to the future friends who will become my potential lovers
I need to warn you
there aren’t many rules for dealing with me
but I have one hard line in the sand that you shouldn’t cross
I am not something to be tolerated
I’m sometimes brash and loud
sometimes impossibly quiet and closed off
an odd construct of witchcraft and geekery and words
so many words
we don’t have to be two of a kind
that’s boring
but you have to accept all my pieces
my magic is non-negotiable
a part of me just like my skin
I write and write and write
until I’m empty for a moment
only finding stillness after pouring my blood onto pages
it’s just the way I function
and you’ll have to embrace that
if we’re to be something important
I’ve spent years being tolerated by lovers and friends
who didn’t appreciate my deeper waters
and the fish that swim in them
I’m done being an undesired experience
so learn to love me in all my oddity
or let me remain distant
an acquaintance and nothing more
Tag: Witchcraft
genre: books related to New Age topics like astrology, tarot, witchcraft, paganism, mythology, philosophy, and other common metaphysics categories
three brothers [poem]
when we rose to power
my brothers and I made a pact
we agreed to split the realms three ways
each taking on one for our own
we were young gods still
so we kept it simple
we drew straws
not really thinking it through
Zeus got the skies
king of us all
he also got a constant zap of static
from everything he touched
I watched him learn how to hide the cringe
but no one
not even a god
can stop the telltale crackle of electricity
Poseidon had it harder
his watery kingdom a true change
from all he’d ever known
sometimes he forgets how to breathe air
and I know for a fact
his skin dries viciously when exposed to the sun
my brothers will tell you I had it worst
I became the ruler of the dead
but had to become like them to do it
I’m a little dead inside
a little cold and grey and unmoving
it doesn’t bother me
but then again
nothing bothers a ghost
Medusa [poem]
they say
I ran to Artemis when men with
stone faces and hard hearts
came chasing after me
to take things I had not offered
her advice to me was simple
stop running woman-child
turn your face to them
they say you make them hard
make it true
make them harder
make their blood turn stone with your righteous fury
so I did
stories spread
gossip’s nothing new
suddenly I was a monster with snakes for hair
like they’d never seen dreadlocks before
like I couldn’t be dangerous without
venomous creatures crawling from my skin
but hey
it kept people away most of the time
kept me safe from their wandering eyes
I didn’t do anything to anyone innocent
men who came to me
they knew what they were coming for
they came to take
came to take my life
came to take my body
came to take my power
I didn’t let them
I have a garden full of statues
in honor of their ignorance
a thank you note to my high priestess [poem]
we met in a coffee shop
a circle of pagan people gathered
to make new friends and chance connections
you looked past my bright eyed innocence
to see the potential priestess beneath my still waters
I looked up to you
priestess and teacher
my guide into a wider world of magic
than I’d ever known on my own
you earned my respect
spun lessons into my life
while providing a safety net in case I fell
you became a friend too
when my heart grew love so big it birthed a tsunami
you showed me your ocean
taught me how to measure the waves
and how to avoid drowning in them
in the years of magic and mayhem that we call life
you lifted me up
told the gods I was worthy
even when I wasn’t sure it was completely true
when your life crumbled
like brittle sun-baked paper in your fingers
your survival showed me how to find purpose
how to grab life’s lessons with both hands
and shove them into place
until life returned to beautiful again
what I’m trying to say is
thank you
there are no words powerful enough
to truly explain my gratitude
for your presence in this
crazy ritual I call life
Persephone girl [poem]
I’m a Persephone girl
half spring maiden
half goddess of death
on long walks through the woods
I like to smell wildflowers and collect old bones
I’m always between
always half out of step with normal life
like I ate too many pomegranate seeds
and I don’t get to be normal until the hot season
the time when I bitch and moan and melt
with everybody else
I like being a shadow chaser
my heart held safe in the cool hands of Death
His darkness my shelter from too much living
depression’s mine too
here to remind me that each breath is a gift
I’ve chosen not to return unopened
and yet
my laughter is infectious and frequent
bubbling like youth’s spring from my lips
because this too is my life
eternally adorable
the smile of spring’s first blooms
and a promise of future fruits
blessed be this body [poem]
blessed be my sore feet
for holding me up through a long shift at work
blessed be my stiff knees
for allowing me to enjoy that three hour hike
even though it exhausted me
blessed be my jiggly ass
for making anything a good seat
blessed be my confused womb
for sometimes reminding me I’m a woman
and sometimes letting me forget
blessed be my stretchmarked belly
for being kind enough to accept
almost any form of fuel
blessed be my annoying boobs
for making me feel the good kind of curvy
when I bother to dress up girly
blessed be my naive heart
for remembering how to love again and again
even when I’m ready to wash my hands clean
of loving anyone else
blessed be my megaphone mouth
for getting my point across
without letting anyone talk over me
blessed be my blurry eyes
for all the stories they let me absorb every day
blessed be my scattered thoughts
for birthing poetry
and to do lists with equal enthusiasm
blessed be my well-worn body
for all the things I’m capable of doing
I am truly grateful for all my bits and pieces
the ones that work and the ones that don’t
this body is my body
and I am blessed
an odd offering [poem]
she was the taste of coffee bitter on your tongue
the brush of silk sheets against your skin
the sound of rain tickling tree leaves
she was an odd offering
easy like breathing
hard like living
she hummed like music
her rhythm a heartbeat
steady
she was the temple
and the altar
candle flame and incense smoke
she was an odd offering
of forgiveness
of murmured prayers
of the chance to start over reborn
she was the smell of rain
after a year of dusty stillness
the washing away of all doubt
she was an odd offering
everything and nothing
a blessing to those who looked with eyes open
and a curse to those who assumed
they knew anything
about her
at all
the daughter of a reader [poem]
I come from the joining of two bodies and no love
my creation an act of odd luck
that turned a woman from soldier to mother
took everything wild and weird in her
and molded it into me
I am the daughter of a reader
and I’d like to think much of who I am
seeped into my being
from the words in her favorite books
birthing a hopeless romantic
a believer in real love and happy endings
and yet
l recognize the need for honesty
for hard conversations
the couples in my mother’s stories
never got anywhere before they told their truths
so I never really learned how to hide mine
I walk this life open like
a good book
let strangers trace my pages with curious fingers
seeking something to explain all this loving
can anyone
really
understand a living novel
a walking talking story who writes
everyone
into her plot
with a hello and a smile
it’s hard not to end up a character
when you tangle with my type
the daughter of a reader
a book made flesh
a storyteller
found myself [poem]
I didn’t change
I just found myself
tucked between the raindrops and
under mossy rocks
nestled beside the creek
I became the dappled shadows sunlight creates
became the invisible
the unnoticed
I became the breath you take
just before sleep claims your mind at night
the breath before the dive underwater
the last breath
before greeting Death on the other side
I became a between thing
fey and alluring yet
disconcerting
if you get too close
but that’s the thing
I didn’t change
didn’t suddenly become the grey areas
between your defined existence
I just found myself
in the subtle sparkling of the silence and shadows
dandelion girl [poem]
they call you a weed
frown when you show up to their
perfect gardens
uninvited
don’t let their limited definition of beautiful
color your flowers less desirable than the rose
you are the beautiful survivor
evolved to take no shit
to keep spreading your bright yellow smiles
everywhere
make a wish
dandelion girl
let it go
fluffy seeds floating in the air
you are invincible
to droughts
and floods
and poisons alike
immortal dreamer
wishgranter
you are hope
I forget how to human [poem]
sometimes
I forget how to human
how to walk this complicated body
away from danger
I forget these teeth are not weapons
there is no safety in these
weak fingernails
they will never be claws
I can’t outrun other predators on these two feet
and I forget that
I forget how to speak my truths
how to wrap my lips around what I want
and breathe it into understanding
the magic of words
necessary
in a species evolved so far from feral
from growl
and howl
and yip
sometimes
I forget how to be human
and it’s the primal beat of the drums
pulsing in the darkness
that reminds me of my humanity
as I dance
this body finding its wild
in the untamed movements of hands
and feet and hips
and breath
I inhale to remember
how to use this body to become
magic
and exhale to forget
how to limit it to silly human
thing
just breathe [poem]
let life surprise you
let her twists and turns lose you
in the moment
just breathe in
and out
and in again
breathe
and let go of all your
silly little plans
your endless to-do lists
your perfectionism
let life be beautifully chaotic
an exciting adventure without a map
get lost in the moment
just breathe
the business of answering prayers [poem]
when we sit around the table
hands clasped in prayer to your Christian God
what does He hear?
my pagan heart feels the words
head bowed in reverence
as we give our collective thanks for life
and I say amen
just like you
does God dislike the prayers of pagans?
does His love extend
to those who speak gratitude into the evening light
or does He close His ears
to the words of unwanted heathens
and those who dare to stand beside them?
I’d like to think His love is
too great to be limited by our arbitrary labels
that God listens to my prayers
just like Hera
or Odin
or Ra
because I am a prayerful person
and God is in the business of answering prayers
from those with hearts open enough to speak them
Larissa Lee 