Sunday, March 29, 2015

The Sunday Whirl/ A Witch/ Poetry Pantry #245 -- The Sun Shines (Almost Everday)



A Witch

a witch you say     i think not      an artist i retort

unless you are referring to the use of the word for a wise woman

then i'll accept the name         for i am

you accused me of the ancient craft       was it because i was wearing black

to mark the recent death of my young husband       without knowing i respect it

as much....or more       than the fiery fairy tales you hold so sacred

it doesn't matter       i'm not a joiner       not a part of a group

though i live in magic       i do not call myself a witch............ regardless

i was looking at chance      a form of science      when you called me out

you said things that cannot be repaired       cannot be taken back

not that you wanted to      i exist on the edge       the clouds billowed

the darkness gathered       it rained on the long journey back home       just one more thing

to be added to that moment       it is an old story happened so many times before

as i sing it      i was framed       given a bad deal    embarrassed in my mother's home

March 29, 2015



Note: Written to the prompt: Sing, craft, frame, fiery, repair, deal, billow, chance, add, back, exist, call

It happened, is true. And it happened so many times before, so many woman were accused of being witches, often they were older women after the death of their husbands. The church hired men to go into small towns to find women without protection, to accuse them, to take their property...to call them a witch.


The Sun Shines (Almost Everyday)

yes it happens each day      the sun moves across the valley      all day long shadows change

the sun shines       (al)most everyday      it circles my house & studio

the center of my life      at the end of the day

it falls in the west     & the blinding rays are      purple & red

almost blinding the poor watcher      yet to capture it all in a few words

what else is there to say      talk about the zombies      the walking dead

the pain of a pierced heart      the beauty      but these are little things

little everyday things      it is the mountains that speak the loudest

tell the truth      remind us our little dramas are of no consequence to the land

the land has always been here      & will always be      it is what mabel found

& it is what i have found

March 29, 2015

The sun moved across the valley all day long, circling the house that was the new center of my life, and fell early, with blinding rays of purple and red.
--Mabel Dodge Luhan (from Edge of Taos Desert: An Escape to Reality)




18 comments:

C.C. said...

I didn't know that there was a use of the word 'witch' that also referred to 'wise woman' so found that very interesting to learn. Thanks :-) I enjoyed this tale and the way you told it.

Mary said...

Annell, this is the link that works for your post this week: http://somethingsithinkabout-annell-annell.blogspot.com/2015/03/the-sunday-whirl-witch.html. It will lead those who click on it directly to this particular post. Study it so that next time you link you will be able to get it linked. Really it is not hard. Perhaps before you put in a link somewhere you should put it in an email and email it to yourself and see if it works. If it does, use that. If not, figure out what changes you should make. Hope this helps.

Mary said...

So true that little dramas are not that important to the land that has always been there. Land does not consider the small things, but the big picture. But the fact that the sun shines every day IS important. A fine poem today, Annell.

annell4 said...

Thank you Mary.

Sanaa Rizvi said...

Such an intriguing tale... enjoyed reading it :)
xoxo

Anonymous said...

This was really nice... And if it's truly based on an actual event I'm so sorry! Didn't know there were idiots like that around any more (thought we'd evolved beyond the witch-hunting days of yore)... Then again... Great write, in any case!

brudberg said...

Giving people names is one thing.. but giving them name ostracizing or worse is another... witchhunts is a terrible thing.

Mr. Walker said...

I like how you used the wordle words to take on the subject of women being persecuted. The line about "fiery fairy tales" being held sacred is a stand-out.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

I envy you living so close to the mountains, watching the sun rise and set over them. I especially love your second poem, and especially "it is the mountains that speak the loudest". Interesting poem, too, about women shunned as witches in times past.

Blogoratti said...

Interesting and vivid descriptions, really animated thoughts!

Donna@LivingFromHappiness said...

Oh I have often been called a witch...how awful to have this happen just to take your property. Now they call us the B word.

Old Egg said...

It is possible that men couldn't understand a woman being able to cope on her own with her cat making do in penury by gathering herbs that were available and just making do and singing of her lost life and love. Clearly she must be possessed and religious fanaticism to conform made the widows outcasts and suspect. Such is the wisdom of man!

Old Egg said...

It is possible that men couldn't understand a woman being able to cope on her own with her cat making do in penury by gathering herbs that were available and just making do and singing of her lost life and love. Clearly she must be possessed and religious fanaticism to conform made the widows outcasts and suspect. Such is the wisdom of man!

Sumana Roy said...

Witch hunting in other names still exists in different corners of the world...I love the second poem and its title...

totomai said...

So true. I don't know why wearing black was stereotyped to witches. I liked how you defend against the stereotypes

Jae Rose said...

I feel a strong sense of giving voice to women - we should always seek magic and never live in fear of judgement or retribution for doing so x

ZQ said...

Good grief... well documented... but, as a voice to all...
ZQ

Unknown said...

the world is filled with unusual people who live in their own world of thoughts, creations and journeys. How sad when we rather than accept brand these people.

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