Anybody else who uses literary ways for casting spells?
By making use of poems, short story/novel writing?
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Yup! So glad to see some one ask that!!! If I may ask, do you have any experiences or advice you’d like to share? 
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Beautiful!! 
The way you combine imagery with texture, really brings life to your descriptions. Fantastic!
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Love this line! Thank you for contributing, hope to see more.
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Yeah sure!
I can reccomend the Daemon Phenex.
He’s amazing for writing and purifing.
a while ago i did a love spell by using the method of writing a short story.
I layed the focus on the feelings i wanted to manifest and for casting i used blood and sperm.
Writing poems or hymns that containt and describe your intent, burning them and using the smoke and/or ashes for the onlay…
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Shout out to Almighty Phenex!
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That’s intensely awesome! It didn’t occur to me the assistance of a story laid out. It aiding in the willed power by the layering of concepts and intentions; through the assimilation of ones words.
The intense layering of emotions and precise intent in each line, merged with the ritual and tools, along with timing; I can only imagine was incredible!
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A very good and super underrated way of spellcasting and rituals!
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Poem ‘Simply’
Can you hear it? That high-pitched ring, as though there may be someone thinking about you, or possibly talking about you. Can you feel it, a chill running from the center of your body and washes all around you? Do you dream of it? Those fragments of images the mind creates to try and make sense of it. Voices you think you know, speaking to you as you dream. Ghost’s of the past and hopes for the present. The future barely a thought to you, for the cost of life is in the moment.
You dare yourself to wish, convince yourself of having faith in something. But how different is faith and fear, you ask yourself? For you have heard that love and hate are similar if not the same. How complicated could it be, distinguishing what churns inside you. Though you see that the complication is made from within. The over thinking and overwhelming feelings, which are made to be just that. Then you hear that ringing, the chill runs through you again, and the ghost’s keep speaking; life is simply a dream.
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Mmhmm! I’m so happy to see others wanting to contribute to this thread. I forgot to mention earlier that my true intention for this was validated by you all; exploring the formation and combination of words, to see what powers they can provide. I am grateful for everyone’s contributions.
Our own thoughts can be so intense, full of emotion and vivid imagery. Finding the right configuration and formulating a fluid textural sequence, to display that imagery within, can be challenging at times. I hope that this can be a place where everyone can share personal works, thoughts, needs, experiences and anything else.
@anon95990194 I’d love to know more detail, if you’re willing and wanting to share
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Poem ‘Ghost of Memories’
The evening brings an uneasy quiet. The type of silence that surfaces unwanted thoughts. Memories once believed to be overcome or forgotten creep back to the for-front of an assumed calm mind. What need do these memories have to be remembered once again? What is its purpose for resurrecting itself onto the backside of glazed eyes?
The vision blurred, obscured with details that haunt the seer of its authenticity. All things forgotten, begging, “Please remember me!” Hastening a premature sense of comfort in the arms of substances, friends to the lies that compromise ones own personal security. In the evening it brings a silence, that which is deafening to those silently screaming, in its uneasy quiet.
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Poem ‘Just is’
I am a sick animal, a deranged and delusional creature. Feeding off the experiences of others, an emotional tourist. A hobbyist of sorts, organizing my sores from wounds I lick endlessly trying to mend. Not allowing it to heal, becoming that which I fear. The only tangible thing that has any worth to me is six feet in the ground, sealed around concrete and steal. No longer breathing or contributing; just taking up space. A place to rest the vessel of flesh stuffed with chemicals to prolong the inevitable.
That’s what death does; makes you question and conjure feelings of a heavenly ‘God’. I often wonder if he would approve of my thoughts and reactions. What would his opinion stir? Having had much honor and respect, “you only have one thing in this world and that’s your word. Don’t go against it because then there’s no truth in it.” A person’s character judged and measured, so many factors and things to remember. Go ahead and place your thoughts, for every person believes theirs matter. That their personal thought might change the world or the internal world of another.
I want to believe in the sanctity of faith, that there won’t be pain in the next. We try to contrive, so that those we’ve lost won’t be in a place that causes them strife. Though life is pain, in so many different shades. It comes in all sorts of sizes and has no preference for where it resides. To teach us all something of matter, nothing tangible just chatter. Once the mind ceases to clatter, calm and death have much in common.
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Well about which part do you want specific details?
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Awesome!! Thank you so much for responding!
I’m curious to know more about how you came about Phenex and the structuring of your writings, to create successful results; i.e. what did you tap into within yourself? Also Daemon Phenex is a knew entity to me, sounds as though he/she? can help aid in inspiration.
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Poem ‘The Crooked Path’
It’s falling. Sitting, laid out, every weakness and every doubt; every issue left unresolved showing it’s solution within its making. At a precipice that may not be conquered as the rising sun leaves shadows running. That which has made the mind fragile, stays on the shoulders of every manmade mountain. Pressure applied to devices thought as children, we nurture and decipher its development, none the wiser.
Presence of thought; those persistent wants mold the fabric of the altar. Temple of flesh standing before the starving flame, making an enemy from the cloth of destiny; as the offspring of imprisoned minds carry away the blind. Beckoning a second coming from a belief in the enslaver. Follow to fall, not in the arms of the absolved, for that is delusion. Made such not from faith, though from ignorance and fear of something greater. Comparing dream to limitations, confused of preparations that of instinct versus labor.
Becomes a need to separate blind faith from hesitant mistakes of it is true self and that of another. Question not your might for it has its own rite. As ones own absolver, kneel not to a false father. A prophet making profit from intentions used as wagers, pact made with the self amongst thy crooked path. The wrath from ones higher self soon to pass through deadened eyes; made alive that which cannot be denied, the ever-changing lie.
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Phenex is a Demon i encountered in the Ars Goetia.
He is a Marquis and an amazing entity to work with.
His energy is very unique yet very strong.
At the moment my writing is abit on the lower side due to personal circumstances.
Accept for when i’m doing it for spellwork
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This sounds exciting! I’ll be cautious with the approach and respectful in the workings. Can only imagine how his unique quality and strong energy will effect and aid with a persons needs.
Thank you @anon95990194 your experiences are valuable and I appreciate you sharing them! Defiantly going to research more about this. Also, I wish you the best and quick resolve with your personal circumstances.
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Amazing🌹
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Thank you dear! 
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Also would like to mention again, your jacket moon fabric painting is extremely impressive! The texture, layering and organic nature of your brush strokes on a difficult canvas, is so complex. The detail is impeccable! As you can tell, I admire your skills and am a fan of you work 
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@ofdreams You have a good talent in poems,I really like your work 
However,you could make it more poem like by using enter 
That would please our eyes too.
And please dont stop posting them,we love your work 
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