Best Alchemist Poems
The Alchemist sat on his chair
Fingering the gold dust
Black curls were his hair
And golden chain on his bust
Churchman, countryman, cityman
Alll around him sat
The lady holding dainty fan
Was on the conermost mat
Greed and lust they had in them
Begging services of this immortal
From corners of the world they had come
Seeking the way thru the portal
The Alchemist's aura of festivity
His talk of astronomy
False piety,humility and simplicity
Made the mortal look pretty mighty
Strange curses with mineral physics
Turning base metals into riches
He seemed an awesome psychic
Tightening his clutches
Poor mortals blinded by want
In him saw divine perfection
With powerful exilir he would taunt
To keep their souls from breeding affections.
4. Quantum Superposition
. A particle can exist in multiple states or places simultaneously until measured
Are humans waves or particles?
Even an entire human being, under the right conditions, can act like a quantum wave. If we can define it, we can quantify just how “wave-like” a particle or set of particles is.
I count the magnificent moons
in my stills as I await the phantom voyeur
with stone blue eyes and a fated look, which sets upon me
The one who stirs my soul, measuring me up in coiled silvery spoons
What obsessive observations you must have
not to turn away those piercing eyes
My world stops, my feelings set on and off
Unseen I meander in other spaces
Your eyes are the “switch” without that which
forbids my existence, hence looped are my stills in many places
From the center of life’s probabilities
Spaciously lit across the universe, with bits of me in tow
Collapsed in your arms, we’ve launched our rainbow
Revealing our humanity in the flesh,
in language of mathematician’s music
Riding the unscrupulous waves of light
roaming across all existence,
reverberating ruthless through you, displacing us
Composing are the alchemists and their peers ~
Splitting into a myriad of mirrors
I bare myself to a random reality,
Totality’s filigree, tangling dangling
When you’re not here,
when you’re lost in thought
As the haze spins up and down around me
my world is unseen and the scale’s unbalanced
Showcasing that I’m equally dead as I am alive
Resuscitate me not—please, it’s here that
monotonous music is unheard in this uncertain trapeze
Until eyes of azure translucence are upon,
I cease to exist in fervor, in your zeal
Alive and very real to boot!
I’m gauged like the intrinsic brightness that shines off a star
Until then, am I just a figment of deepest intensity?
By far, humbled to be, take the bait and consummate my reality
Be the glance exigency
Impenetrable eyes of bluest skies I’ve lost sight of you
As a still, until we meet again
THE ALCHEMIST (IV)
Silence and words can be both lovers and enemies
but they are always mutually dependent upon one
another; one cannot exist without the other.
It is the poet who is alchemist sending off
his well-weighted words in search of the prize,
the Philosopher’s Stone that will transform them
into the gold to be joyfully received by his beloved,
hyacinths on the breeze, wine for our date,
first light of dawn and the dream ends.
Take comfort from the silence and learn presence
from the words, there is no space between..
Cast your best spell White Feather, to woo the butterfly
to your garden and the sweetest nectar.
I am an Alchemist, not a Manifestor - I am grateful I realized the difference.
I would know in my mind, and wait my due time, and nothing would even be seen in the distance.
I remembered when I created my first universe, before it was destroyed- I did that through creating.
Working and building with what I had - it would piss off my dad- that I was literally creating new elements for my new galaxy.
When world one was destroyed I tried manifesting- knowing something would happen for me.
But time would pass and I'd still be on ass... I didn't get why what I thought couldn't be
But then I heard through the words of this spirit named 19 Keys- explaining the difference between manifesting and alchemy. We have to know who we are and where our personal strengths lie, to think-> create -> then it Be.
So from Jendayi, the fashion brand (You can Google it) where my first world was alchemized; I saw how I could make couture out of anything, its natural state just a disguise. As far as cooking, you can have the least and I will make you a Michelin rated feast. I am a beast when it comes to creating - I am an alchemist.
Shout out to my manifestos, I admire your gift, I am glad I no longer struggle to obtain it. Know your strengths. Know your gifts. And lets construct the planets we deserve.
XXGu
A leadened heart devoid of trust
until an alchemist came along,
turning it into gold-
Or so it seemed...
Trust, broken trust.
It was now a locket that held secrets,
that had a key protected by fear
Hidden in the darkness of silence-
Or so it seemed...
Secrets, imprisoned secrets.
There was one escape, only through tears,
tarnishing the heart all the more
Somehow encrusting it forever-
Or so it seemed...
Tears, overflowing tears.
This river led to the sea of silence,
and stayed there.
Eerily still, no undercurrents perceived-
Or so it seemed...
Silence, deafening silence.
Numbing, unwavering trepidation,
kept all those unwanted secrets safe
Weakening the heart, deeming it hopeless-
Or so it seemed...
Trepidation, paralyzing trepidation.
But fear also harnesses strength
and the alchemist within was the key
Breaking the silence, unlocking the secrets-
And so it was...
Strength, energizing strength.
This eventually led to tenacity,
tears hardening into diamonds of courage
Allowing the waves of silence to finally crash
And so it was...
Tenacity, freeing tenacity.
The heart now had a soaring spirit,
with a fire emboldening other hearts
Infinitely turning lead into gold-
And so it is...
Spirit, emblazoning spirit.
This thus far is the story of one heart's triumph,
written for the world to know
Giving hope and gilding hearts-
And so it will be...
Triumph, crowning triumph!
As soon as they come; they leave
As soon as I open my eyes; they vanish
The Ghosts of my past fight the angels of my future
Or so I see it
Faith they said, had grown week
So much so that even
Ten shots of elixir felt meek
Or so I believed
Time claimed alchemy
I simply bowed
to whoever showed,
The power to prove wrong in me
It was a long voyage
Horizon seemed like an eternity
The alchemist continued to row
And I continued to bow
‘Look up’ he said
So I did, and so I saw it
My cheeks felt warm
The breeze felt soft
As I slowly opened my eyes, I saw his work
Indeed! He spoke of the truth
Watching the bright golden truth, I stood
Making its way from up above into my room
Drinking the elixir, I smiled
Watching me, he took pride
Twisted are your ways, I said
‘Make me proud’ said he and left.
Decipher the messages
Encoded impervious presages
Alert your senses
Reinforce illusion defenses
Alchemist of unknown
Predisposed to finally atone?
Question corollaries prior
Analyze what may transpire
Beckon your defenders
Desire of all surrenders
Cryptic are ambitions
End-all of other expeditions?
Stroke scar in reflection
Separate from your affection
Clasp your shield
Promote the force field
Abstruse is verity
Words birthed in sincerity?
Kiss dreams of devotion
Taste the foreign potion
Dismiss your immunity
Dare mystery opportunity
Mystical is the allure
This alchemy is beyond obscure
The Alchemist
Howling moon shining bright in the clearing
Torch marked quarters cast a circle searing
Sinning sirens ringing the barrier
Seven brides of phantoms shall carry her
Choking incense, black clouds shroud the altar
Thunderous words shake! the pillars falter
Grinding dry herbs for these enchanting spells
Blessing all saints, while damning them to hells
Gloves marred with white chalk and cigarette burns
With a wave of the staff, the cauldron churns
Ashes to ashes to diamond crust
Body revives from the smoldering dust
Bloodcurdling shriek, succumbed like the others
Again failed resurrecting their mothers
the universe conspires to serve us yet tremulous heart betrays soul
Heavy metals make you dumb.
Arsenic, Gold, Plumbum.
Those metals take from the dome.
Why not try nickle, iron, or chrome?
Chlorine, sulfur, and radon will take away your breath.
Carbon, nitrogen, and hydrogen can make meth.
While mercury, zinc, and copper were known to the boomers,
lithium, silicon, and titanium were just late bloomers.
The bricks glitter
with passing snails,
in natures beauty
all else pales
The dew on the tips
spectacular at dawn,
fields like diamonds
glitter the morn
Rays of light
shoot in the sky,
mapping a course
in my left eye
The rivers breeze
caresses the trees,
tugging on leaves
watch their frieze
stillness surrounds
the red back hills,
everyone asleep
on last nights pills
A Kookaburra laughs
waking the dead,
shushing him I say
"You'll wake up Fred !"
Finally the sun
decides to arrive,
this is when I love
just to be alive
These hours of alchemy
pass by me again,
can't wait for tomorrow
just to be in this Zen.
The needle and syringe,
all mankind waits to taste the sweet of ecstasy.
A way out, an open door,
the alchemist sprawls on the dirty floor.
His experiment sponsored by greed incorporated,
just another delusional form of chloroform.
With salty solutions, making him thirstier still,
the alchemist dies on humanities floor,
waiting for love and nothing more.
Poet, the Alchemist of prose
magician, conjurer, word flows
vivid imagery, life sublime
illuminating minds through time
a poet’s imagination
Sweetly words lie in hallowed rows
casting and themes, a story grows
or rhyme and skip along a page
Poet, the Alchemist.
Perhaps a poet’s holy grail
write one poem that might entail
philosophy, enlightenment
that would be an accomplishment
non-fiction, not a fairy tale
Poet, the Alchemist.
Entered in NA rerun-2 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: John Hamilton
5th Place with thanks
Entered in "Rondeau Poetry Contest"
Sponsor: Charles Messina
Written 25/07/2019
Honourable Mention thank you
As a child she watched the sky
and saw the dreams of wind.
She listens now to the trees.
While reading the sea
She heard the songs of
waves gathering there.
She is enamored by
the dance that fire makes
returning light from ash.
She lay on the ground
and embraced the deep
longing ache to become.
She is imminence, she
made this place under
Moon and under Sun.
Bracing, she is
ready for the anguishes,
the blood and the Holy transfiguration!
An alchemist corgi in Pocatello
is a nice, but irrational fellow
He walked to Coeur d’Alene
to find fortune and fame
by making gold from a bowl of lime Jell-O