Christina M. Ward

a free verse poem

You cast stones
lift your curses high,
chanting carried away,
to hide and wait for you…
its return three-fold?
I think no goddess hears you.
It is a barren place,
your circle.

It is my pleasure,
to wipe your sweet nectar from
proboscis and pen,
parts of your soul
digging into mine. (I use it!)
I abuse it, this loving that I must do.
After all, you hate the thing that feeds you.

I am Ophelia.
I will rise, collect wretched daisies
and pass them out one by one,
to gaping faces,
sterile-hearted creatures
that watch me drift downstream
and know not my spirit.

But you! Stone in hand
your anger rises, a fat red circle in the sky.
Your blacks and greys writhe
behind bulging, hollow eyes,
twist inside your vertebrae.
You light your candles fool!
You collect your symbols…
Idolatry! Curses! Hatred!

It is a barren place,
your circle.

I ran into a guy some years ago who professed to be Wiccan, but his “practice” of it was mingled with mental health issues and a gross distortion of what Wicca stands for. Please do NOT consider this poem as a blast of Wicca — it was most certainly not from that place. I am a practicing Christian — and I believe people have every right to believe and practice their faith as they wish. But any time a person is using their religion to do harm to other people — this is not ok with me.

This man heard me make a comment about missing someone I loved who had broken off a relationship with me. The individual I wrote this poem about was so angry at my comment — all I had said was that I missed someone who had meant a lot to me — and this guy lost his marbles. He began calling me all hours of the day and night (I think he thought I was interested in pursuing a relationship with him and I was NOT at all!) cursing me, cursing my name, cursing my children — saying that he had placed an actual curse on me. He then had his WIFE call me and do the same. It was terrifying. They claimed to be calling on all kinds of witchcraft to damn me. He said he was a Warlock with special powers to destroy me.

After this terrifying experience, I wrote this poem as a way to cleanse myself of the anger and fear. I wanted it to be clear that it was not a slamming of any religion or belief system — but more a fit of screaming anger at two seriously crazy people who tried to destroy my spirit. This poem was originally posted on MySpace if that tells you how long ago it was. I stumbled upon the poem today in my files and thought I’d share it. Hopefully, no one will take offense — as it was not intended to be offensive.

Interestingly — I only knew this person for TWO WEEKS!!

Thanks for reading Circles and Stones. I am grateful that poetry can be liberating and help us to heal.

Peace be with you!!