Archive | October 2014

Meditations on Death


The Blog of Baphomet

I love this time of year; the dark is rising and Hallowe’en will soon be upon us. And while of course I value all seasons, all the signs of the Zodiac, it’s Scorpio that really does it for me. My birthday falls on November 1st and so this time is always tinged with that childhood expectation. Add to this my love of the occult and especially those elements of esoteric practice that are typically linked with Scorpio (sex, drugs, death and transformation) and you can see why I adore this time.

Pumpkin Tribe Pumpkin Tribe

I buried one of my cats yesterday (the 25th of October), a suitable seasonal event.

Gozo (as we named him, after the Mediterranean island) had reached a suitable age but, as is commonplace with Felis domesticus, his kidneys were failing fast. For some years he’d actually been living with a friend on the over side of the Torridge…

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’tis the season of the witch



‘This the season of the witch, Triple Goddess, Maiden, Mother, Crone. The Maiden, virginal and full of promise. Mother, nurturing and loving. Crone, experienced and wise.
I was the Maiden, trusting and open to life. I was the Mother, my arms and heart open to everyone. I am now the Crone,born of love and loss, ecstasy and anguish, hope and disappointment. I am now the Crone, dark, brooding, and introverted. I am looking into myself and witnessing the reincarnation of the Maiden, purified and made pristine by fire. I am witnessing the rebirth of the Mother, coddling and nurturing my own psyce and soul. I am the Crone, honed by experience. The season of the witch is now…now is my season.


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The Winter’s House In Windtown, by pd lyons


Pdlyons's Explorations


The Winter’s House In Windtown

Saturday the witches came
haggard hoary bristly three
and in the kitchen at the sink
incanting charms and pantry spells
resorted themselves to true beauty

and walking by the lake again
cut bouquets of certain weeds
grown only on forgotten graves
taunted frogs with transformation
lured from whispering reeds
wood duck, heron, silent swan
cupped and rubbed soft feathered chins
left them fast asleep invisibly protected through the night

upon their fingers velvet bats
sang busy beeping songs
until blown away with kisses.

then made it back for midnight tea
around the blazing fire
wood rum, pale cakes, spiced ales
nettle cheese, fresh sliced pumpkin, acorn soup, roast chestnuts
honeyed mushrooms, steaming cups of coffee coco

and greeted right well all
unknown travelers of the night
but none so well as the stray tabby cat
intent on playing catch the porch pixies
bounded slid…

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