Magic 1-5 and the Odd Verse

Baths, Baths, Baths
Said the spirit reader
Your spirit is unclean
Because you invite
Too many kinds of things in
And the querent noted
In the post, days later
The ridges of the toothed comb
Run through your hair
Combing out old experiences
Cut your hair off
And they will trouble you less
Especially if you have
Kinky, curly, or frizzy hair
In that order
Do a salt water cleanse
Anointing yourself with some
Then write a verse on the sidewalk
Put the cleanse water
Into a measuring cup or a pitcher
And pour a circle or a square
Around the verse
Tracing or invoking
Your preferred symbol over it
Then if the spell concerns a place
Or a person
Walk a circle around
That or a related place
And with your chalk
Draw your symbol
Within the circle
And say the words you find necessary
For complete freedom
Cast your implements into the sea
And dance
Preferably around a fire
(Careful not to get drunk and fall in)
You may get new implements
But know that such elaborate things
Are not necessary
To many magics
Adjust rituals
As needed
William Burroughs’ Chaos Magic
To ruin a place
Make a recording
Of the ambient noise
Circling and pacing about the place
At various times of day and night
And when you get home
Record over it at various places
‘Trouble sounds’
Such as sirens, gunshots, screams, fights, explosions
And return
Circling and pacing again
Again day and night
But this time playing back
They will soon be gone
And nothing will sustain there
For decades
Not that I would ever risk such karma
But I imagine such a technique
Could be adapted
To non-destructive ends
The raven and the crow fly
The black cat pokes around
Out of doors
Other black cats may stalk
But not mine
Moving along
The worms do their composty work
Reducing my footprint
(Not really, they’re dead
But I’ll get some more soon)
The man diffuses his grappa
From dross into clear golden
Later to drink down
As the faeries that inhabit Gwirrel’s Garden
Take nighttime trips
To rain inspiration or dark ideation
On your sleeping head
Your keys represent your access to the realms
How would you characterize them and their rings and chains?
Do you often lose them?
Or always know where they are?
Are there too many, or just one?
And in how many copies
Combination locks and passwords
And identifications and credit and loyalty cards similarly
Who knows what about you?
What is your relationship to your clutter,
And how much is there;
These are important things to know
Are there dead spots in your life?
Or is it merely well lived in?
The stray dog comes through your window
Searching for safe haven
Do squirrels or snails
Plague your fruits and vegetables?
And of what do you dream?
Later I discovered
Two relations of the Fibonacci Sequence
To the number of sides and internal crosses
In polygons
The third layer being the number of sides plus crosses
The second layer being the number of sides
And the second layer in the level above being the number more than last
Although there is no third level in three
The number of sides and crosses is three
Which the second level on the other side adjacent is also a three
I’m sure this is not news to mathematicians
But I found it fascinating

Expression of Keys

A tempest
A man in the fog
The wolves are howling
It is time to rise
Some dancing is there and you, you are ready
All day you put it together, wandering
The beekeepers tend to their flocks
You cannot be in it just for you
Forgetting the phone we forget our task lists
In all the sleep together you are
You punt and delude and are thence and then permitted
Altogether you go, and all at once, charge in
Weeping and sleeping the feathered traps
The head rages with tension
Expression is limited by the expression of keys
A chain is seen and we are bound together
The life of the mind is one of great wonder
We find all in readiness for our sincerest of pleas
Trimmed up and collected we are the picture of manhood
We see the glow that surrounds our sweetheart
We take it on faith and bring it to God
Our prayers are then taken and answered for true
All at once we see it and all at once are gripped
And in the Dead Sea we float on our dreams
The clouds of unreason disappear and stay put
The edges of life are not enough to hold me
I come for my truth, no compromise to be
You see it and know it for what it is
And then it is just as you wish it to be
Although the questions remain of who or which

Needles and Keys

The thing perfectly shaped

To accomplish one motion

To gain swift entry into

A sanctified place

One, sanctified as ‘privacy’ and ‘property’

The other, sanctified as our life’s blood,

Not to be interfered with,

Except by stomach or lungs

One lock created, one lock evolved

The skin and the cylinder

Both to be worked, or picked

By pins and needles

Precisely shaped metal,

In either case, the proto-key

Although glass might also do for needles

But how to shape such without advanced technology

And the further ramparts of

The liver and the blood-brain barrier

Guard the brain

As the records of the nation’s secrets

Are guarded by many layers

Needles and keys,

So similar,

So different

Composite Keys, the Reshaping

Composite keys to the reshaping
This point in phase space hides between
The council and revolution
On a point of mass hysteria may I expound
The propaganda organism may build on truths as well as lies
Or on nonsense to spark inspiration
The application of random and directed action
May bring about some gradual change in consciousness
While unpredictable, it is preferABLE
The effects are unknown yet in some small wise
we can confound the forces of uniformity and oppression
As with Bit Torrent it’s in the seeding
Seeding small thoughts of chaos, little mysteries
Or pumping out your potent message for others to hear
Let it be said: paper is more potent than pixels
;impact; ::: force to brain
More to come, perhaps, when I’m rested
The cards are leading me to political action
I shall choose my own strange and cheap means
With only these two hands
A resurgence of satisfaction and greater self respect is indicated
Images will have to wait as I still cannot upload