Erichtho’s Mouth: Persuasive Speaking, Sexuality and Magic

Hey Lauren – Congrats on getting your degree! And what a fascinating dissertation. I cannot believe some fundy stood up at a university commencement and gave you grief. Closed minded a-hole! I love that commencement speech given at Dickinson, which btw is only about 40 miles away from here and i am distant friends with Professor Dan Cozort who is the main chair of religious studies there and has a small group of Tibetan Buddhist students. You can find his works at Amazon or on Dickinson’s website. I am going to reblog that speech for sure with an AMEN lol. Also i like the new design and name of your blog. Blessings.

Blue Star Owl

She neither prays to Gods Above nor begs divine

aid with suppliant hymn, nor does she know prophetic

entrails. Decking altars with flames funereal gives her

joy — so does incense filched from pyres already kindled.

The Gods Above grant her every evil the moment

she invokes Them — They fear to hear her second prayer.

~ description of Erichtho from Lucan’s Pharsalia, Book 6, lines 523-528 from Jane Wilson Joyce’s translation

The last few months I haven’t put a great deal into writing here because I have been so focused on finishing my thesis for my M.A.

It focuses on the classical witch Erichtho and her appearance in one of John Marston’s plays. I fell in love with the witch Erichtho in an independent study on the witch in literature last year.

It is finally officially done and published! If you’re curious, you can find it here:


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That is one amazing dark poem my lady. We are the Priest/esses if the Old Serpentine Wolf Catt line, in our mammalian and reptilian brains down to our bones and hair/feathers. Blessings and I am going to reblogg this.


Let me clothe myself in shadows,

before I become a mockingbird for you

My wings are not yours too eat, scab and wound.

There are owls and ravens in my eyes,

Lakes of feathers, bristling in my bones.

You cannot tame wildness with a cage.

We peck at the roots and find liberation, for our bones are carved from the dirt.

I am death kisses and soft whispers;

Saturn scents coil around my spine like serpents.

You think that what you see is what you get

but the depths of my soul are inked from the blood of the old gods.

I am not your sin-eater,

I am the madness hidden in a small curl of hair.

We are edge-walkers,

black dogs and jackals,

We are Witches –

Brighter than the sun and

colder than the moon.


Poem Copyright 2015 of Nightshade author of The Purple Broom

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“Portal” – Music Video by the group “Lights”

A friends sent me this video last night, which i like a lot,

and i have pasted the lyrics below and their source below. Enjoy !

Portal – Lights – (Source)

In the throes of the ruby red
River that flows through this
Darkening concrete, devouring ghost afloat by
I’m with them

Up in the current and, taking in whole
I’ve been struggling, strangling
Others in toll have my eyes
Gone missing


Imagining sequences, playing back visions by
Stereo air and fragmenting emissions
I’ve lost and found it
The loneliest thing in the shape of a fist
That I wish I could bring in this bitter abyss
Is my petrified heart
Still bound in


Out on a balcony, reaching out to
Design this epiphany and with the sidewalks
Will do
And I just,
In the processes through means to the end
It’s the glass bottle vessel and
Depths that extend to the spins between us

If I could I’d cut through the cables and cords
But I’d never be able,
My life’s at the table with yours
Nothing is sacred and nothing is sure anymore
Except all that you are and stand for
Got me toward your portal
Your portal, your portal
Your portal

Your portal, your portal
Your portal
Your portal


Published by
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

The Brightness beyond Endurance: Gwyn ap Nudd and the Battle of Arfderydd

Well researched, well analyzed from both your right and left brain, and well written and documented Lorna. Fascinating….. Blessings.

Fruits of Annwn

In my waking dream spears pierce the night sky opening onto another night filled with rainbows and blinding stars. Battle cries ascend from black fog. In a stained glass window I glimpse a man with a hunched back in a green and mossy gown departing from a picture into darkness. From these images I derive my research on Gwyn ap Nudd and the Old North should begin with the Battle of Arfderydd. This is an account of my initial findings and thoughts to date.

The Battle of Arfderydd haunts Britain’s consciousness as one of three of the most futile Dark Age battles. It took place in 573 and was fought between Brythonic rulers of the Old North; Gwenddolau ap Ceidio and his cousins Gwrgi and Peredur ap Eliffer. All were descendants of Coel Hen. Thus it epitomises the internecine strife that prevented northern rulers from putting up a successful resistance…

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Annika Garratt Paints God/esses images right before your eyes on her YT and VIMEO sites

Here is Annika Garratt’s Website through which one can access her portals to FB, Instagram, Etsy, Twitter, YouTube and Vimeo. I especially liked the latter two and am featuring one video here from YT and one from Vimeo. It is Amazing watching her paint and watching the gods appear.

First the YT video of her painting the Goddess Hekate

And here is one from Vimeo where she paints Cernunnos

Enjoy and Blessed Be !

Underground Waters Run Deep

Yes nothing sadder than to see the old stone fountains with no water coming out of them, the water having been diverted for the “good of man”. This afternoon i was up at the original mountain spring that was the clean water supply for the black cabin a hundred years ago. I have collected the fallen down locust wood, still good, to make a new gateway. I have honoured this spring with blood sweat and tears, literally. I have collected the old iron nails to rebuild the gateway. Someday i will take a metal detector up there to see what dropped from the ancestor’s pockets as they dipped for fresh water to take to the cabin. But when it rains this spring at least still trickles forth filling a swampland along the southside of the mountain. The Naginis are happy i remember them and i am sure the Native Americans drank from this clean clear water also….

Whispers of the Autumn Court

Beautiful yet powerful poem on the Wild Hunt. I remember CG Jung saying that in dreams if something is chasing you to stop, turn around and embrace it and the “demon” will turn into a benign benevolent form. I have read this in Tibetan Buddhism too in regard to the wrathful deities. I have practiced both and found them to be true. I am going to reblog this so thank you. Blessings.

The Art Of Wonderment

Uncle Tree's House

passing the baton

Many humans ago,

a solid-state baton passed on

to the second generation of children.

Now, our children pass on a rolled up scroll

that houses nothing less than the emptiness of Soul.

It is chock-full of science, knowledge, reason, and logic,

but totally void of meaning and a common sense of direction.

~ Conceptualize the inconceivable thought ~

Marginalize our intangible blue dot?


Self-actualize, and teach what can’t be taught.

Don’t penalize us for thinking what is is naught.

globular cluster

If what is is equal to what was,

then nothing was ever lost.

Once you’re in you’re


Heaven is ever

within you




When one is overcome with a feeling of awe or stupefaction,

we know it is not a manufactured experience of the senses.

Grace comes upon one unawares, like a happy accident.

Divinity never comes with any master/slave division,

although one may feel very small in…

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