Hi, Dionysos

Don’t write poetry when you’re drunk, I’ve said, and yet it all weaves and wends, like under the tree where I still don’t know what they re-wove. He’s there, smiling again, back, like the time He was on another’s face, and then another’s.  The time I sat there, writing about the clothes the gods wear, […]

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Yes (Beltaine, 2014)

Ceridwen That was a very long death this time.  I guess I needed to see the ladle in Her hand to get the point, because seeing Her sickle in the sky and greeting Her means something. I forget.  I forget life while in death.  I forget the light in the darkness, just as I forget […]

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Three days of thought, dancing.  A day or two of the dead. There’s the goddess who drowns children. The goddess who goes down and then returns.  And the two dead under the tomb. There’s the death in the eyes of another, though he is not dead but only beginning to live.  Eyes can dance, you […]

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Threads in Candlelight

I said to a friend, “We see the darkness, and some go in.  It is the abyss.  We have to find out what is there, to find out if there is meaning.  And we see only the abyss. And some go mad. And some never return. And some–” I’m pretty sure Dionysos sort of doesn’t […]

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When Gods Come Back Around….

The night before I left Seattle, my brother-in-law brought me two glasses of mead which we’d brewed together, a Methyglyn, an herbed-mead brewed with herbs sacred to my gods of which the majority-part was Chamomile, sacred to Arianrhod. “I brought you two,” he said.  “One for Dionysos.” There’s much to say regarding this matter, but […]

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