Image Slider

the divine strange magic of poetry

| On
4:15 PM
This all started because I was hellbent on finding a new poetry collection to read. There is nothing quite as juicy, or enchanting, as sinking my teeth into a book of poems. Each line is a mystical little slice of glamour, or an invisible golden rope pulling me under the sea.

Reading (or writing) a poem is getting a spell cast on you and casting a spell in the same swift moment. It's a rush of excitement for the uncertainty and nostalgia in one fell swoop because poems make us see and feel seen.

I'm a Leo sun, a Pisces rising, and a Leo moon, so it's no surprise that I'm drawn to the power and nuance in language. Thinking about poetry, how it moves us, and calls for movement made me realize that it is in fact, a type of magic. Poetry is magic from within.

We can receive and give poems, just like any other spell. Poems can be written and practiced in private like solo witches, or shared in a group setting with our covens. And, anyone can write a poem anytime or anyplace. Just like spells.

What I love about poetry and spell casting is that it isn't a zero sum game in manifesting things you want. It's about spreading more positive energy and joy in the world for the highest good. It can be about receiving light and instilling a sense of protection.

Poetry spells can be about gratitude, dreams, wishes, good fortune, or even just rest. I think this world and its people can use more magic, and poetry is an open process for everyone. So, why not craft a small poem and unleash it into the universe? It's already in the universe, waiting for you to find it and set the enchanting cycle in motion.

For me personally, I use poetry spells for self-care and gratitude. But how you choose to create and share them (if at all), is your choice and yours alone. Essentially, poetry spells travel within the private and public spheres of life and it's up to you how to write and cast them. Isn't that wonderful?

It's mystical, powerful, small, and mighty all at once. Initiate yourself.

Enough of my chatter, here are some resources to get your poetry witching on. The first guide is written by me.

Feel free to modify it to suit your tastes:

Meet Pepper

| On
12:27 PM

Pepper is my lovely, new rescue pup. She's a sweet little Pekingese and Japanese Chin mix. Her favorite activities include lounging and napping, eating treats, and chasing unsuspecting pigeons. I'm excited to see how our human-tiny wolf friendship blooms.

If you're considering adopting or fostering a dog, look at the network I rescued Pepper from: Stray From The Heart.

Three Poems Everyone Should Know

| On
4:34 PM

A beautiful thing about our world is that we have poetry in it. The following three poems have changed me in some profound or visceral way. And maybe, it'll change you to. Regardless, everyone should know these three poems. I keep reading "The Lovers" to myself over and over. I never tire.

"The Lovers" by Timothy Liu

I was always afraid
of the next card

the psychic would turn
over for us—      
                           Forgive me
for not knowing
how we were

every card in the deck.

"Scheherazade" by Richard Siken

Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake
                                                       and dress them in warm clothes again.
         How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running
until they forget that they are horses.
                   It’s not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere,
         it’s more like a song on a policeman’s radio,
                 how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days
were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple
                                                                                       to slice into pieces.
Look at the light through the windowpane. That means it’s noon, that means
         we’re inconsolable.
                               Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.
These, our bodies, possessed by light.
                                                                Tell me we’ll never get used to it.

"Sleeping in the Forest" by Mary Oliver

I thought the earth remembered me,
she took me back so tenderly,
arranging her dark skirts, her pockets
full of lichens and seeds.
I slept as never before, a stone on the river bed,
nothing between me and the white fire of the stars
but my thoughts, and they floated light as moths
among the branches of the perfect trees.
All night I heard the small kingdoms
breathing around me, the insects,
and the birds who do their work in the darkness.
All night I rose and fell, as if in water,
grappling with a luminous doom. By morning
I had vanished at least a dozen times
into something better.

Yves Saint Laurent Bleu Cobalt

| On
10:49 AM

I'm having a love affair with dark metallic blue nail polish. With a smooth application, the polish took a whole week for one chip to appear. That's some kind of magic.

Hotel Ghost, a magical poetry chapbook

| On
7:18 PM
It's with great pleasure that I'm announcing my debut poetry chapbook, Hotel Ghost. It's such an honor to have my first small collection with Bottlecap Press. Poetry has been a wonderful art form for me, with its mysterious and yet concrete weaving possibilities.

Here is one of my favorite poems from the collection:

Field Notes

everything you say
can be condensed as gun fire.
a fleeting glimpse of a relationship
disaster & compromise.

Hotel Ghost is available for $6.

Do you write poetry? Please share yours in the comment section. I'd love to read it.