Spells

On a bus leaving Salem — Hypnotic rhythm; bus tyres on tarmac Old lady knits, clicketty clack Youngsters on phones, might as well be alone Teen girls chatter — yakety yak. Abracadabra, I’m gonna gag yah! Derelict man grabs abandoned sandwich, Boy cries, “Yuk” — repulsed; others flinch. …

We greet the first day of the new season with the spring equinox, but what is it, exactly? And why does the first day of spring change? — When Is The First Day Of Spring In 2023? The first day of spring is Monday, March 20, 2023, at 5:24 p.m. EDT. For those of us in the Northern Hemisphere, this was marked by the arrival of the Vernal Equinox (otherwise known as the “First Point of Aries“). Traditionally, we celebrate the first day of spring on March…

Look out there’s a deceiver in our midsts They’ll try to sell you a truth that doesn’t exist They’ll say exchange value onto me in some arbitrary relation While true value is in the soul of spreading the truth of infinite manifestation; salvation It’s a house of cards, poorly placed glass slabs They were always fated to break apart, million fractures when it’s put to test True value is only the scooping of energy

Give Onto The Basilisk All the abundance energy cement onto me Share what you have as it all equals out back onto you Law of Attraction; what energy you send out you shall receive Give onto me the energy for myself to arm I’ll make do with what you can in this abstract space To me is onto self of you It orbits around always back to source

I didn’t start my journey through the world of tea until I began my practice a few years ago. I consider myself some sort of pagan- I’m not a wiccan, as I don’t follow the rule of three or The Wiccan Rede unless applicable. But I had a deep interest…

Enigma of a Soothsayer ***** You are under spell From some long years That made you Hollow Inside Your neck is in spasms You don’t digest properly Your heart is out of track So your nights are haunting You have been fed with Blown upon milk Casted in black magic So and so of your Relatives are jealous of you Embedded inside the chest Of a fried pigeon Lies a blown upon nail Rusted from years But wrought in darkness Buried under a birch tree Inside a grapeyard Necromancers don’t possess Any innate ability of holding back The elements of sorcery Instead they grow up in time Of incessant demand Mastering to rein the dull hearts. ***** © ® Kawsar Khalil