Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Five of Swords

The psychic says I am a warrior,
battle ready to a fault.
He says I am a healer, nurturing 
the broken, and the two
parts merge. I go to battle for, and
heal the ones I think deserve me.

Waxing moon magick, 
spell cast oh my goddess
I want and she grants
and as with all love spells,
all the available is given
and all the baggage comes with.

So I arm myself and I lay 
on hands to heal that which
I did not inflict, and wallow in 
the new of strange,
all my fantasies granted.
Dumbass.

That which is fatal cannot be
healed, and all the wars without 
relief wear down even the most loyal. 
Drop the sword. Scatter the herbs.
Pause to breathe.
Look out over the battlefield.

Morrigan rises with the waxing moon.
Ravens pick the bones.
Disbelief banished. Truth remains.
Five of swords is not death,
just surrender. Walk away.
This battle is not worth the cost.

Thursday, October 23, 2014

The Witch of Words

When La Bruja de Las Palabras
banishes you from the Manor,
do not believe she has finished.
Razor blades pirouette from
her lips around your retreating form
exacting the blood sacrifice,
which excites her flying monkey minions
till they chatter and dance
on her window ledge.

The huntsman delivers a pig’s heart 
to La Reina de la Locura,
who has already forgotten
which victim this is supposed to be,
so she buries it in the garden
to see who will germinate.
The dwarves are fascinated
when a curly tail emerges. 
But Herself? Only more confused.