I am reminded of those who, believe it or not,

with no awe, reverence or kinship feel like trashing it all

preaching on the divine...

A poem by Missy Malverde.

I used to believe that the greatest act of love was to sacrifice…

Hail and Farewell, Goddess!

We surely are about to die.

We are the serial products that lose sense and purpose if our numbers are switched, reduced to a lowly existence, even less than what we are already systematically forced to be. In the eyes of the Witch, today we lack poetry.

‘When frost rimes my window I cannot forget
you were there at my beginning
and will greet me again at the end.’

This Empire will not fall
until Annwn’s doors are opened

If they wanted fewer guns they'd just make fewer.

“New oaks poke out below us in the street, where water runs around the lopped-off feet of some historic general whose head the children painted red.”

You don't have to believe them when they tell you that your uniqueness is a sickness, that to defy them will mean your undoing, that it makes you the enemy.

A poem about Gwydion, the Welsh magician god, and the shift from the woodland knowledge of gwydd to gwyddoniaeth ‘science’ which has played a role in our current ecological crisis (with accompanying notes on the mythic background).

I will shake my hips and the ground will quake. I will open my wings and the wind will come.

We’re done with ruling and with those who rule, with what they built and all their useless tools.

We swallow antibiotics as indiscriminate as our pesticides

And vote which color to paint our bombs.

“We must survive the night - and all the other nights. We must survive the flood. We must not just survive but thrive in mud.”

No understanding of borders here.

“Quemando la bandera"  (Traducción al español por Slippery Elm). / “Burning the Flag" (Spanish translation by Slippery Elm).

“Our cities, once bright jewels on the plain, are swept away in shards of shattered glass and buckled girder. In the rending shriek I hear the one-eyed king of giants speak.”

The elites The elites The elites…

“Where litter meets land, the detritus of the Anthropocene and the humus of the earth and her creatures meet in scenes that are disturbing, to some disgusting, but which display the alacrity of life”