THE WHITE HORSE part 7

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He came in. He sat down. He took off his shoes. He sighed. She fell. She dropped the book. She broke down. She cried. Another box of broken things, another chair that doesn’t creak. I barely know you anyway so you don’t owe me anything. Chrysalis, that’s the past. Butterfly, the painting I made. I wish I could hold you, slowly your wings begin to droop just outside my door. He came in. He sat down. He took off his shoes. He sighed. She hollered. She moaned. She blacked out. She died. Just a little bit of this and a little bit of that. He’s alone and she’s gone, no more spare wings under the bed. She’s an explosion and he’s due to arrive, too many bad ideas anyway. Cocoon, something is happening. Butterfly, velvet air. You’re gone, inside us all, dying and trying to get through another dead day. I put my head under water, I looked for fishes and dreams. There was nothing but me, hooked, my eyes closed. There is nothing but worms and my splashing wings. Could I love you? Perhaps when you spread open your heart, blue to the sky. Could I bring you back from the dead? I doubt it, I already left empty handed. Empty room. I’m always flying west and resting on flowers. Empty, I feel, not an eye to see. Inside out, these bodies of us, on the other side scraping the inside walls. Under the ground, only the lonely covered in dirt. Everything he ever did was wrong and everything she ever did was silent. He’s not wrong, he’s missing. She’s not silent, she’s gone. Heartless, he gave it to me. “When you died you went back to the light.” She said. He laid there listening to her heart…

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I reached up and stroked his muzzle with the side of my hand, I don’t know why or if he liked it, I didn’t really think about it, it just happened. He was so soft and warm and for the first time he seemed almost calm, serene. He closed his eyes and I just kept stroking him. What a beautiful stallion, such a divine creature I thought to myself. After a few minutes I rested my head against his strong, pulsing neck as I continued to stroke him and I too closed my eyes. I could hear his deep breathe and smell the sweat on his sleek black skin. We had a certain chemistry between us, as if nothing could stand in the way of our union. This meeting was part of my destiny and just as important as the rest. The union of not the body but of the essence of being. There is something more than the body that draws us to another. The way most people only see the surface of things is why everyone is sad. They cannot look far enough into each other to see what it is they were looking for, something they were missing. Instead they only see the outside and forget that there is something more that has to be felt mysteriously between two souls, not obviously just because of our bodies. All witches know about these lunar secrets, the magnetic pull that souls have upon one another is so powerful they can find each other anywhere in the universe and most of the time we don’t even know it’s our very own soul that has called from afar to the other, “Come to me, help me, I need you, remember me wherever you are” And the one you secretly called in your dream shows up and changes your life forever in a way that nobody else could. I feel thIs is who Pan is for me. I felt like I could stay here forever but as grandma always said, “Nothing lasts forever.” But let me also remind you, I will be there when you call me as fast as my black stallion can run.

After awhile of peaceful resting we took off again into the valley of white. The pale pink horizon stretching out before us into eternity. It wasn’t long though until I began noticing a few trees on the edges of the stream and as the stream started becoming more like a river the trees grew thicker and taller on it’s banks. It was a wide, white path of gigantic rocks and shimmering sand paralleled by a roaring white river and giant sycamore trees. The trees themselves were a less pale shade of white. The scenery was astounding, breathtaking. The purity of the landscape made me feel as if I had died and gone to a heavenly realm, like if I looked into the white fluffy clouds I might see the angels that I could hear softly singing in the zephyr breeze. Even Pan seemed to slow down a bit and take notice of the glory of nature herself. Then after awhile of peaceful travel enjoying the beauty of white, I saw a vulture fly by which was strange because it was black, as black and shiny as Pan, yet with a violet sheen to it’s feathers. Then shortly after that I began to feel a mysterious pull from the trees on the left side of the white sandy highway. I am a witch and I do have a sixth sense and this time I knew something was changing behind the scenes and so I started to look around as we rode through the white, wondering why I was overtaken by this lunacy, as if the astral current was more potent than the breeze itself. Then all of a sudden, from out of nowhere a strong wind blew as the distant trees howled and instantly a little girl stood before us, she had materialized out of thin air. Even Pan seemed surprised and came abruptly to a halt. This little girl looked to be about five years old and she was naked. She had silky long white hair and pale white skin. Her eyes were a shocking, translucent blue and her cheeks had a subtle pink hue as well as her lips. She was angelic just standing there serenely watching us come into her stillness. She didn’t talk at first, she glanced at Pan and then she just stared at me. She wouldn’t stop staring. I wanted to do something for her, she seemed so vulnerable, so delicate in the immensity of where she stood as a frail, tiny flower upon a stark and barren vast of white. Then I heard a small voice say, “My name is Azalea. Nobody comes here.” I was speechless. Her voice was magical and it rang out in it’s smallness echoing long after she was quiet. Then she spoke again, “Do you belong to the Dark Sun?” Again, I could not answer her and Pan was quiet as well, very still in her presence. She was as etheric as an orchid and yet direct in her penetrating gaze. This little girl I wondered, was she a mirage, some sort of oasis upon the sands of endless white? Her tiny body held some queenly command over this place because when the vulture flew over us again she lifted her slender arm towards the sky and the large, predator bird swooped down landing on the ground beside her. “This bird,” she said, touching the head of the vulture, “Is also a butterfly but you won’t know until tomorrow.” For some reason Pan knelt down as if I should dismount him and so I did and immediately Azalea walked over to me and reached up for my hand. I bent down and took her little hand and peered deeply into her glowing blue eyes, her eyes seemed to go back forever as if I could never come to the bottom or the end of this immaculate child. I felt like I was floating inside of her and that she was inside of me with a force of purity that seemed impossible. I don’t know why, but the next thing I knew, warm tears began to stream down my face and I started to silently cry. I wanted to protect her but I didn’t know how and besides she didn’t seem to need my protection somehow she seemed ancient like a great flower that could never die and I just felt clumsy, hollow. Her presence commanded some sort of queenliness and yet I wanted to hold her and wrap her in soft, pretty blankets. My heart was beating loudly and I could hear Pan breathing behind me, consoling me compassionately as if he understood that there is no such thing as time here upon the white sands of eternity. Her tiny hand was cold and delicate and yet the power that I felt emanating from it was unearthly. I know I needed to say something even though words keep seeming to get in the way. “I love you.” She whispered. her eyes as gentle as her voice, “I love you too.” Just popped quietly out of my mouth and I don’t know why. I didn’t know her, we didn’t know each other and yet I can’t explain that it was so much deeper than a physical meeting. What I mean is that this wasn’t a touch or a word between two strangers inhabiting vessels of flesh. Our communion was not limited to our ages and our separate bodies but what was felt between us was something else much more sacred than the confines of the vessel that contains us, the transient vessel that is given a name and born into a family. This recognition was beyond the grave of children or women, inside the nest of the immortal, invisible, intangible love that is without any cover of flesh or womb. Barely, besides these bones I do not have you, I only have me. Then I wonder are you in there divine little girl, making a kingdom for me? She leaned in very close almost like the old spider lady looking for something inside, examining me somehow. Then she said, “You don’t know do you? This is the Skeleton Garden of Mother, she keeps dying.” She just sighed. “How did you get here?” I asked. “We don’t remember.” “Who cares for you?” “Nobody.” “How do you eat?” “The butterflies drop food from the sky.” Why do you call it a Skeleton Garden?” “We create things from her bodies without their skins.” “Her bodies?” I asked, “Where do the bodies come from, how do they get here?” “She is just here, every morning lying dead, day by day.” She  replied, “The butterflies turn into vultures and then they surround her and we eat while they eat and by the afternoon the bones are ready.” She motioned her hand in the direction of the trees and said proudly, “We build everything for her. She is our mother. We pray to her skeletons that cannot be destroyed by death.” She closed her eyes as if remembering something, then she said, “She left us in charge of the fire.” I was confused and asked, “What did you build? What fire?” She lightly giggled and the vulture responded by fluffing her feathers gently, “You don’t know very much princess.” She solemnly added, “The Dark Sun gives us everything we need. I hope he gives you something too. Come with me, I’ll show you.” Her small voice rang through the air as she let go of my hand turning around like an echo from long ago with the shiny vulture loping by her side, she began to walk towards the trees. “Come with me.” She said, “It isn’t far.” I looked at Pan and he had already taken steps to obey her and so I did too. I wiped the tears from my wayward eyes and I followed the mystical, virgin white, little girl into the sycamore trees. Now, I have nothing left but her small sweet voice in my head…moonlight.

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Butterfly, my human heart, I am cloaked as the royal, monarch, In the diamond canyon where you spiral. I am the rainbow zephyr. I never hurt anyone, don’t hurt my rare, tender body, pierced by a pain that builds cocoons. Be me, pure in a white horse body instead. Nebulous, clusters of pearl, deep in the valley’s ocean of stars, find me for yourself, echo soft ghost there’s probably room beside you underneath her bed. I never had these things and now I’m old, drifting flowers are forgotten. Destroyed. You think it’s about me, frail porcelain, her insane asylum. Can you give me something softer to hold, real like a kitten in pink? I had a diamond ring but I didn’t want it, I wanted you shining instead. When he covered his eyes I didn’t say a word, a summer dipped in mortal sadness, young life zipped up in a plastic bag. Holy matrimony. Carry me with you into the forest of crowns, wild with life, blue sapphires all around me. Immortal ring. I kissed an old flame inside of a circle, I drew a pentagram on his chest and I then said goodbye. What does it mean to touch someone you can’t see? What does it mean to be touched by the blind? Light through the canopy trees, tangled in a love that hurts, don’t we all? What does it mean to be with the lightless, near death experience of you without clouds? I can’t miss this, the shadows that hover like dead children over their weeping mothers. You are always bigger in my big dream and I’m so small like a tiny, pink baby. You step right over me looking for what you’ll never find without me. I watch you crawling and I wonder what does it mean to be found by the lost? Vultures fly by in the dark sent by the queen, in the forest where you left me undead. Vultures in the morning, they become butterflies somehow painted with four moons and shafts of his knife. Feed me, anchor my bones in this earth. She’ll be here forever, every sunrise we find her lying dead, brought back to life by our prayer, we as her ghostly children. I don’t understand any such haunting, the sacred bath, her drown face down in your water valley of white flowers. On the water, swan child, drifting, floating, spiraling inside of me, the blue pearl, who is white with no shell. Skeleton on the water, bones brought home. Moon horse who is floating upon the twelve dreams of her. Underneath what we’ve become is the crescent, sharp and ready to kill. I love dying with you on the throne.

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Swan Song. Queen Child. Sharada Devi

 

THE WHITE HORSE part 6

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I took down the words that destroyed me, I forgot the song you loved. I sank the only bird I knew and I jumped, how low can I go. In a pile of bones at the bottom of death, the word bothers you I know. Did you go without me I don’t think you could, ever leave me stranded in the blank. Blank in the silence, blinded by dusk, another star has fallen, with or without you this sky must go. There is no way to leave here, the place where we can’t see, truly this is not the love that would ever set us free. It isn’t that, it’s mine for you. I’ll do it, it’s yours. My open neck. Do you care that I’m missing some pieces? The earth fell apart and nothing would stop it. In me, my stomach, this world that I sank. Broken hearted without even knowing where to look next. To find you where it’s still pure…if she is death I must go. If she is life I must go. Go with me, don’t make me leave here all alone…into the silence, hello darkness my old friend…

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I woke up the next morning to find myself surrounded in white, everything was white. The bush where the food was left was a pale alabaster more like a tumbleweed than a bush actually. It looked like a desert with endless sand dunes and a pale rose colored horizon that went on forever. There was a stream of white silvery water winding itself as far as the eye could see. It was totally barren besides tumbleweeds, the pristine white sands and giant archaic rocks, the murmuring, winding stream and the pale white sky dotted with lavender and parchment colored clouds. I know these words now to describe the subtly of various shades of white and other pale angelic hues. It was heavenly, vastly immaculate, and the pure, clear light shone down gentle and warm on my face. I saw Pan watching me so I hurriedly got up and just left the blanket and food there in the sand. Pan kneeled down and I got on. He seemed rested and very alive this new morning and when his eyes shot daggers of red light into mine, I fell in love with him all over again. He was not only a horse, whatever that means, he was so much more than a ride, he was a paradox and a destination unto himself. I wanted in, into his heart just to feel what he felt while he ran with abandon carrying me on his broad back. I could feel his heart throbbing between my legs or at least I imagined I did and this was an intimacy that made me feel wild, like taking off my clothes and running along side him, of course I could never keep up and I also liked being on top, so all was well. And he ran like thunder on glass, cracking the white earth beneath him with every wrathful thump. This horse was ridden by me, that would make me his consort in a way and that thought alone made me feel very grown up, like a woman and not just a child like everyone called me back home. There is another home we must find, that is deeper than the comfort of shelter and familiar silence, there is the home that taints our soul with the colors we know deep inside that we are, if only someone would show us. I had Pan. After many hours of traveling through the empty white dunes with the sparkling white pure sands and winding silver stream we stopped and got some water and food, again by a bush which was really a tumbleweed. There was a package of food and a trough of food and water for the stallion. We ate and we drank while the sky was growing dim, finally Pan snorted and I knew it was time to get back on. In the distance I heard an unusual high pitched sound and I had no idea what it could be. Pan turned his head toward the noise and there was a flash in my head, I saw something dark and ominous and it was big. It was such a sudden flash, I couldn’t make out much more than that, but I got a bad feeling. Pan knew I was afraid and for a moment he seemed to grow soft. He wanted me to hold on this time tighter than before and close my eyes when we reached the origin of this sound. He wanted me to not be afraid, he was my protector and there was nothing to fear. He conveyed all of this to me silently and by the flash of the image. When he looked into my eyes he was able to send me words and feelings nonverbally and non linearly.
This was amazing but true, Pan was miraculous and deeper than I had assumed. This black stallion was the magic that passion is made from, the wisdom that stems from fearlessness, the majesty that is born of freedom at any cost. I feel a connection between us that is uncanny. He is mine, all mine. Stallion of the Dark Lord.

So I held on as tight as I could and I clamped my thighs with every ounce of my strength. Then I took a deep breath and lightly closed my eyes. I really didn’t want to miss a thing. How far away the sound was I do not know but Pan ran and we were getting very close. Suddenly Pan came to an abrupt halt and I peeked through half closed eyes, there was a ravine before us, a deep crack in the earth that went about twenty feet down and it was from out of this crack the sound was rising, much louder now, a high and piercing hum, almost like a buzzing drone. Pan just stood there surveying the situation and he seemed tense. I looked down into the crevice being that he stood right at it’s edge and what I saw was so scary, so weird I’m not even sure if I should tell you lest you don’t have bad dreams tonight because of me…but if you really must know, down below at the bottom of the crevice as well as perched in little holes dug into it’s sides were these large insect looking creatures, not as large as the upright serpent, probably only about two to three feet high. They were a brownish gold color and had wings like a wasp, their wings were transparent and shimmering with bright colors. Their bodies were long and thin in two segments and they walked bended over like a praying mantis. Some were walking carrying things that looked like pieces of bone and others carried what appeared to be capsules wrapped up in a white silky substance. They were busily walking back and forth and putting these items in a big pile near a small murky pond while other insect crestures were flying, circling around a honeycomb structures that looked like a large black hive. So large, I’d say about twenty feet tall because it’s tip was almost to the top of the ravine. The hive was shiny and sticky with a red ooze draining out of it’s cavities. The creatures were so intent in their activity that they did not even see us watching them. They were diligent and determined with whatever this task was. As they worked their wings moved very quickly like a hummingbird and made a very loud humming noise. The high pitched droning hum was so loud now it was disorienting. The crevice was at least fifteen feet across and when Pan backed up and his body tensed I grew very afraid because I know he intended to jump across this crack in the earth. I took a deep breath, grabbed his mane with clenched hands and tightened my legs around his body and this time I closed my eyes for real. Then, just as he was about to take off, I heard a giant popping sound and he reared up and whinnied loudly. I almost fell off but I didn’t. I opened my eyes and standing before us was a woman I suppose, but not like one you or I have ever seen. She was ordinary size, maybe even a little bit shorter than me and she was very old. She looked so ancient I can’t even say how old she might be. She had long, dirty disheveled white hair that went all the way to the ground. She was naked and her ghostly pale body had stains of red all over it and what seemed like black soot. She was extremely thin, gaunt like a spider and she had what looked like one long pointed tooth coming out of the center of her mouth. She had a bright red tongue, very thin and forked like a snake. Her tongue came out of her mouth hanging about eight inches down almost touching the center of her bony throat and it was quivering as if to sense something. Her eyes were round, bulging and white, filled with red broken veins and in the center of each pupil was an emerald colored V. Her skin was wrinkled but had a sheen to it that was mysterious and made her appear nonhuman, ethereal, like I might be able to put my arm right through her. She was making a clicking noise and Pan was not happy. He stood there with me on his back and just stared at her snorting, his eyes were peeled back and I could tell he knew who she was. The tension was unbearable until abruptly she yelled, “Spook! You know nobody crosses alive! She is mine before she is his, let me see her!” Pan just stared into her terrifying eyes as if they were communicating. Then suddenly she grabbed for my wrist as if to pull me off the horse. And just as she did this two of her creature servants landed next to her. My wrist stung, my head was woozy, I didn’t know what to do. Pan stood there totally confident yet aware of a danger that was beyond my imagination. She stood there holding my wrist staring at me and said, “Kittens, no more kittens! Get off the horse!” And she pulled me off. Pan was watching as if he knew something I did not. I fell to the ground and quickly stood up, her two servant creatures came to stand on either side of me, wings buzzing. “So here you are, hmmm…she said stealthily, studying every inch of me as she walked around my body. “Hmmm, I can see. I can see.” Then she came in really close up to my face and looked intensely into my eyes, I could smell the rancid blood on her breath, drops of blood dripped from the edges of her mouth. “Spook! I could bite you!” She laughed loudly, “Yes! Yes! I could eat you!” And she stared into my eyes with a vengeance I could not understand. “Spook! I’m talking to you! You’re a witch. What did you do to your grandma? Bad, bad girl! Riding donkeys like him!” She motioned to Pan and he replied with a snort. “Do you know who I am!” She yelled,  “Of course you don’t. You’re a stupid, stupid girl who rides wicked donkeys! I am ALIVE! Wasp like a witch! I eat everything that moves! I’m hungry juicy witch!” She glared at Pan and said, “She’s mine, not his! Spook!” Pan was mostly ignoring her as if, like I said before, he knew something that I did not. The two servant drone creatures stood waiting for her next command. One started to reach for me and she hissed and yelled, “No! Let her stir, let her stir.” I was growing dizzy and faint from all the humming and from the odor of blood, so when she bent in drooling to sniff my neck I collapsed onto the ground and passed out. I don’t know how long I laid there but when I opened my eyes she was wildly dancing, shrieking and groaning with pleasure while the creatures flew around her in a frenzied circle. “Rain, rain rain on me!” She sang in a lilting voice as a dark colored water fell from the sky just above us. I looked up realizing I was soaking wet. It was the large black cloud that the moon had been blowing away last night that now hung over us spilling a dark sulphurous smelling liquid. The liquid ran down her skeletal body while she held her mouth wide open to the dark raining sky sucking while her long pronged tongue wiggled in ravenous rapture. The soot and dried blood that covered her face and body started to run down her in streaks of red and black. She was spinning under the ominous cloud giggling and gurgling. She flung her arms and legs in all directions and when little flies started pouring out of her private holes she screamed out in bliss or agony I couldn’t be sure. It was a terrifying and gory experience and I didn’t know how much more I could take. And then instantly the dark cloud drifted away and she sighed with a strange sort of peace. She then abruptly looked at Pan and said, “Fine. Just go but tell him I want more. A lot more! Spook!” And as fast as she appeared she disappeared and the drone creatures flew back down into the ravine. Pan knelt down and nudged my arm with such gentleness and solidity I felt reassured, safe and somehow deeply loved all at the same time. “She won’t be back.” He said in his own wordless way.

There are certain things that nobody can do for us. We alone must face the face of our own destructive force. Not the force that would conquer the darkness like Pan, but the force that would create the darkness like the ancient spider woman. There is a big difference and yet they are the same at the root. I understand now who she was and why she let me go. She rivals the Dark Sun but cannot sustain herself without him and since I belong to him, she had to let me go. Those that do not know him would say he was evil, an evil beyond any dark force that he consumes, but I would tell you that this isn’t true. He is an enigma, a grip on every heart to find sanction, a way to make amends in the places where no light shines. Therefore he becomes the light, inverse and indestructible. Raw truth he rubs in your face and at first you might hate him for it. You might feel like he’s cursing you or even killing you slowly, sadistic and cruel. But if you go deeper inside of yourself where he hunts you and haunts you, you will feel the force of his tender love that would save you when you need him the most. We cannot be weak and alive at the same time. We cannot make love if we can’t enter our own black hole. Whether to plunge or to perish the gap between our dichotomy of self. I would not know I was dead if I weren’t alive. And I know we haven’t arrived yet where he waits patiently, behind the scenes guiding us all. Right now we are on our way to the Loom and I’m still wondering how far must I go to find you?

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Killing me softly, words never said. His eyes told me everything and his hand held me still. A sigh in a dark room, I’ve imagined this journey. If you’re real you should say so, tell me now or forever hold you peace. Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake I pray the lord my soul to take.
People die in their sleep you know. I miss you. Not your name or your gesture but the mark that you left on the silence of night, Dark Silence. Still wanting the words to give back to him, formless without me he waits. As silence, hidden behind the golden dawn.

Sharada Devi

THE WHITE HORSE part 5

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Enigma, red sinner. Blue vapor your eyes. Words that take over as if somebody else could say them. I rode him for hours, bruised to the bone.
Her faces in the sky, no hands only pieces. Departed she whispered, somewhere else, deeper than this, invisible places for the faithful. God sends rain and doves that don’t count, prayers kept on ice just in case. A blood wolf searches for you, I smell rain, open flower fangs, the hungry. Indestructible forces of bliss, turn over the morning, sky jewel. She doesn’t die for anyone but him, moon beam sword through his heart of gold, impaled, the pale pink love. Losing blood just for you, draining the hole that you left, almost gone, bliss she is empty. Over me, dying slowly our heavenly realm, ecstasy has no prophet. There is no god but the one that we spend, losing more of ourselves through your emerald eyes, gaze between us, priceless jewel. One thought only, how deep can you go? Tunnel, you know what I’m saying. Sky, get down. Stabbed, valentine. Malefic gods make war in more ways than one. Attraction the violent seducing of slumber, I never sleep when you’re around. Circle of two besides me, eating tail, swallowing head. Striking snake. One pointed phallus, it’s a perfect alignment, don’t back down from the one only hole. Dearly departed, there’s nowhere to go. Come to me with shaded eyes and cover the light one more time. Never enough, lonely so lonely, my endless love. Skeleton of my prophet, who already told me, “The bone sees. Go without knowing.” She lives there waiting for you, under moon’s spell.

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I held onto his mane with all my might and he took off into the fading light. The ground beneath us pounded like thunder, the earth shook, the birds left the trees, and he ran and he ran as wild as an animal just freed from captivity. He never slowed down and he knew exactly where he was going. The power of this stallion could not have been ordinary, this was a god that I sat on, he seemed immortal, a timeless conqueror of whatever stood in his way. He didn’t seem to notice whether or not I was even still on his back, somehow, some way, as if by magic I did not fall off. There is no way anyone could ride this creature without being themselves a warrior god. I myself, began to be infused with his ruthless disregard for safety and so I closed my eyes and just set my mind free, the wind through my hair, smelling the freshness of the breezy night air, listening to the sounds of this mystical underworld where anything seems possible and yet there was a plan, a destination of purpose that they all were aware of but me. I felt like I loved this horse, just feeling his black sleek skin. Of course I know he is an animal, but if you were there you would understand and I’ve never met a boy that I loved. I loved the black stallion and I’m just being honest. I love Ceres too, but this is different and the difference is that Ceres preserves me and comforts me and Pan disturbs me and threatens my existence just by being near him, I feel differently about dying. I always thought dying would be when your energy gets so low that nothing is left so you just die, but with Pan I felt the opposite that I was so alive I couldn’t even stay in my flesh, that I wanted whatever he was to consume me and I can’t really explain why except that he wasn’t afraid of anything and I was. His magnetic body held me to him, like two fires becoming one. The evening had grown to night and all I could see was black. It was getting windy and I was getting so tired. It was as if Pan was also a mind reader because after we climbed one more small hill, he stopped and knelt down so I could get off. There was a small bush of some sort with a lantern next to it. It appears that somebody knew we were coming. I held up the lantern and saw that there was a blanket and some food. I looked over and Pan was drinking water out of a nearby trough. So I spread out the blanket and sat down to eat. It was suddenly so quite and still with only a slight howling of a far away wind. I took some deep breaths trying to settle myself after the long, intense ride. I closed my eyes, taking long breath after breath, praying to grandma that we both felt safe and cared for and just as I finished my prayer a trickling light streamed through the sky right before me and landed in a glowing puddle onto the dark earth. l lifted my head looking up and saw to my amazement that there were twelve moons alive spread out like queens upon various heavenly thrones in the velvety deep, violet blue sky. These moon goddesses were undressed and in various phases which was very unusual from a witch’s perspective, as which moon do you follow, how do you sync with the circadian tides? These twelve enigmatic moons all had faces of goddesses, they seemed to have seen me notice them and were gazing down at me from their spacious segmented realm in the sky. There were a few that appeared to be crying and that’s why the light fell to the ground, it was a moon tear of the goddess. The moons that weren’t crying were doing other things, like one was laughing and slightly rocking, one was spinning on some type of axis with golden threads of light coming out of either point of her lunar body, and one was blowing something dark away that looked like it might be a storm cloud but watching a little longer the dark figure was actually alive and also residing in the sky as if it were an enemy of the moons. I wonder who the dark cloud could be? Anyway, I have no idea how to describe how unusual and rapturous the sight was of the twelve opulent goddesses of the moon. Nothing is ever lost, we can find her if we try. I hope you believe me when I tell you that these moons also had names, I found this out later and the reason they have names is because in the summer on the solstice they are worshipped as the twelve concubines of the Dark Sun. On the winter solstice they are worshipped as the twelve child baring mothers of the Dark Sun and the rest of the year and especially on the equinoxes, they are prayed to to guide and protect all the departed souls of their abode. They are the holy goddesses of the twelve hours of symbolic night and they send us dreams of them through the astral sphere of sound, a sound not literally heard but felt as a calling from deep within our souls and this calling manifests itself as dreams disguised in symbol and rich meaning of which when we listen to our heart we will know the way to go. The moon goddesses, however revealing are always waiting at the crossroads, the crossing over, the first and last breath of our life to guide us in the dream, through the dream back to their orchestrated chaos of soul churning and true love. A love that waits at the end of every dream for us to find. The light is a goddess who can even appear as a black and invisible moon and she is the most powerful as she takes everything seen, including dreams, including you and she swallows it whole, the round imagination of life, and she takes us to the edge of every ending and spreads us out and flattens our heart and covers us with her very own body of blackness. I tell you about her because she is his favorite, my lord the Dark Sun, the reign of my beast who is him, the hidden hand touching me always. Tempting me to move closer, further, more transparent…but you don’t know him yet and neither do I, it will all become more clear as the story goes on, it’s a long story too, but let me just say, I could hear in my listening heart that this night sky, wherever we were, was illuminated with pure wonder and wisdom. In awe I slowly ate just watching the moons weep, laugh and sway. The food was good, I had bread and fruit. The bread tasted just like the bread that my grandma used to make before she got too weak to cook, and there was also some kind of sweet fruit that was foreign to me but also delicious. There was water in a jar that tasted sweetened by herbs and honey and it was all wrapped up nicely in a package with a bow. After I finished eating I laid down on the blanket, it was a warm night and the black stallion was standing nearby, I could hear him breathing and I felt safe with him regardless of his seething wrath. I laid there just staring at the miraculous sky and pondering this strange experience. It could have only been a day since I got here and yet I feel like I can never go back to who I was and this made me feel sad, somehow lonelier than I had ever felt before, and as I lay here with quiet tears streaming down my face, I watch the moon who is also crying with little drops of light tears falling through the sky and I don’t feel so alone knowing she is there and that she is sad too. My grandma always said I was a loner because no one could keep up with me and because I was rare like an expensive diamond only the rich women can wear. My grandma said I was the best of everything because I was harmless due to my sensitive nature. I think my grandma would be very surprised when she finds out what will happen, the things I am capable of. However, she must already know being that she knows everything. I used to always suspect grandma hid things from me like she was trying to protect me from some secret that if I found out might destroy me, maybe this is the secret, maybe she’s right, maybe that world up there wasn’t big enough for me so the ground had to suck me up and the snakes and horses had to teach me about priceless things, more rare than even diamonds. Forbidden magic, the kind of magic that is kept secret, hidden behind the many moons from even the stars, due to it’s destructive potency in the wrong hands. I told you I never wanted to be a witch didn’t I? I just want to stay at home and play with my cats, the rest of all these stories of me being spooky and possessed by the devil like my mother are just lies to keep me and my grandma locked away so we can’t help the women give birth or sick people get better. Everybody is afraid of what they don’t understand and it seems to me that if we resist, we just stay afraid and get angry and then we start hurting people and chasing all the animals away. That’s not life, that’s a torture chamber. I’m happy me and grandma are free from that sort of torture at least for now. My mind began to slow down as I sunk deeper into the sound of Pan’s nearby rhythmic breathing until all the thoughts subsided and I closed my eyes and just effortlessly fell asleep while the moons cradled the night child and dreams filled us all with miracles and mysteries. Tomorrow will be a day like no other ever in the life of you, sleep well dear one…I love you.

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What can I give you, the quickening, glowing my heart in your hand? Why don’t you see me, faceless behind me. I love you somewhere I can’t find, just a feeling, I don’t really like the word love, it’s a scapegoat. I feel you. In the darkness of night I remember you, you the one I don’t know but I feel as kindred, cover the sky over me, a shine in the blood of me, a surrender to you the one who holds all the cards. Queen Of Hearts are you writing to me, jumbled quick words, a masterpiece of where we meet, alone broken open, yolked, unmade by ourselves. I want to remind you I saw you before, I knew you then as the scramble of moon who couldn’t find me wherever you pointed. I took one look and said, “she’s a viper, a sniper, lead in the water, poisonous, this fruit ripe and fallen. I took your water and then drank your soul, in me, you didn’t know me then as the well. You saw me as unholy, you gave me everything that unravels eventually. I think I love what you did with this place, how I laud you, what should I do, break all the clocks on the wall, jump into your gray lonely ocean? Maybe it’s me, changing moons over the sea, you never leave, only in blackness can I feel you as real. Never your body, only your heat, who I want cold, cool moon, astral purging. Submerging my shadow, entwined your serpent body in mine, listless undying I know what you mean, vines climbing after midnight. She’ll be here soon, and when everything else left us we clung to her edges of then, horns round and smooth, sanctify me, my upturned moon. Scapegoat strikes again. I feel you. Goddess inside you I go and I find you, searching for me who you cover in tears, black water secrets, eight lives have unfolded. Drown me. Do you know that I want you to drop all your sky? Smother me. And I’ll be there if you’ll hold me, a captive or a child, a newborn lover, the card. My syncopated bird song, my imaginary nightmare, my chains inside the tides. Head under water, you, I can’t figure you out, so I stay on the edges hoping you’ll notice, me pulling out of her just for you. Night jasmine splattered in red, a blackened feather bed, a dark hand over my face, without any arms I’m still reaching because that’s what I do, I cut off my limbs to find you, embrace you, my timeless black lover, pure white invisible light you’re inside me, a staff a stag, a soft warm place. Spreading the deck, what’s fallen through the cracks, the times we’ve loved before. I never forgot you, lunatic asylum, only the empress would know. You, only you, high priestess dressed like a snake, pouncing feline, she who draws a silver circle around me, do you hear me, I said, gaze down. Moon spilling secrets, drinking ecstatic tears of devotion more lonely than forever without you. Never leave me, let me come, night mother the sky, morning star who knows anyway. You turn, axis. Triangle, three sided tongue. Ring of smokeless fire, nobody needs to know. Our little secret, love potion, incantation, moon believes you, every light I want. White inside you, hellraiser, my demon with wings, blinded by eights. This is the prophet who cut off his head to see you, I love what’s not there, heavenly body. Venus, my enlightened angel star, I could give you myself.

Sharada Devi

THE WHITE HORSE part 4

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Human my sacrifice, soul penetration, deeper than hell, butterflies spawning, captive young princess, holy bright body, too old to move. Mulling over the heart cavity, I gave you everything I have. I am parallel to the death I ride. Swept by ghosts up to the edges, little by little, inches of touches. His face unpeeled, blinded I hover. Penetration, annihilation, broad shoulders carry me home. She got beaten, malnourished. Human sacrifice, I wouldn’t know. I saw burns in a ceiling, body revealing, lie after lie, the new start. Crime scene. Specks of that, whoever she is, I had to move along, I’m moving closer to the thing I fear to know, turn her over. He knew me, kept wanting me to cry, but I don’t anymore, slippery ignoring the inevitable, they say it’s all about the sky, mangled wings, butterfly massacre. Inverted, the death trap numb from before, you’re an angel sent from heaven, many feathers under your belt, bondage my soul tower, incubate, spawn, me held under glass, looking in virgin white, eating slowly the morning flower. I have nothing to believe in, awareness of awareness, blue sky rubbed raw, where I left you. 28 fingers, gold in the corners, eye sees eye, planting seeds, you don’t want to know. Before we all die, wretched wonder, before the taker is taken, less of me, a mess of me, undress the me, who isn’t pretty like dawn. Always unknown, unturned pages, always prettier than you without her. I will sacrifice the precious human, girl back again, grief in the sunken bowl, you didn’t know me. My soul is heavier than lead, old eyes, thighs that crumble, nobody is looking inside, the ancient eight legged woman who is moaning. Ecstasy, unopened skirt of me, miles upon miles of hot desert sand. Her throat in the bag left over from the rest, screaming electrical wires, swallowing the hole, you don’t want to know. Vultures, I have nothing, before he took me, not getting her, nothing from me. Storm in the desert, howling wind through my eyes, blood tracks, a ran over dog. Vulture the heart of me, veins driving all night, in the road headlights, remember the hitchhiker. I went for a ride, you don’t understand me, a bodiless cloud.
Reaching through, my arm in you. I might be blind, I can’t see you. I felt like there would be something more than this, stellar or virtue. The weaver climbs up to castle, this isn’t the web I was looking for, so sorry my prince. The loom, weaving, tantra blue body starved. Red little girl, waxy, melting candle dripping, perfume as thick as honey. I can bend you and then forget you, I can wind you up tight, under my dead body, somewhere over the widow, no hole. The man was inside, not like a snake, like a throttle. I can see how the night falls when there is nothing else to drop, beneath me to catch the flat darkening sky, just a chain and a pillow and one red soaked eye. Pierce the wild white child, ship wrecked on the shore. Rapids, still dreaming, bound at the throat, hands tight, I won’t promise you me. I’m a cat under a bird, what more could you want? Treading sunrise, whiskers. I love endings, before you. Raven the bird who knew you, dead before me, red hair on fire. Ball of moon, little baby, I love you. Moving too fast to see, horizon split open, between legs spitting out babies. Sharp mountain teeth, eat me. It’s too much. Love bite.

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“His name is Pan,” said the serpent. He will take you the rest of the way.” Then he turned around and started walking back towards the bridge. “But what about you? Where are you going?” I yelled. Without even turning around, he just raised his arm and pointed up as he kept walking. I must admit I was a little sad to see him go and I don’t even know his name. Now here I am and it’s getting darker, there must be a hidden sun somewhere, I just can’t see where the light is coming from. I’m all alone with this black horse and I can’t tell if I’m a prisoner, a hostage or a sacrifice. I’m lost deep inside the earth, everything I’ve ever known is on the outside, afternoons and fields of corn, children playing on fallen trees and my grandma smiling at me. All the things I know are somewhere else back up through the crack I fell through, back up in the warm, candle lit cabin I was born in, back to the wolves that I call friends up above. It all seems like a dream, both there and here, I have no way to know where I’m going and what’s going to happen to me. It would be no use to fight because I have nowhere to go, I am totally helpless deep in this mysterious, hidden land. I could never find my way back to the entrance because I don’t even know how I got here, I only remember falling through blackness, all the red lights and tunnels, the glowing serpents, the bright jewels, the drunken waters of an invisible goddess and the murdered winged fairy with the emerald embedded in her forehead. I am telling you all this as I remember it myself, and again, I hope you’ll forgive any random or out is sync details, I am doing my best and in the heat of my meeting Pan, my heart seemed weighted and my body felt weakened, it’s hard to stay clear when I feel like I’m leaving a part of myself behind, forever because of my running. I wonder now was I chasing the wind going forward or was I running from myself going backward? I think about my mother, the raven and how my father, who I really don’t know, would get drunk and beat her. She would always come to check on me afterwards to be sure that I wasn’t afraid. And she would be bleeding sometimes from her lip or her nose and she would often have bruises and her face would be red and shiny from tears or sweat I couldn’t tell, but she was always smiling and she would stroke my hair and tell me a story, a story my grandma had told her. It was a story about a girl who had a blue flame in her heart and that blue flame would always burn away an angry red fire. Inside the angry red fire lived a devil and that devil would burn away a blue God, until the girl with the blue flame in her heart came along searching for eternal love and so walked into the red fire to find God who might remind her. Then, once she entered the red fire the devil would always turn blue when he saw her pure light, back into God the blue fire, and it was all because of the girl who carried the flame that was pure love. “And do you know why?” she would always say, “It’s because love is all there is and even the anger of darkness and the pain of fear knows it’s true, my daughter there is only the light filled with you.” And then she would sing a song about a bird who was locked in a cage and then freed by a woman who was dying…my mother had many ways to find the magic in life because that’s what witches do, witches create spells out of chaos. I love my mother….then, abruptly pulled from my memories back into my companion’s presence by a loud snort, I knew that I must mount the blackest of beasts, it was clearly inevitable and ordained by the serpent who had brought me this far. I decided I would be brave like my mother and so when he got down on his knees I grabbed his silky mane and jumped on. I didn’t get the feeling that talking to him would be a good idea, he seemed to me to be beyond things like words or requests to not kill me. He didn’t seem interested in me any more than he seemed controllable. I knew I just had to hold onto him tightly and surrender the rest to a God I could never see but only feel because of my mother’s faith and my grandmother’s legacy. The panic I felt at this juncture was not only a fear beyond fright but an exhilaration of an unknowable origin. He was so ravishingly beautiful, so extraordinarily savage and royal. Such an air of invincibility tinged with a willing violence. He didn’t seem at all wise and benevolent like Ceres. Actually he seemed like he would dismiss such frivolity in exchange for direct confrontation at the brink of any stark experience. I’m looking for the words the best that I can but I am uneducated and inexperienced in story telling, even when the story’s true, and so I hope you can see what I see at least enough to know that Pan was the embodiment of a forbidden divinity that couldn’t be denied as red and yet, godlike. I again, found myself attracted to this imminent danger, the threat of his stance. I know he is an animal but he is not like any animal I’ve ever known, he is like a war god who knows more about me than I know about myself. This force of raw virility, the opponent that I cannot control but that I must submit to, the primal essence of darkness somehow embodied in the dangerous black horse that I was about to ride. I’ve learned what these feelings all meant now that I’ve lived many more lives and grown much wiser by experience. I now can define this portal to my initiation into the sacredness of the attraction I felt, I was only a virgin then and so only half alive. The temptation of the invitation to know what happens between men and women was made manifest by the big snake and now we go further inside to the black throbbing horse between my legs, wild and taking me to a place called the Loom where I had been summoned to meet the Dark Sun who was the lord of my life. But you don’t know that yet, we will get to that part later. Me, an abducted friendless girl, taken by surprise into the heart of me, a yearning of mythic proportion and a longing so primal, I was defenseless against any morality or reason. I was bewitched, a witch, by fierce red eyes and the the promise of death.

So I got on, he was hot, fuming almost. His body pulsing in waves, he smelled like smoke. I lost myself in his mystique, I was taken, intoxicated, seduced by a diabolical black stallion. This was all so very strange. But let me tell you, it gets much stranger than this…

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Far off, the starlight now. How could I have ever known that some days never end? Eight pointed star, moons that hiss and slither, hearts that crack and wither, the endless egg of love. Sacrifices, gray day up in smoke, I did it all to make him want me, I didn’t even know who he was. Where did he come from, chasing me, wilderness, forest, the hunted should hide. Could I be the one who hasn’t known your dark side? I sit by the water, she still floats going nowhere, I never move her, just watching flies gather. Holy refuge this memory of me, somewhere else in the story is the moral, just not me. Without boundaries into the shadows I ride,
he loves me there without any surprises. We circle, lay in circles, drawing circles we call the sun, half of me hurts, changing faces floating in darkness, the water we know. Fog, light, onyx the beast who breaks me. What is love? What does it mean? Love to me means open, open wide. Free roaming, fearless show me your eyes.
Red in truth, blue ritual bringing new sin. The devil didn’t know me until now, if he’s even true, I look for his riddle in you. Solving God. Moving as deep as deep can go into the thing that ends me, broken string, knot. I don’t have anyone but you, over yonder. Hunt back. My diamond sword, don’t you dare move a muscle. Get on your knees, you’re under arrest. Blow it to hell, pieces of erotic junk. Love me with precision. Cutting Her up. Pale moonlight over thunder. Lightening strikes twice, homage to the crown. Throne of the erased. Segments, always me taking you there. Blue glowing Eros, a beak growing horns. Horse meat. The black wings of my moon. Overshadowed, everyone’s afraid of me. Undead.

Queen Of Hearts, Sharada Devi

THE WHITE HORSE part 3

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They say I belong to butchers, a brimstone of souls, leaves strung together, a wake with sharp knives, taking sweet meat, brain parts. I was almost his slave, bony fingers, his swan on the floor. Mula swiped me, a cluster of pain, inside these parts I’m sworn to secrecy, stirring the meat, wide open her legs and nobody said a word but the demon. Lift her higher he said, I can’t get underneath. Get me my knife, hung upside down. Emptied, gutted, nothing mattered but you. Sticky flies, licking the screen, bored, hard wanting, get on the cutting board, hey you, chopping you up, pieces of me. Do better, blunt, sawing away. Sharpen the ax, love eats all it sucks, bites opens the wounded, tear jerker, no more sorry lickers, next life. Tongue for breakfast, morning flipping mouths on a plate. Bring me more wine, a butcher they say? I couldn’t find my clothes, pounding young boys in the back, confession: priest I’m horny, hunted by memories of sickness from mosquitoes, biting off heads, prayers in motion, soothsayer, shafts of worded light. Tunnel of laughter, a child like beast, an insect flew inside me and hung around for days, swarms of flies, winged lord black foot. Coming closer, wearing a crown of sharp moons. Worship, stomach growling, tight fisted. Your name on my lips, bliss, agony, asleep for days. Pale rider, ghostly, haunted by rings of children. Running wild on stove tops, innocence in strings, pearls, secrets, touches, roll over, quiet eyes. In the beginning there was a sexual churning, the word: dominate. Handcuffed, rings of the reaper. Grim, tucking your tail, stiff legged son of God, shines on the harlot beneath him. Funny, psycho, forms of a long lost lover, tangled hair, forgetful, which way did he go? Down the front, germs that promise the world, take me where the sun don’t shine, swamp sex. This is meaning, smeared all over your face. Swallowing whole bodies, spit up from the deep, baby vomit, getting colder, older, drunk on red. Let me in, I lost my key. Smoky monster, my bed, lonely flame is on fire. Spineless worm you’ve ruined it all, danger, doom, ok, some get it, some don’t. Fall for me, down for me, all over me, a stuffed memory ready to eat. Fuck you awake, glue sniffer. Party not over, snake eyes. I want to dive deeply looking for cracks in your floor. Brahma Muhurta, his body of light summoned her darkness, snatch me, Ambrosia. He came back for more, the sun from below, his Black Moon Queen. Obey me.

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I don’t tell stories very often and I never write anything down so I hope you’ll forgive me for being careless or forgetful and maybe even mixing things up. My grandma says I have quite an imagination but none of what I’m telling you is from my imagination. I’m telling you a true story about me, long ago before any of you were even born, about a white horse and what happened. There really is a world below here, maybe even more worlds below us than the one I was taken to. All I know is it’s true. The dark sun, he never dies and I will always be with him, but we haven’t gotten there yet. I’m very afraid in case you didn’t know, of the darkness, snakes bigger than me, a white horse that can read my mind and a deep red tunnel carved out of rock. Where I am right now is on my way to the loom, whatever the loom is, we will find out soon. I can’t ask too many questions because he’s a snake and I’ve seen how snakes bite, strike at what bothers them. I think I might bother him, I have a way of rubbing things the wrong way and my grandma said I should be careful making smoke if I don’t want fire. I’m also sorry if I talk too much about my grandma or my complaints about the facts of my life. So anyway, here’s what happened next…I was walking following the snake and hoping that soon we would arrive in a brighter place than the deep, dark red, narrow rock tunnel that seems to wind on forever. We started walking downward steeply in a spiral until the path ended and there was a staircase going down. This staircase looked like it went straight to the bottom of a water body covered in smoke or fog, maybe a swamp, I couldn’t yet tell we were too far away and it was dark and lit only by lanterns that glowed of red light. Once we reached the bottom we were submerged in this dense, mysterious fog, I could hear little splashes like small fish jumping out of water and the scent of sweet perfume hung in the air. There were tall, skinny willow trees with vines wrapped around their branches, the vines covered in fragrant flowers. I also now realized that we were out of the tunnel, and looking up, the sky inside this place went up higher than I could even see. This sky was white and misty with rays of bluish gold light streaming in through the top and through the cracking veins in the massive cavern walls. It was gigantic, this idyllic womb in the earth. There were waterfalls flowing from out of the rock walls, sheer rainbows of colored water tumbling into the swampy water below. Everything was hidden by this mysterious fog except for the shadows cast by different colored rays of light pouring from large, exotic flowers. I could hear birds singing but could not see them. It was more captivating than my words could ever say. “Where are we?” I asked realizing that we had stopped walking and my serpent guide seemed to be looking for something. “This is where the horses live, Ivy Swamp.” Just as he said this I saw a vague movement in the trees way off in the distance and as he gave a slight ring to the bell a horse appeared on the other side of the swamp just standing there looking at us. We were standing at the foot of a bridge that crossed over this swampy water. The bridge looked very old and rickety but nevertheless the large snake said, “Come on.” and we started walking. About half way across I noticed something floating in the swamp and as we got closer I saw that it was one of those beautiful dancing, winged women, face down in the water, her wings looked all chewed up and her pale body was covered in bruises and blood, I gasped and cried out, “Look at her, what happened?!” The tall serpent turned his head peering over his shoulder at me, and just stared very seriously into my eyes. “What happened?” I whimpered. Again, he just stared at me with a piercing certainty and then turned and kept walking. I couldn’t catch my breath, was he a killer? This might be hell because my grandma always said, “You can’t judge a book by it’s cover and sometimes good things are bad and bad things are a godsend.” I was so confused and also trapped underneath the earth by a huge eery swamp with a dead woman who has wings and no legs, following an eight foot snake. What could go wrong, it already has. I am powerless to stop the journey over this water, the darkness lurking and this enchantment so bewitching I cannot even understand it myself. I feel as I am almost possessed, taken over by an attraction I know not from where. It feels like there is a great magnet pulling me into itself and even my grandma can’t save me now. I might already be dead. This might be a dream that I can’t wake up from. I could be a ghost and this snake could be my soul guide. I could be trapped here below the earth, with no real sky or real people like me forever. Suddenly the bell rang shocking me out of my head and back into in my skin. “Don’t be afraid, it’s all your undoing. Come and meet your ride.”

I just want to say that I had always thought that I wasn’t afraid of the dark, but now I know that I am. The ways I thought I met the black, because I knew it’s something a witch should do, is that I would go out alone at midnight and follow my own shallow breath, the sound of the wolves, a ray of telling moonlight. Then I would always end up deep in the darkest part of the forest. I could hear the wolves rustling, sometimes I could even see their amber eyes watching me through the trees and I would just sit on the damp leaves under the scariest, noisiest tree and wait until I saw the first star of the morning. I always thought I might die but I did it because I know my mother is watching from the top of the most dangerous tree and if I get eaten or ravaged by wolves my mother will take my soul with her onto the branches and we can be together again. I can’t say I hope it will happen, after all my grandma needs me and my mother can fly. But I’ve done it and was never killed by any darkness so far so I thought I wasn’t scared of it anymore but now I see that my grandma was right when she said, “We don’t choose which darkness we conquer, it chooses us. That, my sweet girl, is the real burden of light we bare as a witch.” I am only now barely glimpsing how wise my grandma is and I hope I can see her again so I can tell her I’m sorry for everything and I love you out loud. I mention the darkness because standing at the other end of the bridge once we arrived was the biggest, blackest most magnificent horse I have ever seen. Not like Ceres, who made me feel safe in her serene whiteness, but threatening, blacker than I imagine the color of death could even be and as shiny as the bright morning star. So black and shiny he appeared metallic, I knew he was a male by the way he was seething beneath the surface. His eyes were wild and blood red, he was agitated and snorting. His eyes were filled with a powerful danger and his body was wet and steaming. He looked into my eyes with a recognition that disturbed me unbearably, and I forgot everything about anything, I don’t know how, but for a moment I disappeared and there was nothing between us but a blackness lit by red heat. My body was burning and I felt like a killer. I don’t know how to describe it because I know it makes no sense, this morbid sense of keen attraction, this knowing. Could this be the end of me, it almost seems like it should, like I might welcome my death into him, this sorcerer horse. We stood there, me, the big seductive snake and the terrifying black stallion. There was no time, only a dark magnet pulling me under the world I once knew while the winged goddess fairy floated, face down dead in the swamp.

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Such loss, what did we slip into, what did we fight? Blurry my sight, times that past, unmet love. Looking out the window, waiting for you. Fear, the sound of engines, slamming doors, beer on his breath. Where can I find what was taken, the loss I can’t fathom or hold much to matter. My little dog, protector of fortress, he’s far away now, dead and gone, underneath. Where I run hiding, back in the summer, what does it feel like to be you, ghost who’s dying? Floating on your ceiling, watching the sinking of tides, blood in the tube, a brother or another, a father or a demon’s night. Terror, grief struck me, alone on all four sides, tears down the window, looking for you in the rain, violent rock. Drunk on the jungle, putting acid on nightmares, killer that made me, how deep is your grave? It wouldn’t matter that you went without me since monsters follow us all back home sooner, sooner than we know where we live. I lost you in the summer to a blue bag and morphine. Submarine, deep blue memories of you submerged and without any more air, I can’t breath you, I can’t hear you anymore either. Guns and knives and army jackets, I didn’t matter much in the mix, who can’t give what they’ve taken, never felt love before. Come back, I remember your eyes, blue sea smile. Me, forever your tomb. I wouldn’t be alive, I wouldn’t be in pain, I wouldn’t love the winter, I wouldn’t hear the dead, if it wasn’t for you. Boy blue, this life’s for you, never two, with or without you. I’m caught in the rumble, quicksand in the jungle, sick to my stomach, heart gone awry. I couldn’t ever tell you the end of my story, goodbye for now drifting pictures of sea, land of the sun who stole him from me. My father who made sharks come alive on the solstice, summer light and that’s what I saw, Him ablaze on a black horse into the white of us all…

Sharada Devi

THE WHITE HORSE part 2

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Redemption, a pile of your old clothes. What do I care, bible in ashes. Never forgotten, the words she didn’t say, line inside of line, concave I’ve fallen, for you. Mirror upon mirror, witch, I won’t look, what you’ve done, said that was silent but hurtful. I admit I am without a savior, staff in hand, magical under my lord, hungry like an animal, wild and fruitful. If there was a private world we could go just to show you my ritual, I would bend you and spank you, child of my horn. Wrathful, stupid little whiner, redemption isn’t clothed, out in the open, naked everywhere. Red walls pulsing, pushing stars into you. It’s not what I’d call a sky, more like a shakedown, something lands on my foot, bareback, bent baby rider. Tied to the bed, unmade, dirty blankets, nobody goes underneath but you. Why did you have to say that? Again, back again for more of my shadow mounting? Redemption, losing yourself. I’ve lost someone big. Give me back my little pain, I knew you better then. Bruises, blindfolded, mark of the beast. Belt, butt, beautiful sorry, three sixes. She had golden skin with drops of red inside her eyes, the sun went down. She had the softest scars with razor blades inside her tongue, the morning came. I want you back. Down so low, so far inside, baby lamb in the dungeon. Tie her up, tie him to me. Eight after eight, listless, I’m suffering to feel life. I would do almost anything to break her, ride her, up inside of the swell, the dark plundered bottom, almost dead to the touch. Kissing cold corpses, slither inside, I wanted you to see what it takes to love lovers, lovers who mutilate one another out of sheer hunger for self. Didn’t I warn you, didn’t I say, this won’t go your way. Both my heart and my stone, you hit like a girl. She’s ripe on the root, pretending she’s bowing. Down, dying down the wind in my lungs. Breathless, blow. I told you there is another word for love, what we make, nobody can say it out loud, taking the beating, lamb meat. Redemption, I make perfect sense when you’re with me, slipping me into something besides what I’ve worn. Could I be who I can’t see, could you become a knotted hole, could I crawl hand and knee, just to be free into your casket filled with fresh flowers. She looks so beautiful with make up on, pink lips, red dress, no underwear, it doesn’t matter, he never touched me, you took the bait. I don’t need to keep using the word because you know exactly what I mean, where this goes, and whose name you cry in your sleep…dreamer, redeemer, my self inside of you.

Save me.

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The next thing I remember is warm breath on my face and as I opened my eyes the white horse was nudging me to wake up as if someone were coming. I wasn’t sure where I was or even who I was, there was a strange glow in the air, a reddish gold shimmer. There was the sound of rushing water somewhere in the distance and I could smell fire mixed with the smell of exotic flowers or expensive perfume like the oil my grandmother kept wrapped up next to her bed that she would put on every year for her birthday. I was so worried my grandma would be looking for me, I never should have run so far away from the cabin. Now I was here, in a place inside of the earth with a white horse and the sound of bells moving closer. The air was moist and the black rock ground I lay upon was shiny and smooth with flecks of orange and green. You know this was such a long time ago and although I remember it like it was yesterday, I know it must just sound like make believe. I’m not sure how much to describe to you to help you to see that this other world down below was like a vivid dream, so beautifully colored and enchanting I could barely open my eyes. I know you’re thinking this might be hell where the devil lives, but it didn’t seem like the way I’d always heard hell described, and so I think it was another place, a place where mystical white horses come from and jewels cover the floor of the inner earth. I heard the bells grow louder behind me so I shook my head to see if I might wake up, as if this could possibly be only a dream. That happened to me once before, right after my mother died I dreamed I was a mouse and I was running from a big black bird and at the last minute, right before it’s claws snatched me, I saw the big black bird had my mother’s eyes, who said in my mother’s voice as it swooped down with talons dangling, “sweet mouse,” and although I was only a dream mouse and my mother, a hungry dream bird, I shook my head with all my might to break my sleep, and it worked because suddenly I was awake in my bed, breathing heavily and relieved my mother didn’t eat me. I have these dreams sometimes and I can’t always remember which life is real, the life in my dream or the one with my grandma. This time it seemed real, the head shaking didn’t change a thing. I sat there stunned realizing I was on the edge of a precipice overlooking a place you could never imagine unless you were there yourself. I will try to describe to you what I saw and I hope you believe me, after all this is the story of how I met the white horse and she comes from here, this world below mine. This world that would come to be known as the underworld of Sol. They say it’s because he wears the dark sun in his heart but more later about him, he takes a little getting used to…

I stood looking down upon a place that seemed to be covered in jewels of every color and shape. There was a river that wound itself through the valley below that sparkled and bubbled like the silvery water itself was alive. The big rocks, the mountains that this land was nestled within, appeared as crystals, almost transparent and yet pinkish and violet at the tips. The trees that lined the river were brimming with giant bright flowers and probably sweet fruits. I was up on the edge of a cliff looking down so my description may be a bit muddled at this point, but once we get down inside pretty soon, I’ll be able to vividly show you my sight. Almost right in front of me suspended in the air were beautiful slender women who had wings and no legs, more like the tail of a serpent. They were twirling with rainbow colored ribbons and their wings were a powdery blue white, very soft looking like feathery clouds on a spring day. These women were not large at all, they looked very light, frail and ethereal and every one of them had a emerald shaped like a diamond in the center of their forehead. They had long flowing hair, some whitish golden and others dark and bluish like a raven. Besides the ribbons wrapped around their bodies that swirled through the air as they danced, they were naked. Their skin was lustrous and pale white. I could hear them singing as they spun in the sky over the enchanted underworld, soft sounds like I had always imagined angels in heaven would make but just a little more haunting, almost sad like they were yearning or searching for lost love. I became spellbound by their voices and their beautiful swaying bodies streaming gracefully near me almost close enough to touch. I could hear the murmur of their wings, I could see the emerald like a beam drawing looping shapes on the ground below. It may be infinity but I don’t know, back then we didn’t have a symbol for forever. That’s what my grandma always said, “There is no symbol for forever, there is only the sound of right now, your heart beating child.” Their hypnotic swaying had me completely spellbound until I was startled by the sound of a clashing bell in my face, “You shouldn’t be here, you were supposed to be taken to the loom.” I had no idea what I was looking at, it seemed to be an upright snake, it’s body open wide and thick at the top and growing more narrow towards the bottom, balancing on it’s tail’s end curled under. This snake was much taller than I was, at least seven feet tall and I knew it was a male by the way he looked at me. His eyes were like diamonds opening out of slits with a cross in the center, silver diamonds with a red cross. His body was greenish, wet looking and shimmering like a fish. The subtle pattern on his skin was spotted with gold and purple. He wore a dark blue cape and he had a black line going from the top of his head to between his eyes. His voice was melodic, low and deep, his eyes were attractive to me somehow, like just by looking at him we could go inside each other. I was only seventeen, I never had a boyfriend yet because I was tall and spooky. But I could tell this creature knew something about me that made me feel special inside and I’m not quite sure why. “You should have taken her to the loom.” He spoke to the white horse and it seemed like she understood him. “Never mind, I’ll take her myself, follow me.” He shrugged, bell in his webbed hand, and turned away expecting me to follow him. I was afraid and looked at the white horse, “Ceres,” I thought, “Don’t leave me alone.” She looked at me and I knew she heard me. “Please go, you’ll be fine. I am Ceres.” How did I know her name? I was confused, bewildered and feeling very shaky. “You will be fine, just go. I’ll see you soon.” How did she put these words in my head? I know my mother had telepathy which means you can talk in the silence. Maybe I am like my mother, but I’ll never know because she’s a black bird now… “Alright, I’ll go, are you sure it will be safe? Where am I?” I had been too shaken up to even ask where we were. “Yes, safe. You are home, princess.” I had no time to even look at her before the bell rang and he yelled, “Come girl!” And so off I went, terrified and yet slightly attracted to the gruff, majestic snake figure who led me. I would never tell him this of course, then, just as I realized he could probably read minds too, he turned and looked piercingly over his shoulder at me and a tingling warmth spread over my entire body.

We walked for a long time on the edge of the precipice about half of the circle until we came to a rock staircase carved in the cliff and we began descending for what seemed like hours until we came to a entrance inside the cliff wall. There was a tunnel it seemed going inward, downward spiraling, deeper into the cavern of the underworld and now I was truly afraid. At the entrance there were snakes, ordinary looking black snakes weaving and hissing back and forth across the entrance as if to threaten those approaching. There was a small draw bridge that went over rushing water. Inside the water were black fish swimming in circles, back and forth. I heard a female voice inside the sound of the rushing water say, “What is the word?” “Nix” said the serpent who led me, and the draw bridge lowered as we entered the tunnel.

At this point all I could do was think of my grandma and how worried she must be, she is very weak and it’s all because of me. I’m always running off into the forest and comparing myself to wild creatures. I practiced for months barking like a wild dog. One day I watched a garden snake for hours slithering and hissing and so I practiced slithering and hissing through the field on my bare stomach. I would like to see what snakes see and hear what dogs hear. I think I am probably best though at being a cat. My cats believe every purr I make and I can even clean my face with the back of my hand, licking it and rubbing it across my cheek just like they do. I’ve never had friends, nobody likes me because I’m a tall, spooky, quiet witch and we live in an old, rundown cabin surrounded by wolves. At night the bats circle our cabin and sometimes when it’s hot they come through my open window and hang from my ceiling. I wish I was a bat, if I were I would not be afraid at all in this tunnel, I would be perfectly at home. How could this be my home? I miss my grandma and I don’t know how long she’ll survive without me. Only my grandma knows that I’m wild at heart and I can climb trees faster than any squirrel. Only my grandma knows me and she loves wild animals. I wish I was a bat right now…”You! Pay attention, keep up!” The tall snake figure was far ahead of me moving quickly. He seemed to be floating with the tip of his tail not really even touching the ground. Finally, after walking so deep into the tunnel that the once pinkish glow emanating from the rock walls turned to an ominous deep red radiation, out of sheer panic, I mustered up the courage to ask, “Where are we going?” “To the loom” he said. “Why? What’s a loom?” I asked. “You’ve been summoned. No more questions. Keep up.” So having no choice, I quietly obeyed, strangely seduced by his abrupt, magnetic countenance. I followed the upright snake secretly praying inwardly to my grandma, the mother of God, because that’s what her name means and my grandma doesn’t lie about anything. I prayed to my grandma that she shouldn’t worry and that I’d be back home soon. Did I tell you already that my name means God’s lamb? I think that’s peculiar because I never once tried to be a lamb and I don’t even know God. Many regrets came to mind the deeper we went, the regret of never saying I love you out loud, the regret of taking more food than I could eat, the regret about lying and saying I wasn’t a witch because I was ashamed. It seemed to late to change anything now and I was overtaken by fear and questions, fear of being smothered in snakes, why my father only hit my mother and never hit me. Fear of being buried alive or burned on the stake, why I couldn’t be prettier and more friendly. And in the midst of my thoughts I had the eeriest feeling that the tunnel walls themselves were listening to me as if they had an intelligence all their own just like the water beneath the draw bridge did. I could almost hear the deep red glow saying, “Soon all will be understood.”

Sharada Devi

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THE WHITE HORSE part 1

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One time, a few hundred years ago I lived in poverty and I had golden hair, I lived with my grandmother who was too weak to move and we had three cats that never went outside and a mule with one leg. The mule lost his legs to a pack of wolves and we were grateful for the sacrifice. Witches and their offspring always pay a price for helping women to give birth and the leg of a mule really wasn’t too much to ask. I never went to school because we were poor, but I wasn’t stupid. All the girls would tease me because I was tall and spooky- due to my eyes being so bright and so golden- yes, my eyes and my hair were almost the same color- and also due to my grandma and her reputation for naming spiders and feeding homeless cats before she got too weak to move. They say she was cursed, cursed for either cursing so many or for lifting the curses off of so many, either way she was weak and that’s what made me the most sad. The only two boys I knew didn’t like me because I beat them at their own games plus I wouldn’t tell them my middle name because nobody knew it but me and my grandma and I’d like to keep it that way. I would tell you maybe if I thought you could be trusted but I learned my lesson on trusting people who don’t play with witches and since I don’t know what side you’re on I’d rather keep it to myself. My mother was burned alive on the stake for tempting the devil and it wasn’t true but nobody trusts a woman whose unfaithful because her husband beats her and because she’d been accused of flying through the skies at dawn which I can’t say is true or not. I know my mother was powerful because every time I mention her my grandma goes, “Shhh, we don’t want the birds to hear her name.” I don’t really know what that means accept that maybe she’s with the birds or maybe she killed a bird to become one- witches can do that you know and times were hard and my mother always said she would have rather been a raven than a woman and I remember that on the day those men burned her she was very quiet and when I saw her hanging there she looked as if she’d already gone far far away into the trees just watching her body go up in flames with the rest of the cawing black birds. It was early winter and the trees were barren with crooked branches just dotted with shiny round black bodies of birds almost as a way to mock the coming of death once again who would cover us all and make us forget everything we’d left underneath the snow…and I was just a girl, an uneducated girl who didn’t talk much but who listened and so those who barely knew me called me stupid and those who really knew me called me wise. They say I was just like my mother in that her hair was long thick and wild but her hair was red and my hair is golden and they say my eyes pierce the dark like a cat the same as my mother but her eyes were the color of emeralds and my eyes are the color of wet hay. I ride a horse sometimes I found in a field way outside the forest that surrounds our cabin. The horse is tame and lets me get on, she’s tall, pure white and very unruly but I named her Ceres and I think she likes it. I can talk to animals you know but I do it secretly because it could get me into trouble- there are certain signs of a witch and if you are one, bad things can happen- they can kill you like they killed my mother- and even though we are peaceful the normal people are afraid. We never did anything to be who we are, it just happened this way. And I lived a long time ago anyway, I’m sure things are much different in your world today. My grandmother is weak and I think I told you that nobody really knows why but what I didn’t tell you is that I do actually know why but since everyone who doesn’t really know me, which is mostly everyone, thinks I’m stupid, they didn’t even ask. The doctors are afraid to touch her because they say she stings and even though it’s a lie I think the real reason is that they’re afraid she can read their mind and they’ve got devils inside of them. I have a power that when I look at someone before I even see the color of their eyes, I see their devils- I used to be afraid, but now I just don’t look. It’s not wise to look at the devil, he changes shapes and can get inside of almost anyone. Did I tell you where my horse came from? Her name is Ceres.

It’s a long story but you’re bound to find out eventually so I’ll tell you now because it has a lot to do with this story of what happened to me to change my life forever. One day I ran as far back as the eyes could see because I wanted to find out where the wind was going, everyone dies and I didn’t want to be like that, I wanted to be invisible and howl forever without my cumbersome body to stop me or make me hungry, regretful or afraid, I’d decided that was the reason for everyone’s poison, the things they let themselves believe and the things they eat deep inside their heart. My grandmother told me a long time ago that my heart has a mouth and so it’s good that I’m quiet, because it’s safer that way and no flies can get it, not the flies you might be thinking that live around the chickens or dogs but the big flies that bite and seem to be unkillable no matter how much you swat at them. My grandma said she’d been bit a lot and that I was a wise girl for being so quiet. And so one day I went chasing the wind because I had nowhere else to go. The boys and girls said I played with dirty frogs and I was covered in warts like all witches are and so I wanted to disappear forever like my mother, into the trees howling as the wind while she sat as the raven watching me. Birds can see the wind in case you didn’t know, they see the wind like we see the roads we walk on. And so I ran and ran after the wind and it was getting dark but not dark yet, I knew I’d gone too far and my grandmother would be worried but I think I was getting somewhere and I had to try and so I ran for hours so deep into the dense forest that I forgot myself entirely and thought that I had possibly already became the wind, I howled and moved as fast as the clouds in the sky, I was weightless and my body seemed to disappear so that I could run through trees and not get stuck in their branches, so that the growling of wolves in the distance didn’t scare me and so that I never got hungry or thought of sad things. After a long time the trees suddenly ended and there was this open field just sitting there like a circle filled with yellow and pink flowers in the middle of the forest. I thought I might be dreaming and so I checked my body for evidence that I was still me. I could say that I was but I seemed less solid and I felt transparent like the wings on butterflies and I think it was starting to work, I was becoming the wind that called through the trees and said, “she’s here come just a little farther…” I listened to things like the wind and birds and I followed signs like little stones shaped like arrows. There wasn’t any other way to remember my mother the raven other than to do the things she’d done and I remember her casting stones and asking birds which way to go. I remember everything and sometimes it just feels like too much. And so when I saw the field of flowers that opened from out of the dark forest I knew deep inside that I’d found something very important inside of myself and as I stood there in wonder I knew that this was more than a dream, this was another place, a place untouched by fearful men and their wives, a place where the only sound was me howling and swirling beneath the golden rays of a setting sun that made the flowers look like a rainbow of fire. I wasn’t afraid of the coming darkness, as a matter of fact I was
enlivened by the quiet sounds of snakes stirring subtly beneath my feet, way inside the earth. The earth that led me here and fed snakes when the sun finally died everyday. I wasn’t going to die like the sun, I was going to watch with the hidden eyes of a stilled night wind what goes on in the dark world of flowers that nobody ever stays long enough to see. And this place was unknown by all except me. You could only get here on the wind not by remembering the way. I was thinking that if my heart was a place, it would look like this and just as everything seemed to blur in the twilight so that I could barely even see my hands I saw movement from the far end of the flower field and a large white horse that seemed to still be lit by the sky walked gracefully towards the center and I knew that she was calling me there. And so I began slowly walking toward this mystical creature as if I’d known along we were destined to meet.

As I walked towards her there was a static in in the air, like a crackling electricity that startled me and yet reminded me of something I cannot describe. When I finally got close enough to touch her as we both stood in the center of the field with the dim silvery shadow of dusk all around us, she seemed to light up the place where we stood like the warm candle inside of my grandma’s room. And although I’d meant to introduce myself or politely say hello, all I could do, as if possessed by some memory is rest my cheek on her long white mane and inhale the intoxicating fragrance she emitted. She smelled like the flowers that surrounded us, a type of smell that seems to be beyond anything my nose could understand but that used this fragrance to carry me into a dimension that defies any description. I could say she smelled like I remembered my mother but that wouldn’t really be enough to describe the vastness of the sweetness that engulfed me in her soft mane, my cheek becoming the portal to a feeling of mystical love I had never imagined and being a witch you’d think I know more but standing there touching her, I knew nothing, I remembered nothing in words only feelings. A mother who loves you more than the whole world perhaps? Who pours flowers into your quiet heart and shows you the kingdom within, the kingdom that you can only find by becoming the wind and running far far away from the world of men who make you remember and think of yourself in ways that don’t feel good but only remind you of the devils that they planted in their fields. Besides this, I have no words to say how beautiful she was. I was lost in the enchantment of the sound of her breathing as my face lay nuzzled in the mane of this large white animal god that glowed in the dark, a divine creature from somewhere else, shaped like a horse that called me in the wind and brought me as the sun was dying into a flaming field of pink and yellow flowers, cool and breezy, all alone and filled with the night breath of her primal light. I felt like I could be the rainbow flowers that now filled the sky that was gone, my heart that was listening in this place with only the magic of her making noises as soft as her mane, the four legged one who brought me here, the wild white horse who seemed holier than any god I could imagine.

And I use the word god to say how I felt about her but I never had any understanding of god other than my grandmother telling me one day when I asked about god that her name means the mother of god and my name means I am god’s lamb. I don’t really think of myself as a lamb though but more like a lonely bird who listens. I can definitely see my grandma as being the mother of god since she knows everything.
And my grandma also told me that if you know god’s mother you don’t need to ever know anyone else including god and so I believed her and forgot about who or where god might be because I knew my grandma and she was everything to me.

I would like to say something definite about the next part of this story, how when I lifted my cheek from her mane I understood what it meant, but I didn’t. I felt the warmth of tears streaming down my face but I didn’t feel my face itself. l felt my body but I knew it wasn’t there. There was only her and her large dark eyes staring into me until I felt like I was swimming. And what happened next you will probably not believe but it’s true and I’ve never told anyone but you until right now…

as she was staring into my eyes there was what sounded like a loud crash behind us in the trees at the edge of the field of flowers, a crash like a huge tree might have fallen and rustling like the sound of small animals trying to escape then suddenly there was the sound of rushing water and although there was a gentle river just near the edge of the entrance to the field this sound more like a raging force of rapid waters and I became very disoriented. I’m not sure what happened but I seemed to be shrinking or peeling away from my body somehow. There was this loud crash then the breaking waters almost if a dam had broken and then there was me slowly fading and my mind grew very light as if I couldn’t hold onto a thought or even myself and so I bent my head down and started to move my fingers as I looked at my trembling hands as a sort of way to stay with my body that seemed to be growing more transparent and like it was bending and shimmering to the sound of something inaudible that was tearing me apart or eating me alive somehow but it didn’t hurt, it just seemed like I was becoming hollow, and I could hear myself trying to think the way an echo sounds long after you’ve grown silent. The waters continued to roar and then I heard splashing and a high pitched humming. The humming seemed to move closer and since it had grown dark I dare not turn my head to look at what was approaching. There was rustling and more splashing and a humming so loud it took over even my thoughts or the terror of my dematerializing body. Then I felt breath, hot breath on my neck but I did not turn around, something touched my shoulder and I did not turn around and then to my left a silvery trail of purplish light began to form a procession around me and the white horse. A circling path through the dark field of flowers of purplish light humming and slithering perfectly in line. I could see there were many long tubular bodies, like snakes with shimmering skins of deep blue and deep green. Some of them had diamond shaped patterns and some had patterns that looked like chains or spots linked together and though I could barely see in the dark, the purplish light radiating from them revealed that there were many of them forming this circle. I could see the tip of deep red pronged tongues and eyes as bright as jewels. They circled and circled and the humming never stopped. The white horse stood peacefully next to me as if she had been expecting them all along. Then after what seemed like hours but was probably only minutes I heard the sound of something falling beneath the ground I stood upon inside the circle that the snakes had formed and the white horse kneeled and I knew to get on and the next thing I remember is the ground opening like a huge mouth and swallowing us and we flew down down down the throat of this earth. I felt nothing, no body no thought no fear I only felt the white horse beneath me carrying me into the stomach of the earth. I had thought the earth was solid and that so was I. I know I came from a family of witches but this sort of thing was not common and yet somehow I knew where I was going, who I was and what would happen but it wasn’t a knowing based on any facts or information it was just a comfort or ease within the terror of this downward journey that seemed so natural somehow until finally we landed with a heavy thump and I fell off the horse.

“Where is she?!” a thunderous voice boomed and at the sound of that voice I collapsed and everything went black.

Sharada Devi

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prelude to the white horse

Prelude to where I’ve been, hundreds of years in the making. Nothing is forgotten, never lost, I found you drawing suns on paper in your room, you don’t know why…flashback, I love you always in every new body moving down to the center of me…

rip me open, she lays in the sun, an innocent snake, who is a girl just being herself. No birds attached, no weapons worn, bewitched, only my hot body becoming what it touches. Divinity, rock, sunlight, magic hands, you, well worn shoes, no need to be formal. I want out of the bag precious human. Don’t go, wormhole, missing in action. Shed everything, even leave her behind, transformation asunder, slip out of the skin you wear just for me, a portal too small, ripping open the fish, plucking the bird, lying here softly wondering, how to get inside the human cell, outside these fortress walls, nothing meant what it was before you, mistress of illusion, naked girl dancing in a hue of blue flowers. Hexed by the skull, spells rise and we meet again. Warm, I found you my potion of light, take me there, steeping anywhere, holding the seance for another. Gutted so deeply, ghost limbs still entwined, gils breathing under water, needing out of the flesh, drinking pints of blood just to stay afloat in your sea, your sea without me. This web, triangle of tangled arms, you become what you are starfire, awkward body, anger wrathful sexy killer, your sword, my way out of this tunnel, me, cut me out of here, who could have the sun and swallow it too, blackened, charred, cooking pot. You, this isn’t about holding on to keep our old bones from snapping like twigs, or the fading person, a picture we held when were still two, lonely this darkness, I don’t know what to do, my hidden love stirs for you, our secret smoke shines, back into circling suns, central throbbing, undressing the blessing, food for god, this skin is too heavy for one, she’s waiting to be, who she left, naked good for nothing, all her light spun, a web around you, long and lean, forgetting everything, in between what else, spindly legs ….letters, tumbleweeds, desert seeds, water oasis and a list of reasons that goes on and on…in the middle of almost every night I hear you telling me things, things you won’t say written down and I know, cold shoulder, the problem with rain. Acid. Rejection. Brimming over her beauty, brooding what’s over, thoughts of snakes wearing white satin, moving all the silky parts, slick attraction, prayers at sunset, beautiful things die too. I love you has to raise hell all night, or else I don’t believe, winding in flames of both taboo places, cool in the morning I hear what you’re saying, the river serpent next to me, looking for you, left as pure light, remains after the embers… steam, hot water between us risen to skies…I wrote about a white horse and I want you to have this, everything about where to go next…under me, inside, romantic eyes, spiral in a shell, candles melting, cracking earth open, he’s waiting, I know who you are, my other world has risen with the one you thought died, not yet crying blue lunar lover, over me, at the center of circles you send, crossing the dots of without me, come of course to me…I’ll bury you under my halo below me…round, the snake swallows its tail to be whole, telling zero after triple zero, it’s time. Storm clouds are coming, here, mother maker, dark goddess taker, loud blue thunder, oral fixation, diamonds making a threat of red stars, dripping jewels, get under my water, harvest my reaper, stainless sinner, I gave her my trident as a prelude to hisses, upside down kisses, as high as I hold the snake open, you’re with me…around my neck, you, three times three, war is nothing without you, voided we, the sacred who slither. White horse, sent for me, in the midst of obscuring, summoned, my spacious lord, sliding door, ceiling mirror, dungeon bright, at last you came, release the snake, the ancient mystery girl…

THE WHITE HORSE.

prelude to what comes next,
Sharada Devi

the skinless yoga of you

UFO. Alien abduction, seduction…yoga baby, send his love to me…

Bhagavan Das says I was impregnated by an ET in Crestone, Colorado. Not recently, this was a few years back, but I think he’s right. They came to take the baby, hybrid, which is fine, I never wanted kids anyway. They’ve been taking me up, molesting me since I was a baby. I’m used to their white translucent faces, the way they don’t talk or smile -ever- they put words in your head and feelings inside you so that you know where you stand. Before I leave, they always erase me, but I remember little bits and pieces of him, I’m crazy because of it, in case you always wondered what was not so right about me, I’m kind of all wrong, so wrong I know everything, and as a matter of fact, my supernatural powers come from my intercourse with the aliens. It’s cool, they’re neat and spidery strange, I’ve known them so long, it all seems like home. OM, that’s how I hear them coming. So I’ve been trying to cover it all up, playing along, doing the earthling yoga thing, what else? Actually I’ve been doing “yoga” since I was twenty. I’m also a yoga teacher in case you didn’t know. I left that behind because I hate, yes hate, yoga studios. I keep trying to talk myself into teaching a class to be helpful to others but the idea of being a part of that two faced humanoid world, smiling, saying hi, or even worse, namaste, makes me cringe beyond repair. I despise the spiritual materialism world, I would much rather be with a car mechanic or a guy changing tires…even a weight lifter at golds gym. I feel kind of bad, torn, the yoga helps, but I cannot fake anything, it’s too hard to pretend for these sweet, shadow cloned people. Touch your toes, feel the sensual gratification only flexibility can bring…it really does disgust me, the mockery, and it’s not anyone’s fault but mine, no judgement only a display of my extraterrestrial wisdom. I’m just off the earth clock, waiting for the alien undertow, which, while psychically horrifying, is something far more mystical than downward facing dog with an OM sign on my ass…Om for you, I offer the breach from this outer space birth, out of this world for sure and it’s odd…I started writing because they put words in my head, back and forth hearing the messages, in a stream of invisible nearly alien me, by association of course, words jump between my fingers, keyboard groans, you again? Yes, and I’ve got a wild message for my hybrid baby lover who lives inside these words and out of this world. My other world where I keep you whole, me and you, piece by piece, sun and moon, no one knocking, home a lock of witchcraft hair, I’m always waiting for my alien other…half of me, timeless me, I wore a claw, peaking beneath the heart of you, tendrils, oh my home before, the faithless other. Broken shell, gone. They say only the lonely can know me, inside of us both she conspires. I hear you climbing down me, no wings only branches. UFO, I missed you, didn’t know you, felt nothing but sparks. Times passes while you think of me, all the ways of getting high, I am a drug feeding asylum, a perched up paradise for towers like you. Without a second thought, swoop upon the little scurrying madness, he thinks of me, everyday while he watches her fly, over him, me the one carrying a sharp object. Alien, I could feed you, you know, open arms like a canopy, blanket me, it’s always warm beneath secrets. I’ve hidden from you, sparkling midnight, from afar all would seem peaceful. Me on the rim of a broken you, open, and you on the branch forgetting it’s me. Funny, before I thought time could turn us into something else more lucid than this, I would inhale. You, clearly the one who broke the spell open, exhale inside of me, newborn. UFO, I hear the world, down below, above your silent eyes spreading. Inside where it happens, caverns seeping at night, bright beam of my soul through the ocean floor, a craft without walls, spread open to blue heavy space. If stars could tell secrets, if I could move oceans, if every touch grew wings that would let us fly on forever, if you only knew that I can, actually have you, all in black, you wearing my secrets. I wore a beak, you wore a sickle, I wore a claw, you wore a dark mask. Over your face, hiding me behind you, the sacrificial body of moonlight, the soft sweeping lamb. Alien, It doesn’t get any colder than this, you know you love me, there is nothing left but goodbye. Gasping, tearing, climbing down, flapping, ripping, covering every speck of light skin, I am not a beast any more than you are a white figure shrouded in black, tall with no face. Movement, stars a rapid flutter, sequence, withheld, my beloved tunnel of eyes. Softly, cuddling the one at the bottom who fell, broke everything you said…promise me the hot breath of no more me…you said everything counts and seconds seem like minutes when we’re down and out, inside the wound of the other. Me. Yes, he hurt me and I grovel without a home, besides his warm shadow, I have nowhere to go. UFO I hid from you words in these seeds, love dug our graves into the center of the earth, where the first fire formed and we knew we were old flames, yes I remember the haunting of flesh. ‘Tis always the ring seamlessly taking another lover as if the last didn’t count, of course I remember you, a cloud covering me lightless, weightless, only gold. Carrying a concealed weapon, danger takes a turn and moves through the door, leaving the weaving up to me, who could kill the already dead, I, the magical thread, could love you as much as that…wave after wave of me. Spoken as one who kneels at your feet, you see my vessel, worship is surrendering us both to the white sky, where only black is seen as then, unclothed and summoned, as something else where someone else waits, for me. But it’s only you, but I hold you in my pocket, but I know how much you’re worth…as a nothing grinding slowly away at the force. Alien, my treasure in your chest, OM smells like fire and jasmine, blue remains, opal, empty, sounds of your red heart in my ear, my testimony we’re still here, alive on the floor of this shapeless desert house, naked dreamer don’t sell me again…

my love, yes the action, is you spread over me, riches, I was blind and now I see, divine epiphany. Pleasure dome, whip across my back, needles in a jar. Hopeless home, yes the words, loving me away, taking everything I held as you, open arms, the sorrow of loss, betrayal, love struck, lightening the christ load, other heavenly body, these corpses I have many, eaten alive by me myself, don’t you wish I would, touch me, not another word out of you, backlash, back drop, baby doll sweetheart, shoeless. I mean it all as if I’ve snapped, it’s too much to notice why or how, eye contact, skin on skin, only in the ethers, astral kisses, transmigration of the soul. Lost in me, only home as Om, the erotic mind warp, the spreading of sensual germs, sweat, salt and tears, eventually we all must go into bliss, tongue tied or not, I taste every smear of you. UFO, this is about doing the right thing, the fight thing, the bodies toppling down with a crash, high on love, my tender drug, you know I’m not cheap or easy. Poetry gets the heart of me stirring…looking for you in every way this could go, on and on until, timber, I’m over you in a flash. Snapshot, perfect alignment. She meant everything to him in a locket around my neck, nothing left but treading swamp waters blessed with my imagination, you aren’t here, I’m not anywhere. Broken shells who hear each other, fill me with enough. Alien, bend me into…

the skinless yoga of you.
Sharada Devi