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Tony Grist

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Three Wiccan Poems [Oct. 2nd, 2007|05:43 pm]
Tony Grist
 

                                    JAQUI’'S INITIATION

 

                                    Say it three times, "I am a Witch"

                                    And the gods will hear you and make it be so.

                                    Gaze in the mirror and watch it happen.

 

                                    No-one out on the street will know

                                    But the flowering may will be friends with you

                                    And the stars will shine for you, sisterlike.
  

                                   
                                    
MOTHER DAMNABLE

 

                                    I will not be noticed.

                                    I will go where a mouse can go.

                                    I will come like lichen.

                                    I will leave like snow.

                                    And on holy days,

                                    Lower your priest-entrammeled eye;

                                    You may not see, you shall not see

                                    Us witches rabbiting through the sky.

 

                                    HALLOWEEN

 

                                    Hierarchs hard as hitching posts

                                    In a circle round the Lamb,

                                    Copes all stiff with English work

                                    Really?  I don't give a damn.

 

                                    Merrily, merrily ring the bells

                                    Out of the merry village spire.

                                    Lets go down to the bramble wood

                                    And look for faces in the fire.

 

                                    Jesus has a robe of purple,

                                    On his head a crown of thorns.

                                    All our master wears is winter,

                                    Nothing on his head but horns.

           

                                    Stars that clink at wrist and ankle

                                    That is how the midnight sounds.

                                    No-one here will get to bed

                                    Before the milkman starts his rounds.

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Comments:
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[User Picture]From: poliphilo
2007-10-02 05:52 pm (UTC)
Thanks.

They were written when I was a Wiccan priest, about 14-15 years ago.
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[User Picture]From: jenny_evergreen
2007-10-02 06:38 pm (UTC)
"I will come like lichen. I will leave like snow."

I think those are absolutely flat-out perfect lines.
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[User Picture]From: poliphilo
2007-10-02 07:08 pm (UTC)
Thanks.
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[User Picture]From: veronica_milvus
2007-10-02 06:32 pm (UTC)
fabulous! Are these new poems?

do you ever tell why you aren't doing Wicca any more?
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[User Picture]From: poliphilo
2007-10-02 06:57 pm (UTC)
Thanks. I'm afraid they're about 15 years old.

We used to run a coven. It broke up and our first initiate- a girl we'd come to think of as an adopted daughter- cut us out of her life. It killed the magic for me- and I got out as soon as I could.

But I was already moving away from ritual and the need for formal religious practice. The crisis in the coven just speeded up the process.

For a good while the memories were painful and I didn't want to think too much about those years. The fact that I'm now posting these poems and related reminiscences must mean I'm coming out of that phase.
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[User Picture]From: veronica_milvus
2007-10-03 01:40 am (UTC)
I liked "stars that clink at wrist and ankle". Great line! Glad you posted that.

Maybe Wicca might be calling you back? Are you still a believer?
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[User Picture]From: poliphilo
2007-10-03 10:04 am (UTC)
I'm glad you like it.

What I'm doing here (I think) is reclaiming a part of my past that I've rather shied away from until now. I got hurt and- well- I didn't want to think too much about it. But I couldn't go back to being a witch any more than I could go back to being a Christian priest. Those things are finished for me.

If I went back I'd be simply repeating myself and that would be pointless.

I gained a whole lot from Wicca- as I gained a whole lot from Christianity. And what I am now I really don't know. I had to fill in a questionnaire the other day and scratched my head for the longest time over the bit where they asked for my religion. I toyed with "agnostic" but finally settled for "pagan".

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From: amritarosa
2007-10-02 08:22 pm (UTC)
What a lovely way to start into the studio- reading these is inspiring :)
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[User Picture]From: poliphilo
2007-10-02 09:06 pm (UTC)
Well, thank you....
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[User Picture]From: currawong
2007-10-03 07:20 am (UTC)
Very nice poem ... i don't know if I should be presumptuous enough to say this, but I've been chatting with you on and off very pleasantly for a long time so I'll risk it ... going back to Wicca would seem to me like swapping a right-hand crutch for a left-hand one.
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[User Picture]From: poliphilo
2007-10-03 09:42 am (UTC)
I agree. I couldn't go back. I don't need those crutches any more- either of them.

What I'm doing, I suppose, is reclaiming that time of my life. Up until now I've rather skirted round it because some of the memories hurt.
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[User Picture]From: currawong
2007-10-03 09:56 am (UTC)
So glad i didn't offend ... i was a bit worried ... the past is constanly with me, deconstructed, dramatised and luridly alive in my increasingly vivid dreams ... the same themes over and over again ... making up for lost dreamtime from when I was slave to the demon weed, I suppose.
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[User Picture]From: poliphilo
2007-10-03 10:13 am (UTC)
This marshalling of memories is important I think. You live a life and then you leaf through it and draw conclusions. I don't know- it seems to be where I am at the moment.
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From: amritarosa
2007-10-16 05:17 am (UTC)
I love these, and have been in a Halloween mood all week- may I repost that one?
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[User Picture]From: poliphilo
2007-10-16 11:40 am (UTC)
I'd be flattered if you did. :)

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