Take the quiz: "What'>http://www.zenhex.com/quiz.php?id=989">"What Celtic Diety are you?"
The Triple Goddess
(Pan-Celtic) The Triple Goddess is known and worshipped in Pagan cultures the world over. She is eternal, yet always changing. Like the moon which represents her, she shows a different face throughout her eternal cycle, yet she is always the same moon. At once she's the Maiden, Mother, and Crone, the creatrix who births all things into being, who devours all at its ending, and who provides life anew when the cycle begins again.Many different colors are attributed to her, but in Celtic Paganism they are white for the Maiden, red for the Mother, and black for the Crone. Throughout the Celtic lands many ancient remnants of her preeminence remain. One of the best examples survives at Corleck, County Cavan, Ireland, where an ancient and weathered stone is carved with three faces. Each face looks out to a different direction
Saturday, August 28, 2004
Monday, August 23, 2004
Sunday, August 01, 2004
five words of a gothic tone
my friend, M, that i exchange books and five words with is a great fan of gothic literature, most notably Edgar Allen Poe. he lent me a book called "gothic tales" compiled by chris baldrick,oxford library edition, i believe. it is a very good read. i highly recommend it. anyway, M prefers his gothic stories during the fall yet, he has introduced the five words in a gothic theme for our mental exercise. following are the first couple submissions i gave from the words he gave me. more will follow soon.
LYCEUM DEEPENING ASUNDER DANK EERIE
her resolve deepening with every breath, she stepped into the mausoleum. her footfalls echoed on the ground, reminding her of descending into the large, empty lyceum where she would meet her husband. she had the eerie sensation that she wasn't alone. as she approached him she noticed that he looked like he was only sleeping. she brushed the hair from his forehead and remarked that his skin was still warm. she lie down next to him and swallowed the poison she had hidden in her gown. let no man put asunder, she thought..."not even death" she whispered. with her last gasp of the dank, stale air she thought that she had felt his arms around her.
GRAVE SCARIFY IMPATIENT FLAW BOUND
the graven, scarified mess of clay that once was a testament of love to the immortal beauty in his dreams was made flawed by angry, violent hands. he looked down at his own hands, speckled and encrusted with clay that should have been pristine, as visions of the vile deed darkened his eyes.
he knew now that he was eternally bound to this impatient, animal dreamself. with a shudder of horror, it came to him that he had always known.
PESTILENT SHREWD DARKNESS UNDER COOL
i do not long for the pestilent, shrewd stare of the sun. instead, i wait for the cloak of darkness to fall when i will languish in the grass like ophelia, under the cool gaze of a million enraptured stars.
AUTUMN EDDIES MASON CRACK DIM
her favorite time to walk was always in the evening. she would stroll to a low wall made by an ancient mason ages ago where she'd sit and finger a crack in the stone now filled with cool, velvety moss. she would lie with her head on the moss watching the autumn leaves dance and swirl in the eddies. she watched as the sun's dimming light made the leaves glow like sparks from a fire. she lay there watching, thinking how wonderful it must be to just swirl.
CRAMOISIE PROPITIATE DOCK GRAVEN CLOAK
she was standing in a field of thistle and crimson blooming dock when he saw her in the distance ahead. as he approached her his voice froze in his throat and his face became graven and green with shock as his mind tried to make sense of the sudden carnage in his path.
she turned towards him and lowered the hood of her cloak. cold, unhuman eyes met his and he knew that no amount of propitiating pleas would help him now. he felt her warm, blooded lips on his and his mind went numb. everything before before his eyes became a scarlet monotone; the crimson dock at his feet, her cramoisie cloak that seemed to envelop them both, and the blood spurting that fell like rain upon his face.
BRISK FLIVVER VAMP CRISP CHANGE
the crisp, crackling leaves seems to be the only sound on my walk this evening. the wind begins to change, becoming a bit more brisk, as i stop to feel its caress.
but my time of enchantment ends far too quickly as i hear his revamped old flivver sputtering up the road to fetch me home.
FETID ILLUMINATION PASTY STILETTO OBSIDIAN
the foul, fetid smell was coming from behind an ivy covered door that the new mistress had never seen before. curiousity overcame her as she pushed the ivy aside and pulled the latch on the door. it swung open easily and quietly but the sudden stench that emerged violated her senses making her stumble back. she collected herself and took a step forward into the hallway. the faint illumination cast a glow across a figure at the end of the passageway. she froze in horror at the sight of the nude, mutilated body hanging from the wall. her eyes fixed on the shining stiletto protruding from the captive's pasty chest as she moved closer and looked into the dead obsidian eyes of the former mistress of the house.
LACONIC VOLUBLE PRAGMATIST NADIR SHAFT
the normally laconic woman couldn't seem to stop herself from babbling. the voluble stream of disconnected words did not come from the mind of the pragmatist that she had always been. they came from a woman at her nadir with only a shaft of light to illuminate her madness.
LYCEUM DEEPENING ASUNDER DANK EERIE
her resolve deepening with every breath, she stepped into the mausoleum. her footfalls echoed on the ground, reminding her of descending into the large, empty lyceum where she would meet her husband. she had the eerie sensation that she wasn't alone. as she approached him she noticed that he looked like he was only sleeping. she brushed the hair from his forehead and remarked that his skin was still warm. she lie down next to him and swallowed the poison she had hidden in her gown. let no man put asunder, she thought..."not even death" she whispered. with her last gasp of the dank, stale air she thought that she had felt his arms around her.
GRAVE SCARIFY IMPATIENT FLAW BOUND
the graven, scarified mess of clay that once was a testament of love to the immortal beauty in his dreams was made flawed by angry, violent hands. he looked down at his own hands, speckled and encrusted with clay that should have been pristine, as visions of the vile deed darkened his eyes.
he knew now that he was eternally bound to this impatient, animal dreamself. with a shudder of horror, it came to him that he had always known.
PESTILENT SHREWD DARKNESS UNDER COOL
i do not long for the pestilent, shrewd stare of the sun. instead, i wait for the cloak of darkness to fall when i will languish in the grass like ophelia, under the cool gaze of a million enraptured stars.
AUTUMN EDDIES MASON CRACK DIM
her favorite time to walk was always in the evening. she would stroll to a low wall made by an ancient mason ages ago where she'd sit and finger a crack in the stone now filled with cool, velvety moss. she would lie with her head on the moss watching the autumn leaves dance and swirl in the eddies. she watched as the sun's dimming light made the leaves glow like sparks from a fire. she lay there watching, thinking how wonderful it must be to just swirl.
CRAMOISIE PROPITIATE DOCK GRAVEN CLOAK
she was standing in a field of thistle and crimson blooming dock when he saw her in the distance ahead. as he approached her his voice froze in his throat and his face became graven and green with shock as his mind tried to make sense of the sudden carnage in his path.
she turned towards him and lowered the hood of her cloak. cold, unhuman eyes met his and he knew that no amount of propitiating pleas would help him now. he felt her warm, blooded lips on his and his mind went numb. everything before before his eyes became a scarlet monotone; the crimson dock at his feet, her cramoisie cloak that seemed to envelop them both, and the blood spurting that fell like rain upon his face.
BRISK FLIVVER VAMP CRISP CHANGE
the crisp, crackling leaves seems to be the only sound on my walk this evening. the wind begins to change, becoming a bit more brisk, as i stop to feel its caress.
but my time of enchantment ends far too quickly as i hear his revamped old flivver sputtering up the road to fetch me home.
FETID ILLUMINATION PASTY STILETTO OBSIDIAN
the foul, fetid smell was coming from behind an ivy covered door that the new mistress had never seen before. curiousity overcame her as she pushed the ivy aside and pulled the latch on the door. it swung open easily and quietly but the sudden stench that emerged violated her senses making her stumble back. she collected herself and took a step forward into the hallway. the faint illumination cast a glow across a figure at the end of the passageway. she froze in horror at the sight of the nude, mutilated body hanging from the wall. her eyes fixed on the shining stiletto protruding from the captive's pasty chest as she moved closer and looked into the dead obsidian eyes of the former mistress of the house.
LACONIC VOLUBLE PRAGMATIST NADIR SHAFT
the normally laconic woman couldn't seem to stop herself from babbling. the voluble stream of disconnected words did not come from the mind of the pragmatist that she had always been. they came from a woman at her nadir with only a shaft of light to illuminate her madness.
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