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The Lover

10/22/2019

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Imagine God / Goddess as the Other, the Objective, as the opposite sex and you, as yourself the subjective.
That the search for Union with the Divine is no different than your search for communion with your Lover, your Beloved.
Now consider your awareness as YOU and everything your experiencing right now, no matter what it is through your awareness, what appears as external as the Divine Lover / The God / Goddess.
The witness and the witnessed... Got it ?

Ok !

Now read this short poem whilst listening to the music here on youtube by Dhaffer Youseff, Read it over like a poetic prayer until ..... !

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_vpQ4EBs8yA

.

​.

The Lover

Picture

As i awake so you await me
Today friend or enemy
We love so we hate
You make me
We are together
In violent rapture
Torn from each other
Stitched back together
Seeking constantly
The Lover

There’s no escape
From love’s torture
Only the persistent flower
The one that never withers
But blossoms in winter
Petals gentle that flicker
Once plucked are poison
With possessions passions
Becomes heartache
And longing for
The Lover

But i am here with you
Holding your heart
The hermits lantern
Shining in the dark
Allow me to embrace you
To steal from you
All that would tempt you
To believe you are alone
You are not
For i am with you

You are not
For i am with you

You are not
For i am with you

I love you
The Lover

I love you
My Lover

I love you
Be Loved

I love you
Be Love

I Love

Love

Love

Love

Lov.

Lo..

 L ...

.....

....

​...

​..
.
​.
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San Lazaro

10/21/2019

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San Lazaro

Picture
By my hands alone
Have i raised you
Yet you forsake me

Poisonous vapor
Poured from your cavernous lips
Clenched on crippled lies

Whore of the night
Your now limp carcass
Perfumed in sugary scents

Devoured by the long tongued snake
Poisoned by its venom
Bound alone forgotten

I who am the sunsets son
Fraught with bruised pestilence
I shall now lay with you

Only to find you unworthy
Of my bright kingdom
Beyond life’s sordid sufferings

My trembling hand now open
Forsakes you to the omens
To the land of hobbling men

No longer knowing
No longer seeing
Just squirming, squeaking, jerking and yelping

I fear not your curses
I am the diseased breath that speaks them
The whisperer that deafens ears

As the vultures circle i return to my kingdom
Lord of the earth
Crowned purple and golden



 'A prayer to some, a curse to the one that speaks them !’


Poem by Y. Zsigo
Image by Pep Bonet





B
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The Devouring Mother

10/4/2019

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The Devouring Mother

Picture
She has fallen into fire
Now hungrier than ever
Seduced by death’s power

The starving lustful lips
With the swing of her plump hips
From black chalice sips

Nothing is held sacred
The white flesh that lies naked
Her beauty old and faded

A promise once to keep
Blood spilled now at her feet
The scythe cuts the wheat

The words that have been spoken
The gates are ever open
The hearts strings that are broken

Beware the black pilgrim
That swollows her children
And devours her own sin

Who wretches on the hate
That now meets her own fate
Her son’s that lay castrate

Her bloodlust now enraged
Bound and cursed and caged
The war that has been waged

So now to steal her wealth
The books lye on her shelf
For she has hexed herself

And now to eat her own
The good fortune that has flown
All bloated and alone

Then last comes her Mistress
Demanding the last kiss
Returned to the Abyss

So be careful now my babies
Lest you too catch her scabies
From mothers mouths with rabies

When finished with the night
We now turn to the light
And leave them to their plight

So come home to the sun
Where all now comes undone
A New Day has begun....


​.
Art; Alessandro Sicioldr
Wordz; Yanu Zsigo

‘A prophetic poem for misplayed magick’

​'Everytime read is recast !'

Click on link Idiot Compassion and the Devouring Mother
https://medium.com/@andrewpgsweeny/idiot-compassion-and-the-devouring-mother-3dbe2b1dc688

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The Tears of Pan

3/5/2019

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THE TEARS OF PAN

Trickle drop, trickle drop, trick all drop
Like fishes from rivers that flipety flop

Hickeldy pickledy pickle de plop
Like splashes of water upon the rooftop

When will they when will they when will they stop
Like hands from the frozen grandfather clock

Wiggledy  pigaldy wiiggeldy ploc
The faerys are screaming the worms are in shock

Hex away hex away hex away hop
The wizard is wandering oh where is his flock

Boggledy woggledy boggledly wop
Where is the gremlin that’s hidden my sock

This away that a way this away knock
The door will not open the poison hemlock

Shackety wackerty shackety wok
The  chickens are squawking the cry of the cock

Pita pan pata pan pita pan poc
He cannot stop weeping the garden gates locked !
​
Picture
Painting 'PAN WITH TEARS' by Linda Lundell
Poetry:Y.Zsigo
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Animist

2/23/2018

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Picture
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Dying Swans

8/30/2017

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Dying swans

Picture
They are gasping for air retching their last breath
They had gathered to be with us to bring wisdom
Yet you took their beautiful necks and strangled them
Looked into their loving eyes and poisoned them
With twisting hands you stole the golden promise
Choked life from their broken hearts and beaten bodies

I thought you were different not one of them not like all the others
But you became far worse than the innocence killers
More murderous than the greedy simpletons of yesterday
You dressed as a queen in a gown of white feathers
Spoke tongues of angels and whispered togetherness
Forever was the promise you spoke so delicately

They had gathered around us under the willow weeping
Two young girls smiled sweetly as you held me
A naked boy stood as silent as a statue before us
Naivete perfumed the floral setting of our dreams
We were beyond space entwined within time
Together finally like two birds flying into eternity

Your beautiful hand reached out to beckon them closer
As the feathered flock encircled us like priests and priestess
You smiled and they came nearer their fear falling behind them
Come closer come into me i will never hurt you i promise
They believed you in that moment they trusted us
Then you took their necks and shook them violently

One by one they lay jerking and shaking before me
Their divine bodies in spasms like snakes burning
The young cygnets dark eyes pleading with me
Why did you do this why would she lie to us
I turned to you in disbelief but you had disappeared
And all that was left was green grass soaked in black tears
​
Picture


​Wordz by ‘ Y ‘ MagickalChild

A ‘MagickalChild’ is birthed whenever ‘The Other’ is communed with through the combined
​soul of creativity and intention.
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The Center of Everything

8/13/2017

1 Comment

 

The Center of Everything

Picture
In the self is a door
Through the door is a dream

Within the dream is a river
Upon the river sits a boat

On the boat rides a ghost
This ghost is the dreamer

The dreamer breathes pleasure
The pleasure draws its breath

The breath sucks and shivers
The shivers show the way

The way is even deeper
Deeper than any measure

The measure is timeless
Timelessness whispers

The whisperer tells us
The teller unknowing

The unknowingness knows us
The knowing moves forward

Forward into the chasm
The chasm that swallows

Swallows the serpent
The serpent unwinds us

​The unwinding chaos
The chaos shatters everything

Everything we hold true
The truth of the liar

The liars bitter laughter
That laughs at disaster

The disastrous master
The master of tensions

The tension that binds us
Binds us to the past

The past of our ancestors
The ancestors within the earth

The earth is the cauldron
The cauldron of transformation

That transforms the raven
The raven of knowledge

The knowledge of forgetfulness
The forgetfulness of wisdom

The wisdom of giving
The giving that saves us

Saves our souls as we crumble
The soul’s weight now lightened

To the light of the spirts
The spirits that dance

The dance of creation
 Creating the gateway

The gates to the garden
The garden of splendour

The splendour that opens
The opening within us

​To the tree that trembles
Its trembling shimmer

That shimmers at its centre
Picture
THE CENTER OF EVERYTHING!
Picture
That shimmers at its centre

​Its trembling shimmer
To the tree that trembles​

The opening within us
The splendour that opens

The garden of splendour
The gates to the garden

Creating the gateway
The dance of creation

The spirits that dance
To the light of the spirits

The souls weight now lightened
Save's our souls as we crumble

The giving that saves us
The wisdom of giving

The forgetfullness of wisdom
The knowledge of forgetfulness

The raven of knowledge
That transforms the raven

The cauldron of transformation
The earth is the cauldron

The ancestors within the earth
The past of our ancestors

Binds us to the past
The tension that binds us

The master of tensions
The disastrous master

That laughs at disaster
The liars bitter laughter

The truth of the liar
Everything we hold true

The chaos that shatters everything
The unwinding chaos

The serpent unwinds us
Swallows the serpent

The chasm that swallows
Forward into the chasm

The knowing moves forward
The unknowingness knows us

The teller unknowing
The whisperer tells us

Timelessness whispers
The measure is timeless

Deeper than any measure
The way even deeper

The shivers show the way
The breath sucks and shivers

The pleasure draws its breath
The dreamer breathes pleasure

The ghost is the dreamer
On the boat rides a ghost

Upon a river sits a boat
Within the dream is a river

Through the door is a dream
In the self is a door
Picture
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Fallen Angel

5/26/2017

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Fallen Angel

Picture
We came from heaven, falling from the sky
Like angels tumbling through the night
The seraphim’s scream their wrenching cry
Forgetfulness now claiming its delight
 
Oh how we wandered shaken and forlorn
Our senses shattered from what was done
The golden mantle now tattered and torn
Our withered wings singed from the sun
 
And how we yearned to sing the songs
That sung the celestial realms awake
Yet silence gripped our tethered tongues
Like dying swans on poisoned lakes
 
What of prayer and gods covenant to man
When so much suffering upon the earth
Our arms spread wide to touch the land
Our hearts entwined to her rebirth
 
This pain was caused by us after the fall
The gaping wound not well disguised
As we wait for harp songs budding dawn
The woe within her darkened eyes
 
And now we know the plight of every man
Of how it feels when praying to the wind
It’s only God that knows and understands
How angels cry for every hand that’s sinned
 
For every breath of life and love we take
An angel watches dreaming of the day
When we would raise our eyes and hearts again
And kneel on bended knee to pray
 
We would never want to see your likes again
So far fallen from the firmament
Your tears of love that washed our guilt away
Returned at last to those that were heaven sent
Picture

​Fallen Angel: Jolinde Nijland
​Photographer: Carlos diaz
​Poet: Y.Zsigo

​

'MagickalChild'

​'The series of images and poetry entitled 'MagickalChild' is an exploration into revealing the essence of the people involved through imagery / art / poetry, creating an invocation through Magickal intention to birth an aspect of themselves into the world'

​Click on 'MagickalChild' link on blog to see more
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England

5/23/2017

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England


​This land is cursed 

Its people are broken

The spirits of old, imprisoned

Its glorious past a gravestone

To many spells have been cast here

The demons bicker in the junkyards

Over busted souls and broken hearts

Big Ben rings out its last lament

Yet no one bothers to listen

All to busy to know they’re on a sinking ship

All to clever to realize they are drowning

And what of Brittania and the Castles keep

As if a lost underworld soaking in the sludge of sleep

Dripping with dark depression, swimming in its own sewage

I longed for your bright and brilliant return

Like a sailors wife who’s eyes weeping

Never leaves the salty seas horizon

I took courage and tried to stay the course

In the hope that honour would return

Now battered and broken

I leave these clawed torn shores behind me

No recompense, no real remorse

Just simple relief

In the deep understanding
​
​That England

YOU ARE NO MORE.
Picture
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The Withered Garden

5/15/2017

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The Withered Garden

The garden weeps and withers
Surely all is lost, alone and dying
Where is the goat that kisses flowers
Where are the dancing Fay at twilight
Why has the moon gone silent
And the breeze standing still as stone

He’s alone here watching orchid’s flower
As Pan crys tears into the black river
Suffocating on smog and smoke
Her hand held like a crippled captive
She alone can call down the summer
Yet her fingers are now like broken bones

What have we done with the promise
That was given many moons ago
Under cherry blossoms fragrant scent
Where sweetness filled the waters
And perfumed petals from loves union
Spun and spilled through the hollow

It was only given as a gentle gift
A treasured moment soft as snow
That melted died and quivered
Now broken to the crooked winter
What has become of us, of our beauty
​Now rotting in dark sunsets all alone.
​
Picture
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Pan

4/27/2017

1 Comment

 

Pan

' How yet may it come to this
A life of pleasure and of bliss
Your playful presence in our midst

In love and laughter's decadence'
Picture

Poem; Y.Zsigo
Artwork; Diego Almeida
1 Comment

Wrath

4/8/2017

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Wrath

You called me i came

So i called out your name

You ran screaming to reason

To love fear and hate

When all that was needed

Was to bow to your fate

You may not of known

The power you'd spoken

The seed's had been sown

The heart strings been broken

This was never a game

To be played with like children


Now we burn at the gates

Of the Gods of creation
Picture

​Poem by Y.Zsigo

Demiurg by Mateusz Twardoch
http://dreamframes.artstation.com/
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Ode to Herne

9/22/2016

0 Comments

 

Ode to Herne

Picture
Oh, to dream of Herne and the pleasures there in, 
Lies a selkies dream of oak trees daubed in golden mistletoe.
Tales tell of sweet honey nectar,
Drawn from parasitic roots leaves and berries.
Mabon be the child,
That on the day of its kindling,
Be bathed thrice in the sacred pools of Annwn.
Harpies call to those such as these,
That ponder plant life and poetic in their searching,
Seek the gift of the Golden tongue.

Taliesin’s tempered telling, told of tales,
Twinkling in twilights tasting.
Amergin quelled with rosemary rhymes,
Of gifts to be taken, 
With those who dare to dawdle down dingily dells,
Of dew drops dripping from the lips of the Queen of Fay.
You my Queen of all hearts seeking, 
Who’s bed of pettaled pou porri pours pleasures on my thick skin.
You the Queen of summers game ,
Wild huntress of the morning.
Rise up from your Fairie fort and shower me in blessings.

Wide eyed wandering wonderers of willow trees winding their spindling vines, 
Through nooks and crannies of old wives tales telling.
Deep into this sodden earth and boulders of basilled breads burnt backing,
Betrothing of their making.
Worms of wooded wild wilderness,
Intent on investigating.
Baal and Bacchus,Dionysius dreaming,
Arianrod, Hecate ,Demeter’s distant calling.
Lead us through this Devic dance onwards towards your dwelling
And there beside the Queen of Fay,
My bed lies for the making. ​
Picture
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The Initiation

9/8/2016

1 Comment

 
The Initiation
Before salvation comes damnation.

It is in fact this descent into darkness that IS the Initiatory process.

The place where all fears, pains and demons surface to devour the unwilling victim.

There is never any guarantee of success, in fact if this process were not life threatening, it would not truly be Initiatory.

Only when every last morsel of mortality has been devoured and the final spark of one’s essence is cast deep within the crooked pot.

Only then when the Great Mother, the birther of souls, reduce's one’s spark to complete finality does the alchemical process truly occur.

Only then when the last thought trembles and is lost, will she birth a new soul.

Back up through the searing heat, gasping its first breath, into and beyond the gates of the
3 realms.

Where the spirits of the sky decorate and dress the now dancing specter.

Not in the attire of old, but instead in the gleaming new rags of the twice born.

Now adorned in the bellowing ribbons of rebirth that float gently back down to the quivering earth.

No longer alive or dying but instead revived, released from the land of the dimming lights.

Changed, transformed, now unrecognizable,

Except to the dark mother that birthed them.
​
Picture
1 Comment

The Garden of Desire

6/23/2016

0 Comments

 

The Garden of Desire


​Once again she has entered me,

I am embraced,
In loves delight.


She is like subtle smoke,
Incense of Divine king's,
Inspiration's keep..


How she calls to me,
Draws me from my slumber,
Sings me from my sleep.


I enter the walled garden,
She holds the key,
Opening herself to me.


I who have wandered,
Weary from the battle,
Tired of the dreaming.


I who have called you,
Sung to you,
Just to sing myself to sleep.


I who have fallen,
Like dark angels wing,
Deep into the night.


I who have wailed,
And roared,
Unto this bloody fight.


I who have slaughtered,
And been drunk,
From the blood of men.


I who have angered,
All who stood in my way,
To find you once again.


I who have died,
In the arms,
Of sin.


Have now risen,
Been lifted, ascended,
From this shallow mire.


Held, caressed,
In your Divine,
Embrace.


And now made whole,
Returned unto,
This garden of desire.


Picture
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