Mabh Savage
Words and the world passing by; how it sings to me; how I clamour back.
Platinum Crumbs
I shower then dry off
My armpits carefully
Soaking up each drop of moisture
With a scratchy towel
Ready for more moisture
Drying and soothing
Only to be rolled over
With wet, smelly goo,
Designed to keep my
Sweat at bay
Roll over my skin and
Keep my offensive nature
At bay.
While in the Houses and Palaces
They dry our tears with flags
And jewels
And fires
And prizes
And patriotism
Ready to roll over us
With crushing
Austerity
Prejudice
Rights for one
But not for that one
Division
Cutting us like a trifle
Like a platinum pudding
Where the Houses get a bowlful
And we get the crumbs.
I clutch my towel
Dab at the tears in my eyes
Grit my teeth
And carry on.
Birds at Bealtaine
Bealtaine 2022
As is traditional, we started our Bealtaine celebrations last night. Bealtaine, never Beltane, to honour the very living Irish traditions (and language!) the word comes from. Yes, I’ve called it Beltane in the past. No, I shouldn’t have done. When you know better, you do better, right?
One of the kids has a birthday shortly so we were busy sorting out a sleepover and celebrations. The house was full, and everyone was already in a celebratory mood. Us grownups made a safe spot for ourselves in the kitchen and toasted many wonderful things, celebrating our life with drink and music. We played guitar, sang, and ate.
Today, it’s been grey and damp, but the air is so fresh and the weather mild enough that I’m sat writing this in the garden in just joggers and a t-shirt. I can hear blackbirds, goldfinches, starlings, and have seen magpies and wood pigeons, and many sparrows. The dandelions have bloomed ferocious and yellow and now closed again. There is a sense that “sumer is icumen in”, perhaps not quite here but certainly just around the corner. I have more to do: sacred space to clean, candles to light, commitments to follow through on. But after a hectic night and day, it’s nice to pause and listen to the birds this Bealtaine. They know what they’re doing; oh to have that same confidence of purpose, and lightness of being.
Merry Bealtaine to all who celebrate.
Earth Day 2022
Did you know Earth Day has been celebrated since 1970? Earth Day reminds people once a year that our planet needs us to be stewards, to be custodians, to protect and care for the planet as well as we can.
My new book, Practically Pagan: An Alternative Guide to Planet Friendly Living, addresses this in terms of spirituality – making small changes to the way Pagans and other spiritual folks practice their daily faith rituals, from the ethical sourcing of tools to not trampling the countryside in search of peace. Of course, people of all faith paths (or none) can and should take action to look after our planet, and to halt the progress of climate change before it’s too late. Small daily changes you can make include:
- If you’re able, walk short distances instead of driving
- Contact your local MP on community environmental issues, such as the closure or destruction of parks and other green spaces
- Vote Green or vote for the representative that supports the most ethical and planet friendly policies – always check that whoever you vote for isn’t just greenwashing i.e. ineffective green policies or using environmental policies to distract from other, not great policies!
- Recycle whatever you can
- Reuse whatever you can – I’m not advocating filling your house with rubbish, but so many jars, bottles, pieces of fabric from clothes that can’t be donated, and even cardboard boxes can get practically “upcycled” rather than ending up in landfill
- Compost
- Feed the birds
- Grow flowers or let native plants flourish to help bees and other insects
- Follow the countryside code e.g. stay on paths in wooded areas to protect wildlife
- Switch lights off
- Turn devices off where possible
- Lobby corporations with poor environmental policies – sign petitions, send letters, or simply act with your wallet by refusing to buy from companies that act in bad faith when it comes to protecting our world
What will you do this Earth Day and beyond to help make a difference to our planet? She really needs our help!
P.S. the link to my book above is for the Amazon Kindle e-book but if you boycott Amazon you can also buy it at UK Bookshop.org, an organization that ensures independent bookstores in the UK get a fair cut.
Organizations doing great work for the environment and nature:
Please feel free to leave ideas and links to other organisations in the comments. Happy Earth Day!
That Little Laugh
No doubt you’ve seen us
The mischief makers
Followers of a chaotic
Maelstrom of love
A little smirk on our faces
A little laugh, perhaps
As we listen to words only
We can hear
Rocks and sweets and toys
In our pockets
No we don’t all have kids
But we all care for something
Maybe there’s a hint of cinnamon
A scratch of flint
A side eye across
An empty room
A hastily scribbled rune
On the back of a bus ticket
A snake tattoo
Or simply a nod
To the brightest star
You definitely know us
You’ve seen us around
We’ve seen you too
And so have They.
I Am, I Will Be Drunk
Content warning: mentions of intoxication and drinking alcohol
Charles Baudelaire,
He said be drunk
I know what he means
I do.
To be drunk on
“Wine or poetry or virtue”
Oh how I would love
To make you drunk on poetry
To feed you my words
Shot by shot
Fiery and sweet like absinthe
Green like envy
Slipping acidly down
Your gullet.
Hot like love
Like love like sweet, dark love
Wrapping around your tongue
In every language
A polyglot of emotion.
Speak to me, speak to me
Tell me are you drunk yet?
Drunk on phrasing,
Innuendo, entendres double
And beyond
A polycule of hidden meanings
Or not so hidden
A flash of cleavage
In a dusky speakeasy.
I’m going to tell you
A secret though
I’m already drunk
Drunk on your presence
Your easy love
Not easy as in
Obtainable
Available
Or even
For-saleable
But easy to be in,
To lose myself in
Freely given in return for
Worship and offerings
And words, words, words
Takk fyrir
Loki
My mead, my wine, my drunken heart
Spinning like a head after a
Significant birthday party
My salt-rimmed sweet and sour treat
Cynical and adoring
In equal measures (50 ml)
I know what he meant,
Be drunk, always be drunk
On divinity, on cosmic wonder
On you.
Lokean Beads
Contains UPG.
My husband took a liking to kombolois while we were in Rhodes last year. I bought him one from a Greek merchant, crafted from pieces of volcanic rock. I later felt that special niggling feeling you get when something close to you wants something – maybe it’s time to refill the glasses on the altar, or draw a card… but in this instance, there was the very strong feeling that Loki would also like some similar beads.
I’d never considered making prayer beads, although I had seen some beautiful ones crafted by other members of the community. The komboloi is, as far as I know, not particularly religious but more of a set of worry beads, for fidgeting with to alleviate anxiety, or simply for fun. I agreed to make some for Loki, and had a couple of great moments during the process.
I bought the beads and thread from an Etsy seller. She included, for free, two tiny “S” shaped decorative pieces that looked very snake-like! I’d ordered blue thread, but she threw in some gorgeous rainbow thread that, of course, was what I ended up using.
I’m really pleased with the finished result which now resides on Loki’s altar, and I do use them as part of my practice – so they have, after all, become prayer beads. What do you think?
Moon Day Mondays
Waxing Crescent – First Quarter
Last night it seemed so bright and strong
A bow of light
A bower capable of
Lifting the world
As I glided home along motorways
Lokabrenna searing my eyes
By my side the whole way
Orion’s companion
A torch of hope and clarity.
Today I feel like the curvy deliciousness
Though fatter and seemingly firmer
Is a fragile beast
Barely keeping together
Fighting through clouds
Of miscommunication
Battling light pollution
Too many egos
Too many cooks
Spoiling the broth
Putting salt instead of sugar
In my already weak tea
What a baffling phase this is
Tentative and changeable
Sat upon its curve and swinging, swinging
A hopelessly beautiful hammock
Oh just let me sleep.
Shouting Fire
I want to shout it out
From the top of a
Mountain
Skyscraper
Geyser
Aeroplane in flight
Hang suspended in the clouds
Shouting fire
Upon the unsuspecting.
Fire of inspiration
Hope
Passion
Creativity
Just make something
Make something make something
Make me something then
Share it
Share it with the world
I want to shout it out
From a falcon’s wings
Slowly and inexorable
Fanning flames
That both destroy and protect
From caught in a spider’s web
Eight legs sacred
And well remembered
Shouting fire that
Not so much burns
As cures
Like a pot in the kiln
Possibly a little cracked
From time to time
Glazed
Inappropriately
Yet hard and unyielding
Ready to be filled
Ready to pour
Ready to be exactly as useful
As I want to be.
Imbolg
Brigid came on the wind
Blessing the brat bhríde
Soaking it with cool rain
Not quite winter waters
Not quite springtime showers
Tears from that in-between
Liminal state of season
A grief, a keening for the darkness
Slowly washing away
In the inevitable turn
Of the Earth.
She stroked gentle fingers
Down the cloths hanging
From trees, posts, baskets
Sprawled on Hawthorn
Or tucked into cracks
Waiting for her blessing
Draped in hope and faith
Those gentle fingers
Bely great power
Surging fire and weight
Filling smiths and poets
With inspiration that burns
Like the forge fire
The wind her bellows
Pumping, coaxing
Drawing out something new
Something new for Imbolg.
Great Brigid
Do you coax forward
The snowdrops too?
The first lambs, staggering,
Uncertain and fragile
Yet joyous in life
As we are before
Your mighty presence?
Always
I was always falling for you
My whole life
Sometimes dancing so close to the edge
Hearing the call
Of your tales
Both terrible and comic
I felt for you
Like no other
I fell for you
Little by little
You guided my empathy
As I grew
I always protected
Defended the underdog
The one the others
Turned against
My foundational ethics
However dubious
Came from you
As I orbited
The rim of the cave
For twenty years or more
I denied myself this
Until even my other guides
Raised a metaphysical eyebrow
Pushing me, gently yet inexorably
Into your embrace.
You transform me
You burn away
The echoes of doubt
You shrug until I stand
On my own two feet
And we both laugh
When I stumble
In a matter of days
You helped me take
Myself less seriously
So much less
Than ever before.
You made me humble and proud
All at the same time
Worth so much more
Than this coffee
(Milk two sugars)
I bring you each morning
And the spiced mead
We drink together
At night.
I was always
On my way here
And falling never felt so much like
Flying.
Mabh Savage 