To be only eleven years old, I am facing a crisis involving life and death
I should be care free, able to enjoy my childhood, but my childhood would be
taken away from me
I watch others my age play, the last thing on their mind is taking their last
breath
From what plagues my body, I so wish I could flee.

This plague in my body, robs me of being able to run and play
So all I can do is sit and watch others as they play just wishing it were me
My plague robs me of the ability to breathe, always coughing, to escape, there
is no way
At this age, I should not have to pay this tremendous fee.

What I have is very contagious, so most of the time I am all alone
No one should have to be looking at the grim reaper face to face at my age
Everyday I hope when I awake from sleep, this awful thing will be gone
This plague causes me to feel hatred and rage.

My parents try and make my existence as comfortable as they can
As I spend my days trying to just breathe
From this awful thing children should be banned
Why oh why from me doesn't this plague just leave?

I overheard my parents talking, as for my own good, they are going to send me
away
They think this will be the best thing for me
But they don't know if they send me away, with them, I will not spend another
day
Here I will die, meeting death, so regretting the hand that fate had dealt to
me.

My plague is known as tuberculosis, the plague of the twentieth century, from
this thing so many would die
My parents really think I will survive because I have such a strong will
But my plague would totally ravage my small body, in a short while we would say
good bye
With my best interest in mind, they just don't know, as they send me away to
Waverly Hills

Lsnaia Lee

MyPara Paranormal Social Network:
--------------------

Come join me on MyPara Paranormal Social Network!

Lanaia Lee

Click the link below to Join:
http://www.mypara.net/?xgi=2emvaKQd9Es3Mr

If your email program doesn't recognize the web address above as an active link,
please copy and paste it into your web browser

--------------------

Members already on MyPara Paranormal Social Network
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--------------------

About MyPara Paranormal Social Network
Paranormal social network that connects people who are interested in hauntings
and ghosts. Upload videos, blogs, and have a custom profile.

2956 members
1824 photos
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366 videos
1010 discussions
29 Events
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[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

blessings love and healing

--- In PaganPoetsSociety@yahoogroups.com, "lanaia74" <lanaia74@...> wrote:
>
> To be only eleven years old, I am facing a crisis involving life and death
> I should be care free, able to enjoy my childhood, but my childhood would be
taken away from me
> I watch others my age play, the last thing on their mind is taking their last
breath
> From what plagues my body, I so wish I could flee.
>
> This plague in my body, robs me of being able to run and play
> So all I can do is sit and watch others as they play just wishing it were me
> My plague robs me of the ability to breathe, always coughing, to escape, there
is no way
> At this age, I should not have to pay this tremendous fee.
>
> What I have is very contagious, so most of the time I am all alone
> No one should have to be looking at the grim reaper face to face at my age
> Everyday I hope when I awake from sleep, this awful thing will be gone
> This plague causes me to feel hatred and rage.
>
> My parents try and make my existence as comfortable as they can
> As I spend my days trying to just breathe
> From this awful thing children should be banned
> Why oh why from me doesn't this plague just leave?
>
> I overheard my parents talking, as for my own good, they are going to send me
away
> They think this will be the best thing for me
> But they don't know if they send me away, with them, I will not spend another
day
> Here I will die, meeting death, so regretting the hand that fate had dealt to
me.
>
> My plague is known as tuberculosis, the plague of the twentieth century, from
this thing so many would die
> My parents really think I will survive because I have such a strong will
> But my plague would totally ravage my small body, in a short while we would
say good bye
> With my best interest in mind, they just don't know, as they send me away to
Waverly Hills
>
> Lsnaia Lee
>

holding on to what I know
holding on to the past
holding on to you so tight
I am bound by hidden chains

letting go of what I know
letting go of the past
letting go of my hold on you
hidden chains do drop away

placing trust in what I know
placing trust in lessons learnt
placing trust you and your wisdom
I grow and find freedom to be me

Goddess and God of life
blessings and thanks
for guiding me

Cara

Through my Father's Eyes

In this earthly visit that I am making;
I see little giving and a lot of taking:

Many seem to still be of the thinking;
Get as much as they can without blinking:

Some have the opinion giving to others is better;
They said they got the idea from a certain Love Letter:

When asked what this Letter spoke about;
The answer was to have faith without doubt:

Won't you join the happy throng and not listen to lies;
Look at life through my Father's eyes.

The Cosmic Cowboy
10/04/09

Sam Willey – 10/16 – Friday at 7:30 pm EST - UFO-Radio -www.ufo-radio.net

  Haunted Voices Network  internet radio – Friday, 10/16 9Pm EST



Lanaia here be sure to listen in my new book Skulls of Salvation pre-order today

thanks and hugs

Once love came from no where,
Appeared to me so real….

The color of the sky was pleasant,
Winds were more gentle and lenient.

Sure signs for arrival of blooming season,
My heart went along with the celebration.

A pale mysterious voice whispered...

A caution or congratulation?

It brought the passion, magic slides
Along with dreamy songs, moon walks….

Eyes were sparking with unknown light,
Presence of love contented my day and night.

My flowers of the garden forgotten to weep,
My book of sadness went for a deep sleep.

Days became more promising and welcoming,

Obsession or reality?

Then love disappeared like never there,
left with the promise of forever care…

Only when I noticed the color of falls were already arrived,
My treasure boxes were empty without love, dreams, and pride.

But for sake of heart- breaks how many souls ever died?
Rather they became Master of their own after paid the price.

Seasons were temporary, changes were so certain but life was only one.

To live or to die.

Note: Please let me know your honest feedback

Thanks
Dipa

Lanaia Lee on blogtalkradio

JAMES HAARP, SUNDAY, 10/18 – 8PM EST - 646-915-9020



be sure and tune in

Ok folks here is my first post...
                  the               Folk

  Rev.fr.Rick(Budda)Ross




Since the dawn of time they've been around,
Traveling from each village, tribe and town.
  From the oceans west, to the setting sun,
They follow the beat of a lonely drum.
  They gather in, their sacred places,
Joy and love beam from all their faces.
  They bask in the love of the ancient ones,
And thank the gods for their daughters and sons.
  Then there she stands straight and proud,
Daughter of the gods, in her sacred shroud.
  She calls to the folk from eons past,
To watch over the people as the circle is cast.
  She summons earth, water, fire and air ,
And ancient spirits from everywhere.
   The woman's voice is loud and clear,
As she asks the Gods to join them there.
   As they raise the power to do their deed,
The drum now beats with amazing speed.
   When the power has grown, ready to take wing.
The folk release it to do it's thing.
    Their will is done, so mote it be,
  They end the night with food and mead.

I'm your biggest fan.  It's good to see you here.
 
Phoenix

--- On Fri, 10/23/09, Budda <Budda@...> wrote:


From: Budda <Budda@...>
Subject: [Pagan Poets Society] The folk
To: PaganPoetsSociety@yahoogroups.com
Date: Friday, October 23, 2009, 9:43 AM


 



Ok folks here is my first post...
the Folk

Rev.fr.Rick( Budda)Ross

Since the dawn of time they've been around,
Traveling from each village, tribe and town.
From the oceans west, to the setting sun,
They follow the beat of a lonely drum.
They gather in, their sacred places,
Joy and love beam from all their faces.
They bask in the love of the ancient ones,
And thank the gods for their daughters and sons.
Then there she stands straight and proud,
Daughter of the gods, in her sacred shroud.
She calls to the folk from eons past,
To watch over the people as the circle is cast.
She summons earth, water, fire and air ,
And ancient spirits from everywhere.
The woman's voice is loud and clear,
As she asks the Gods to join them there.
As they raise the power to do their deed,
The drum now beats with amazing speed.
When the power has grown, ready to take wing.
The folk release it to do it's thing.
Their will is done, so mote it be,
They end the night with food and mead.

















__________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
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The Dream Quest One Poetry & Writing Contest
<http://www.dreamquestone.com/>  is open to anyone who loves arranging
words into the beautiful art of poetry or writing a short story that is
worth telling everyone! And to all who have the ability to dream…
Write a poem or short story for a chance to win cash prizes. All works
must be original. http://www.dreamquestone.com
<http://www.dreamquestone.com/>

Guidelines: <http://www.dreamquestone.com/rules.html>

Write a poem, thirty lines or fewer on any subject, style, or form,
typed or neatly hand printed.

And/or write a short story, five pages maximum length, on any subject or
theme, creative writing fiction or non-fiction (including essay
compositions, diary, journal entries and screenwriting). Also, must be
typed or neatly hand printed.

Multiple poetry and short story entries are accepted.

Postmark deadline: December 31, 2009

All contest winners will be announced on January 31, 2010

Prizes:

Writing Contest First Prize is $500. Second Prize: $250. Third Prize:
$100.

Poetry Contest First Prize is $250. Second Prize: $125. Third Prize:
$50.

Entry fees:

$10 per story.

$5 per poem.

To send entries: Include title(s) with your story (ies) or poem(s),
along with your name, address, phone#, email, brief biographical info.
(Tell us a little about yourself), on the coversheet. Add a
self-addressed stamped envelope for entry confirmation. Fees payable to:
"DREAMQUESTONE.COM"

Mail to:

Dream Quest One

Poetry & Writing Contest

P.O. Box 3141

Chicago, IL 60654

Visit http://www.dreamquestone.com <http://www.dreamquestone.com/>  for
further details.
No one who achieves success does so without acknowledging the help of
others. The wise and confident acknowledge this help with gratitude.
"And remember, in whatever you do, it's okay to dream, for
dreams do come true." –Dream Quest One


[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Very Beautiful Da

--- In PaganPoetsSociety@yahoogroups.com, "Budda" <Budda@...> wrote:
>
> Ok folks here is my first post...
>                  the               Folk
>
>  Rev.fr.Rick(Budda)Ross
>
>
>
>
> Since the dawn of time they've been around,
> Traveling from each village, tribe and town.
>  From the oceans west, to the setting sun,
> They follow the beat of a lonely drum.
>  They gather in, their sacred places,
> Joy and love beam from all their faces.
>  They bask in the love of the ancient ones,
> And thank the gods for their daughters and sons.
>  Then there she stands straight and proud,
> Daughter of the gods, in her sacred shroud.
>  She calls to the folk from eons past,
> To watch over the people as the circle is cast.
>  She summons earth, water, fire and air ,
> And ancient spirits from everywhere.
>   The woman's voice is loud and clear,
> As she asks the Gods to join them there.
>   As they raise the power to do their deed,
> The drum now beats with amazing speed.
>   When the power has grown, ready to take wing.
> The folk release it to do it's thing.
>    Their will is done, so mote it be,
>  They end the night with food and mead.
>

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Please take a moment to read our message. Thank you.


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Graveyard Publishing will be doing a compilation of real life paranormal
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Samhain Ancestors

We have no control over
who our  ancestors were.
We are of their blood
flesh
spirit.

They could  have been loving
generous
alcoholic
distant

Look in the  mirror.
Do you see the real you?
You are an ancestor.
Is your life  today.
The best memory?

On a future Samhain
will someone be  sad?
Will you be missed?
Are you an ancestor
you want in your  life?

October 30,  2005
DancingStar




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Preview: Mint Juleps, Mud Pie and MacBeth

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By - Bronwen Forbes

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Quilt of Life

Just like a fancy homemade quilt, our life should be sewn together with love,
We have horizontal strips, we have vertical strips that fit like a hand and
glove;
With God as the center of our 'quilt', we'll always have all the pieces fit
tight;
All the colors, bold and bright, match very well with the background of white.

As the shell of the quilt protects the inside, our shield can protect us from
harm,
When we trim the extra fabric away, it makes the rest right, like down on the
farm;
Let God form the pieces and get the edges just so, it will make your 'quilt'
just right;
He will set the fabric of your life straight, then make the binding all nice and
tight.
                                                 The Cosmic Cowboy
                                                     11/22/09

The Dream Quest One Poetry & Writing Contest
<http://www.dreamquestone.com/>  is open to anyone who loves arranging
words into the beautiful art of poetry or writing a short story that is
worth telling everyone! And to all who have the ability to dream…
Write a poem or short story for a chance to win cash prizes. All works
must be original. http://www.dreamquestone.com
<http://www.dreamquestone.com/>

Guidelines: <http://www.dreamquestone.com/rules.html>

Write a poem, thirty lines or fewer on any subject, style, or form,
typed or neatly hand printed.

And/or write a short story, five pages maximum length, on any subject or
theme, creative writing fiction or non-fiction (including essay
compositions, diary, journal entries and screenwriting). Also, must be
typed or neatly hand printed.

Multiple poetry and short story entries are accepted.

Postmark deadline: December 31, 2009

All contest winners will be announced on January 31, 2010

Prizes:

Writing Contest First Prize is $500. Second Prize: $250. Third Prize:
$100.

Poetry Contest First Prize is $250. Second Prize: $125. Third Prize:
$50.

Entry fees:

$10 per story.

$5 per poem.

To send entries: Include title(s) with your story (ies) or poem(s),
along with your name, address, phone#, email, brief biographical info.
(Tell us a little about yourself), on the coversheet. Add a
self-addressed stamped envelope for entry confirmation. Fees payable to:
"DREAMQUESTONE.COM"

Mail to:

Dream Quest One

Poetry & Writing Contest

P.O. Box 3141

Chicago, IL 60654

Visit http://www.dreamquestone.com <http://www.dreamquestone.com/>  for
further details.

No one who achieves success does so without acknowledging the help of
others. The wise and confident acknowledge this help with gratitude.
"And remember, in whatever you do, it's okay to dream, for
dreams do come true." –Dream Quest One



[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

More of my works can be read at:
http://wrulfvonglashaus.wordpress.com/

* * *

No Quatrains, But Refrains
for The Beloved and in honor of Mevlana Jallaladin Rumi
_______

First Leaf: "Radiantly Dark"

I have wandered the moon-smitten byways of earth and not seen a
divinity as radiantly dark as your eyes, and knowing this I am lost,
not caring, for my mind is lost just as well…

* * *

… I won´t be found until the eclipse of divinity, and with an ache
marrow-deep of spirit confess that I don´t want to be…

* * *

… intoxication too often leaves one ravished: the bittersweet aroma
of longing ravaging me…

* * *

… dare to drain the wineglass of desire, then fling it and listen to
the piercing tinkle of breaking glass, an ominous sound, but more
pleasant than that of a breaking heart…

~~~~~~~

Whistle away your anger and leave your lungs empty for a new gulp
of air - born of yourself…

* * *

… beyond its usual flavor, the lemon is only as bitter as compared to
the sweets preceding it… cleanse your taste buds with it and turn the
favor on its head with the caress, again, of sweets upon your tongue,
forgetting the bite so lately of lemon…

* * *

… the long-suffering of love comes at a price more rewarding than the
fornication of hatred in lust…

* * *

… when come the rabbits from their burrows will come the song of day;
dance its rhythms, for living is ceremony, a marriage, even of sorrow
to sorrow…

* * *

… perfume isn´t released until flower-petals are crushed by pulses of
the heart…

~~~~~~~

You refuse to acknowledge that I love you until you have wounded
me, then sit beside the river of my blood, waiting… for what neither
of us know…

* * *

… perhaps it is illusion, for which none can be blamed, in the hope
that such rivers will come together for one heartbeat of forever…
before disappearing… forever…

* * *

… illusions don´t matter when you see the best of yourself reflected
by the beloved in the garden pool of your affection…

* * *

… your ocean reverberates in mine, the terror of darkness in its
thunder, sunrise-surges in its motion, and resonating to all, part of
me bows like the willow, while another rises toward the moon as
powerful, but taller and straighter than poplars of the mountains…

~~~~~~~

We all are girls and boys in the sandbox… and the ocean beyond is
our dream…

* * *

… like fox kittens tumbling about on the sunlit steps of home in
forest glade and field, so lovers test one another in hope of that
childhood enduring like the sun…

* * *

… you´ll find yourself through the agony of giving birth to your
friend, brother and lover, the same blood throbbing to the same
pulses through the same veins from the same heart making love to
heart… the unsolvable riddle of essence born and reborn in essence…

* * *

… we waited for centuries to share our toys, and now I always hold
you carefully before me while we are bareback on our horse carrying
us back to the chamber of our Eternal Mother, modest yet resplendent
in her robe of the Ageless One…

* * *

… I honor you: You, prince of desert horses, the pristine promise of
treasured rainbows in your arching neck, the wind in your flowing
mane, the cadences of your feet,
dust rises around you like a veil… the yawning of god in awakening
lies beyond…

* * *

… the stain across the horizon is the birthing-blood of our
brotherhood from a time beyond all horizons but not our river flowing
from heart to heart, where sunsets and sunrises take their evening
and morning baths…

* * *

… the mind within mutely knows that much of love´s pain is not
surrender, but self-infliction, yet willingly surrenders to a
blindfold worn above a knife thrust into the heart…

* * *

… in vain, we hope the wound will heal, though the wind will caress
it during the magnificent and cleansing terror of free-fall…

~~~~~~~

Loving you is my indulgence… please indulge yourself…

* * *

… intimacy flourishes at night because love walks the velvet-deep of
night-sky… wrap it around you… intimately…

* * *

... the rain seems endless, thus our mights of early spring... dawn is simply
waiting... in reverence...

* * *

… walking hand-in-hand is one thing; another much better is heart-in-
heart… god sometimes paces the middle…

* * *

... lips don´t touch without connection of spirits yearning for the
moment when lips will become one with flesh of the soul…

* * *

… your feet would hallow the ground you walk upon were it not for the
smell of your shoes… one reason I inhale your spirit through your
inescapable eyes…

~~~~~~~~

Nothing is more sacred than to be an unpaid whore, beloved by too
many to count…

* * *

… the thoroughfares of earth have maps - love never does: Cast maps
aside and feel, dare to make love to the lover within…

* * *

… you´re as free as the air into which you release the spirit of your
beloved, for visible only to naked soul, divinity shades the same air
with its wings…

* * *

… don´t despise them… dill pickles will help you pucker for kissing…
if you only can find someone willing to ignore the pungency of dill…

~~~~~~~~

Come, my friend and brother, let us walk the same road to the shade
of a tree and sit for discussion of the bond between us, unless we
fall asleep - perhaps the best communion since the fellowship of
snoring never speaks falsely…

* * *

… passion is purest at its most quiet…

* * *

… melancholy looks for solitude beside unspoken torrents of longing…

* * *

… in all true communion lies the great silence of renewal…

~~~~~~~

Lightning weds thunderclaps, drops of rain join in flowing to the
sea, and our hearts in skipping stones across the river of our dream,
with the cavort of droplets glistening under the reborn sun like
diadems of innocence given us by the immutable sky…

* * *

… the riotous, earthy vernacular of your laughter resounds nowhere
but in your garden, and I am glad, sitting under its lemon trees
doing what? - listening…

~~~~~~~

Love, in some ways, is neither a temple nor a tavern, but the
backroom where we all shoot dice…

* * *

… may the wind always be at your back, and may all your roads come
back to you lost in me… and I in you…

* * *

… * your shoes might not fit, but who cares when lost in ecstasy of the dance?
one suggestion, though: try barefooted…

* * *

... * we are forever as the soil from which we come... and to which we shall
return.
*(refrains for the sufi)

Solstice Moon

My heart anticipates
The Wheel of the Year
  changes...
Turns

I spin
Dance in the New Winter  light
Bare feet
  barely feeling the  snow

Solstice Moon
waning,grounding
Wind Chimes make merry  music
I am exuberant

I dance to the wind
Dance in the change
and again
Dancing with The Goddess
Dancing in the changes
Feeling the New, longer  light
Dancing through the  shadows

Watching foot prints
Some mine
Some squirrils
Some dogs
Some unknown
All intertwined

Solstice Moon
We celebrate the
  Turn of the Wheel
   Never once
dancing alone!!

In Her light
DancingStar
December 21, 2005



[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Christmas Carol

Up on the mountain, almost all alone and yet seemingly not scared;
The recluse lived with just his dog, they were perfectly paired;

Just a run down shack in the woods was about all he had;
That and his best friend Jake so things weren't that bad;

A little porcelain statue that he kept close to his heart;
Was given to him last December by a widow down by Wal-Mart;

She said her name was Christmas Carol and she seemed so very nice;
But why oh why did she have to go swimming in the pond with ice?

Now, his days were spent warming up by the heat of the stove;
For she was now'sleeping in the shade of the grove;

But, in his dreams at night she visits and he smiles till she leaves;
It is a miracle to him, for thru this to her he cleaves.

   The Cosmic Cowboy
     12/11/09

And may you all have a blessed, healthy, and happy New Year!

Best wishes,

Gerina Dunwich

I'm the flower, the morning dew, the grace that always flow
I'm the black, the white, the gray that you never wish to know

I'm the tears, the pain,  the despair that you never desire
I'm the faith, the smile, the hope that count on your prayer

I'm the fire, the ice, the air that you breath and live
I'm the good, the evil, the friend that you love to keep

I'm the world, the dream, the imagination that has no limit
I'm the dust, the drop, I have nothing to be taken or to submit

I'm the sky, the galaxies, the mystery that you can't solve
I'm the stream, the ocean, the path that has many curve

I'm the sun, the moon, the stars that shine high upon the sky
I'm a mermaid, Cinderella, the fairy that granted wishes and fly

  I'm a wish of heaven
                               neither illusion nor real......

I'm... I just am....

Patches

As I go through life just living from day to day
This fact I find ever truer I must say

All along the way, we get bruises and hit bumps
Sometimes we take a leap of faith and at other times jumps

Yet, no matter what, we'll all have scratches
That is why the Good Lord gave us patches

The Cosmic Cowboy
1/18/10

Throughout The Years

All through our life together;
There's been much weather:

All we have been through;
Is better because of you:

So now as life passes by;
You're still the gleam in my eye.

The Cosmic Cowboy
1/18/10

Words of Luke

There he stood, near the front at five,
Bible in hand, his feet covered with bags.
He'll tell you straight without any jive,
Always by his side, a little dog's tail wags.

All the change he has received that day,
Is given to others for they have a need.
To stay humble in this life, he continually prays,
Seems his only goal is to just plant a seed.

Luke was his name, he was a doctor before,
They come  for his words as much as the rest.
Started to line up at least by a quarter to four,
He said he did it because he was blessed.
                        The Cosmic Cowboy
                            1/25/10

Take my hand, let me take you to a place where there is no hurt and no pain
Do not fear me, as I want to take you somewhere beyond this place
Trust me, take my hand, I will show you, you have everything to gain
Do not fear me, see you can even see my face.

Be brave, my child, do not fret, come on, take my hand
Everything you have ever dreamed, take my hand, I can make it a reality
You can build your house on solid ground, instead of the untrustworthy sand
Take my hand, I promise from me you will never wish to flee.

I will show you things that you didn't even know they were real
So swallow your pride, be brave and take my hand
I will make life exciting, I promise I will cut you a very special deal
Take my hand and I will take you to a different land.

Don't be afraid, my child, trust me, I promise I will always protect you
Under my realm, I promise you will be as happy as can be
With me by your side, you will never be sad or blue
I will bring you total happiness, in the long run, isn't happiness the key?

So, just follow me, and I will make your drab life, so very exciting
Everything you would ever desire is right at your fingertips
Just take my hand, follow me, all the things to you I can bring
For all the things in life you want, I will bring the water, all you have to do
is take a sip.

There is only one thing that I ask you do for me
Take my hand, and I promise you will be the happiest in all the land
All I require is your soul, promise you will give it to me
See, just worship me, be brave, come on take my hand.

  Lanaia Lee

Gabe and Mike

Outside was cold, temp. was near -10 below,
Men and women waiting were nearly all froze.
Faces held many, many memories of a life long ago,
Stories were told, the beginning of which nobody knows.

Seemingly out of nowhere two men did appear,
They held hot food and warm clothes for all.
Their skin looked mighty pale as we grew near,
And their clothes were kinda different, as I recall.

After the message and the meal, I went to thank them,
Wouldn't you know it, they were just plain gone.
Not a trace was found, we looked all the a.m.,
Then  we searched the whole next night till dawn.

Whoever they were it seems they came from God,
What was needed was given, us this dismay.
Their gift was presented squarely with no facade,
Gabe and Mike was their names, them we can't repay.
                            The Cosmic Cowboy
                                1/29/10

Wandering Man

Oh! Wandering man, must you live life this way;
You've gone through the years with nothing to do
and little to say:

Your like a nomad of the desert, but it's one of
your own making;
You spend your time looking out for yourself
while all others forsaking:

Life through your eyes seems so lonely, why
are you scared?
Have you been hurt by someone you thought
really cared?

Won't you come home, so as to wander alone no more;
There is Someone waiting to join you, if you will
but open your heart's door.

The Cosmic Cowboy
2/12/10

In case anyone is interested:



----- Forwarded Message ----
From: Robin Herne <robinherne@...>
Sent: Mon, 15 February, 2010 16:03:54
Subject: Polytheist performers sought

 

The third Pooka's Pageant (www.freewebs. com/pookaspagean t)will take place in
Ipswich on Saturday 28th August this year. Are there any polytheist poets,
storytellers, musicians, singers, or other types of performer who could offer
their services (currently for travel money only, unless we sell a shedload of
tickets)?

The tried-n-trusted format, for those unfamiliar with the event, is to open with
a talk on some aspect of the performing arts within polytheism (previously we've
had talks on early Greek theatre, and the interaction between oral and
manuscript culture amongst the Insular Celts), then a mixture of performances
and how-to workshops or discussions.

Feel free to pass my email on to anyone you think would be interested.

regards, Robin

Ipswich Pagan Council ~ www.freewebs. com/ipswichpagan council

Boring bastard wittering about nothing ~ http://robin- ginsoakedboy. blogspot.
com




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