A2Z Challenge: W is for Witches

There are big differences between witches and the other 25 folklore creatures I am writing about. The first is, minus a few mythical ones which may not be, witches are human. The second difference is that I am certain some people who declare themselves witches (including friends of mine) will read this blog. Thus, I may well be brought to correction about what I write. Another difference is, along with elves, I think witches are cool. I like them.

The amount of information available, much of it provided by self-identified living witches, is plethoric. Any library could dedicate and fill an entire section to witch-related topics (I bet some do). All this I say both as an excuse for my brief driveling twaddle, and to encourage the curious toward continued exploratory adventure into the worldly subjects of witches and witchcraft and nature and other witch-related things, such as Wicca.

This link will take you to a list of famous witches from various eras. That page will also provide a link (interesting) to related belief systems (religions). And this link will take you a Wiccan page that will explain 15 different types of witches (I didn’t know).

I have written about witches before (this poem, for example), but only fictionally as I battle my own cognitive dissonance with reality, stereotyping, and fiction.

That said, one category of witchery includes mythology and folklore, which is the category for this blog, according to the A-to-Z Challenge list of categories. To keep between the lines of myth and lore, I present five witches for you from mythology and folklore.

From Homer’s Odyssey, a witch named Circe drugged sailors and then turned them into animals, wolves and lions mostly. For me, that explains a lot. Odysseus worked with Circe on the problem and after a year, he and his sailors were free to go back to Ithaca.

The Witch of Endor used the ghost of Samuel to tell King Saul that he would be defeated and killed by the Philistines in battle. However, he was only wounded in the battle, but then he killed himself anyway. He must have been bewitched. Go figure!

Vampires with toe thing.

The Chedipe is a witch who got pissed at men. She rides a tiger into their homes unnoticed. She then sucks the life out of men through their toes. I have no explanation for her sucking toes to death fetish. The guy dies, and she moves on to the next victim. Have a good night and keep your toes covered. Can a witch also be a vampire? I noticed some talk of prostitution in my research.

The witches from Macbeth remind me of a high school skit I was in. These Sisters of Fate were the agents of destruction for Macbeth and all of Scotland. Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble.

Hecate is the Greek goddess of witchcraft, witches, sorcery, poisonous plants, and other hocus-pocus stuff. She is still worshipped by some groups and is the source for the concept of a jinx.

Ignorance then. Now?

I cannot imagine this.

Look both ways for witches from the east and the west, the north and south.
Mind the gaps and the pointed hats.

 

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A Magical Tempestuous Storm – Poetry

Crazy hair piled up high framing piercing eyes of molten steel,
eyes with a warning smirk of dark trouble and danger
should one touch the shadow of her magic,
thus revealing a turbulent tormented storming soul —
Her wildly pursed red lips inviting living spirits to approach,
still suggesting thoughtful caution of a forbidden mystery,
before approaching near he hears her bittersweet
calling voice echoing deep within his chest,
from the savage throbbing and quivering in delirious frenzy,
he sees dark powers flashing from her black fingertips.

Within her passionate realm a shining moon and stars,
safe from the unrestrained bedlam of magical battles, the sky
enlightens their whirling and spellbound excitement,
dancing into dark night sounds of rapturous laughter;
echoing sighs and resounding venomous frightening cries.
A vehement sorceress casting spells with her thighs,
“Relax, dear man, my sensing pleasure is the rendering
of your haughty spirit into a new submissive being,
tamed forever by your seductive enchantress.”
As she raged, he endured her loving, pounding thunder,
In his toil and trouble, the fire of the witch’s cauldron bubbled,
yet her maddening deadly cries of passion calmed his fears.

Brilliant flashings in darkened skies; fair and foul scents of burning flesh hover;
his body now scorched and red, his mind mixed with passion and mania
as their unrestrained magic erupts into an abyss of souls, nothing but dead.
Yet, willingly he knowingly gives over his being,
his soul, and all he is, was, or ever will be, to her mystical dominance.
Her dark, unconsoled audacious spirit reigns over his battle lost, hers won in the fog of filthy air.
Underground, her biting and pulling him into this night of pain and pleasure,
he is now terminally seduced by this lovingly brash and ruling mistress.
Painfully submitting his pride, his manner, his life and being,
seeking the comfort of her mystical kiss
as he witnesses to her power and takes in his pain,
he kneels before the touch and the torch of his witch, worshipping at her feet.

In his delirium he experiences euphoria –  the ecstasy of pushing aside his anguish and agony,
as she hovers over him and conjures the revoking of his pain at her whim by her will,
she elevates him from the torturous tedium of a miserable existence of sheltered boredom
to a triumphant cloud of comfort and challenge, now subjected to random
spellbinding musings of a mad mistress molding this man into her mate and lover;
expunging his pain with the pleasure and purity of the magical realism produced by fantastic
fantasies as they dance through flames of orgasmic delights devoid of depressing doldrums.

She promised lives of incarnate pleasure and pain;
he as her servient lover, she as his muse and provocateur;
together they sail and they fly through time and space,
he enthralled by her power, she his bellwether to the underworld of a mysterious life,
entrapped by the freedom making two dark souls one bright god and goddess,
master and mistress of all roads and all kingdoms,
their love and mating shall live forever as the forbidden man and his queen of all witches,
never resting or sleeping while forever seeking a peace from their lives of tempest-tossed wonder.
When sounds of the night excite; when the crashing of thunder, lightning, or rain are right;
listen for cries of lovers in pain seeking the pleasures of the witch and her inamorato.

Bill Reynolds 1/24/2017

Night or day, look both ways. The gaps can harm ya, mind them all.

My original idea for this came from the Eagles’ song, ‘Witchy Woman.’ I wanted to “poetic” this idea up further to something about loving witches. Then, ‘Black Magic Woman’ by Santana, while not much for lyrics, bewitched my spirit with his awesome sound. As my imagination drifted, I considered (and used) scenes of the witches from Macbeth. I imagine ‘non-wiccan’ male relationships with a female witch (wicce) to be one of forbidden mystery, good and bad, light and dark, yin and yang. I can’t imagine the witch, no matter how loving, as anything but aggressively dominant, unyielding, yet still caring, nurturing, and protecting. I wanted a struggle. I tried to shed as much of my witch stereotyping as I could, yet keep the drama of the loving, in-control, witch-bitch that captured my thoughts. Is this poetry or prose, fact or fiction, fantasy or reality? Do you want to be either one of the two? Both? Neither?

Some soft witch music would be nice to close.