The Welsh Occult Conference 2018: a review.

The weekend of the much anticipated Welsh Occult Conference began with an A-typical Mercurial trick or two, as the joker God tried his hardest to keep us from attending - but the Companee of the Green Man and Mother Nature are made of stern stuff, and we endured. All be it our plans for the … Continue reading The Welsh Occult Conference 2018: a review.


Last night I dreamt of Toads singing in the Moonlight…

Do you dream?

And when you do, do you dream of toads?

Do you hear their shrill call, as you hide your head under the sheets?

Do you imagine you can hear tribal women from long ago, raise their heads, open their mouths to let that sound out; that sound… yes, that sound… heads back, mouths wide open… *THAT* sound…

The one you hear when ancestors call you…

do you dream of toads?

The Wælcyrie of Carr Naze

Last night I dreamt of toads.. 3 to be exact… all different colours… A medium sized black one, a large Orange one and a smaller brown one.  They sat on my bedroom windowsill and sang to me bathed in full moonlight… It was quite beautiful.

I could [ and maybe will] write about the magical use of toads, and the folklore that surrounds them … but now, because I still need more coffee…a poem.

taod 1

Toad dreams

That afternoon the dream of the toads rang through the elms by Little River and affected the thoughts of men, though they were not conscious that they heard it.–Henry Thoreau
toad alchemical
The dream of toads: we rarely
credit what we consider lesser
life with emotions big as ours,
but we are easily distracted,
abstracted. People sit nibbling
before television’s flicker watching
ghosts chase balls and each other
while the skunk is…

View original post 142 more words

The Old Flame.

The street was still damp from the recent rain, the trees on the other side of the high stone wall along the footpath, kept dripping droplets on her head, causing her to pull up her coat collar, to save the cold dribbles going down her neck. It was still too windy for an umbrella, so … Continue reading The Old Flame.

Re-Blogged: Whoring the Goddess – Ayahuasca takes her revenge.

A long, but important read – well researched, with links, this is a re-blog, the original post is below – these are my thoughts on it.

What occurs to me after reading this is simple: not everyone seems to be what they claim to be, especially when money is concerned. The first lesson of Malkuth (this earthly plane) is to discern. Yet the New Age bleeds it’s ‘ethic’s’ even into our sphere of community – it brings with it an unhealthy trust of everyone, and this cannot be tolerated. It’s dangerous, as this article shows, to trust blindly those who say we can…

Another aspect of this is the Spirits themselves – as the author points out, in these instances the reality is people are dying; why? Because these things are dangerous – the plant concerned here, is like our own native hallucinogens are poisonous, deadly poisonous, that is why they act on the body as they do, and if they are administered wrongly or used by a susceptible person, they can, and will cause death.

History is littered with such tragedies.



Beware ye pilgrims who be messing with the sacred medicina!

 It is well past time to call this out: real people ARE dying in ayahuasca ceremonies – and not all those deaths are accidental.  The Vine of the Dead always came with a curse, so beware the cup you drink from!

This time it came by email:

Another one is dead. Hundreds are in trouble and they do not understand. Thousands have been lured into black magic!

There is war in the spiritual worlds, we are losing the trust of the Great Goddess.

Help us! We have no voice!

… this, from one of the leading healers using the powerful, psychotropic San Pedro cactus in all Ecuador. And the third such message to find me in three decades.

For the second time in all the years I have been working with traditional healers in the plant medicine world, I am stepping into this story…

View original post 2,532 more words

Hunting for Wetiko.

"We are currently in the midst of the greatest epidemic sickness known to humanity." ~ Paul Levy   ...there was no ritual, no incense billowing from the censer, no flickering candlelight, no barbarous words... none of this, but a sense of something watching, waiting... waiting for that moment to invade, infect, much as a mosquito does. A … Continue reading Hunting for Wetiko.

Ashes to ashes; dust to dust….

~Be Thou Far from Me Oh Thou Profane Thing!~ Ashes to ashes; dust to dust. Be gone thou foul thing, for needs must! A Curséd thing, on whom the spittle of many lies, now dead and dried; be gone! The Work is done! You are as nothing; nothing of nothing, you are no more. Never again to darken my … Continue reading Ashes to ashes; dust to dust….

The Welsh Occult Conference 2018.

I do love a good conference. Well, lets face it, who doesn't! Now Wales has it's very own coming up this summer. June 2nd 2018 will see the occult world converge on the town hall of Montgomery, in Powys! The event comes from the same stable of the Ludlow Occult Conference. Knowing how well received … Continue reading The Welsh Occult Conference 2018.

Llangar Church: Garw-Wen.

  I was there, watching, the day the men raised the first stone. Dismayed, I turned away - I heard Tum-Tup, same as you, mutter under his breath, so was it any wonder what happened, happened. We were there that second morning too, watching the disbelief on their faces. Did you see Tum-Tups face?  The, … Continue reading Llangar Church: Garw-Wen.

Llangar Church: Through the Lytchgate.

Drunken steps, from a head reeling with whispers from beyond, a hand reaches out... to stead, to earth, to ground the self. Cold stone.   Present in the moment. Here. Look up. Look around. Cast the bird seed with words from the heart and soul, spoken; instantly forgotten, yet always remembered. The Bonnets and hats … Continue reading Llangar Church: Through the Lytchgate.

All Saints Church, Llangar.

Soft, the footfall down the old track, steep, deep, hidden from modernity. Here hazel is tall, reaching skyward to touch the sunlight; the blackthorn and berry grow side by side. Ash shivers in the breeze, while tresses of honeysuckle entwine her. Time. Stands still. Water, softly chatters over stones. Flowing towards the river, unseen, further down the … Continue reading All Saints Church, Llangar.

Shopping with Shh… you-know-who!

In the sleepy land of Avalon, when the mists lie on the slumbering land, three witches meet in that liminal place, where the mundane and the magical marry so well. Under the dark of night, their minds on cursing, they gather to discuss one who, with her mad drunken rages, abusive bullying and crazy stalking, … Continue reading Shopping with Shh… you-know-who!

Pagans Against Plagiarism; a potted history.

International gathering of pagan authors, artists and supporting members dedicated to stamping out copyright theft and plagiarism within the Pagan community at large, through education and frank discussion. In this note, I shall be writing about the founding of this group, the history of how the founding members came together, it’s aims and achievements. I … Continue reading Pagans Against Plagiarism; a potted history.

The man who wasn’t there.

In awe, with out looking I saw him there, before me, Sun blazing at it's Zenith as a halo around his hooded form, hands held out beside him... dripping... (Thus he came to me, silent, waiting.) With out looking I saw the blood dripping, dark, rich red, dripping from the wounds in those hands, dripping … Continue reading The man who wasn’t there.