Witches and Writers

 If you are like me, you want your life to mean something more than an accumulation of days and nights passing in a melancholy blur of mundane tasks that embroil nothing more meaningful than the biological performance of breathing in and out.  If you are like me, you want more, you want joy, you want meaning, you want soft hues, and exhilarating,  bright, bursting explosions of truth and creativity…. if you dare, you want, “passion!”  

Predictably, and most essentially, if you are like me, you want to be known and understood, you want to love and you want to be loved.  I imagine this is why you write, this is why I write.  I hemorrhage words, for prose is my life blood.   This is that urgent force within me that summons all cunning hearts to come unto my own heart, so that we may dance and spin, weaving and twisting together, lighting fires, scourging and blessing each savored deliberation.

Writing (and witching) are the ways in which my dominant spirit submits to the will of my higher truth, often, a thirsty truth that has been held as an unwilling hostage in some secreted, deep and shadowy well. I read to be exposed to exotic other voyagers, to feast from their most innocent spring lambs?   To surrender myself entirely to their succulent literary magic?  I am amused by little else. I am fed by little else.  The musings of eloquent writers are my jewels, my deepest joy and highest aspiration comes from the mere hope that my words in some diminutive way can perhaps be given as jewels to others, dare I hope? Dare I yearn to bewitch with meager words?  I have fallen slain within the spirit of a crafty writer many times in my years, I am surviving now by only the twitching and itching of a most soulful need to find calm within the inked lines. 

The reader is the famished self, the writer is overwhelmed self, we are both tortured, you and I, let us dance!  Our coupling is a seductive and charitable effort.   The drought of individual passion is a mournful municipality, let us stake a claim upon the land, let us feast, drink, and be merry together we writers and witches!  

I have decided that the old saying “You cannot have it both ways” is an underrated truth.  Whatever is fleecing my soul of its fiery passion, of its enduring satisfaction, this is the day that I banish that “thing” from my life and copiously embrace my creative liberties!

So mote it be! 

I am a witch, however, I have, like most of my sister witches, studied the Holy Bible with an open, earnest heart, and there is one elegantly flawless verse that I have plucked out and seized as my own, one verse that is a monument to my truth. It shines within the book of Matthew, chapter 6, verse 21…  “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” So, I ask you, where is your treasure?  I ask you to consider your life.  I don’t mean who do you love more than anyone else, this is a question of very intimate individual passion, where is YOUR own treasure, your own exceptional pleasure on earth~ if suddenly, you were alone in the world and had only yourself to please, in what soothing ocean would your lone soul find sanctuary? For there, will be your treasure and your heart.

The Poop Song.

My little brown loo-lamb

is swimming in small circles.

He loves to play in the bog!


My little brown loo-lamb

has gotten slightly dizzy,

from making it to my blog!


My little brown loo-lamb

has disappeared down the drain,

lost in a frothy, white fog!


My little brown loo-lamb

had no say in the matter.

In life’s chain was just a cog!

Native American Story

A native American grandfather was talking to his grandson about how he felt. He said ‘I feel as if I have two wolves fighting in my heart. One wolf is the vengeful, angry, violent one. The other wolf is the loving, compassionate one.’ The grandson asked him, ‘Which wolf will win the fight in your heart?’ The grandfather answered: ‘The one I feed.’

Native American Story, unknown author


Should I?

Famara cliffs • riscos de FamaraNice one, Corey!


Should I?

Will that break happen,
Should I keep on going,
No one can see the future,
So there’s no way of knowing.

Should I keep on trying,
Should I just give up,
Should I put down my pen,
And say enough is enough.

Should I give up on dreams,
Leave them all behind,
Or just keep working,
Hoping I get signed.

Is my work any good,
Or are people just being polite,
I just can’t stop thinking,
Its keeping me up at night.

I’m not good at much,
But I think I’m good at this,
I’m either by the sun,
Or lost in the mist.

Questions I keep asking,
The answer is still waiting,
Should I just give up,
It’s a decision ill be making.

A Poem By Corey Booth – 08/01/12 🙂

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Au Secours – Help!

from Alexandra Bruley

For translation, see further down! 

Le parlement Roumain a voté la loi pour l’euthanasie des chiens errants, mais les pauvres chiens seront massacrés de ces deux façons. Méthode 1. Une pelle dans la tête. Économique mais individuelle. Méthode 2. On les mouille et on jette un câble électrique alimente dessus. Il y a une petite consommation de matériel mais c’est collectif, donc plus rapide. Pour faire reculer le gouvernement Romain venez signer cette pétition.


Shared · 28 November 2011

Lieven shared this on FB and it disgusted me as it surely will do you. I shall give you a quick translation:

The Rumanian parliament has voted the law for the euthanasia of vagrant dogs, but the poor canines will be massacred in two ways. Method 1. A ball in the head. Economical but individual. Method 2. One gets them wet and throws a live electrical wire on them. There is a slight consumption of material but it’s done collectively and therefore is quicker. To make the Rumanian government back down please sign the petition by clicking on the link above(and fill in your details).

This was originally posted on November 28th 2011. I hope we are not too late! 

This is what you will see on the petition.

Date personale:
(Vă rugăm să completați câmpurile marcate cu *)

Adresare:*  – here you click on the equivalent of Mr. or Mrs.
Prenume:*  fill in your first name ;Nume:*  – fill in your last name
Strada:* Cod postal:*  – you can leave these open!
CNP:* Email:*  – just email is required!
Tara:* Da, as dori sa primesc si alte informatii despre VIER PFOTEN

And press enter! 

Our Own Reality!

from CG/Fantasy

Wild, speeding light flies through the night,
obliterating darkness with its might.
First faint whisper reaches the thankful ear,
dispelling the silence and the fear.

That crippling fear of not being heard,
of failing to utter the prime word,
that one word  that would set us free,
lift us up from mediocrity!

Give us the delusion of a self,
let us believe we are a higher elf.
Deliver us from mere mortality,
when we make our own reality!