Saturday, September 28, 2013

ARTS OF SORCERY

"Silenced by Sophi"e-Mayanne

astride a sofa.
My Vintage Look


DARK SIDE OF THE MOON

Women can build stupidly, destroy creatively and with deadly skills kill themselves and stay alive for another day to deny it all. With accuracy can hurl words through glances that are terrifying and pretend in a moment, if caught, all is well. The dark side of women's spirituality has aborted many a child's light, and hushed a man's soul and shaped his dream into a muffled nightmare. I've puzzled, in the aftermath, over the ruins of lives, and souls, and plans when some women, I've known and loved have created death, and wounds in the name of self-preservation, and Jesus' name.

In a time of enlightenment  and hope for a better future the darkness of the souls of beautiful women men have pulled into their lives goes into the silenced recess of their defeated minds to ferment like cabbage under dirt. That fermentation process has started young in many boys.

I remember a preacher, now a Bishop whom I know better than most men, talk about the sorcery he learned from his sisters. His sisters were among the finest women I've ever seen in my life! When he was a teenager his sisters would play upon his street reputation and call him to stand guard over them to protect them from the recoil of the devastating blow they were going to drop upon an unwary boy they'd used and finished with. It seared into his soul the fine art of their treachery, and fashioned an ideology within him counter to the Christian teachings he was to learn over the following decades as a minister and a father. 

Other women have taken the seed of the man they love more than any other, and tried to manipulate him into marriage by the threat of aborting the child in her womb. Others have used sorcery to take men's will and place all he is into the folds of their 'pussy' through some old formulas passed down from mother to daughter, generation to generation. I experienced it in the United States.

I didn't grow up with  it. I heard of it living in Benin, West Africa. I'd never seen a glimpse of it growing up in my mother's house. I saw it with clarity after my manhood flowered from a virgin into the sexual realms celibacy prepared me for in my twenties, and onward! 

© Gregory E. Woods, 
Keeper of Stories 
1.27.13


Self portrait





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