Rosary

Prayers smooth over the glass-beads of my eyes,

palms paired in an attempt to preserve your grace,

my salvation suspended on the verge; between my thoughts and your tongue.

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Python

There is nothing in this world but mist,

blanketing over exposed convulsions and…

lulling our lungs to calm against our raging will.

 

Calm is a universe,

so separate from this -me-

so presumably occupied that it is left to loneliness in Her sadistic romance.

 

Worn out;

Our eyes struggle to make home within our mist,

they remain closed in wakeful struggles –

never seeing the colors surrounding our often too narrow grey paths which;

in the arrest of guilty breaths all lead to one central eden.

 

This guilt,

this… gift;

received with so little resistance is often no more than a domesticated python.

So why not tame it?

Re-name it… make it yours… own it and see;

a python does not revel in eating souls as a hobby.

My First Poem

I am unashamed to say that every love was my biggest.

That is to say;

No one else mattered when I was yours,

besides…

I hadn’t even noticed that we weren’t the only ones.

There are only one-and-only moments…

So I made the best of ours and then carefully stashed them away in my garage

full of “special memories”.

 

At midnight you walked into my room,

your eyes were a river source,

your hands – what propel earthquakes.

You stretched out your arms towards the stars on my face

and I wished I could wipe the honesty off your eyes – it cannot be unseen;

the deep breath in my ear will not go unheard and

the pulse between my thighs is feeling itself so bad

I imagined you proving it wrong with your mouth.

 

There is a plum in my throat and you are kissing her.

This pulse between my thighs turns into

an accidental spray of chili-pepper juice behind my eyes;

and you tell me she has enough milk to heal all of the blind.

 

I’d rather go meet Morpheus in the darkness and remain there.

I’d rather not hear that you know I know how to love you best of all.

 

I’d rather go blind than to have seen that truth behind your longing stare.

 

At midnight…

After you walked into my room; the ball and chain off my heart finally broke the link with their weight, and I am willing to praise you for this act of grace.

Come save me while you break her heart,

Come heal me while she bleeds all out,

Come kiss me while she’s turning blue,

Let past death birth our future.

 

Let’s be the only ones

Let’s have our one-and-only moments…

Let’s play them on repeat, press record, produce and own them.

 

The road to awe…

Be the journey I would choose even if I had a million tries…

 

I am unashamed to say that;

Every love was my biggest one.

Traditional Witchcraft for Woods and Forests; A review.

Traditional Witchcraft for the Woods & Forests by Melusine Draco is a wonderful read for anyone who feels the need to get away from the pressures of the city for a moment or few.

One of the very first books I read from Moon Books had to do with spirit animals and animal magic, and as a wolf I definitely need the comfort of the forest. This book isn’t just an instruction manual (like so many of these type of books are) it cuddles you up in forest and that for me is priceless.

I am lucky enough to have the follow up books to this first gem, and I am excited to start on my next adventure with lady Draco. I strongly recommend this book and probably will ( I’m pretty sure) the rest of her books. I also found her page Traditional Witchcraft so go have a look at that too.

 

In terms of style I enjoy that she is more of a story teller like I mentioned earlier. It also makes me happy that old lore is a recurring topic and that we get to learn and bathe in the wonders of things that we will possibly never be able to fully comprehend.

I think I have exhausted my thesaurus and just writing this review makes the hairs on my body stand up in excitement and admiration.

 

Definitely worth the time it took to get to this book.twwf

Heritage Day

Today is my last day

 

I manage to crawl off the bed that ceased to be coupled almost a decade ago

then land in my still relatively tiny bathroom, though my own physique seems to be shrinking by the second now

I look up at my reflection and I realise the purpose of mirrors

There is a headline,

my face

wrinkled and grey beneath its letters seems to unfold like an over ripe flower without ever having been touched

it says;

Heritage Day

I shuffle along until I trip over the now almost dry white board marker and I begin the list:

One: I inherited the dark lines of deceit off my mother’s core

Two: I learned how to live with being a liar

Three: I came as a foreign being full of love

Four: I was denied love but I’m still leaving filled with only those four letters

Five: Life was beautiful though the darkness is always the beginning of a new story

Six: I inherited the art

Seven: I will never forget

 

I rinse myself off and decide that it would be better to leave full of hope

After all

3 months before they expected me I was ready

13 years before I was

they weren’t

my family

 

The wardrobe whispered the call of majesty

I obeyed my longing eyes

past the dioors and my goodbye suit

I found the two letter phrase barely in disguise and I remembered why

Heritage day:

One: I learned how to judge myself better than anyone had ever judged me

Two: It wasn’t always sunny

Three: How to fake the smile through heartache

Four: How to cause the same

Five: My clothes are cheap

Six: I am unworthychocolat_l

Seven: I knew this each time we made eye contact… after all; we are self proclaimed judges

 

So neat, tidy and fresh I walk towards the lonely seat and the non functional tv

and on the top right hand corner of the screen

A phrase in white paint screams out at me

Heritage Day:

One: My skin colour murdered my first love

Two: I inherited the skill of not caring much for those attributes

Three: My father Died of a broken heart

Four: You saved mine

Five: Our life was puzzled together by vibes and muted sentences

Six: In the end, my quirks were irrelevant and your were my indica

Seven: I fell eternally asleep with the very thoughts that days and nights before had always haunted me.

 

Palm on palm now

My eye lids find their space

No tears left in me

My heritage day is eternal

and I only grew to know that the moment I looked into you!

 

 

 

 

Sacred Sex & Magick; A Review

The Web PATH Center have created, a short, sweet and tangible guide to why Sex Magick is important and helpful to and for the Pagan community all over the world.

This Moon Books release instantly captivated me, its non biased outlook and thorough layout gives this one a fresh feel and has definitely set a new standard for anyone who dares approach this topic without being more than sufficiently equipped.

In a nut shell: Enjoyable, informative and spicy!515q13csOzL._SY344_BO1,204,203,200_

Between Darkness and Intensity

Dear teacher

Tonight in bold mannerisms

I do portray

The lessons taught and learned in the absence of a living day

Of loves lost and conquered

Left and mastered

All following a cretin on a shallow bay

 

I come here to proclaim

How classrooms could not save

The torn arms of a dying slave

To verse

To love

To inadequate gestures of innocence

 

So.. Is this my winter

That I manage to salvage with a truthful smile?

For…

The curves that shape my face

Are clowns

On canvases

Erasing spring

And capturing decay

 

In seasons my gift returns

It escapes

The gaps between

Growing

Sowing

The truthful fear

Of perfection on a paper

Slaving only to a self

Denying

 

Flying away from every hopeful mirth

In lakes of imbedded imperfection

I swipe my face

Along the carved red between my veins

 

Dear teacher

I do not understand

The impossible failure the reaching out

The empty hand

Death no longer visits

And it hurts my limbs

Her lips no longer pronounce the “peachy”

How is it Can you tell? – I came to this…

 

It seems no faith can save me

No god

No parent

Power nor truth

Can keep the yearning away from needing to be close to you

The films we never got to see

The pictures Screen shots

Simplicity of romancity

It signals

Like sirens on a shore

Of titles we cannot bare no more

 

Storms we had overcome

But at long last the victorious lands

We did forsake

For

The

Sake of

The teachers we once thought we could be

In springs between the

Serenity of darkness and intensity

Pre-Noir

I need to create an instance, a circumstance where light is eradicated. What would humanity be if we were to live in darkness?

What would humanity see?

How would you react if you were to suddenly be shown that the core of humanity is actually demonic?

Is it so difficult to understand that darkness is at the core of our natural state of being?

When you close your eyes… you re-generate into a state of darkness. We wake to light – to

live the surface life of flesh and ‘sin’… our fake i.e: carnal-lives are composed of what we term as “light”.

Darkness does not provide for the flesh or the body… even so – some of our most physically gratifying moments stand out in our memories as moments of pleasure under a dark blanket in the arms of someone we love.

Black_4

The blind may not see but they dream as we dream and imagine as we imagine!

Switch your light off and see what happens!

Become still and unfettered.

We need  to be freed from the blinding light in order to win beneath the veil, to fight the battles that many are still unwilling to acknowledge!

What is the use of making love if our souls fail to sing out louder than our physical bodies do?

Where am I going with this?

We all want to be heard or seen, but in reality, all we actually strive for is to connect, to be FELT and RECEIVED instead of rejected. In darkness rejection would be impossible… there you would simply have the magic between souls and the texture of it.

At some point in my life, a sip of Gin could help place a smile back onto my face.

What a paradox…

Loving something as clear and see-through as Gin yet romanticizing the darkness.

The hero of my own literature shall then be named ;

Noir…

Gin Noir!

A Story of A Blue Sun

Just a poem written for someone 🙂 very late one evening!

Blue-Sun-web

Yellow
They said was what made the world red
And red being the color of love… meant that everything yellow
was good for a smile and a dance
But his color was blue
So he thought it true
When the world would tell him he couldn’t

One evening he slowly
headed for home after a long day of shining blue light on the world
he though to himself a miserable thought
that all was lost at bright yellow’s high cost
and about love he completely forgot
With his sad face on his chest
and a torn heart at his breast
he continued to walk on home

Until one day while shinning sadly on us
a stranger figure appeared before him
and she seemed to like his blue light
she told him that one day blue would take yellow away

His heart trembled gently
with wild butterflies in his sight
when she looked at his blue with her eyes
and such a surprise for the color of those eyes were so
shining
and loving
and blue

so since that day
when any man says that yellow is the color of a true sun
he smiles broad and brightly
and holds his love tightly
and he says’
“So?
blue is the color of love”

For K.