed overnight.
These warlocks and witches were bred,
To entice...
Incitement.
These warlocks and witches were fed,
To bite, sting and leave their evil.
The more the petty,
It is better loved like that!
Easier to scoop wickedness to dish,
From motorized mouths cussed filled.
As if on their lips...
There is a bitterliciousness,
Craved.
And there's no getting enough of it!
Not these days.
These warlocks and witches were bred,
To entice...
Incitement.
These warlocks and witches were fed,
To bite, sting and leave their evil.
And be praised for the blood that oozes.
No matter whose it is!
Or to whom their deeds are inflicted.
These warlocks and witches were bred,
To entice...
Incitement.
On hint!
And that is the focus of their principle.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Night Of Horror
Night draw closer
like plague,
leaving me in wonderland
for I know not where I belong.
Night‘re for victorious
Night‘re for victim.
The victim is the man;
the victory is for the witches
every night they haunt
my armedless soul. (I dread to night)
Every night‘re nightmares,
They slain my dream
and murder became the
fate of my sleep
Every night they claim
my peace;
the peace that goes with nightfall
and left me to the luxury
of nothing but fear.
Fearing for the night
fearing for nothing,
yet I'm fearing for everything
fearing, and mere fear;
fearing that tonight
they might wash
them guilty hands in my blood
like they did with Caesar's
Night are filled with everything
Yet nothing come to your aid.
Night are brighten by stars
Yet darkness crown we head
I dread night fall.
The hoots of owl
Flames my disgust
For night fall.
The noise from their vocal piece
Make me mistake my dreams
For illusions;
I dread might fall
For at night my soul
Die a thousand time before
Cockcrow.
poem by Matthias Pantaleon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Friendly fragrance of the night flowers
Some they bloom in the night
While the other flowers, bees and butterflies were slept.
A way lost desperate hornet comes and verifies;
'Are these tears or dew my dearest,
So warm under the Moonlit night? '
'It's a mixture of dew and tears comrade,
A fine elixir that keeps you young forever if you taste.
And do not bother to wake up in the broad daylight.
Brother you can jump into a sound sleep indeed
until you come again to my Promise land.'
Queen of the night played her role very efficiently.
* Dedication to poor harlots for their eternal struggle.
Also to my new Irish friend Todd Hatchard who's a short story writer accidentally I met him in Huntington Beach on St.Patrick's day.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Books and harlots have their quarrels in public.
quote by Walter Benjamin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Season of the Witch
Most of the country is hushed out there
As the Moon climbs over the hill,
The creatures out in the wild beware
And the air is breathless, still,
The deer is stood at the edge of the wood
Afraid to go in too soon,
With the animals skittish, out in the yard
A hare stares up at the Moon.
There's something amiss in the air tonight
Both furtive and dark, unclean,
Shadows are lurking by old stone walls
In wait for a sign to be seen,
The men all sit in a vacant trance
As the women go out by the ditch,
Wearing their smoke-black cloaks in the dance
For the Season of the Witch.
Then like the flutter of vampire bats
The witches take to their brooms,
Hang on to their tall black pointed hats
And fly low over the tombs,
They head in a swarm up Gallows Hill
Fulfilling some ancient rite,
While watchful eyes at the window-sill
Will get little sleep this night.
For Alison, Lindy, Carmen and Deb
Are watching their mothers leave,
Tucked into bed as their mothers' fled
The girls creep out to deceive,
Pulling the curtains aside they see
The flight go over the hill,
And hear the cackling sounds of glee,
Then the air is cold and still.
Then Lindy calls to the other three
Through the window out to the farm:
‘Let's climb up there, where we all can see
What they're doing from high in the barn! '
So they dress themselves in their winter cloaks
And they put on their witches hats
That the mothers had made for Halloween,
Had decorated with bats.
They climbed up over the stacked up hay
To the roof of the timbered barn,
And they peered from the moonlit bullock dray
To the trees by the hilltop farm,
But the witches danced in a grove of trees
Quite hidden from anyone's sight,
‘Let's take our brooms, ' said Alison Keys
‘And fly while the Moon is bright! '
‘Let's fly while the Moon is bright, ' she said,
So they stood at the edge of the hay,
Looked down to the old paved cattle yard
And the tractor, over the way.
‘We saw them fly, we can do it too,
We're witches tonight, we've seen!
Tonight is the magical mystery night
For witches - it's Halloween! '
They mounted their broomsticks, held their breath
Then leapt each one with a scream,
They dropped like stones to the cattle yard
On the night of Halloween,
They were found impaled on the thresher blades
That was parked beside the ditch,
And the screams could be heard a mile away
In the Season of the Witch!
15 October 2012
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oh, Halloween Eve
Owls are screeching
It’s icy cold outside,
The wind is howling
Leaves crackle under feet
On neighbor’s porches,
Glowing pumpkins greet
Arms are reaching
For candy baskets,
Kids are seeking
Shadows creep up on you
You almost scream,
When ghosts fly by n’ go boo!
Witches everywhere
On scruffy brooms,
Fly thru the night air
Costumes are a fright
Oh, Halloween Eve,
What a spooky night!
A Poem By Eva (Age 7)
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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