Tag: magick

witching hour

Téa NicolaeLeave a comment

*poem published in Coven Poetry, 2021.

at witching hour

she enchants the sky,

binding the stars with her elder wand

when the moon drips on her tongue,

she breathes into her bones

and her spirit spills through her nostrils

she jolts to the sky

where she unfolds;;;

she erupts in rolling thunders,,,

slides constellations through her hair,,,

tangles herself on rays of sun,,,

                        and blossoms into all-encompassing all-pervading awareness

           she surrounds all penetrates all upholds the galaxy eternal she is endless

                        she is ALL THAT IS

                                               …………………………………………………………………..

when the charm fades, her skin tingles

as she is drawn back into her flesh

in which she crashes with beautiful violence

her essence melds into her figure, sliding through blood vessels

her spirit curls between her fingers

her soul swells inside her mouth

and from ALL THAT IS

she becomes

A MICROCOSM

A FRAGMENT OF THE WHOLE

image credit: Tithi Luadthong, shutterstock.

[untitled] by téa nicolae

Téa Nicolae3 Comments

*poem published in The Writing Disorder. ✨

(it is spring), i miss
your damp forehead
between my shoulder blades

(i can’t bear to look at the moon again); i miss
how you used to bite my earlobe
whenever i drifted away
[or whenever i picked up
books like

the hundred thousand songs of milarepa
because
poetry more beautiful than ours
gave you a headache]

(my darling), i miss
your firm grasp
on my hips

(i’ve been sleeping on your side); i miss
how your eyes
used to                                           soften
when i sang
ballads to the                                 cosmos,
wearing your duvet as the high priestesses of athena
would have worn their robes

[and when you looked at me with adoration i felt like an enchantress    ,,,,,    dazzling, alive, fire in my belly, a daughter of the seas   ,,,,,,    and i conjured all the elements in the texture of our lips]

(i’m sorry i promised to visit but i didn’t) i miss
curling up to you
sweaty hearts pressed together,
your fingertips drawing
stars and suns on my back;;;
the night i left you
i laid awake
locking eyes with the night sky
through your half-opened window,
i was cold and
i wiped my tears on your pillow case.
at one-point i could have sworn
the sky slipped into your chamber
and laid in bed with us
and i thought
etcetera.

 

writing disorder

Hymn to the Bearer of Life by Téa Nicolae

Téa NicolaeLeave a comment

Hymn to the Bearer of Life

Humming for Grace,

my blood spills out of my veins

to sing Her lullaby.

Humming for Grace,

my tongue thirsts

to curl Her name.

Humming for Grace,

my bones humble themselves

for Her mouth.

Humming for Grace,

my flesh draws the map

of Her wisdom.

All there is

and all I am:

a lotus flower

at the feet of the Divine Enchantress.

As a drop of rain falls into the sea

and a grain of sand drips into the desert,

I am birthed from Her womb,

and to Her womb I return. Blessed be the Earth

that binds us as One.

💜 published in the anthology “in which poetry breathes life”, 2020.

🕊” i wrote this poem for my experimental poetry module in my final year as an undergrad, when our tutor (Polly Atkin!) invited us to view poetry as spellcraft. this exercise, along with my research into spiritual poetry at the time, inspired me to dedicate myself to constructing a lyrical, metaphysical female gaze – much needed in literature, imho.

🕊 the sales for the collection “in which poetry breathes life” were donated to WHO’s covid-19 response fund, and the compiled works explored poetry as an outlet to navigate through the uncertainties of 2020.

🕊 you can purchase the anthology here:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Which-Poetry-Breathes-Life-NaPoWriMo/dp/B088N3WS58

🕊 “Spells are poems, poetry is spelling.” ~ from the introduction of the anthology of Occult poetry edited by Sarah Shin & Rebecca Tamás, entitled “Spells”.

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