Art and the philosophy of life

Archive for the ‘magic/magick’ Category

The magical bridge to YOUR DREAMS COME TRUE…a story poe

Brown Wooden Bridge in the Forest

the wind
sang to her
she listened
it told her of
beautiful things
of red and gold
birds with blue
tipped in
pure silver
of lushness
beyond belief
all of her dreams
could come true
if she just crossed
the bridge

what’s the catch
she asked
there’s ALWAYS
a catch

I probably can’t leave
once I’m there
like Shangri-La

the wind
rustled the leave
on the trees
and sent butterflies
to flutter around her
then it said
like Shangri-La
you can never leave

have a nice day
she said

as she turned
and went back
down the path

it’s really nice there
called the wind
but all he heard
was her laughter



Photo:  Tolga Ahmtler


A place of Magic…

Girl Sitting on Library Floor Reading a Book 

All cats have magic inside of them…it’s what they are…a poem.

Cat, Heart, Light, Dream, Love, Kitten

I love my little kitty
she’s black and oh so white
she lets me pet and play with her
each day
and every night
her eyes shine just like jewels
her face
a work of art
but more than all her beauty
is the love
within her heart


Photo:  Pixabay

Magic man…a very short story

He never made a fuss.  He simply pulled up a chair and started to play.  He sang softly, words of truth and awakening, words of valor and friendship, words of smoke and mirrors, peace and harmony.

As he sang, the people around him began to changed.  Their shoulders dropped, the tension in their faces disappeared, and their eyes lost their look of fear. They seemed lighter, younger, more at peace.

Once the spell had been cast, he got up and walked away..

No one in the crowd would remember him. You see, most people don’t believe in magic…even when it’s right in front of them.


Photo:  Hamid Tajik


Home…a poem

brown wooden house in the middle of green trees

she built her home
out of magic
the walls
were formed from
bits of poetry
random words
torn memories
and pages
from her favorite books
and chocolate
made up the ceiling
and yes
there were
shreds of rage
and revenge
moments of
and despair
that sometimes
littered the floor
but the cats
and trees
brushed those things aside
covering her nest
with beautiful leaves
and soft contented


Photo:  Mikaela Stenström

Trees are magic…

sun light passing through green leafed tree

trees are magic
their roots
touch the pulse of life
they see everything
they are the guardians
of Nature
the oxygen
the keepers
of wisdom
we ignore that
at our own risk




Photo:  Jeremy Bishop

We will never forget…

woman in black dress standing on firefrom generation
to generation
we pass down
our lore
pass down
our stories
pass down our
we exist
and we won’t
ever forget
how men


Photo:  Vadim Sadovski

You know this picture is all about magic…A poem

White and Brown Cat

a witch lives with me
we work together
in harmony
as it should be
what we do
is for the
good of all
and the harm of none
and you may well ask
how we know
what is good for all
well that’s easy
what we do is
loving and kind
life affirming
in a world
that is determined
to do the exact
I’m happy to be a
and she’s happy
to be my witch
merry meet
and merry part
and merry meet
blessed be



Photo:  Xue Guangjian

Magick…A very short story

From above emotionless young female model covered with glittering blue paint sitting on floor with eyes closed in dark studio

People don’t understand me, they just know I’m different, so they stay away.  Late at night I let my Magick out to sparkle under the moonlight.  I close my eyes and feel the energy flow through me.

My mother always told me to keep my Magick hidden, since people are afraid of those who aren’t the same as they are.  Human minds are fearful and fragile things, she said, and prejudice runs deep.

She told me about my father and his Magick.  She met him one night, when she was walking home from work.  He was beautiful, she said.  More beautiful than anyone she had ever seen.  He told her he was different and that if she went with him, a daughter would be born, and I would be like both of them.  I would be a connection between both worlds.

She said she took his hand and loved him so deeply, that she never noticed another man.  She said she wouldn’t change a thing.  But she hoped that I would be happy, in spite of what my life was like.  He told her there would be more children like me, and when the time came, we would know what to do.

I’m not a child any longer.  But I hear the trees talking to each other.  They talk about the weather, the coming seasons, and the birds nesting in their branches.  I hear the explosions on our star and I know when She’s angry.  I hear nature and understand how I am connected to all living things, and I see the poison that has infected the minds of human beings.  The poison that stops them from knowing those things as well.

I don’t know what’s coming, or when.  I just know that I’ll be ready to do whatever is necessary, when it arrives.

My name is Blue Diamond, and I’m not like everyone else.  If you’re reading this, neither are you.


Photo:  Maria Eduarda Tavares


photography of bookshelf and star LED light decor

after midnight
in bookstores
magic happens
books come
through the air
until dawn
and the words
return to their
assigned pages
to wait for the right person
to come along
and take them


Photo:  Valentin Antonini

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