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The Magic Cafe Forum Index » » The spooky, the mysterious...the bizarre! » » Poem to kick off Seance (17 Likes) Printer Friendly Version

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Necromancer
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Careful: all these poetic outpourings could lead to the banishment, er, creation of a new discussion area.

Best,
Neil
Creator of The Xpert (20 PAGES of reviews!) and the Hands-Off Multiple ESP System ("Quality and design far exceed any ESP cards on the market"-Genii), and contributor to the ebook GOLD: When It HAS To Be Performance GOLD -- all at Penguin.
drwilson
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Neil,

The art of the limerick is to go up to the line, but not to cross it. How'd I do?

Yours,

Paul
Necromancer
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Quote:
On 2005-10-21 11:15, drwilson wrote:
Neil,

The art of the limerick is to go up to the line, but not to cross it. How'd I do?

Yours,

Paul


Paul, you did just fine. Still suitable for mixed company and baffling to children.

Best,
Neil
Creator of The Xpert (20 PAGES of reviews!) and the Hands-Off Multiple ESP System ("Quality and design far exceed any ESP cards on the market"-Genii), and contributor to the ebook GOLD: When It HAS To Be Performance GOLD -- all at Penguin.
Bill Ligon
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Thanks, Dan. Great, Paul.

Necromancer, a new genre: bizarre poetry.
Author of THE HOLY ART: Bizarre Magick From Naljorpa's Cave. NOW IN HARDCOVER! VIEW: <BR>www.lulu.com/content/1399405 ORDER: http://stores.lulu.com/naljorpa
<BR>A TASSEL ON THE LUNATIC FRINGE
Necromancer
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Quote:
Necromancer, a new genre: bizarre poetry.


Not so new, Bill. Vogon poetry has been around for millennia.

Best,
Neil
Creator of The Xpert (20 PAGES of reviews!) and the Hands-Off Multiple ESP System ("Quality and design far exceed any ESP cards on the market"-Genii), and contributor to the ebook GOLD: When It HAS To Be Performance GOLD -- all at Penguin.
John Nesbit
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Quote:
On 2005-10-21 10:19, Bill Ligon wrote:
How about:

There was a young girl from Nantucket
Who put her folk's heads in a bucket
She covered her guilt
With an old tattered quilt
I can't think of a last line, so **** it!


Yes Bill, that's exactly what I was alluding to earlier.
You got it Professor, Yeah ! Smile Smile
Clifford the Red
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With Halloween coming up there are several lovely books about Halloween that contain wonderfully grim poems. I picked up a few recently...

Poems Bewitched and Haunted - Everyman's Library

A Halloween Reader - Lesley Bannatyne
Halloween, An American Holiday, An American History - Lesley Bannatyne

Great stuff in these!

BTW, I LOVE Eugene's rendition of the Harp Weaver, creepy! I think there is something powerful in including simple readings in an act. First of all, it raises the IQ level! Secondly, when you perform words without typical magic, the effect is moved to an internal one and can be created in the bodies of your audience. It becomes a powerful, personal experience.
"The universe is full of magical things, waiting for our wits to grow sharper." Eden Philpotts
kaytracy
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Also, let us not overlook the Shel Silverstien works.

Someone ate the Baby is a fun one,
among others.
and there is a song that comes to mind- something about Ricketty Ticketty Tin, a young woman who kills off the family, but refused to lie about it...
Kay and Tory
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Bill Ligon
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Quote:
On 2005-10-21 23:25, kaytracy wrote:
Also, let us not overlook the Shel Silverstien works.

Someone ate the Baby is a fun one,
among others.
and there is a song that comes to mind- something about Ricketty Ticketty Tin, a young woman who kills off the family, but refused to lie about it...



Yep, Tom Lehrer's Irish Ballard. "About a maid I'll sing a song, sing ricketty ticketty tin, About a maid I'll sing a song, who didn't have her family long. Not only did she do them wrong, she did every one of them in, them in, she did every one of them in."

Lehrer's songs are parodies and meant to be funny, but they are certainly bizarre.
Author of THE HOLY ART: Bizarre Magick From Naljorpa's Cave. NOW IN HARDCOVER! VIEW: <BR>www.lulu.com/content/1399405 ORDER: http://stores.lulu.com/naljorpa
<BR>A TASSEL ON THE LUNATIC FRINGE
Bill Ligon
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Oops! That's "Irish Ballad."
Author of THE HOLY ART: Bizarre Magick From Naljorpa's Cave. NOW IN HARDCOVER! VIEW: <BR>www.lulu.com/content/1399405 ORDER: http://stores.lulu.com/naljorpa
<BR>A TASSEL ON THE LUNATIC FRINGE
Bill Ligon
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"What can ail the knight-at-arms, alone and palely wandering? The sedge has withered from the lake, and no birds sing..."
Author of THE HOLY ART: Bizarre Magick From Naljorpa's Cave. NOW IN HARDCOVER! VIEW: <BR>www.lulu.com/content/1399405 ORDER: http://stores.lulu.com/naljorpa
<BR>A TASSEL ON THE LUNATIC FRINGE
MatCult
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I know this thread is about a hundred years old now, but I just came across a Rudyard Kipling poem that would suite many a bizarre situation:

En-Dor by Rudyard Kipling

"Behold there is a woman that hath a familiar spirit at En-dor." I Samuel, xxviii, 7.

The road to En-dor is easy to tread
For Mother or yearning Wife.
There, it is sure, we shall meet our Dead
As they were even in life.
Earth has not dreamed of the blessing in store
For desolate hearts on the road to En-dor.

Whispers shall comfort us out of the dark--
Hands--ah God!--that we knew!
Visions .and voices --look and hark!--
Shall prove that the tale is true,
An that those who have passed to the further shore
May' be hailed--at a price--on the road to En-dor.

But they are so deep in their new eclipse
Nothing they say can reach,
Unless it be uttered by alien lips
And I framed in a stranger's speech.
The son must send word to the mother that bore,
Through an hireling's mouth. 'Tis the rule of En-dor.

And not for nothing these gifts are shown
By such as delight our dead.
They must twitch and stiffen and slaver and groan
Ere the eyes are set in the head,
And the voice from the belly begins. Therefore,
We pay them a wage where they ply at En-dor.

Even so, we have need of faith
And patience to follow the clue.
Often, at first, what the dear one saith
Is babble, or jest, or untrue.
(Lying spirits perplex us sore
Till our loves--and their lives--are well-known at
En-dor). . . .

Oh the road to En-dor is the oldest road
And the craziest road of all!
Straight it runs to the Witch's abode,
As it did in the days of Saul,
And nothing has changed of the sorrow in store
For such as go down on the road to En-dor!
"Disbelief in magic can force a poor soul into believing in government and business."
Jon_Thompson
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Darkest Cheshire
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How about a little Emily Dickinson?

The distance that the dead have gone
Does not at first appear;
Their coming back seems possible
For many an ardent year.
David Eichler
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Breathing life into a thread almost a decade old, I wonder if there are new poems folks may have found as favorites. I came across this article a few years back (https://page-one.springer.com/pdf/preview/10.1007/978-1-349-02937-2_15) which piqued my interest to find the poem (here is one source: https://en.m.wikisource.org/wiki/New_Poems_(Yeats)/The_Spirit_Medium). What other favorites are out there?
dorian_faust
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Along the shore the cloud waves break,
The twin suns sink behind* the lake,
The shadows lengthen
In Carcosa.

Strange is the night where black stars rise,
And strange moons circle through the skies
But stranger still is
Lost Carcosa.

Songs that the Hyades shall sing,
Where flap the tatters of the King,
Must die unheard in
Dim Carcosa.

Song of my soul, my voice is dead;
Die thou, unsung, as tears unshed
Shall dry and die in
Lost Carcosa.

—"Cassilda's Song" in The King in Yellow Act 1, Scene 2
weepinwil
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Everyone is immortal, so the mystic said,
For while he may know he is dying,
He can never know he is dead. --- modified Samuel Butler saying.
"Til Death us do part!" - Weepin Willie
Intrepid
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From "The Wreck of the Hesperus"
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

But fast thro' the midnight dark and drear,
Thro' the whistling sleet and snow,
Like a sheeted ghost, the bark swept on
To the reef of 'Norman's Woe'.

Her rattling shrouds, all sheath'd in ice,
With the masts went by the board;
Like a vessel of glass she stove and sank,
Ho! Ho! the breakers roar'd!

At daybreak on the bleak sea beach
A fisherman stood aghast,
To see the form of a maiden fair
Float by on a drifting mast.

The salt sea was frozen on her breast,
The salt tears in her eyes;
And her streaming hair, like the brown sea-weed,
On the waves did fall and rise.

Such was the wreck of the Hesperus,
In the midnight and the snow!
Oh! save us all from a death like this,
On the reef of 'Norman's Woe'.
Bob
Intrepid
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I Am Standing Upon The Seashore
by Henry Van Dyke

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,
spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts
for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck
of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then, someone at my side says, "There, she is gone"

Gone where?

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast,
hull and spar as she was when she left my side.
And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me -- not in her.
And, just at the moment when someone says, "There, she is gone,"
there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices
ready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!"

And that is dying...
Bob
Intrepid
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The resurrection of this thread was timely, and if you don't mind I'd be glad to share a few more of my favorites. Although most are simply macabre in nature and not necessarily a seance opener. Such as the following from Emily Dickenson's "Because I could not stop for Death"

Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
And Immortality.
Bob
Intrepid
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From "The Spider and the Fly"
by Mary Howitt

"Will you walk into my parlour?” said the Spider to the Fly,
“‘Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy;
The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,
And I have many curious things to shew when you are there.”
“Oh no, no,” said the little Fly, “to ask me is in vain,
For who goes up your winding stair can ne’er come down again.”
Bob
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