It is a metaphysical poetry sanctuary where emotion becomes alchemy. Each piece drifts like energy through a membrane — slipping from the inner world into the reader’s bloodstream. Cosmic symbolism and Southern‑Gothic mystique shapes my body of work that feeling ancient while transcendence.
Sunday, September 21, 2025
Inconspicuous Seethe
Saturday, September 13, 2025
Enigmas of Consequential
Burdens and questions
From a ghastly saga
Constructed, orchestrated
On the planet of enchantment
Long before human evolution
Of mystics, psychics, and witchcraft
Lay dormant no more
Answered amongst the stars,
Inconceivable stories of lore,
Deep meditations submerged in water, and
Staggering astral projections
What am I to do now?
Live life unfettered
Resolved
Conquered ©
Karen L. Fleming 9.12.25
Monday, May 12, 2025
Mystical Wisdom
Saturday, November 2, 2024
Ellison's Bastille
It's inconceivable
When an old ritual
Takes precedence
Over a person's life
But that's what this
Particular ditch was for
No one here
Would admit such
Atrocities existed
Under the mythical fabric
Of America
Down deep in the South
Where the swamps
Slowly creep to your backdoor
Trespassing often
The rattlesnakes and water moccasins
Sunbath on your sandy lawn
Sparsely sprinkled with grass
Waiting to strike at barefeet
Here
An ancient pact was agreed upon
Between the top predators of the region
Werewolves to be precise
Claimed an old foreboding land
Anyone who betrayed their peace
Was subject to an explicitly cruel death
This pact was broken of course
Since chaos is the very anatomy
Of nature
A father was to be hunted
And torn limb from limb
While his daughter
Was to be raped brutally
And afterward hunted viciously
If by some grand gesture
Their gods granted her protection
With infinite camouflage
She could have her pups in peace
Without the clans
Destroying her precious bloodline
Rape, no matter what words
A person uses
In some sectors of anonymity
This is their trademark
On this day when the sun
Was at its highest
And the humidity beaded upon her skin
Ellison was dragged
To the sacrificial ditch
The male werewolves were lined up
Barely holding their victims
Transformed, long ivory fangs glistening
All colors of fur shining
As if they were just brushed
For the ceremony
The howling and nipping began
Each victim thrown relentlessly against
The dried sun burnt grass that crinkled
Like long-forgotten Christmas paper
Rubbing raw flesh straight to the ground
Black and white sand
Soaked with the blood of virgins
Under such beastly immense weight
After the first surge
The women were released
Fleeing as fast as stampeding deer
Hearing ricocheting gunshots in their ears
They ran on all fours
Only one would survive this day
The other victims were devoured
In the great chase through the stellar pines,
Sea grapes, known as monkey trees to the locals,
And the beautiful bald cypress
Ellison climbed the highest spruce
She could find in severe agony
The only safe place she had ever known
In silence, she watched the brute
Search around in great confusion
With his enormous claws digging into the damp underbrush
Her snarling violator was her father's best friend
In shame and bitterness
He hung his head
A grand silver mane
Low to the ground
Sniffing one last time for any scent
Slowly backing away
From the immense noble tree
He knew his failure must never be known
Their gods had granted her immunity
Through invisibility and stealth
Which was far more than anyone
Could ever comprehend
She was a goddess in her own right now
Everyone must believe
She had been torn to bits
Or he would be punished
According to the old laws
Cowardness has its place
In every societal clan
Her heart pounded with extreme precision
With each breath her anger grew
Hysterically
She looked at her hands shaking
Covered in blood and deep gashes
Naked, distraught
She knew the old ones gathered
In the high mountain realms far to the North
Where the snow laid down for winter
And the ice blue waterfalls were the gateways
There she would go
To make an unbreakable deal with the gods
For the safety of her children
Soon to be born ©
To be continued
Karen L. Fleming, edited 10.31.2024
Sunday, April 14, 2024
Earth's Screaming!
Monday, February 19, 2024
Ascendance
Typically. people of a higher consciousness tend to enjoy my poetry more, but imagine what we could accomplish using more than ten percent of our minds. 😉❤️
Monday, September 11, 2023
Treason!
Tuesday, July 11, 2023
The Stooges Vultured
Agendas scorn
Viciously clawing at my soul
The purity of what I search for
Is so hard to find
The search hinders me
Restless, sad, vaguely myself
A bitter boy disguised
As a demigod
Brought to his knees
Eight bullets are all it took
To disembowel his soul
Into repugnant cruelty
Asking, pleading, commanding
For me to believe in him
As his God
I stare at the chat
A few seconds pass me by
A strange realization caught me
Off guard, "Fucking hell!"
It's the dreadful god complex
A doctor has gone quite insane
Rearing its demonic head
Craving a chance
At mismanaged redemption
Just to prove an irrelevant point
Of domineering superiority
Disregarding ethics
Left loathsome and corroded
Something of a man
Crossed my path
Like a wendigo
Enchanted with the magic
Of a skinwalker
I listened
Knowing his lies
From the moment he spoke
In his mangled flesh
My walls I deconstructed
For a moment
To appease my curiosity
He poisoned my soul
So severely
Water couldn't breach
My thirst
Air couldn't thrive
In my congested lungs
And lines from an IV
Crisscrossed
My frail body
COVID
You ruthless bitch!
At the most inopportune time
Irrationally the past
Came through my window
I thought just a friend to be
But jealousy and spite
Clung to his words
I disagree wholeheartedly
With his ridiculous notions
Over and over
Not concocted by his own mind
I laid waste to him
For suggesting
My flesh and blood
Was not important
Compared to his increasing needs
I drew my boundaries
On the California coastline
Walking away
From a man who drank so much
He wore depends
Is the devil in the details?
I used to think so
Long, long, so long ago
Logic sunk in quickly
An old childhood friend
Never letting me down
No, nope, no
The devil is the scapegoat
Human behavior is the plague
Brace yourself, warrior,
Keep your fortress defended
This conflict of erosion
Is a never-ending historical
Habit of demise
Clinging to their genetics
Of humans without souls ®
Karen L. Fleming, 7.12.23
Thursday, May 25, 2023
Basking in the Gamma Rays
Sunday, October 17, 2021
Precious Heart
Elevation Of Poetic Covenants
Innovations hither come What I thought Was originally possible Were only indentured footnotes Now, Synchronicity withbstoic rhythm Colla...
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Typically. people of a higher consciousness tend to enjoy my poetry more, but imagine what we could accomplish using more than ten percent o...
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Don't judge based on bias Flooding doubts that subside To hellacious droughts Where is the reasoning logic Wading through the shrouds of...

