Log in

No account? Create an account
20 June 2016 @ 06:42 pm
gathering storm  
  1. i anoint you with cypress and juniper, i anoint you with benzoin and myrrh. i consecrate you by the light of the waning moon in the smoke of cedar.
  2. i summon spirit to this mystery of mysteries, this place between the worlds, this line between the words. spirit be with us now.
  3. i laid you down in the long grass.
  4. we would not make it back to the house.
  5. and here among our numbers, here among our most intimate ranks. and here in the hallways, on the stairs and in the common places we cross paths and eyes, wondering all again: what are we capable of in our worst hours?
  6. the rim is chipped. the handle counts seven glue lines. the surface frays, a kind of panic:
  7. rattling in an empty room.
  8. except no room is empty of our assumptions about it. who else has stood here? who else remembers this space? who does this space remember?
  9. anointed with cypress. with juniper and myrrh.

  1. listen:
  2. no one is two. no two is one. one cannot be two.
  3. one and two can be three.
  4. three aspects of the goddess.
  5. two cannot be one.
  6. eternity out the backwards eye.
  7. grass pressed flat beneath us.
  8. orifices ruled by the moon.
  9. each finger tipped by galaxies.
  10. each finger crookedly on its path.
  11. the path strewn with rags.
  12. the rags stained and saturated.
  13. the sound of someone running away.
  14. holy god.
  15. holy scripture.
  16. holy crown of roses.
  17. holy out and out chaos!
  18. holy fuck.
  19. benediction, cat's eye marbles.
  20. absolution and thyme.
  21. rinse the throat of bitterness.
  22. clear the throat and wait:
  23. what do i call you again?
  24. i call you shame and i call you, meandering. copper hairs gone silver in my sweater's loose weave. i call you eternity and i do not call. i call you eternity and i do not call. i call you into eternity:
  25. listen! listen:

  1. his daughter does not respond to the call.
  2. his daughter is not with us at all.
  3. at the crossroads.
  4. on the path.
  5. arms open and eyes lifted:
  6. burn it. bury the ashes. bury them at the crossroads. bury them and seal the grave with consecrated water. seal the grave and call the storm: bless the storm. pray that the water flow with your intent. pray that the water falls on the ones who must hear. pray that the ones who must hear will:
  7. listen.
  8. do you know who you are? do you know what it means?
  9. do you understand what i am searching for?
  10. the wind rattles, the wind moans.
  11. his daughter stands, half in light, half in shadow. his daughter waits to be seen.
  12. who is she?
  13. and who is she?
  14. and again, who?

  1. spirit thanked.
  2. spirit released.
  3. go if you must. stay if you will.
  4. hail and farewell, spirit


love and many returns to you all on this summer solstice.

music: dark muse - embracesoul
(Anonymous) on June 23rd, 2016 01:42 am (UTC)
Did you use this at a solstice celebration?
I feel like I ask you too many questions but our worlds are so different I need additional guidance
I am fascinated with these three stanzas and how they stand on their own and how they mesh so well together
I couldn't help but think old Alan Ginsberg would love the second and particularly holy out and out chaos

selva oscuraanonymousblack on June 23rd, 2016 05:57 pm (UTC)
one of the reasons i've been connecting with the reclaiming tradition (i started out with the witchcraft reading starhawk in the early nineties, but was extremely diaphanous in my approach until the last couple years) is because you can bring your own concept of deity to it. there are, in fact, atheist reclaimers. there's some universal ritual protocol that allows us to work with group energy, but it's expected that the fine details of your practice will not match anyone else's.

i added to the notebook that this content came out of for the summer solstice and thought: maybe i'll post the first few passages of this on livejournal for the solstice. it's... i don't know, exactly, what that notebook's about yet. maybe i'm not supposed to. toward the end of may, i wondered what it would be like to write contemporary scripture in alignment with my personal variables. so i established sacred space and wrote the first three passages of this. (the forth passage, here, has been added: with any kind of magical work, it's good form to dismiss anything you invoke, even in a livejournal entry. ;-) ) it is a little bit like writing poetry, but feels a little more "right" to me, more like writing poetry used to feel. so we'll see.

man, i wish i could've workshopped under ginsberg, or at least seen him give a reading. i've felt like an anachronistic beatnik for most of my post-adolescent life. and lines from "america" keep going through my head, lately. gosh, i wonder why!
(Anonymous) on June 24th, 2016 01:17 am (UTC)
I'm sorry to hear of your illness. Hope you have a speedy recovery and big thanks for the reply. I wish I could have workshopped under you
selva oscuraanonymousblack on June 24th, 2016 05:41 pm (UTC)
my gi track has been haunted - by something i probably shouldn't have consumed and then consumed a couple more times unknowningly? for a week that's felt LIKE A YEAR. nothing too horrible, just, you know, the joy of gut-triggered existential crises. then started getting achey/feverish/headache symptoms the other night and GOD WHAT IF THIS IS SOME FREAK LISTERIA THING THAT IS NOW TRANSITIONING INTO MENINGITIS, sometimes my brain is a difficult brain to have. i feel much better today, so far. fingers crossed.

a friend from one of my thyca support communities has been encouraging me to start an online creative writing class (so she could take it) and i haven't entirely written off the idea. i'll keep you updated!