Elemental witches

November 24, 2015

faceinlightanddark

When it comes to elemental witches, it is more of a ecological connection the witch is making with their surroundings, or their connections with the elements. This does not mean that someone who is away from the ocean can’t work with the ocean. There are no limitations with elemental magic. A person can be more than one element or a combination.

Water witch

A person who works with the element Water and all of its related symbols and powers. Known for adaptability, compassion and transformation.

Sea witch
A person who works with the ocean and the creatures and energies within.

Storm /snow witch

A person who works with storms and rain, one who collects all that falls from the sky’s.

River witch
A person who works with the many rivers that carve the earth and the flowing of energies.

Lake witch
A person who works with the pools of water that form in the earth, the lakes are known for their magical connotations deep and dark.

Earth witch
A person who works with the element Earth, earth is the element of growth, the power of all that grows. Known for abundance, strength and willpower.

Mountain witch

A person who works with the tress , the critters, and whisper to the lichen that grows. The mountains hold many secrets, and tells many tales.

Forrest witch

A person who works with the deep Forrest , a whisper of trees and plants. One who communicates with the flora and fauna who live there in.

Fire witch

A person who works with the element Fire , the element of passion and power. Fire is known for its life giving and life taking abilities. Action, confidence and intelligence.

Desert witch

A person who works with the vast desserts both Hot and Cold, the energies and creatures who dwell in the harsh and forgiving land.
Air/ wind witch

A person who works with the many facets of the element Air, the element known for acceptance, knowledge and spirituality.

Samantha Piña
the Darkest of Lights

I Feel the Dead

November 24, 2015

Darkbeauty

I feel the dead in the cold of violets
And that great vagueness in the moon.

The earth is doomed to be a ghost,
She who rocks all death in herself.

I know I sing at the edge of silence,
I know I dance around suspension,
Possess around dispossession.

I know I pass around the mute dead
And hold within myself my own death.

But I have lost my being in so many beings,
Died my life so many times,
Kissed my ghosts so many times,
Known nothing of my acts so many times,
That death will be simply like going
From inside the house into the street.

Sophie de Mello Breyner

(Some poets make poems the way a builder builds a home – verse by verse, brick by brick. For Sophia de Mello Breyner Andresen, the whole world was home, and poetry was just a matter of seeing and of being. The act of poetry and the act of living were to her inseparable. She defined poetry as “an art of being” that “does not require my time and labour. It does not ask me to have science, or aesthetics or theories. Instead it demands the entireness of my being, a consciousness running deeper than my intellect.” The poetry of her thirteen published collections, imbued with a rare luminosity and precision, is at once ‘profound’ and ‘superficial’, effectively eliminating the distinction between inner and outer. She died in July 2004)

The Rain in Rouen

November 24, 2015

WalkingInTheRain

It’s different on holiday: patchwork of quaint cobbles,
colours of Monet’s Garden, framed by sun.
You don’t notice grey flowers, slipping on wet stone.
Four years there; she swirls the city’s vowels
round her mouth like vin rouge but can’t roll them out right,
any more than she can roll a Rizla.
Instead, she puffs a thin Gitane, tries to look chic
as she sips café noir on the brasserie pavement
splashed by a culture she can only borrow.

Sarah James

(Sarah James is a prize-winning journalist, poet and short story writer. Her poetry and fiction have been widely published in anthologies and literary journals, as well as online. Her latest collection of poetry is “plenty-fish”, published by Nine Arches Press in July 2015. Her website may be found HERE)

It takes all sorts…

November 24, 2015

caantcum

Malevolent Demons

November 24, 2015

demons

Roc Fleuri

November 24, 2015

dispondant

Say, then,
there was nothing,
only misled moments,
the guilt of the moon-lit walk.
Nothing,
except perhaps
your garden at noon,
carrots pulled up from their roots.
Nothing,
your heart
taken and tied,
unmovable rock,
where in the crevices
flowers bloom.

Helen Steenhuis

Good Girl

November 24, 2015

dreamcycle

Look at you, sitting there being good.
After two years you’re still dying for a cigarette.
And not drinking on weekdays, who thought that one up?
Don’t you want to run to the corner right now
for a fifth of vodka and have it with cranberry juice
and a nice lemon slice, wouldn’t the backyard
that you’re so sick of staring out into
look better then, the tidy yard your landlord tends
day and night — the fence with its fresh coat of paint,
the ash-free barbeque, the patio swept clean of small twigs —
don’t you want to mess it all up, to roll around
like a dog in his flowerbeds? Aren’t you a dog anyway,
always groveling for love and begging to be petted?
You ought to get into the garbage and lick the insides
of the can, the greasy wrappers, the picked-over bones,
you ought to drive your snout into the coffee grounds.
Ah, coffee! Why not gulp some down with four cigarettes
and then blast naked into the streets, and leap on the first
beautiful man you find? The words Ruin me, haven’t they
been jailed in your throat for forty years, isn’t it time
you set them loose in slutty dresses and torn fishnets
to totter around in five-inch heels and slutty mascara?
Sure it’s time. You’ve rolled over long enough.
Forty, forty-one. At the end of all this
there’s one lousy biscuit, and it tastes like dirt.
So get going. Listen: they’re howling for you now:
up and down the block your neighbors’ dogs
burst into frenzied barking and won’t shut up.

Kim Addonizio

(Kim Addonizio’S books of poetry include Lucifer at the Starlite, W. W. Norton, 2009; What Is This Thing Called Love: Poems, W. W. Norton, 2004; Tell Me, BOA Editions, 2000, which was a finalist for the National Book Award; Jimmy & Rita, BOA Editions, 1997; The Philosopher’s Club, BOA Editions, 1994; and Three West Coast Women, with Laurie Duesing and Dorianne Laux, Five Fingers Press, 1987. Her website may be found HERE.)

Wake up

November 24, 2015

wakeup

Reading right now

November 24, 2015

TWISTEDONES

What more can be said?

November 24, 2015

Tuesday