Tag Archives: poetry

Monet Refuses the Operation

Doctor, you say there are no haloes
around the streetlights in Paris
and what I see is an aberration
caused by old age, an affliction.
I tell you it has taken me all my life
to arrive at the vision of gas lamps as angels,
to soften and blur and finally banish
the edges you regret I don’t see,
to learn that the line I called the horizon
does not exist and sky and water,
so long apart, are the same state of being.
Fifty-four years before I could see
Rouen cathedral is built
of parallel shafts of sun,
and now you want to restore
my youthful errors: fixed
notions of top and bottom,
the illusion of three-dimensional space,
wisteria separate
from the bridge it covers.
What can I say to convince you
the Houses of Parliament dissolve
night after night to become
the fluid dream of the Thames?
I will not return to a universe
of objects that don’t know each other,
as if islands were not the lost children
of one great continent. The world
is flux, and light becomes what it touches,
becomes water, lilies on water,
above and below water,
becomes lilac and mauve and yellow
and white and cerulean lamps,
small fists passing sunlight
so quickly to one another
that it would take long, streaming hair
inside my brush to catch it.
To paint the speed of light!
Our weighted shapes, these verticals,
burn to mix with air
and changes our bones, skin, clothes
to gases. Doctor,
if only you could see
how heaven pulls earth into its arms
and how infinitely the heart expands
to claim this world, blue vapor without end.

~ Lisel Mueller

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The Rider

In the halls of my heart there comes a Rider to the door.
I thirst, says He. What would you give Me to drink?

They say He eats no food, but only drinks
I would encourage you not to take that too literally
If you’re not careful, He will gladly gulp you down

I’m not necessarily saying you should be careful

If you part your lips with words of thanksgiving
He will drink His name from the cup of your mouth
He will swallow your sighs and supplications
And breathe Himself into the hollows left behind

If you open your flesh to Him in ecstasy
He will sink His teeth into you and drink you dry
Swilling down the sweet and fiery heat of you
And licking His lips in feral satisfaction

If you bare it to Him in ardent offering
He will gently lap the honey from your heart
Like a babe at his mother’s breast
Love made liquid, self-emptying reverence

Be mindful how you pour yourself out
Before offering up the stirrup-cup
For what the Hunter takes into Himself, He keeps
Twining you into His breath and blood and bone


Saint Francis and the Sow

This found its way to me today. It was definitely…timely.

The bud
stands for all things,
even for those things that don’t flower,
for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing;
though sometimes it is necessary
to reteach a thing its loveliness,
to put a hand on its brow
of the flower
and retell it in words and in touch
it is lovely
until it flowers again from within, of self-blessing;
as Saint Francis
put his hand on the creased forehead
of the sow, and told her in words and in touch
blessings of earth on the sow, and the sow
began remembering all down her thick length,
from the earthen snout all the way
through the fodder and slops to the spiritual curl of the tail,
from the hard spininess spiked out from the spine
down through the great broken heart
to the sheer blue milken dreaminess spurting and shuddering
from the fourteen teats into the fourteen mouths sucking and blowing beneath them:
the long, perfect loveliness of sow.

~ Galway Kinnell


where flowers grow amidst the ashes

the old gods and the new

Apostate Island

the bar is open

The Art of Enchantment

Dr Sharon Blackie: writer, psychologist, mythologist

Call of the Syren

Goddess-centered Polytheism, Social Justice, and World Bridging

Seo Helrune

Devoted to the Liminal

everydayheathenry.wordpress.com/

A heathen conceivably, but not, I hope, an unenlightened one

Keeper of my Keys

A Norse polytheist walking with Sigyn

it's all fun and games till someone loses an i

anaisnein was previously volvano

Wildwood and Wild Hunt

Stumbling through the Wildwood

Of Axe and Plough

Musings from a Germanic polytheistic Pagan with Roman inclinations

weald and wold

a witch, abroad

Coyopa : words by Tom Hirons

lightning in the blood

Tattúínárdǿla saga

Star Wars as an Icelandic saga, and other fun with Old Norse.

The Reluctant Polytheist

Seeking understanding though the chaos

in the flatlands and the city

a spirit worker writes on life, magic, and surviving the plains

Dreaming in Smoke & Fire

Words from a Modern Mystic

"The Lokean"

...Because that's how it appears in search engines. -Ren (Tyrienne)

The Thought Forge

Anthropology, Archaeology, Spirituality, Writing and Other Things

Rebalancing Acts

gebo. and growing grass through the pavement.

A Forest Door

Spirit-Work & Devotional Polytheism

The Raven & The Oak

The path of a Druidess, artist, student, and poet

Of Gods and Angels

A Christopagan turned Lokean. The ups and downs of Angels and Polytheism.

Kvasir Amongst the Gods

An eternally small fish. A ponderously big pond.

Pagan Church Lady

How Conveeeeenient!

Mud and Lightning

"To be a catalyst is the ambition most appropriate for those who see the world as being in constant change, and who, without thinking that they can control it, wish to influence its direction." -Theodore Zeldin

Þungt ymur Þorrinn

Devoted to the Liminal

http://www.cold-albion.net/

Devoted to the Liminal

The Forest Witch

Polytheist Witch & Tea Brewer

Fire and Ink

The personal journey of a Lokean pagan

Prema Kalidasi

Devoted to the Liminal

Magick From Scratch

Breaking down mystical practice and crafting new ritual tech from primary source texts.

bamboo thoughts

thinking and rethinking spiritual life.

Tales From the Stag King's Wife

Godspousery and Spirit work in the Wildwood

The Lure of Beauty

Is its own form of prayer

Lofn's Bard

A Northern Tradition Pagan Storyteller

bloodteethandflame

A life in threes

Sacred Iceland

An American Heathen's adventures in the land of ice and fire

Sword, Table, Antlers

Robin of Sherwood and other Hernecore topics.

Rose Is Reign

~~*holding fire in the house of water*~~

The Wytch of the North

Laurie Beth Dawe: Eclectic Witch, Diviner, Tea Sorceress

Strip Me Back To The Bone

I'll Ride the Wave Where It Takes Me

Logospilgrim

the quiet professor

The Adventures of a Bohemian Lokean

Loki: Respect, Adoration, Kick to the Mental Junk

Silver and Gold

Musings of a Vanic Priestess (Freya: The Gold Thread)

EmberVoices: Listening for the Vanir

The Musings of a Vanic Conspirator