Tag: witchcraft

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conjunct saturn

This piece is new and is part of a book that I’m working on, called one pass by. The theme is one trip of the Moon through the lunar cycle.

The Moon is the protagonist of each poem, speaking directly to the reader or just thinking out loud. These are musings about the moods and experiences that come up each month, as Luna aspects the other planetary bodies in our solar system.

Our moon travels around the entire ecliptic (faster than any of the other, traditional planets) in roughly 29 days. That means She regularly conjoins (meets) all the other Planets, as well as forming what astrology calls aspects with them, such as sextile, square, trine and opposition.

Each of these angles prompts a different type of energy. Making sense of how these aspects affects us is a big part of what serious astrologers do.

In astrology, the word planet comes from the Greek, meaning “wanderer”. So yes, the Sun (Sol) and the Moon (Luna) are each a proper Planet (capitalized P for respect), even though they are not planets, in the astronomical sense.

In mythology, each of the Planets are ascribed as being the same energy or archetype of a particular God or Goddess. Our versions are named after the Roman Deities and correspond quite closely to their Greek counterparts.

In essence, these poems are the Goddess Luna, on her usual, monthly travels around Earth and Sol, the Sun. She’s talking about Her experiences with each of them, telling us the story of what can usually be expected, when She bumps into the other Gods in some way.

Each piece is written in lowercase, including the proper names, such as Saturn and Jupiter. This is a stylistic choice and nothing else. I probably read too much e.e. cummings and I’m just plain weird like that.

People who understand basic astrology will probably get a deeper meaning of each piece but they written simply enough that people with no astrological background can still get the gist of what’s happening and follow the stories.

The Moon is representative of many things and the easiest of these to grasp right away is emotions. Where the Moon is and how She is interacting with the other bodies out there determines a huge amount of what wee feel, collectively and individually.

This piece is about when Luna occupies the same bit of space as the Planet Saturn, who is the Lord of Time, restriction, boundaries, limitations, duty, architecture, crops (to some degree), geology, slavery and prisons. He also rules over contracts and institutions, especially in their more complex, bureaucratic and byzantine forms.

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And now, I give you…

conjunct saturn

one of my least favorite bits
and each of us admits
jaws clench and grind
dutifully, as we try

to respect the old man;
but it crumbles, our plan
when near him, you find
you want to curl up in a ball and cry

i try hard to explain
in a language, most plain
my thoughts and feelings
and my needs, most dear

from his bed, every time,
of gravel, dirt and lime,
grumbles that these dealings
he just doesn’t care to hear

the only thing that i can say
of our meetings that’s okay
is that beside him, i discover
i seem to have the uncanny knack

for putting self into order,
defining clearly the border
between this, that and the other;
and it helps me to pick up the slack

but it’s tiresome work
for he’s a bit of a jerk
to be honest, he’s no fun
and no one really likes him

but as guardian, it’s clear
he inspires much fear,
so much so, that no one
ever dare strike him

into whatever room
floats our cloud of gloom,
they sit up straight and quick
and all take a somber notice

the vibe becomes serious
no drunk smiles, delirious
like jesus hitting you with a stick
or buddha, with a lead-filled lotus

folks get down and back to working
time for labor, not lurking
and he’s carefully checking
everyone’s to-do, check lists

if they’ve missed a thing or two,
as we all often do,
their rear ends, he’s wrecking;
his motivation-boot, it assists

my heavy heart hurts
at each weight he asserts;
the sad details he shows me
of the most dreary, depressing issues

though i attempt to retreat,
our little dates aren’t complete
until he calls me a baby and throws me
a box of camel-hair tissues

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juggernaut

far on down, the road twists and turns

lightning strikes and hellfire burns

through thick smoke in that darkened place

obscuring the troubled lines of your face

amidst the fear and fading of the light

shells of the dead rise in the night

ruled by Saturn, with poison mind

the blind falling in, behind other blind

war is the way and the order of things

Mars and all those bloody gifts he brings

stumble but once, never to rise

sour wings of death cover your eyes

too great a thing, too great a foe

at the end of your hubris, hell and woe

abundance of darkness, absence of light

swallowed and chewed in eternal night

Magus

(Kevin Trent Boswell)

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I AM; SHE AM; WE AM

I am Love

And the power of the Sword

I am the softly spoken Word

She, receiver of the fruit

Speaks of Nothing, yet all,

Has she heard

I am the Way,

the Truth and

the bringer of Light

I am not the Lamb

I am, instead,

The stillness of Night

I am the lover

I bear the yoke of Strength

My children shall draw in, behind

I am of Her,

At any length

She shall be strong in her mind

I shall guide when I may,

Gently to say,

Draw towards the paths of

Light, Truth

I will embrace her,

She, the secret practitioner,

Falling in the spiral

Of joyous youth

She is Love

And the power of Earth

Magus

(Kevin Trent Boswell)

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conjunct neptune

The new book, Chaos Comes Apart is finished!

I’m exceedingly pleased with it and very proud to say that soon, a few days, it will be available for purchase on Amazon.

If you become a supporter of my Patreon page, with the next week, you’ll get a free .pdf copy of the book, regardless of which support tier you choose.

Chaos Comes Apart is a brand new work, most of which has NOT already been presented here. There are a couple of pieces that are already here but not many.

However, I did end up needing to expand it a little, from its original length of 75 pages, up to over a hundred. It was something about the guidelines for the spine size, for printing. Mercury retro hangups, as I see it. But that just means that you get even more for your money.

So, I also included in the final version, several older pieces, most of which had never been published, a few that had. So, it keeps with the theme of establishing patterns… and breaking them.

I’m also quite happy to announce that I have stumbled into the inspiration for the next book, as well!

The newest book is called “one pass by” and the theme is the interactions of the Moon, with each of the other Planets, as She cycles through the zodiac, each month.

You don’t need to know anything about astrology in order to enjoy the pieces, they’re standalone works of poetry.

Each one spurs mental images , feelings and thoughts, without needing any training or understanding of the Planets, whatsoever.

That being said, if you do happen to know the basics of what the Planets represent to us, human type critters, you’ll be in on some of the jokes and insights, in the deeper layers of the pieces. It’s win/win, either way.

I present you now, one of the first pieces from the new series and I chose this one because I think, perhaps, you’ll find it amusing. It’s called “conjunct neptune”.

To whet your appetite for it, will explain that the Moon rules over feelings, emotions, the unconscious mind and how we go about resting, healing and nurturing, both ourselves and others.

Neptune is the God of the deep sea and rules everything to do with oceans. But He also rules illusions, delusions, intoxication, dreams and sleep. Knowing that, what you read next should make perfect sense.

Enjoy!

conjunct neptune

i think i’ve gotten

a little bit

of a nip

of a part, too thinky

i need to boughten

some lit

of a tiny, or large, sip

of the drinky

i think with a wink

to take the day off, is an excellent notion

and it’s severals of the excitings

it will be to play about, lay

and noddedly to blink,

filling a trough, slipping into the potion

that’s more than enough writings

for any, or one, or this, done, day

Magus

(Kevin Trent Boswell)

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the witch returns

For Carrie, on her birthday

white witch of of the primordial oceans

a sphere of Fire swims

through vast expanses of deep,

trudging, Gulf Stream, without end

the wake of each wave is a play space

for Olokun’s children, bobbing up

and over the water

delighting in their own weightlessness

waning lunar light glimmers

on the surface of an exoskeleton,

a creature bearing a barb,

sharp, it is a needle

dipped in fiery nighttime

whiplash smile, able to cut,

deep into the heart of urgent issues

or to hobble an enemy

with vials of poison,

whatever job need be done,

that day

winged heels take to flight

upon waves of air,

transmission of electronic signals,

through waves of sightless ether,

collecting data and drops of dew

ideas float on currents, across

all space and time

sharing a spot with the

silver tongued trickster

is a red man of war, atop a war horse,

bedecked with invisible armor,

as hard as a hundred mountains

but light as a hummingbird’s breath

his sword drawn

and leveled at the temples

of his foes, to skewer the craniums

of intellectual fools,

here in his compound of Air,

he draws on his vast chalkboard,

designing inventive new ways of war

the warrior’s consort is

floating neither in Air,

nor is she hold up in some rich,

resplendent palace of Earth,

neither does she take a dip

in the immense pool of fish pairs

instead, she is bathed in Fire,

full of wrath and vigor

and the conquest of all things

she carves her name

into the trunk of time

and carves the throat out of fear

the ancient architect

hath built up for himself

a strange structure, not his typical castle

and not quite a chariot,

with predictable, rolling wheels

nay, his world walks, tank-like, upon on

an assortment of odd, spindly stalks,

grabbing at the ground,

drawing their meals

in with Mesozoic pinchers,

pulling each meal into a small mouth,

where the Lord of Time

consumes his peculiar fish

all these dance and sway and spiral,

without end

all chuckle, change and challenge,

wrapped in a weird package, labeled friend

Magus

(Kevin Trent Boswell)

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The Nascent Magician magick course

Depths

Wrangle up a monster

From the down below

Summon up a beast

That one can keep and know

A tiny, personal demon

One to call your own

In the furnace flames,

An angel image shewn

Burn the picture well

Into your flesh and mind

Hook it into every pore,

Be sure to be unkind

For the creatures that do dwell here,

In these dark and lonely parts

Sing songs of woe and cowardice

Emanating from empty hearts

Little, naughty things

That upon the pain will feast

Siphoned off a tank of dreams

Of which you know the least

I can retell an ancient tale,

Bound by honor, I will never

To have a shallow type of glory

A broken attempt at being clever

My own private monster

Would certainly not be pleased

It takes the choice and refuses to

Be taunted, mocked or teased

All the lovely portions and parts

Hungers it has now sated

Replaced in time by stupid rhyme

And nonsense, well-debated

This is the thing that demons do

And it’s what fascinates us so

All the places and all the things

They can make us do and go