destroy it first…?

February 20, 2018

A witch is, actually, a successful (in the sense of surviving) deviant. You have a cultural, ideological, social, what-not pattern which is, for that society in question, normal (and, importantly, this is understood as a synonym for natural). Most people survive because they conform to these patterns, because they behave normally. …But then suddenly you get a deviant which survives, and since it does not draw its support from the normal pattern…that deviant is understood as drawing its support from “unknown,” “supernatural” sources…If we cannot survive without our order, how can she [the witch] survive in solitude? Hers must be indeed a very powerful order to exist so independently, without all the inter cooperation and individual compromise which we have to go through to survive. And if it is so powerful, then it could destroy us. We must try to destroy it first.

Maya Deren
Notebook of Maya Deren”, October 1947

a vehicle of their will

February 18, 2018

witch - Charles Wysocki

In the west country belief we believe that the spittle of the witch is a vehicle of their will and power, and thus their magical influence. The very act of spitting within the traditional practices of the country witch is to impart their will imbued power and influence…. Likewise is the witch’s breath a potent conveyor and vehicular vessel of power and spirit force, to which the body of the witch has by arte been made host, and those potencies, virtues and spirits conjured within the rites and magical work of the practitioner, may in pure focus of will and intent be imparted and issue forth upon such things such as places, charms, parts of the body and magical likenesses skillfully crafted by the witch’s hand.

Gemma Gary
The Black Toad

I believe in the life; in the flesh of infinite variety. We are eternity, with – as now – a fleeting and fluxing consciousness. Possibilities of being are limitless, because there is no total of experience or memory. Our potentialities are within this all-spaciousness, reined in by dimensionals and senses.

Austin Osman Spare
Zos Speaks!

modern sexual magic

February 17, 2018

ritual

…the origins of modern sexual magic flow out of two very different currents in the Western religious imagination. The first is the largely fantastic, but remarkably enduring, nightmare of sexual license and black magic that was associated with virtually every heretical group from the Bacchae down to the witches. For the most part, the charges of sexual licentiousness brought against them were the mimetic projections of the dominant order’s own fantasies, fears, and desires, now deflected onto the mirror of these marginalized groups. But more importantly, these fantasies tended to center around specific fears of social and political subversion. Many of these groups, such as the Gnostics, Bogomils, and Cathars, did in fact seek some form of liberation from the existing social order through their sexual practices. Ironically, like the early Christians, these groups were usually highly ascetic, at times even antisexual. And yet they were attacked as dangerously subversive, not because of what they were actually doing – namely, challenging the dominant systems of marriage and religious authority – but instead for the imaginary crimes of sexual license and black magic. As we see in popular novels like The DaVinci Code, this highly imaginative narrative is still very much with us today. Brown’s story once again revives the image of ancient groups of Gnostics performing secret sexual rites, even in the face of ongoing persecution from the Catholic Church. Indeed, Brown’s description of the secret Gnostic rites seems to be taken directly out of Epiphanius and other early Christian accounts:

“ On a low, ornate altar in the center of the circle lay a man. He was naked, positioned on his back, and wearing a black mask…. Straddling her grandfather was a naked woman wearing a white mask, her luxuriant silver hair flowing out behind it….[S]he was gyrating in rhythm to the chanting….The chanting rose to a fever pitch. The circle of participants seemed almost to be singing now, the noise rising in crescendo to a frenzy. With a sudden roar, the entire room seemed to erupt in climax.”

Hugh B Urban
Magia Sexualis

the bent woman whispered where
she’d find the tree, and when
the moon would be full; or rather,
just starting to spill
over down the nightcloth, plump vessel
leaking into gibbous wane.

it is crucial to catch the brightest drops.

lyla climbs the bitter hills with muddied knees,
legs grass-whipped raw,
clutching the bucket as a child to her breast.
and here the tree is crouched
like a mammoth rock-clung spider,
its broad black leaves bowing,
dancing,
beneath the heavy spill of moonshine.

monstrous tree drinks in the light, drinking deep;
sucks the moonspray from porous leaf to vein,
excreting glowing sap-trickles
from tiny wounds in its bark.

inside her bucket, two glass jars clink
together. lyla draws a silver drill,
hypodermic thin.

two jars of sap, honey-thick and
moonbright — to be fed
in quivering convex spoonfuls
to the helpless mouth;
fed until her darling once again opens
his yellow eyes.

Brock Marie Moore

unlock the mysteries

January 2, 2018

i’ve always known since i was a stringy-headed knobbed knee little girl that there was something or someone spectacular guiding my life. every little unknown childish step was wisely and patiently being guided. directing my eyes toward the ground where i would pick up that one special leaf. directing my eyes to notice that one piece of gravel that didn’t look like typical driveway gravel. no, this gravel had that one side that sparkled when the sunlight hit it just right. in my mind, it was no longer gravel. it would now become a magic rock. my very own magic rock. with my magic rock in one dirty impish hand and my special leaf in the other, i felt like i was on to something. like a hidden truth. a mystery that i would strive to unlock for the rest of my days. I was 10.

i’m now making home in my 40’s. i still have knobby knees and stringy hair most days. i have earned some wisdom lines around my eyes. and yes, they are still childishly wide open with wonder. My nature walks are still just as enchanted. I am still looking for magic rocks, feathers, shells and leaves. i am still striving to unlock the mysteries of my life. my journey has taken me all over the place. i spent many years trying to conform to organized religion thinking this was the way to god. it had the appearance of genuine spirituality, but denied the power to truly connect me to my source. too many strings attached, too many opinions, too many contradictions. but something as simple and soothing as disconnecting from the noise and the opinions of others, and just sitting on the ground, and breathing in and out, did my soul some serious good. here it is nature again, gently wooing me. my guides, my angels, my faeries, my entire unseen holistic team, wooing me out off the confusion and into nature, into my element, where i can just be me.

Selena Parsley (MOONTIQUITY)

hex

December 12, 2017

The bitch in the photograph
wears my face. I cut off my nose,
her nose collapses.
Chop down my hair &
hers shrieks from the sink.
How many poems do I
have to write ‘til she
gets dead, how many
live-wire syllables?
I drive a fork into her
heart & she comes back
a quart of blood-hyped milk.
Some girls are daughters,
& some are ghosts.
I will always love what strays.
It’s just the orphan in me.
I have stolen everyone
I ever loved.

Rachel McKibbens

Can I Fly Too?

November 26, 2017

You are a witch.
You taught me
To hear in the slurping of mud
The cry of the Ban Shee
To see in the life cycle of the caterpillar
The struggle of the soul
Towards immortality.
Take me.
You alone could turn the weight of years
Into release, ecstasy.

Philip Hobsbaum

To those who doubt

November 26, 2017

You think witchcraft doesn’t work? Well, fine. Good for you. Let me practice it in peace, is all I ask. It makes me feel good to cast a spell, to focus my energy, and produce a definite action. A spell has an end and I can tell myself: ‘There, it’s done!’

While you hide yourself away behind your wall of “received wisdom”, what you should remember is we are all the Universe – but trying to be individuals!

In January of this year, scientists created metallic hydrogen for the first time in the world. This was previously believed to be impossible. For the first time hydrogen exists in a metallic state on our Earth. In this metallic state it can act as a genuine superconductor and could revolutionize everything from energy storage to rocketry…The “NOT POSSIBLE” of ‘received wisdom’ was wrong. It can be done. It is possible.

So go in peace with your doubts and leave me to get on with my craft.

Risada Do Futuro

In ritualising anything, we simply do not stop when its physical limits are reached, but plod steadily past them bringing NOTHING and SOMETHING closer together with every step. It is a matter of application and training which can be done by anyone with the necessary dedication and ability to continue working past points where less devoted individuals lose interest and give up the effort. The only secret is “stickability” and refusal to be discouraged by seeming failures.

William G. Gray (The Old Sod)
Magical Ritual Methods