Showing posts with label sorcery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sorcery. Show all posts

Sunday, October 1, 2017

You could lose your mind ...


Hats
Jessica Rabbit's dark side.



There is darkness in sex. Death follows it. It was created thus by the very nature of choice. It is too far a stretch for the average person to consider. Going against the grain of the outcome of lust is the notion that the relief from the tension of longing justifies knowing not the shadows of sexual energies because the purity of the act cannot possible harbor animosity! It is safe this understanding. Who would want to consider sex otherwise? A warrior would. A sorceress would know it, and use it and the victims come to realize it during attacks and in the aftermath cannot escape the memories.

I met a woman whose face and body I have long forgotten. But, her presence and the words she said remain within me as a tutorial I share, and have shared times before now. She had long observed how and how often I read on the job. I got my work done. I was no slack. I was a student in the practice of learning and considering. Because this job kept me in the public many paid attention to me studying what caught their eye about me and sometimes someone would drop serious knowledge upon me. This time the woman with the story came to me powerfully moving the air before her with a strong motion from within her being. I remember it clearly.

She asked me if I knew of an article about a man recently released from St. Elizabeth's hospital, then a hospital in Washington DC for the mentally jacked up, mostly. Today, Homeland Security sits on that property. "I did not." I said. She placed the article on my desk to read. It was the story of a man who'd been sentenced to St. Elizabeth for killing a man and claiming the devil made him do it. It had been twenty five years for him. I did what I often do. I waited for her to speak. I like the wait for a story. This one I wasn't prepared for.

She said, "I put him there."

There was a long silence between us. She let it sit heavily between us looking carefully into my soul, it seemed, and I into hers intently. She had been in a relationship with him, a deep one. Married. I don't remember but he was in her bed long enough to engineer strong emotions within her. There was something he did so odious to her that she weaved the darkest sorcery upon him through sex. With the wind and other elements she told me a bit about how she did it. In court and in the preparation of his defense he convinced all that he was insane in a time that was horrified of such assertions as his that the devil spoke to him telling to kill someone. The voice was real, she said. It was hers.

Now, sedated by revenge and relieved of the work she'd done she felt it urgent, or important to tell me these things. I suspect she saw more within me than I, and simply passed the knowledge with the story to my understanding. I have learned other things along these lines, but it isn't a subject for the average person. It is not for the weak to eat the meat when they only drink the milk at the table.


Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories
Jan. 22, 2017




red headed Vixen defying the odds against her. (2015)



Tuesday, June 13, 2017

LEARN WHAT IS PRECIOUS!



A Story from Blood
 

Engulfed in the glory, the magnificence of having sex with a variety of women many a boy becoming a man, and many a man has lost himself inside the designs of a conjurer woman well versed in the dark arts. They are pounding away, their 'manhood' swirling inside women with abandon feeling entitled to something intangible that feels so good! She needn't be an advanced witch. She need only be taught by a bitter aunt, an angry woman how to turn her womb into a pit devouring men's essence out of spite and rage he may not have even created!

I was warned. I have warned others, but so far-fetched is the notion some snicker and don't adhere to the warning insights or the evidence seems preposterous. In modern times such a thing is right out of the movies and suspecting foul play within the fold of a woman's legs, or the taste of her juices cannot be possible in the availability of light arising from her punany moist with her intoxicating aroma. But, there are men creating the rage within women and some women learn on purpose how to turn their punany into a devouring force, or their hurt, their humiliation from a man's callous handling of her 'precious' soul creates the aroma of bitterness never meant to harm, but harm it does the essence of the next men inside her body.

The question a man needs to ask himself when overwhelmed by need and lust: "Are you wise, or weakened by lust uncaring?" has to come from his sense of being a father and a husband. I am talking about the essence of fatherhood. A man needs to know his children live within him before conception. I am also talking about the essence of a man that needs to protect women, and become a husband.

How a man's manhood is defined is the outcome is the riddle here. You see, being penetrated has powers the power of penetration does not have.

As a word of caution study yourself to know yourself, and study what elements and essences can balance you the way you study the mysterious things outside yourself you may feel compelled to refer to as God. - Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories 7.26.16  



 

Thursday, January 21, 2016

PRACTICE 21

FATHER TO HIS SONS


Son, this is from a level of spiritual warriorship not for the faint of heart, or the untrained. This fight is within you, but what will your Medicine, your life dictate for  you to undertake? is the central question to answer. To engage in this dialogue online is senseless. But, to engage in the dialogue is full of good common sense. As you age periodically examine your shield reading and discerning its language. - your father (Gregory E. Woods) 12.13.13


The Teaching  
"The kind of shield that allows only the thought forms of light to enter and returns all darkness and destruction to the sender." ~ Agnes Whistling Elk, elder & Grandmother teacher of author Lynn Andrews  



Sara Dastjani
October 8, 2013 



Wednesday, July 15, 2015

SORCERY? I may be wrong!


Lilah Babi  Dolla


The mysterious aspect of women submitting to pornography as a source of income, and expression has to be far below the surface answers typically given to the inquires into why many women are pulled into this industry. I think it has all to do with a type of sorcery. Its tentacles are not always obvious.

Women are complex conduits with powerful links to divine sources with answers to complex insinuations that will evolve if a man can carry out his duty to be a man of a priest-craft order. Men are mysterious creatures needing the relationship with divinity within the soul of the pussy of the right women, in many cases, and for the more disciplined they need the care of the one woman, who meets most of his needs, but balances and supports his life force like no other woman can!

I would suggest sorcery because what else can pull light into darkness?

- Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories 9.26.13



Lilah Babi Dolla
is a porn actress


try meDimesDec 17, 2012


body for birth is a woman's body 


Saturday, October 25, 2014

Old School Revenge, Hopi style




How The Yellow Corn-Ear Maiden Became A Bull Snake And Revenged Herself – Hopi


Caribbean girl on the sand at the beach Stock Photo - 1797066
Maiden crouched & ready
Copyright : Chris Fourie


A long time ago two maidens lived in Oraíbi. They were close friends and often used to grind corn together, one time at the house of one, at another time at the house of the other. But after a little while they both fell in love with a certain young man of the village, which led to disagreement and quarrels between them. The Yellow Corn-Ear maiden was possessed of supernatural powers and concluded to destroy her friend and rival. One time early in the morning they were both going to get some water from Spider Spring, which is located somewhat north-east of the village. They took their so-called maiden's jugs (mónwikurus) with them. When they were returning to the village they came to a sand hill, and the Yellow Corn-Ear maiden suggested that they rest there for a little while.

After some time she said to her friend: ''Let us play here for a little while. You go down this hill and I shall throw something at you. You catch it and throw it back to me," whereupon she drew forth from her bosom a very pretty little wheel that showed all the colors of the rainbow. When her friend had reached the foot of the hill she threw this wheel at her, and when her friend caught it it was so heavy that it threw her down. When she rose she had been turned into a coyote. Her friend at the top of the hill laughed at her and said, "You have been quarreling with me about that young man, now that is what you get for it. Now, you go about that way." Whereupon she picked up her jug and went to the village.

The other maiden, now a coyote, felt very sad and ascended the hill to her water jug, which she tried to carry but could not do so in her present form. She waited there until evening and was crying most of the time. After dark she tried to enter the village, but the dogs of the village immediately drove her away. She made a large circuit around the village and tried to enter it from another side, but was again driven away by the dogs. So she went westward, and having become very hungry by this time, she was thinking where she might find something to eat. It was in the fall of the year, and the people were watching their crops in the fields, so she thought she might perhaps find something in some of the sheds or temporary shelters in which the people were living, and approaching one of them she found on top of a shelter two roasted ears of corn that had been left there. These she ate. She then made another effort to enter the village but as soon as the dogs of the village smelled her presence she was again driven away. She then concluded that she could not get into the village and again went westward. She knew that somewhere west of Apóhnivi there was a place called Yungáchaiví, where some herders had also built temporary shelters and were staying while they were herding their sheep at that place. She thought that perhaps there she might find some shelter and food.

By and by she arrived at a hut which belonged to two Qö'oqöqlöm Katcinas who were hunting in that region. In this but she found a great deal of rabbit meat, a good many rabbit skins and some entrails of rabbit. The latter and the meat were slightly baked. She was very hungry and ate a little of the entrails, which she did not like very much, however. It was about the time of the morning meal and the two hunters had had their early meat and had already left for the hunt. She was very tired, having spent all the night trying to get into the village and find shelter, and so concluded to remain and rest here all day. In the evening the two Qö'oqöqlöm hunters returned. When coming near their hut one of them said, "There is a coyote in our hut and has eaten some of our meat. Let us kill him." Whereupon he got ready his bow and arrows and was aiming at the intruder, when the other one said: "No, let us try to capture him alive and take him home to our grandmother, Spider Woman." Upon entering the hut they heard the coyote sob and saw tears trickling down his eyes. "Oh!" one of the hunters said, "This coyote is sad and has been crying. Let us feed him." So he took a large piece of meat, broke it in two and gave a portion of it to the visitor, who ate it with relish. Hereupon they concluded that they would go home that evening. They tied up the meat and the skins, and also tied the feet of the coyote, and loading everything upon their backs they returned to their home, which was at Katcina Gap (Katcínvala), a short distance northwest of Oraíbi.

Arriving there they called to Spider Woman saying, "We have brought you an animal. Come and help us lift it off of our backs." She did so and expressed her satisfaction at the present that she had received. They then placed the coyote and the meat north of the fireplace. The woman looked closely at it and then said to the two hunters: "Alas! that poor one! That is no coyote. Thanks that you have not killed it. Where did you find it?" They told her that they had captured it in their but where they had been hunting, and related all the circumstances. She at once sent one into the village after some Tomóala,
 the other one she sent to the woods after some juniper branches.

While they were gone she boiled some water, and when the man with the Tomóala returned, she poured the water into a vessel and put a hook from the pods of the Tomóala into the neck and another one into the back of the coyote. She then placed the latter into the water, covered it with a piece of native cloth (möchápu), then placed her hand upon the cover, took hold of the two hooks and kept twisting and turning them, by which operation she pulled off the skin of the coyote. Throwing aside the covering of the vessel she threw away the skin, and in the vessel was found the maiden whom she had thus restored. She still had her clothes on and her hair tied in whorls just as she had left the village. The woman asked her how she had met with this fate, and the maiden told her the whole story. Spider Woman comforted her saying, "You poor one. That Yellow Corn-Ear maiden is bad, but you will take revenge on her."

Hereupon the other hunter returned with the juniper branches. She took the maiden, the branches, and the water into another room and there bathed the maiden, then gave her some corn which the maiden ground into meal. After a number of days Spider Woman told the maiden that she should go home now as her mother was very homesick after her child, but she said she would call somebody in first; so she ascended her housetop and cried out to her neighbors that they should come in. In response to her announcement a great many Katcinas who lived around there came into her house, asking her what she wanted of them. "Yes," she said, "there is this maiden here and I want you to return her to her house," and then told them the whole story. They were willing. She then dressed up the maiden nicely, putting her hair into new whorls and placing over her shoulders a new atö'ö, and then instructed her that she should have her father make two báhos and a number of nakwákwosis for the leader of the Katcinas and for the leader of the singing, and also told her how she should behave towards and get even with her enemy, the Yellow Corn-Ear maiden. Hereupon they went to the village, the maiden going in the rear of the line of Katcinas. Having arrived near the house of the village chief (Kík-mongwi), where the Pongówe kiva is at present situated, they performed their first dance, singing while they danced.

This was at early dawn, the so-called white dawn (qöyángwunu). Their singing at once arrested the attention of some of the early risers, who hastened to the place where the Katcinas were dancing. Soon the news was whispered around that the Katcinas had brought a maiden to the village, and some soon recognized the girl and ran to the house of her parents. The latter, however, refused to believe the news, and four messengers had to be sent to them before they believed. They then went to the dancers, who in the meanwhile had arrived at the dancing plaza in the center of the village. "So you have come," the mother said, and began to cry and wanted to take her daughter with her, but the latter said, "Wait a little," and then told her father that he should take two báhos and a number of nakwákwosis, and while he did this the Katcinas continued their dancing and the mana remained waiting by their side. When finally the father brought the prayer-offerings he gave one báho to the leader, the other to his daughter. After the dancing was over, the daughter gave her báho to the leader of the singing. The nakwákwosis were distributed among the other Katcinas, and after the father had thanked the Katcinas for returning his child and had told them that he was very happy, they returned to their home, the parents taking with then] their daughter.

She rested there during the whole day, but early the next morning went to grind corn, singing a little song which told about her recent adventures. Her friend, the Yellow Corn-Ear maiden, heard her sing and at once visited her, expressing her great delight at her return. She was treated cordially, the maiden just having returned not manifesting any ill-feeling towards her at all, according to the instructions of Spider Woman. She was biding her time. They ground corn together all day again as they had done formerly. In the evening they went after water again to the same spring where they had gotten water before. While they were filling their jugs the Yellow Corn-Ear maiden noticed that her friend was dipping her water with a peculiar little vessel (which Spider Woman had given to her) and that the water, as it was running into the jug, looked very beautiful, showing the different colors of the rainbow. She said to her friend: "What have you there? Let me see that little cup." "Yes," her friend said, "that is a very good cup, and the water tastes well from it, too." Hereupon she drank from it and handed it to her friend. She admired it very much and also drank from it. Immediately she fell down and was turned into a bull snake. "There! You remain that way now too," the Blue Corn-Ear maiden said; "you tried to destroy me, but you will now have to remain that way because no one will help you and restore you." She then laughed, picked up her jug and returned to the village.

The bull snake left the place and wandered about. It often gets hungry, but as it cannot run very fast it has difficulty in getting its prey, hence it captures its prey by charming and drawing it towards it by its powerful inhalations, which is still frequently observed by the Hopi. It lives on little rabbits, mice, birds, squirrels, etc., which it charms by its inhalations and then kills them.

This maiden in the form of a bull snake later on went to the village once and there was killed by her own parents, who of course did not know that they had killed their own daughter. Hereupon the maiden, or rather her soul, was liberated and could then go to the Skeleton House. Ever since some of the sorcerers (Pópwaktu) will occasionally leave their graves in the form of bull snakes. Bull snakes are often seen coming out of certain graves still wound in the yucca leaves with which the corpse was tied up when laid away. If such a bull snake in which a sorcerer is supposed to have entered happens to be killed, the soul of the sorcerer living in it is set free and then goes to the Skeleton House (Máski).

Footnotes:
A pû'hu (road or path) consists of one or more small feathers--usually eagle feathers-to the stub end of which are fastened a single and a twisted string. These feathers are placed near springs, in front of shrines, altars, on paths and near graves, as paths for clouds, spirits, deities, etc., Whom the Hopi wish to follow the paths.Told by Qöyáwaima (Oraíbi).



An African model posing at the beach Stock Photo - 881696
matured woman honoring her womb.
Copyright : Chris Fourie


Friday, November 15, 2013

Lox deceived the DUCKS, cheated the CHIEF, & beguiled the BEAR



 a Micmac story

Somewhere in the forest lived Lox, with a small boy, his brother. When winter came they went far into the woods to hunt. And going on, they reached at last a very large and beautiful lake. It was covered with water-fowl. There were wild geese and brant, black ducks and wood-ducks, and all the smaller kinds down to teal and whistlers.

The small boy was delighted to see so much game. He eagerly asked his brother how he meant to catch them. He answered, "We must first go to work and build a large wigwam. It must be very strong, with a heavy, solid door." 

This was done; and Lox, being a great magician, thus arranged his plans for taking the wild-fowl. He sent the boy out to a point of land, where he was to cry to the birds and tell them that his brother wished to give them a kingly reception. (Nakamit, to act the king.) He told them their king had come. Then Lox, arraying himself grandly, sat with dignity next the door, with his eyes closed, as if in great state. Then the little boy shouted that they might enter and hear what the great Sagamore had to say. They flocked in, and took their seats in the order of their size. The Wild Geese came nearest and sat down, then the Ducks, and so on to the smallest, who sat nearest the door. Last of all came the boy, who entering also sat down by the door, closed it, and held it fast. So the little birds, altumadedajik (M.), sat next to him.

Then they were all told "Spegwedajik!" "Shut your eyes!" and were directed to keep them closed for their very lives, until directed to open them again. Unless they did this first, their eyes would be blinded forever when they beheld their king in all his magnificence. So they sat in silence. Then the sorcerer, stepping softly, took them one by one, grasping each tightly by the wings, and 'ere the bird knew what he was about it had its head crushed between his teeth. And so without noise or fluttering he killed all the Wild Geese and Brant and Black Ducks

Then the little boy began to pity the poor small wild-fowl. He thought it was a shame to kill so many, having already more than they needed. So stooping down, he whispered to a very little bird to open its eyes. It did so, but very cautiously indeed, for fear of being blinded. Great was his horror to see what Lox was doing! He screamed, "Kedumeds'lk!" "We are all being killed!" 

Then they opened their eyes, and flew about in the utmost confusion, screaming loudly in terror. The little boy dropped down as if he had been knocked over in the confusion, so that the door flew wide open, and the birds, rushing over him, began to escape, while Lox in a rage continued to seize them and kill them with his teeth. Then the little boy, to avoid suspicion, grasped the last fugitive by the legs and held him fast. But he was suspected all the same by the wily sorcerer, who caught him up roughly, and would have beaten him cruelly but that he earnestly protested that the birds knocked him down and forced the door open, and that he could by no means help it: which being somewhat slowly believed, he was forgiven, and they began to pluck and dress the game. The giblets were preserved, the fowls sliced and dried and laid by for the winter's store. Then having plenty of provisions, Lox gave a feast. Among the guests were Marten and Mahtigwess, the Rabbit, who talked together for a long time in the most confidential manner, the Rabbit confiding and the Marten attending to him.

Now while this conversation had been going on, Lox, who was deeply addicted to all kinds of roguery and mischief, had listened to it with interest. And when the two little guests had ceased he asked them where their village was, and who lived in it. Then he was told that all the largest animals had their homes there: the bearcaribou or reindeerdeerwolfwild cat, to say nothing of squirrels and mice


And having got them to show him the way, he some time after turned himself into a young woman of great beauty, or at least disguised himself like one, and going to the village married the young chief. And having left little Marten alone in a hollow tree outside the village, the boy, getting hungry, began to howl for food; which the villagers hearing were in a great fright. But the young chief's wife, or the magician Lox, soon explained to them what it meant. "It is," she-he said, "Owoolakumooejit, the Spirit of Famine. He is grim and gaunt; hear how he howls for food! Woe be unto you, should he reach this village! Ah, I remember only too well what happened when he once came among us. Horror! starvation!"

"Can you drive him back?" cried all the villagers.

Yes, 't is in my power. Do but give me the well-tanned hide of a yearling moose and a good supply of moose-tallow, then the noise will cease." And seizing it, and howling furiously the name of his brother after a fashion which no one could understand,--Aa-chowwa'n!--and bidding him begone, he rushed out into the night, until he came to Marten, to whom he gave the food, and, wrapping him up well in the moose-skin, bade him wait a while. And the villagers thought the chief's wife was indeed a very great conjurer.

And then she-he announced that a child would soon be born. And when the day came Badger handed out a bundle, and said that the babe was in it. "Noolmusugakelaimadijul," "They kiss it outside the blanket." But when the chief opened it what he found therein was the dried, withered embryo of a moose-calf. In a great rage he flung it into the fire, and all rushed headlong in a furious pack to catch Badger. They saw him and Marten rushing to the lake. They pursued him, but when he reached the bank the wily sorcerer cast in a stick; it turned into a canoe, and long ere the infuriated villagers could reach them they were on the opposite shore and in the woods.

Now listen to this story:


Now it came to pass one day that as Lox sat on a log a bear came by, who, being a sociable fellow, sat down by him and smoked a pipe. While they were talking a gull flew over, and inadvertently offered to Lox what he considered, or affected to consider, as a great insult. And wiping the insult off, Lox cried to the Gull, "Oh, ungrateful and insolent creature, is this the way you reward me for having made you white!"

Now the Bear would always be white if he could, for the White Bear (wabeyu mooin) is the aristocrat of Beardom. So he eagerly cried, "Ha! did you make the Gull white?"

"Indeed I did," replied Lox. "And this is what I get for it."

Could you, my dear friend,--could you make me white?"

Then Lox saw his way, and replied that he could indeed, but that it would be a long and agonizing process; Mooin might die of it. To be sure the Gull stood it, but could a Bear?

Now the Bear, who had a frame as hard as a rock, felt sure that he could endure anything that a gull could, especially to become a white bear. So, with much ceremony, the Great Enchanter went to work. He built a strong wigwam3 feet high, of stones, and having put the Bear into it he cast in red-hot stones, and poured water on them through a small hole in the roof. Erelong the Bear was in a terrible steam.

"Ah, Doctor Lox," he cried, "this is awfully hot! I fear I am dying!"

"Courage," said Lox; "this is nothing. The Gull had it twice as hot."

"Can't stand it any more, doctor. O-o-o-oh!"

Doctor Lox threw in more hot stones and poured more water on them. The Bear yelled.

"Let me out! O-o-h! let me out! O-o-o-oh!"

So he came bursting through the door. The doctor examined him critically.

Now there is on an old bear a small white or light spot on his upper breast, which he cannot see. And Doctor Lox, looking at this, said,--

"What a pity! You came out just as you were beginning to turn white. Here is the first spot. Five minutes more and you'd have been a white bear. Ah, you have n't the pluck of a gull; that I can see."

Now the Bear was mortified and disappointed. He had not seen the spot, so he asked Lox if it was really there.

"Wait a minute," said the doctor. He led the Bear to a pool and made him look in. Sure enough, the spot was there. Then he asked if they could not begin again.

"Certainly we can," replied the doctor. "But it will be much hotter and harder and longer this time. Don't try it if you feel afraid, and don't blame me if you die of it."

The Bear went in again, but he never came out alive. The doctor had roast bear meat all that winter, and much bear's oil. He gave some of the oil to his younger brother. The boy took it in a measure. Going along the creek, he saw a Muskrat (Keuchus, Pass.). He said to the Muskrat, "If you can harden this oil for me, I will give you half." The Muskrat made it as hard as ice. The boy said, "If my brother comes and asks you to do this for him, do you keep it all." And, returning, he showed the oil thus hardened to his brother, who, taking a large measure of it, went to the Muskrat and asked him to harden it. The Muskrat indeed took the dish and swam away with it, and never returned.

Then the elder, vexed with the younger, and remembering the ducks in the wigwam, and believing now that he had indeed been cheated, slew him.

Think about this:


This confused and strange story is manifestly pieced together out of several others, each of which have incidents in common. A part of it is very ancient. Firstly, the inveigling the ducks into the wigwam is found in the Eskimo tale of Avurungnak (Rink, ). The Eskimo is told by a sorcerer to let the sea-birds into the tent, and not to begin to kill them till the tent is full. He disobeys, and a part of them escape. In Schoolcraft's Hiawatha Legends, Manobozho gets the mysterious oil which ends the foregoing story from a fish. He fattens all the animals in the world with it, and the amount which they consume is the present measure of their fatness. When this ceremony is over, he inveigles all the birds into his power by telling them to shut their eyes. At last a small duck, the diver, suspecting something, opens one eye, and gives the alarm.

The sorcerer's passing himself off for a woman and the trick of the moose abortion occurs in 3 tales, but it is most completely given in this. To this point the narrative follows the MicmacPassamaquoddy, and Chippewa versions. After the tale of the chief is at an end it is entirely Passamaquoddy; but of the latter I have two versions, one from Tomah Josephs and one from Mrs. W. Wallace Brown.

I can see no sense in the account of the bear's oil hardened by ice, but that oil is an essential part of the duck story appears from the Chippewa legend (Hiawatha L. ). In the latter it is represented as giving size to those who partake of it.

The Algonquin Legends of New England or, Myths and Folk Lore of the Micmac, Passamaquoddy, and Penobscot Tribes by Charles G. Leland , 1884 


archives of Blue Panther




Thursday, November 7, 2013

Witches, Justice & the Yoruba

Birth of a Goddess

Iyami Aje
June 27, 2013
Iyami means my mother in Yoruba. It is also a name tied to a group of powerful women and primal mothers which represent power. The Iyami's symbols are the bird... but also bats... Birds can carry messages from heaven to earth and back. Bats are nocturnal and live in cave/wombs. They can see through the darkness and from different perspectives.. upside down. The Iyami Aje are also known as the witches.... The witches of ancient times were the elder women who instilled divine justice... They were and still are feared because of this same function. Justice is not just in carrying it out, but also having the divine insight through the spiritual eye to perceive the truth about a person or situation. In this way they could identify corruption at its roots..... but also have compassion because of the ability to see the source of the pain that caused the corruption. ~ author unknown




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





Saturday, September 21, 2013

SKIN WALKERS & Shadows


Legend of the Skinwalker 
~Ql

Most societies have folklores and legends of witches, werewolves, Sasquatch, and creatures that walk amongst us. The Navajo Indians or Deni’ people have Skin walkers. They are those who trot along here and there on all fours, those who change skins depending on powers they seek, those who follow the ‘Witchery Way’, the ones that the Navajo people defer from talking about for fear of reprisal. The Skin Walkers are the Witches Witch, the Highest Priest or Priestess who turns evil, who practice cannibalism and necrophilia, those who are no longer human – but are profound deviants – pure evil.

Yeenaaldlooshii, as the Navajo call Skinwalkers, literally means “it that walks/travels like an animalHe who trots along here and there on all fours.” It is said that skin walkers transform into the animal they want to utilize particular powers from. The skinwalker dons the fur of the animal while un-clothed underneath, and the transformation begins. A variety of animals are favored: the bear for strength, coyote for speed and cunning, wolf for heightened sense of sight, hearing and smell, cat for stealth and agility, and so forth. Any animal can be chosen. Yet when the skinwalker transforms they never get the gait and the rhythm of the animals walk exactly right, so it is said they can be tracked while they are traveling on the ground just not when soaring with the vultures.

Besides transforming into animals, the skinwalker has other powers. He/she can read your mind, control your mind, bring forth disease, destroy your home, even cause death. Trained in both physical medicine for the body and spiritual medicine for the spirit, they wrap the two tightly together in their practice. Most are trained high priests or priestess who then choose to follow the skinwalker’s path. Initiation into this deviant life is normally through killing a member of their immediate family, usually a sibling. They believe this provides them access to the powers of the skinwalker. Not all Navajo witches are skinwalkers, but all skinwalkers are witches.

Transformation to animals is not the only power the skinwalker has. They can sound like a baby crying or like any animal to get one’s attention, and they have their potions and spells. They use a mixture some call “corpse powder”, others call an immobilization powder, to blow into their prey’s face. This powder causes the tongue to turn black and swell, then convulsions, paralysis, and eventually death. Corpse powder is believed to be ground human infant bones which are powdered and made into a potion. Sometimes if the skinwalker chooses to target a whole family, the powder will be poured down the chimney or smoke hole of a home onto the waiting fire below. This brings sickness and possible death to all who are within.

Revenge and jealousy are the motivation for skinwalkers. The only ways to be rid of a skinwalker is to hire an expensive good medicine man to cleanse your home and perform ceremonies for protection. The only other way the Navajo get rid of the skinwalkers is by learning their identities and calling out the full name of the skinwalker. It is believed the skinwalker will then die in about three days. The Navajo say to shoot the skinwalker with bullets dipped in white ash. This doesn’t usually kill them, but when the skinwalker returns in everyday dress, the gunshot wounds make him/her recognizable so they can call out the skinwalker’s full name and destroy the evil amongst them. - Luis Aguilar


Native History. Myths And Legends
a skin walker


Win I do not know for sure Luis but I know that we, in my house, have experienced or rather have been experiencing the works of a shadow person and the clearing and cleansing of my house is not yet complete. I am not the target, my husband is. He still has a burn on his back healing from it. He was sitting on the couch next to me and he just started to squirm. I asked him what was wrong and he said it felt like his back was on fire. I looked, he had a shirt on and I didn't see any sort of burn mark or hole in the shirt. Then I raised his shirt and it looked like somebody took a cigarette and held it to his back just moments before I looked, there was a very clear burn. 2 days later you could see the initials in it... JM... like some sort of brand. He gets scratched and attacked both while awake and while sleeping. It scares me and I can't shake the sense that he's being attacked because he is with me.

Now you know exactly why I read this and just about crapped my pants haha. I live right by the Trail of Tears but also in an area ripe with slave history which ties in with the hoodoo. In hoodoo it is a live person who creates the shadow person, they are created in anger to get revenge and gain power and when their creator passes to the next world they become the shadow person and will continue to feed off the living picking and choosing their targets as they go.

I have had much to ponder and now you've given me a little bit more to think about. - Pam Omnica Ikhan



The Wall Group
Photographed by David Schulze for
 Surface Magazine, April '13. Hair by Seiji.

Thursday, September 6, 2012

DARK SKIN 5

DARK SKINNED WOMENWhat prayers & thoughts lie deep in her journey of the soul?

MANHOOD TEACHING: depth of respect

The famous French beauty, Brigette Bardot, is an old lady now devoted to a cause that has nothing to do with beauty, fashion, or show business. The most memorable thing I learned from her was from her confessing in an interview that her beauty was for men or her youth. I can't remember the exact words, but what stayed with me was the apparent dialogue she had with the issues Beauty brings up within a woman famous or not. It seems women's reactions in life revolve around their reactions to men's reactions to sexual and sensual stimulation, and women's reactions of jealousy and resentment from other women towards beautiful women comes from sources I don't quite understand. Judgement circulates around women who are perceived as pretty or beautiful. Fear is heightened around women who are sexy and/or exude sensuality. A A few of the most famous women exuding feline (mysterious) and potent suggestions and sensuality have been Mae West in her long dresses a hundred years ago, and Eartha Kitt, who shook the world with her dark skin, cat eyes and the continuous suggestion whirling around her that says, "If you are smart you'll figure out how to get this pussy, or I'll get you!"

Dorothy Dandridge !!!!

Marilyn Monore, another arousal, captured jealous and judgemental women, horny men, and sophisticated men with the perpetual promise to forever pretend she can be lured into bed naively by what they say, and less by what they do. It didn't matter three men in dresses were prancing about with had hard-ons. She could pretend so well it convinced generations of girls and women to 'play like Marilyn' to get what they wanted. In real life it turned out to be a dangerous game and many women and girls suffered broken hearts, and date rapes in the games men played to get laid.

Dorothy Dandridge and other Black women in the same era as Marilyn Monroe did not have the cultural luxuries Ms. Monroe had. The culture segregation created in Negro communities set high standards and expectations for their women. There were high tea parties, and debutante balls, sororities, fraternities, the proms, chaperoned dances, social clubs, the Negro YMCA, and church. Those who passed the paper bag test were the upper elite in the Negro communities, and they played a major role setting the standards of etiquette, education, dress, and conversation. There were very specific maxims every Black girl received from their parents, and the communities they lived in. Because communities are seldom generational, as my friend Juliette Porter pointed out to me today, a loss to identity informs the tragic stories we hear everyday in the 'hood, for example, and on television on those horrid reality shows like REAL HOUSEWIVES OF ATLANTA.

If one is paying attention to commentary, and comments made in public at distressing news where some Black person did something to 'embarrass the race' you can be sure that is a hint, a starting point for someone to start tracking from those words backwards to the source of Black intelligentsia, elegance, endurance, dignity, assurance, history, and strength of character. It is not that the best of Black American culture disappeared with integration. It changed forms. It lies in wait to be reassembled. It is like the mysterious teachings lost in the invasions that resurfaces in the life and words of a young man or woman a generation, or two later. The words, the old teachings were whispered into the ears of certain children at birth, into the ground of Black landowners, and into the stones who heard and recorded the stories of the best and the worst of our People. The best of Africa did not die on the shores of Turtle Island. It mingled and copulated with the traditions and deep spiritual traditions of the Red People and with the conquerors in such a way it transformed the United States from being copy cats of European culture in the 19th century into a distinct and emulated culture of the 20 and 21st century!

If any song is worth singing let it be sung through our women's lips, and carried out through their wombs we have scorned, and blessed and adorned with prayers and poems. Our relationship with the wombs of our women has trouble reaching the heights of awareness into the realm of the Sacred Feminine because of what we did as men trying to fuck and fuck everything, and what women did for a number of reasons good and bad to their wombs ending births, or using sorcery. - Gregory E. Woods 8.22.12


Dorothy Dandridge 



Tuesday, August 14, 2012

DRAGON


He had come off the mountains sliding. So depressed and sadden by his fate, and loneliness he couldn't even fly. A couple of hunters had thought to try and kill the dragon, but when he was very close to them and seemingly unaware of their presence they filled with fear, and trembled recollecting the stories told about his ferocity. But the maiden, the white woman was sad too. She loved the dragon and who the dragon was, and  night after night dreamt about the times before times before in his embrace. His juices made tracks between her thighs on many a night as they lay in each other's arms exhausted, but happy to be able to cuddle and make love. It was a dream, or was it? 

Being in the spell of each other's aura dulled his vigilance, and one mean nasty woman caught the two together, and slay the body of the man, and preserved his seed in a crystal vase she used to create the dragon. Night after night the spell took shape, and it became apparent the man had not died. He had changed his body into the form of his power animal to frighten the Old Woman and caught between fright, and anger she seized him while vulnerable between the couple's orgasms.

It is a sad story, but the undoing of all of this lies not in killing the Old Woman, but in understanding who they are together: the young woman, and the Warrior-Priest she loves. - Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories


Friday, August 3, 2012

SACRED STORY: after sex


Many thought their manhood held superior attributes, and erroneously projected those notions into the air they breathed. She felt them coming to her womb after sex and time had passed. Her essence was trained. Her mind was disciplined thanks to her father. Her beauty was layered within the context of power and beauty being what it was had knowledge as much as existence has knowing. Penetrated by the seeds of men who loved her She lived upon the knowing of how things worked together conspiring to be wisdom or folly. It was a dangerous life she lived taking chances being vulnerable, and endearing at the same time, but the need to be held and loved understood the risk factors negotiating with the souls of men not fully developed in the realms of power She was.

Did it make sense, she asked her Medicine, to take such risk?

Yes, came an answer.

But the pain of mistakes...

Yes. They are teachers.

by Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories (Dawn Wolf)


Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Great Walker and the Anishinabe Witches - Winnebago

There was a man of the Anishinabeg nation and he was a seer. He was very

holy and had great powers of witchcraft. When he visited people at night, he
would do so by flying through the air. He had three friends, and they too
were witches with the same ability to fly through the air. People greatly
feared them because of their powers. One night the four of them agreed that
they would have a contest to see who could fly best at night.

Among the Hotcâgara there was also a great seer. His name was Mânîxedega
("Great Walker"). He had gained knowledge of what these men were going to
do. On the night of the contest, Mânîxedega used his own night powers to get
there and there he waited for them with great patience. Finally, the four
Anishinabeg arrived at their rendezvous point. Each took off into the night
in turn, and of the first three, Mânîxedega used his powers to ensure they
would be lost. The fourth witch dove down from high in the air and landed on
a strip of land. As he stood there, unexpectedly, he had deer horns on
his head. These Mânîxedega seized and held onto tightly.

The other Anishinabeg materialized, and asked Mânîxedega to pay them a
visit. This he agreed to do. Finally, Mânîxedega came to where the witches
lived. They tried to persuade him to let them give him their powers, but he
refused, asking instead that they might give him the plants and potions that
they used to gain these powers. But they pretended that they did not know
anything about these matters. Finally, he asked them for their
life-engendering greeting and the all power inherent within it. This they
granted him, and it is this greeting that is used to this day in the
Medicine Rite. It is spoken in the language in which it was given.

Paul Radin, The Road of Life and Death: A Ritual Drama of the American
Indians. Bollingen Series V (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1973
[1945]) 138-139.

Saturday, November 5, 2011

SPIRITUAL WORK

“The apex of the special art I want to teach you is called the abstract flight, and the means to achieve it we call the recapitulation. Awareness must shift from one side of the forehead to the other. As children we can easily do this, but once the seal of the body has been broken through wasteful excuses, only a special manipulation of awareness, right living and celibacy can restore the energy that has drained out, energy needed to make the shift. The body must be tremendously strong so awareness can be keen and fluid in order to jump from one side of the abyss to the other in the blink of an eye…” – Taisha Abelar, The Sorcerer’s Crossing

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

BLUE LIGHT, a sacred story

blue light upon Manii Love, Iman Jackson is mysterious
MANNI LOVE’S Blue light


“The skill, and the power to capture the blue light of a soul has always been within the mysterious light of the magic of special creatures who resembled women, or men, but like most illusions were born of their mothers who did not hold allegiance to Eve. It is easier nowadays to create the illusion of being captured by blue light with the technology, but it masks the skill it took in the past to first see the blue light surrounding one's home. Blue light around the body came from within, and if cared for the soul would and could expand the blue into the protection of home, and village. Dark sorcerers could see the blue, but were defenseless against its dangerous, and seductive powers to heal, and restore life!” – Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories

Friday, July 15, 2011

BLUE LIGHT BLUE FLOWER


The blue light calmed people’s homes, and assured night creatures of the soul with the knowledge of imminent danger. The blue appeared to be a balm, but nefarious creatures were distracted from their tasks by the pull towards righteous light, bearing and integrity. It was disturbing the power of blue, of light, and the stillness evoked by its presence confused dark sorceress. Most living beings did not question its source, or wonder long into the night of their souls, or their memories where blue light came from or why it settled in certain flowers. The Magi did, and men and women of various cultures saw blue light amongst other lights cast throughout great forests as the first idea from God, and others thought blue light was the strand, the life line between the Goddess and the God she birthed into existence.”Gregory E. Woods



photo: blue flower from Zatiti Ema's gallery

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

GREED

The subject of money in the Western context brings up a host of issues, and contradictions to the spiritual claims of Christians and non-Christians. There is a concept, erroneous in character, built around poverty that has centered millions of people around a poor Jesus Christ.



It wasn't possible for Jesus or his disciples to turn on each other greedily because the majority of them, including Jesus, were prosperous, and skilled in the top professions of their day. They operated with good business sense with a treasurer. These men were astute enough to know how to leave their businesses and their families secure in their absence. They could create prosperity without being burdened by the self-depreciating thoughts of Christendom today. Moses, and most of the other 'Fathers' of our faith were wealthy men, and their relationship to money is outside of the lexicon of the average person of faith.


$500,000 in $100 bills

There is also a Native American concept of prosperity not centered on money, and there is also a medicine teaching about greed that comes to my mind, Sinclair. In the sacred Medicine Wheel teachings the Ancient One’s taught us from the Circles of their lives.  This particular wheel taught us about sorcery and darkness. Each element of this teaching carried itself into the shadows of self. Spiritual Materialism, in the North, the Untrue Mind, in the East, the Southern lodge of Greed, the Western Lodge of Envy, and in between South and West (Greed and Envy) in the Southwest are the Dark Sorcerers. - Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of the Sacred Medicine teachings

actress Carole Shelley as Dragon Lady