I Used to be Christian, Now...I'm a magician who turned from Jesus' waysI was Christian raised, that was all I knewBut now I am not in Christian graceThis is how I stopped my pilgrim's progress:A few years agoas I normally wouldI went to the libraryto read a good book.I saw some pagan books all in a row,I didn't touch any but they touched me.They weren't new and they didn't glow,but I was moved by the taboo and had to know.How can some really believe,that spirits and magic literally exist?Adepts must secretly grin and nudge each otherWhen a neophyte walks in to ask "Can I be your brother?".Later in life as my questions grew,my questions were elephants in the room.My fellow Christians did not like to hear:Other religions? Pleasure? Evolution?Instead of preparing apologiesI decided to learn astrology.And suddenly I was in the world anew,where magic was real but nobody knew!Mars and venus where my new guides,instead of Paul and Matthew, full of lies.Lies? That's harsh I know, rather I should
Practice_1A green beetle buzzed up to a group of butterflies dining on a thick, fat rose."Oh miss butterflies how fine you look to-day!" The green beetle said, having rubbed his fleshy wings extra hard only moments before."There is rain coming!" The Monarch said.The Skipper and the Moth flew away, the Skipper in search of love and the Moth in search of light, while the Monarch stayed near the green beetle."Oh rain is a pain for us! But even more so for the blue worms which are wrought of mud, eat mud, and die in mud!" The Beetle shook his wings and surveyed the scene while perched on a single petal."Oh butterfly!""Yes?""Oh I love you butterfly! I love you!""Yes?""Oh please come back to my lair! The rain is coming and, look there! No, beyond that ridge, yes see? There are a line of ants marching up this way and they have a warrant for my arrest!""Then let us go indeed to your lair, sweet green lover."The Monarch spread her regal wings and thrust up off into the dusty air where she swir
PrincipalsPrincipalsPrincipals wane but do not fadeAs real life shifts but remains everpresentAll the pain of fantasy handmadeBegs the question: Are you manmade?
AdvantageAdvantageI wish I had a secret advantageOver the rest of my fellow humans,That would render me flawless and without failings,Except for the fashionable onesBut my failures are all but vogue,For I am an unfashionable rouge,I'll steal and I'll swear, I'll lie and I'll run,But charity! I have none. All kindness of mine is but for vanity.The writing on the wall is for me not youI am simply flattered to have it addressed with my name.Dull that I cannot foresee impending pain, but youWho does not see but suspects what will to me befallTruth! It is not with prophet's skill that I divineThis impending fate of which is wholly mineBut every criminal alone possesses that particular deviceBy which the broken know they will eventually fall!And though alone yet still with many othersI suspect that we will discoverEven between the lot of us allOur short change will not pay for one, let alone all.