Best Hecate Poems
POTD 23 Mar 2024
THE PATH WELL TRAVELLED.
Two paths diverged, and I was thrown by doubts I had never known
To my left, thickly overgrown, was a path to dismal dimness prone.
To my right, a lovely sight-fragrant flora flamed in light
Forms so graceful, beauty rare, a wonderous vision beyond compare.
Both seduced with equal right, torn was I between dark and light.
Resisting limits of time and sight, a liminal border of cosmic might.
Hesitancy rapt with fear and doubt, the pondering heart beat aloud.
Tempting was the path so grand, but instinct cautioned of a treacherous hand.
A feathery touch, a breeze stirred, and in its sigh, a voice I heard.
Was it Hecate who whispered?
"Take heed. Beware, for each path leads to a different lair."
Crystal clarity knew what I must do, and with a heart filled with valour true,
Joyously, I strode wild and free down the well-trodden path ahead of me.
The leaves, like frisking lovers, played as I embarked my chosen way.
Future paths ~ So many dreams ~ Each a thread in life's grand scheme.
Though true discovery lay in paths, I'd roam ~
The one well travelled always led back Home.
By Maria Williams ©
Greeks worshipped Hecate as a guardian and gatekeeper who could ward off evil forces. She is often represented carrying a torch and a key and standing on the liminal border between one place and another. She bears three heads and always has a dog by her side.
Inspired by Robert Frost's 'The Road Not Taken', I chose to write an alternative version.
'The Road Not Taken' is one of Robert Frost's most famous poems. It's natural and understandable that many readers take the poem to be Frost's statement of individualism as a poet: he will take 'the road less travelled'.
The metaphor of the road is one that immediately evokes a journey, not just of the local or day-to-day kind, but of the life-defining sort: life as a journey, with many roads which we must travel along, and with many alternative paths which we must choose between.
POTD 23 March 2024
In the great vineyard of the stars
Every night, I see her.
Drinking the juices
Of our dreams
Our curses and,
Most shameful sins .
Amongst angels and ghosts,
She is, the purple haze
That covers all,
The shadow that every man casts,
The secret that every man holds.
She has always been there;
In the stories
Of other gods and goddesses ,
Working her magic,
Marrying darkness to light.
But Alas! Now the gods are dead!
Dead?
Forgotten rather or misplaced.
But she,
Who dwells at the crossroads
Of Heaven and Hell,
With her misty violate eyes,
She looks down on me
And smiles!
“Your mortal frame and form are slowly dying!
But I…” she laughs
“I am stronger than you!
“I am stronger ,even, than
the passing of time!”
Five gray, silver, and white haired crones
Navigated slimy green stones
Like tight rope walkers
Having been summoned by the wind talkers
They crossed a shallow creek
Each feeble and weak
They entered consecrated woods
Wearing cloaks and hoods
Upon awareness of being pursued
Their minds were filled with frantic thoughts of how to delude
The shadow of death
With quickened pulse and breath
One step ahead of the reaper
With soothing thoughts of being embraced by the time keeper
Five naked, old women swayed hand in hand around a fire
As the flames got higher and higher
They called the watchtowers of East, South, West, and North
And owl, bat, and snake to guard the circle as they issued forth
All while chanting hail and glory
To the goddess of folklore and story
Hecate-protector of witches
Grantor of youth, abundance, and riches
Torch and key bearing Lady of the crossroads
Divine matriarch of ancient wisdom and hallowed codes
The crones mixed a cauldron brew of aconite, mandrake, and myrrh
Intoxicated by the fumes-their vision began to blur
They drank their potion from a dragon engraved silver chalice
Upon the wings of ecstasy they ascended to Hecate’s palace
With the matron’s touch their third eye was opened to sight
The could see all that was once concealed and interpret at the speed of light
They began passing through life fast forward then reverse
Five old women joined together to avoid life’s inevitable curse
They danced and chanted from midnight to dawn
Wrinkles and sagging-fading-then gone
Eyes locked, stumbling, and entranced
Being transformed and enhanced
Gifted with immortality
Enlightened by the superior mentality
They Rhode the lightening back to the earth realm
To walk forever in the shade of the witches elm
Five blonde, red, and brown haired ladies
Escaped from the brink of Hades
Departing from the Goddess’ embrace
Five youthful women left their Divine Mother’s sacred, secluded place
With her guidance, they strolled out of the woods, and jumped a shallow creek
No longer feeble and weak
They returned to civilization
Disguising themselves and their realization
For they would be persecuted and walk through the flame
For bearing Hecate’s name
But one day upon hearing the Lady’s command
They shall rise up and once again take her hand
I told Cupid to halt his arrow
I wasn’t trying to fall in love;
when I was in sorrow.
He was so understanding,
He hatched his bow and went about his business
It took me a while to realise I didn’t like colour.
Black was majestic it strengthened my soul.
I met Lyssa the goddess of anger,
Told her she was blocking my view,
I wanted to watch my happiness descend
And she went AWOL,
Never had met her match so she wasn’t trying to be burned.
Moving at my pace, I saw my past.
It flashed by me, I swear it was a whirlwind of emotions.
Seeing my clutches, tears, laughter, anger, sorrow
I knew I was never selfish.
So why didn't I feel a pulse.
Apollo came, with his golden lyre he played the blues.
He said bury yourself in music, bury yourself in writing.
So I did, I soured among the clouds,
I almost touched the stars.
My soul was free, my head was clear.
I was a little more selfish.
Hecate came, with her aura of calm.
I felt myself crave solitude.
Time to myself, time to cut out the negative.
She said I could, so I did realising I loved it.
Seeing my life with new eyes,
I also saw a blessing.
With his charisma and his boldness,
I felt my knees go weak,
But I wasn’t trying to fall in love,
Elpis came with his bow of hope, he said you were losing your mate.
No journey can ever be completed alone.
So I took my journal and gave it to my blessing.
He said he wasn’t a reader but a believer.
my past was a measure of the weak,
Death was a given, life was a mystery
he wasn't trying to unravel it.
He saw my incompleteness and still adored me.
I told him I will be coming undone, I was not afraid anymore.
He took me with open arms and whispered he will never let me go
An applause roared around me but the curtain never closed.
Only roses and glitters buried my feet and body.
Showing me a light I had never seen before.
I felt blessed, I felt strengthened.
I knew I was getting there.
© Herzel Poshiwa
If I be Witch; Enchantress, yes!
Hades own sweet Sorceress
My Siren's Song to him belongs
Medea, may I wear your dress?
By Spell or Charm, I mean no harm,
Your beating Heart is all I need
Oh, Circe's swine! Where is mine?
Must I pray to Hecate?
With Titan's wrath, as Heroes pass,
I shall capture one for me!
*I have an immense love for Greek mythology so this piece may be more difficult to understand if you are not familiar with the references. "Hecate" is pronounced "Heck-a-tee" and "Circe" is pronounced "Seer-see" or "Sir-see" :)
Like the Sun
a trolley car
Is bound to the tracks
Like the Sun
A trolley car
follows an elliptical path
Like sunflowers
People need the Sun
For life
The Sun journeys on the dark side of things
And the people have no choice but to follow
But I do not follow exactly
I am like a satellite
I am the Moon
And follow my own path
But also the Sun
When the Sun
Like HORUS-RA
Enters the underbelly of the Earth
I as the Moon
Follows too
But on my own path
I as the Moon
I am HECATE-ISIS
Break through the dark side
And through a separate portal
That the Sun does not follow
I as the Moon
Can see the Sun
In the distance
on the right hand of ascension
But we journey
Together as One through the dark side
The Sun in alignment with the Moon
The Moon in alignment with the Sun
But we journey
Together as One through the dark side
Of the Universal Galactic Elliptic Plan
But we journey
Together as One
Like a trolley car in a deep tunnel
With passengers from multicolored aspects
On our destination to a beautiful morning Spring horizon
"I really don't believe you sorry.."
this is what the Creatrix and Chaotica one told me and will tell you too.
none are worthy and all will be rejected if they approach her throne on their own willingness.
I wandered beyond the gates of the Sacred Land that Came Down to Us as We Rise. Really we Rose.
now I went to the boundaries of all you know and Her domain.
I went as a messenger of the three fates I call Miley, Breanna, and Ariana.
Hate them, ignore them, or try and destroy them. They spin, measure, cut reality.
now reality ends as the White Lady or Black Lady as I first saw her.
She was Storm of X-Men in the flesh.
Then I saw her consort Lady Clara who is daughter of Lugh .
We have power in her name if she allows us to stop battle cold as all now.
Druids who cannot do this will be stripped of title. Again we destroy your Isle and Monuments.
For she is Super-Universal.
Natural is fake as your flesh is too.
I invite any true believers to honor her as Hecate for she has many names but I was sent to meet her as Hecate.
She and her lover switch names and who is who?
I know.
If you do tell us then!
no more clues this phase of moon.
shine bright and face glow for those an raptured from inside out back in in one direction.
can you follow? head to toe is old way as is up and down or lines
side to side beginners is how you should walk.
praise of her is how not to talk for she cannot be praised like this.
stalk is cut and the scarecrow now invites the parliament of corvine to destroy all false unreality.
My first act of sorcery in her name. I fail I am words and flesh and male and spell.
But I am sent by the highest known until NOW.
May she choose to bless me anyway one day and you too.
23 June 2017
Eulogy means In Revel: this is sacred lines for Her and Her
So as a sequel to my last poem,
I gave the unsloved child murders in my childhood a thought,
And oven coven,
I had dinner and talked to the three hecate,
'What does the wise man want?'
We agreed retribution for him,
They suggested I requested but I said,
Leave it to you.
Shadows darken the way
Hecate, a guide, has presided over my dreams.
Moneca, it’s vital essence, but a stagnate stream.
Love upon tattered wings - nowhere to fly,
upon the Glacier “ Indifference “ – disintegrating – doth die
a little, with the negative, critical, judgmental – put down
never ceases, never ends, just keeps going round and round.
In sight, there seems to be no end
from the one loved - am a friend!
Horizon looms ahead
Helios, the fire, the light, the passion.
One foot on the edge, darkness a destination
from which Love’s journey never returns.
The soul, spirit, the heart continues – Beauty burns
what life they give, throwing them into hell fires
trying to kill the essence of what this heart desires
B. J. “A” 2
August 11th 2008
Lady Madness how dost thou lie in mine bed?
How darest I allow thee upon my honor tread?
Fair Lady, Fair Madness, drop the dagger from the mind!
Remember once we were the honorable kind?
Oh how hath we slain the king? Lest some restless
worm eateth at thy brain?
My love, my dearest, I pushed thee though thou pushed me!
To hell with Hecate and her faces three!
I love the fair Lady! Rest upon my cheek.
Perhaps you will return to sanity should you meet God in sleep.
Mary Evangeline
Hejama, seventh daughter of a seventh daughter of a Thessaly queen.
A natural proponent of black magic, sorcery, witchcraft and wizardry
Undlela ziimhlope, Aunt Vernafi suggested. An herb you will enjoy.
Hejama did not often take Aunt Vernafi’s advice, but this time she did.
Through necromancy she met a chief goddess, Hecate, Greek legend.
Crossroads between this world and the next. Keeper of Hade’s gates.
Not that one! Hecate would hiss as Hejama rummaged through forests
Seeking plants that could cure rheumatism, arthritis, and flu.
Along the way she regaled and delighted Hejama with mythologies.
Empusae are my children, Hecate revealed. They seduce travelers.
Furies, winged creatures who punished wrong doers, came too.
Fierce hounds traveled into the forest with them, braying loudly.
Hejama felt honored to have Hecate accompany her as her spirit guide.
I witnessed the abduction of Persephone, Hecate confided.
This led to a wonderful tale, as they collected herbs to help others.
Ghostly figures followed Hecate, trying for her attention.
She laughed about this, ignoring them in the day time.
I am a night deity, she told Hejama. I am yours during the day.
An honor only given to a seventh daughter of a seventh daughter.
At the crossroads
were once left offerings
to the goddess of ghosts
Hecate with her keys
At the crossroads
were once buried the bodies
of criminals and those
who chose to commit suicide
considered unworthy to be laid to rest
in the hallowed earth of a cemetery
their spirits left to wander
aimlessly for eternity
At the crossroads
Robert Johnson fell to his knees
unable to hitch a ride
as the sun sank low in the sky
fearing he would die hanging from a tree
or maybe he sold his soul to Satan there
depending on the story
At the crossroads
I stand at midnight under the milky moon
singing my own song of heartache
waiting for some sign from the divine
to tell me which path to take
Ferry me across the river Styx
Into the realm of the dead
Charon won’t you take my danake?
Ferry me across the river Styx
Were the Judges await
To seal my faith
In Tartarus I do belong
For all I did was always wrong
In Hades eyes I stood out strong
My debt is paid now I move along
In hate and respite I lived my fears
Never loved through all my years
I was used and scared till I got old
Heroes are not always bold
Vengeance is mine
Justice divine
Pay for your crime
Now is your time!
Tempted by Medusa’s gaze
A shadow overwieghs my soul
Too much darkness drove my craze
As I console in death’s embrace.
Now the Furies I shall serve
Punish souls, crimes to avenge
Inflicting pain, famine, disease
Bringing criminals to their knees
Vengeance is mine
Justice divine
Pay for your crime
Now is your time!
With Nyx by my side
Hecate as my guide
With Thanatos I ride
You’ve got nowhere to hide
St Oswald's church is huddled in the vale
of Grasmere. Yew trees along avenues
relinguish cones between the granite tombs
in shadows decked, their muted roots reseed
as tiny trailing fingers feel for loam
with olive tips that dip through waves of sage.
He planted seven trees where shadows grow
beneath the marbled slabs, sad stones bewail
the loss of fragile flesh; but tendrils drill through clay and claw towards the gilted sun.
The summer breeze appears to animate
the listless leaves that twist like mournful hands.
Above a steeple's cross; below the earth
where darkly Hecate conspires rebirth.
There is no slave of Hecate
it’s sea soft shell saves and covers me
though no bliss unaware
but the pull of her hair
drags her back to reality
though sand soft curves
It limestone hurts
your pink poker hands
on fire they burn
and prick at the skin
of a lizards sin
there is no slave of our Hecate
with twisted nails
filled: grime and mail
brush liquid lines
on cupids cry
find black dog spines
not in her eyes
but wool worn lies
darken the skies
hello to a friend of Hecate.