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The dream to create a channel of entertainment and education for the world. The desire to unite people and to promote interconnectedness through God’s will. To promote love and good will to all peoples and all religions. To find common ground through understanding the history and the myths. Poetry transcends all cultures and can be enjoyed by all people as a link to the heart. Music should uplift and send a good message of love and a resource to transcend human pain in all its forms.

love from OZ and talk to the Moon

my Blog is about my writings and my books and about feeling good about yourself and knowing when you put love and kindness into the atmosphere it will return to you and hopefully make a more connected and kinder place for us all. I have travelled a lot due to my work and my enthusiasm to see and experience more and I have used it as an love potion to my soul. It is also for me a way to give work and honest labor to people and to meet new faces. Covid has been a terrible thing all across the world preventing travel but the world will renew. I enjoy poetry and fairytales along with all kinds of interesting literature so if you enjoy I am happy.

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Love each other but watch for the red flags and dont trust anyone/ Always be kind and remember Karma will come on your word and deed what you give will be returned! God is real and I need to put this on every heart!!! We never expect life arrows and we need to see time is so valuable.  We never know how long we have some people have of course long lives and others not so. Therefore it is a force of nature we need to know that we don’t waste our time but that it be spent in meaningful pursuits. Kindness should be our top priority for ourselves as well as to others. I like many learnt that life is precious and sometimes cruel so we try to manufacture justice through beliefs and soothe ourselves with dogma. Oh that life were everlasting we cry so we reinvent ideas from the crypt. I am as religious as the next or as knowing as the next. I cant assure you that heaven is real but I don’t think Olympus was nor the Aztec sun god but it gave hope and gave belief to that Epoc. All I can say is to be kind and remember that person may not be here long don’t make their journey harder than it has to be.

 Looking back and looking forward with kindness we begin again

love one another

I want to immediately welcome and invite you to subscribe to my blog.

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Books are the windows to the world every thought, every theory can be found in a book. I am a writer and I enjoy the play of words and how much power words can convey when done eloquently. I hope you enjoy your visit to my blog and return with a smile and a happy heart. You will meet me through my interests my teddy bears and my choices of songs. love from oz and louisa.

The published or blogging remain the intellectual property of louise jensen alias louisa jen.

I believe in kindness and womens rights which are human rights I love men I dont hate and I try not to judge. My poetry is straight from my emotions I dont sensor my voice it flows and I write it. I am christian but I believe in everything and nothing.

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History

The mongolian menace unified tribes into a deadly force

Men fought for their right to believe now let us heal the past.

Boudica is magic and even after all the centuries she has a lot to teach us about bravery tenacity and revenge (karma)

                         Boudica

                   Warrior queen

                   by louisa Jen

                        Introduction

The year is Ad 30 and Boudica the warrior queen  has been born in Comulodun (cholchester). The only real source of information comes from the roman text of two scholars. These are the Roman scholars Tacitus and Cassius Dio who relate the tale of the Celtish Queen Boudica.  She was married to king Prasutagus of the Iceni tribe, East Anglia (approx. 43ce) they had 2 daughters.  In actual fact no names of the daughters remain or are written.  Very little information is left  even the word celts is an umbrella word  to give name to the many tribes of Britain. Upon  Boudica’s husband’s death Boudica becomes queen and after fractious argument with Roman governance, she leads a revolt against roman rule in Britain.                                                                   Boudica queen of the celts is an inspiration.  Some might say where does the warrior queen sit amongst the modern woman.                                      My answer is she is an Emblem of equality and of powerful realignments of self.                                                                                                                  It is I believe not in the time period that we diminish women but rather we should exult women.  

History portrays men as powerful leaders and indeed they were but a woman’s heart can be equally as proud and as powerful as her counter-part.                                                                                                                   Boudica felt and saw injustice and she did something about it. She backed herself against the might of Rome just as Spartacus did.

 She challenged and fought and even the loss and disastrous battle or bad outcome set the tone for resistance. She made her power count she made men look up to her and wonder at her courage. She is a woman, she is a lioness, hear her roar. She led the Iceni and the tribe of the Trinovantes and others into battle at comulodunum. Once a settlement and capital of the trinovantes but was at this time a colonia, settlement for discharged soldiers and site of the temple of the former Emperor Claudius.  This was a provocative move against Rome and one that would awaken Rome’s retaliation. The battles were ferocious with 70 to 80000 dead.  Both roman and British killed in the three major confrontations of the three settlements led by the Celtish queen. The full horror of battle I think could not be imagined and whether she died of wounds or whether she poisoned herself no one will ever be sure; Tacitus has said she died of ill health after the battle at some time.

Boudica is described as tall and fierce in appearance. Celtish woman often fought in battle with their men and it seem improbable that people would follow her if she was not an imposing figure. I believe she possessed sheer strength of character and the charisma of a queen. To fight so valiantly to excel and never surrender is dazzling to my mind. The courage to take on Rome the strongest army in the world. Let us kneel and pay homage before the queen Boudica of the Celts.

                      Chapter

In British folklore  a hero is found  a woman named Boudica. Men and bards told stories of the brave queen, She who gathered the tribes  under one banner  for the resistance to Roman rule.  One of the earliest writings of  Boudica excluding Tacitus and Dio” s Annals) was 6th century “On the Ruin and Conquest of Britain) by a monk Gildas. He demonstrates his knowledge of a female leader he calls her a “treacherous Lioness” who butchered the governors of Britain. Those who had been left to give fuller voice and to give strength to roman rule’. Gildasis referring to Boudica. Polydore vergil introduced Boudica as Voadicea in 1534, Raphael Hollinshed includer boudica in his chronicals (1577) all based on Tacitus and Dio.

Boudica became a light house to freedom.                I feel History has given voice to men and I continue to want to give voice to women then and now. She is no less worthy of historical praise than anyone else. Sadly, written word are roman voices of Tacitus and Cassius Dio and all others are based upon these roman texts. The rest are folk lore stories of the celtish peoples. So, I begin in this classical period AD 115-117 annals and the Agricola AD98 both published many years after Boudica’s revolt however Tacitus had an eye witness at his disposal for the retelling of events: it was his father-in-law Gnaeus Julius Agricola who had served in Britain three times as a tribune under Suetonius Paulinus: It was to his account that during Suetonius absence that Tacitus says Britons began to congregate under the authority of Boudica. Cassius Dio’s account, published over a century after Boudica’s death is only known through an epitome written by Xiphilinus.  Dio provides a considerable amount of information not found in the work of Tacitus suggesting sources he used were lost long ago. It is generally agreed that Dio based his account on that of tacitus but simplifies the sequences of events. The abuses which Boudica and her daughters suffered at the hand of Rome is not mentioned in Dio account instead he sites three causes to the rebellion.

The recalling of loans that were given to Britons by Seneca: Decianus Catus confiscation of money formally loaned to Britains by Emperor Claudius: The romans brought into celt society coins money to trade and to buy so the celts took the loans.  Boudicas entreaties gives three different causes for the rebellion: the recalling of loans given to Britains by Seneca: Decianus Catus confiscation of money for emperor Claudius: and Boudicas own entreaties Tacitus depicts Boudica as a victim of roman slavery and licentiousness, her fight which made her a champion of barbarian and British liberty. It is also reason Boudica is narrated as the standard of bravery as a freedwoman rather than just a queen.

Tacitus and Cassius Dio, little is known about her early life; its believed she was born into an elite family in Camulodunum (now Colchester).

Little is known but Boudica became a folk hero for Britain after tacitus writings were unearthed. No real evidence of her fate other than her death after the battle at Watling street  road even the exact location is not quite known.

                  Chapter

Boudica was no doubt brought up in the celtic culture where tribal fighting was like the viking culture a part of the kingship of the lands. To gain land and to protect the land and your peoples of your tribe.                         To provide stability and keep the peace albeit through violence if nessecary and of course kings decided guilt for any crime done.  Imagine life within the tribal dynamics there is love there is singing dancing, weaving and all the things a living environment entails. To gain land to hold land was the foremost pre-requisite of a king.  Into this kind of land came Rome and who saw the people as barbarian to themselves. Rome wanted Land, tribute and slaves. They were cunning for the first moments.    The initial treaty made with Boudica’s husband Prasutagus meant he would rule nominally independent of Rome or rather as an ally to Rome. These arrangements lasted until the death of Prasutagus and although a will left all to Boudica and his daughters. Rome did not honour any agreements like any conqueror they had contempt for thr the celtish peoples. The ideas of anything other than conquering Britain fell to violence.

The story sets out to tell of the rape of Boudica’s daughters and her own beating and warriors being killed. This meant Boudica would retaliate. All agreements broken and so war was the outcome.

The roman governor Gaius Suetonius Paulinus was campaigning on the island of Mona (modern Anglesey) on the northwest of wales.  Boudica led the Revolt and upon hearing this news Suetonius hurried to Londinium (London) settlement 20 years old commercial centre. After he evacuated the settlement Boudica attached the detachment of Legion IX Hispana defeating and burning Londinium and further Verulamium  (St Albums). The idea of freedom and liberty ran deep in the celtic mind and Boudica reinforces the idea which is like a seed that grows in the land.

Below is a poem written in 1780 the legend is redeemed by William Cowper.

BOADICEA:  AN ODE

[Written 1780.  Published 1782.]   WHEN the British warrior queen,
     Bleeding from the Roman rods,
Sought, with an indignant mien,
     Counsel of her country’s gods,

Sage beneath a spreading oak
     Sat the Druid, hoary chief;
Ev’ry burning word he spoke
     Full of rage, and full of grief.

Princess! if our aged eyes
     Weep upon thy matchless wrongs,
‘Tis because resentment ties
     All the terrors of our tongues.

“Rome shall perish—write that word
     In the blood that she has spilt;
Perish, hopeless and abhorr’d,
     Deep in ruin as in guilt.

Rome, for empire far renown’d,
     Tramples on a thousand states;
Soon her pride shall kiss the ground—
     Hark! the Gaul is at her gates!

Other Romans shall arise,
     Heedless of a soldier’s name;
Sounds, not arms, shall win the prize—
     Harmony the path to fame.

Then the progeny that springs
     From the forests of our land,
Arm’d with thunder, clad with wings,
     Shall a wider world command.

Regions Cæsar never knew
     Thy posterity shall sway,
Where his eagles never flew,
     None invincible as they.

Such the bard’s prophetic words,
     Pregnant with celestial fire,
Bending, as he swept the chords
     Of his sweet but awful lyre.

She, with all a monarch’s pride,
     Felt them in her bosom glow;
Rush’d to battle, fought, and died;
     Dying, hurl’d them at the foe.

Ruffians, pitiless as proud,
     Heav’n awards the vengeance due;
Empire is on us bestow’d,
     Shame and ruin wait for you.

he Complete Poetical Works of William Cowper.
H. S. Milford, ed.
London: Henry Frowde, 1905. 310-1.

Out of the story of the Queen of the Celts comes the legend and while we are uncertain of all aspects of her life, we are certain of her character. She was brave, she engendered respect from her people and the warriors who fought with her. She stood for the people who equally stood shoulder to shoulder with her against overwhelming odds.  The trust of what they believed was right and just allowed the queen to be the charismatic character Boudica. So much so that her story comes to us today from 30 AD. In the 16th century Raphael Holinshed called her Voadicia   while Edmond Spencer called her Bunduca a variation used in the Jacobean play Bonduca of 1612. Throughout these ages the Celtish queen is revered for her stance for her defence of her homeland for her island Britain. A noble cause a just cause, for it is in the land we find our ancestors blood and bones past and laid.  The land gives value for it is here food is found and, in the forests, live the gods.  It is a world born of nature and in the purity of the rivers are the hearts and minds of the Celtish tribes and Britain. So, it was a natural acknowledgement for her tale to quickly become folk law for ever told by the campfire light. The courage of women who fought along with their men and their queen forever etched in our minds.

Statue of Boudica with daughters in her war chariot next to Westminster bridge and the house of parliament in England.  Commissioned Prince Albert executed by Thomas Thornycroft 1905

It took 20 years and he died in 1871 it was still a plaster model Thomas’s son john Issac with the help of William bull MP raised funds for a bronze version. Boudica was embraced by Victorian Londoners, despite the fact that one of her most well-known acts was to burn the place to cinders. Similarly, the towns of Colchester and St Albans have embraced her as a local heroine, a status testified to by everything from stained glass windows to car park graffiti, at least in the case of Colchester. St Albans has taken a more, staid approach and is content with telling her story in the local museum, while occasionally using her image.

  • Notable Quotes: “If you weigh well the strengths of our armies you will see that in this battle we must conquer or die. This is a woman’s resolve. As for the men, they may live or be slaves.” “I am not fighting for my kingdom and wealth now. I am fighting as an ordinary person for my lost freedom, my bruised body, and my outraged daughters.”

                            Chapter

British children all have learnt and know the story of Boudica and  the rebellion against the invading Rome. The battle of Watling which she lost was a disaster the trained roman ary with their shields spears and formation training smashed the celts. The spears pierced the chainmail and when up close the shield formation was impenetrable.  The arrow formation pushing inti Boudica’s line was deadly. Death and bodies and body pieces lay all about the celts were defeated and Boudica is said to have been seen leaving the battle but nothing is conclusive. Some then assumed her death in  battle others assumed she poisoned herself after in fear of roman punishment. She had already suffered at their hands.                               When her husband King Prasutagus had died and roman authority was being implemented her daughters had been raped and she the queen had been humiliated and the scourging of the proud queen was an indignity she did not forget.                                                                           At that time Governor Suetonius turned his attention to wales, taking two thirds of the military. Boudica had met with the leaders of the icenti, Trinovanti, cornovii, Durotiges and other tribes.  All the tribes had grievances against Rome foor they had all felt the rage of rome eg, the recall of loans by Nero who had replaced the dead Emperor Claudius. Boudica’s story was nearly forgotten until Tacitus work Annals was rediscovered in 1360. Boudica’s story became popular during the reign of queen Elizabeth! st today Boudica is considered a national heroine and a universal symbol of the human desire for freedom and justice.                       Her life is retold in historical novels and on television  and on  you tube. The  warrior queen remains the nations pride.                                                                                                                Roman occupation brought roman settlement and military presence they also attempted to suppress the Celtic religion. There were changes to economics coins were introduced for trade and buying.  So loans were given  and taxes  enforced. Roman rule was encroaching on all the celtish tribes lifestyle and freedoms.         Dio’s  account leaves out the rape and beating of Boudica  and her daughters while tacitus included this in the annals. Boudica rode a war chariot up and down the ranks when fighting, willing her warriors on to victory. When they  she was   eventually beaten  at watling road one can suppose that  Boudica poisoned herself to avoid slavery or worse.  (Inconclusive)                                                                              Boudicca’s army had counted on seizing Roman food stores when the tribes abandoned their own fields to wage rebellion. Suetonius however was a general of some skill  and he  had strategically burned the Roman stores. Famine thus struck the victorious army, greatly weakening it.

Boudicca fought one more battle, though at Watling street its precise location is unknown. Boudicca’s army attacked uphill, and, exhausted and hungry, were easily routed by the Romans. Roman troops—numbering just 1,200—defeated Boudicca’s army of 100,000, killing 80,000 while suffering only 400 casualties.                         As a result of the rebellion, the Romans strengthened their military presence in Britain but also lessened their hard tactics along with their oppressive rule.                                                                                                After the Romans suppressed Boudica’s rebellion, other  tribes  mounted a few smaller insurrections in the coming years, but none gained the same widespread support or cost as many lives. The Romans would continue to hold Britain, without any further significant trouble, until their withdrawal from the region in 410.

These histories that appeared after tacitus annals were stemming from his father in-law who had been roman governor of Britain and he had witnessed the savagery and the heroism that characterised the celts.                                                                                            The rediscovery of Tacitus annals, brought about a renaissance of history in Europe  and these new written works began to trickle into Britain. Essentially during the reign of the Tudor monarchs. These histories caused a stir in the still-fractious nations of Britain: stories of  heroic myths. Along with  the fantastic tales of wizards and courtly knights popularised by Geoffrey of Monmouth, were swept aside.        In their place stood a woman, a  celt queen described in William Cowper’s 1782 poem ‘Boadicea an Ode’, as ‘bleeding from the Roman rods’, with vengeance in her eyes and a spear in her hand.  Even the speech from Elizabeth 1st to her troops at Tilbury before the possible invasion by the Spanish armada might have been taken from the inspirational Boudica oration to her warriors. poet Jonathan Aske saw a resemblance. In his triumphant ode on the defeat of the Spanish in 1588, he proclaimed Elizabeth as ‘Voada, England’s happie queene’. But what happened after the death of Elizabeth?                                                                                         Some modern historians have argued that Boudica’s reputation suffered a decline during and after the reign of James I and VI. Following her Elizabethan heyday, the return of a man to the throne spelled the end for the celebration of unorthodox women. It is not surprising that Boudica was viewed with suspicion and misogynistic ire on the part of some writers and audiences.

This was true, for example, of the poet John Milton. Milton had little time for the pagan queen in his prose History of Britain, published in the 1670s. Milton dismissed her as a shameless harridan who ought to have kept her sorry tale of assault, rape and humiliation to herself. Sadly, Milton, for all his poetic genius, was an unreconstructed misogynist; his dislike of Boudica stemmed from a distaste for the notion of women in power. As a female chieftain, and a pagan to boot, Boudica represented all that was most horrifying for Milton.                                                                            But Milton’s view was not typical of his time, or even of the years before. His critical take on Boudica can be contrasted with that of the antiquary and historian Edmund Bolton, a penniless hanger-on to the court of James I and VI. Bolton made his way, with only partial success, by writing for the court and, in 1624, For this denizen of James’ court at least, Boudica was nothing less than a great heroine, even if she had been a poor general. Bolton’s text is full of entertaining antiquarian speculation. It was he who first put forward the notion that Stonehenge was erected by the ancient Britons in memory of the warrior queen.                                                                           In the 17th century, antiquarians seemed most keen on Boudica. Aylett Sammes, another antiquarian and historian, composed a somewhat tongue-in-cheek tribute to Boudica and her daughters in his illustrated history of Britain, Britannia Antiqua Illustrata, of 1676:

To war, this Queen doth with her Daughters move.

She for her wisdom, followed They for Love,

For what Roman force, Such joined powers could quell;

Before so murdering Charmes whole Legions fell.

Thrice happy Princesses had she rescued so,

Her Daughters honour, and her Countrys too;

But they being ravish’t, made her understand

This harder Beauty to secure, then Land.

Yet her Example teaching them to dye.

Virtue the roome of Honour did supply.

Sammes’ light-hearted verse had a serious point. Boudica and her daughters had been violated by the Romans and fought back as best they could, even if they were doomed to fail. How could three women stand against such a powerful foe?

 Since her death, Boudica’s posthumous reputation is never easily characterised. A study of her reputation in British culture reveals no single ‘typical’ view of her, but rather a varied sense of her importance to different individuals and groups. Insofar as we can draw any conclusions about how she has been viewed, it seems clear that people have embraced her as a heroic figure. But we need to be cautious when approaching questions of ‘the past in the past’.                                                                                 Audiences from the reign of Elizabeth I onwards have tended to respond positively to Boudica, even to the point of disowning negativity.

By the end of the 18th century, the misogynistic views of Milton and the naked instrumentality of playwrights such as Glover, would give way to a multifaceted and complex heroic identity for Boudica. She was celebrated by female authors as a suitable heroine for children and young women, albeit with the caveat that suicide was no fitting death for a Christian lady. In Heroines of History (1854), Mrs O.F. Owens wrote of Boudica’s demise:

Contempt for death, and the reception of it with an exaggerated welcome, formed the grand basis of barbarian virtue; and the woman who fell by her own hand, was formerly an object of applause and example. Now the consolatory doctrine of Christianity teaches us a nobler lesson. The great principle of worldly probation, is the endurance of afflictions, which are ‘but for a moment’, by the exercise of a faith, constant and inviolate, in the unseen.

Boudica could neatly illustrate the dangers of paganism while displaying native pluck and patriotic fervour.                                                         Yet there was one aspect of Boudica’s identity that remained ambiguous well into the 20th century: what did it mean for an ancient heroine to be ‘British’? There was a vocal minority in Wales who claimed Boudica as a uniquely Welsh heroine due to the fact that there were no English people in ancient Britain, only Celts. The Celtic Welsh could therefore claim ownership of the Celtic Boudica, or Buddug, as she was known within the growing Celtic nationalist movement. But they faced an uphill struggle in convincing ordinary Welsh men and women of this version of history. When the new Cardiff City Hall was being decorated with statues of Welsh heroes in the early 20th century, the public took a vote on whose likenesses should feature in the ‘Welsh Valhalla’. Queen Buddug garnered few votes. Instead, the Welsh public, when asked to vote for their nation’s exemplary female hero, voted for the hymn writer Ann Griffiths. This choice was simply ignored. To this day it is Buddug and her two daughters who remain the only female figures on display in the Marble Hall. 

Boudica has had a storied posthumous life. As her various appropriations show, as with any aspect of culture, history can be both political and personal.

                             Chapter                                                               

The times of boudica were extreme the land of the celts was more than mere property it had been won by war and held by

aggression and treaty.  Lives had been lost and god’s appeased in the forests. The land was everything and so were the lives who hunted and gathered who planted and harvested here in these well managed tough won settlements. Rome like any invading force thought themselves superior and therefore made no apology for the destruction and appropriation of goods land and lives as slave labour.  The warrior husband gone it fell to Boudica to challenge or surrender to the mighty legions of Rome.  She consulted her people and the co-existing friendly tribes and contractually decided to fight. She was a queen backed into a corner and rather than yield she stood and echoed out of the celtic earth a scream of freedom the reverberates down the centuries of time. 2000 years and here I write of the powerful queen. The trade of friendship and co-existence brought some tribes together and the regard for liberty coincided and rumour brought warriors to the battle for Britain. To relieve the land of roman dominance. This would fail of course but she showed her metal she revealed her truth, her courage, her love she risked her life and that of her people. What other choice subservience or surrender? The choice she made handed the celts some autonomy.

Boudica a woman, a force of arms, a queen.

                      The End

Wikipedia google

Martha Vandrei is the author of Queen Boudica and Historical Culture in Britain: An Image of Truth (Oxford, 2018).

History – Boudicca.” BBC, BBC.

Mark, Joshua J. “Boudicca.” Ancient History Encyclopedia, Ancient History Encyclopedia, 28 Feb. 2019.

Britannica, The Editors of Encyclopaedia. “Boudicca.” Encyclopædia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc., 23 Jan. 2017.

The sad thing or happy thing is you cannot put an old head on young shoulders that is to say children learn only what they are told. As we grow we form our own limited opinions and go through realizations that allow us to see our own reality. Someone born in 1960 passes on the morality of 1960 to a child born in 1980 and there by every person has to grow and find that new reality for their own existence and then the cycle again is passed on always from an out dated view. We wake from our illusions with time and then we have to adjust to our new or our own vision leaving behind what is not needed in the present. However some become stuck in yesterdays ideas and yesterdays indoctrinated theory which hinders in the renewal process while attempting to keep a societal equilibrium. History is integral to any study history of the person and the times and ideas that influenced the outcomes. The proper response to any study is to approach it from an empirical direction and and objective stance because you can hardly call anything research if you have preconceived the answer. Bias is a danger to study and so several different perspectives must be sought before any conclusion can be arrived at.. I studied social sciences and so a good portion of my study was research and how to question and perceive results and as history was an equal love I transpose my ideas to historical imperatives and sifting through concepts.

coffee

Kiss the scars and touch the moon

Touch the moon and reach for the sun

Reach for the sun and find a miracle

Life is a million diamonds in the black of space

There is power in the blood of the lamb

Power of the sacrifice of love

Food for thought before you fly to arabic countries know that women have no rights to bring charges without suffering disrespect and that sadly the men feel entitled by virtue of the religion of convenience when it comes to having numerous wives and encounters.

Candles for sale below link!

Ignite Joy (@ignitejoycandles) • Instagram photos and videos

The vampire

The moon haunted the night sky

He desired the essence, he  gripped  her throat 

She floated  in that twilight of  desire

 Drawn to his magnetic power 

Their shadows shifted  in the miasma

The room swims in an ocean of stars  

the shape shifter, howls like a wolf

Black roses on the tomb stone

 Pain became her pleasure

His lips wet with eternal life

Destiny gave immortality

The phantom, the erotic dream

 Love beyond the grave

Louisa

Philosophy

Words and reason

Illusion is the reality of a magician 

Its a hidden reality of escapology

I use the term escapology loosely

To escape, to hide, to reignite imagination

To imagine magic and let the pretense be seen 

The  unseen becomes the illusion 

The new reality a philosophy of worlds

worlds created in the fires of drama

Drama played out in reality 

Reality  a staged  illusion

Illusions become the new reality

louisa Jen

Will you join me for coffee and relaxation

Chocolate mmmmmmm!

See the source image

Hot coffee on cold windy days so beautiful add some sugar and spice soooo lovely lol orgasmic haha take a picture of coffee and cake mmmmmm!

I would love to imagine people reading Flutterbys while sipping coffee or some romantic idea of my dream. I didnt build Flutterbys to make money I had a purest idea to make people happy yet some or most probably cant imagine why I dont require more money simple answer I have enough. Love is another story and no one can do without some kind of friendship or love. The magic of coffee bringing people together and the ambiance of relaxed conversation.

lemon tea for me so much love louisa from OZ

Become a flutterer

Coffee time gives us a moment to chat or simply enjoy the quiet

opened books and coffee near flowers
Photo by Daniela Constantini on Pexels.com

Coffee being taken all across the world even the princes in Dubai enjoy their coffee

poetry

waves of emotion through every art breath the human spirit the quest for love of self and worldly things

Life

Look at the birds and the butterflies

The sea so blue the sun to warm us

Smell the flower and raise a glass to me

The world is a beautiful place

Keep your own self and rely on no one

Travel is all I desire so it is to be.

louisa

  Beyond the Reef                                                                                                                 

 beyond where the surfers go.  Sunrise shatters the gloom with expectant light.    Beams reflect on the rushing tide; shafts of mirrored fire.   White tops dance and roll to crash upon the shore.  Waves indifferent to my entry, surge against me.  Costumed in a wet suit colored black, I glisten in this other skin.    I merge into the aquatic realm, accepting of my fate.   Bubbles froth around me, as the current swirls beneath the cresting waves.   My heart is pounding hard; I thrust toward the deeper sea. Fluid with the water, I feel the illusion that I am free.   I observe the marine milieu as a voyeur sees a game, then realize I’m in the picture and not outside the frame.   Reservoirs of oxygen sustain me, in my alien adventure.  Unconstrained by the ebb and tide, I descend into the depths.  I surrender now to excitement and waft like a ghost through the night.        Infinite as the universe, the sea has become my space.  Echo’s dark and ominous call me further still.                                                                               

Blurred shapes appear as I flip toward that abode where danger lurks,                      beyond the reef.   A rock shelf covered in coral, comes into view.                                The inhabitants of this underwater atoll, hardly ever see a diver pass like me.   Fear eliminated in my mind.   I embrace the rapture of the sea.    A school of brim cautiously pass and peer at me.   I drift into a vast kelp infested forest.          My spear stretched out with effervescent speed, to catch a Red Snapper in his sunken garden.   It struck its mark, the snapper thrashes and flounders to escape.  I checked my time and turned toward the shore.  I’ll have a bite fit for a King.     I’ll sip a glass of red.   I heard the breakers call, as they caressed the primal land.  Out of the shadows, a sleek grey shape disturbed me.     The shark circled swiftly but passed into the kelp below.    I hung my catch upon my weighted belt; I reset my spear to go. I was ready for the battle, ready for the affray.    Like a bullet he came toward me, his intent not hard to see.   I held my breath and fired, then tossed the land away.  In that terrible moment I drifted into another place

The wall

The wall reached high into the sky, barbed wire atop

Turrets and machine guns men at the ready

To kill freedom and to crush resistance

Countries divided death the only choice

loved ones on the other side of the wall

Oh god the wall and even when it fell we kept the wall

Solid in the heart for we knew the wall existed

No need not to look beyond the wall for it has been seen.

louisa

Dreaming

I drifted beyond the moon and dreamed of other lands

Looking back and looking forward ,without a sense of now

A journey I have travelled with a mystic and a mystery in my head

I danced a dance of time and in my wisdom I am denounced

I was an anxious child of parents unpredictable

I dreamed of flying and running far from death

Yet I died nightly to awaken in the light

Time has been my enemy or has it been my friend ,I cannot say!

Love was ever logical through my circumstance

Unlike this dance of shared connection and romance

Perhaps the face, perhaps an Egyptian fairytale oh! that I will never know

Such a dream of shared love such a mystery , such a disgrace !

louisa

The guiding star

The morning star is the impossible dream

To achieve a hearts desire to find answers to a souls quest

To see love come into the world instead of chaos and war

Humans are ever torn by emotions out of control

Impoverishment ,greed in all aspects envy

Sad redemptive spirits circle the globe to adhere some new belief

All for personal gain magicians of avarice creators of accumulation

Governance for the people becomes a microcosmic web of corruption

Where is the love god send us Kings of determination who rule for the people

God save the King

Louisa

To be grateful and gracious is to be magic

Poetry is the heart the soul crying out and it transcends the mind though the words are cerebral .

The beauty of a face may fade and the mind can dissipate but what stays are the words written and the lingering magic there in.

What puts hate into a heart? Prayer is the medicine and I will pray angels keep you loved.

To this end write and read but above all things love yourself.

Louisa

The words I would have you focus on are these Run to the rescue with Love then reread the the band of souls and realize how lucky you actually are to have devoted fans but mainly devoted brothers and family.. Treat yourself with love and kindness and move on dont get stuck in the past. Move forward with pride in all you are!

A band of souls

Its a new day come, come and hold on its a new day we begin again and rehearsals have begun . Each soul has a color and the mirrors on the sand reflects each heart upon the other set like a maze as a octagon of congruent angles caught in a vision of the self. A most heartened view of kind and good faces moved to protect another mirrored image against the foe of evil intent. Defiance sends loving thoughts without surrender without malice for each has played their part. Heartened as the play ends and the curtain comes down the applause is resounding and surrounding each other kind soul. Now do smile and chat of the happy outcomes and the performance of a well written script and the accolades for each player be talked of in deep conversations and discussions of the karmic plots most noted and amazing kisses and handshakes as farewells are said at the theatre exits. A fine play and the players most brilliant and handsome. Such a depth such a honest play beyond beautiful it touches the feeling and transcends the emotion

louisa

No time baby ,im on borrowed time ,come give me your time, I wants you I sees you ,can I please have you ,its only a little time. I dont want to buy the book only borrow it for a time..lol you excite me just your eyes your look come baby give me some time.

A ripple in a pond is all I am and a speck in space ,we drift through life never seeing our truth that we really dont matter we inflate our worth but there are always people wanting to pull us down and never lift us up. I have learnt so much and all of it is about domination and very little else a sad indication of our real worth in the cosmos. Above all be calm and see the world as beautiful and ignore the noise.

I am the breath and the north wind I have wings and will send my thoughts into the breeze.

Fantasy

The world divide of good and evil and how close we walk to the edge . It is an elusion to consider you are one without the other so enjoy the dark and the light but never stay too long in the dark

Black Magic Louisa Jen

In the black of night in that half world we are given our souls begin to drift, to surrender in the dark

We stir beyond the living realm and find our self somewhere in a dream

In a place of fantasy and aspiration a place of  mystery and illusion

delusion is the new reality and fear becomes a friend.

We glide across a sea of trouble and of nightmares into that remembered chaos called  life.

That brain with twisted memories of love the machine that never sleeps allows us  to escape into that other place.

To hang on the edge of space to dares the morality of convention.

To find that magic place where shadows can delight.

Hearts are fired in the chase.

Love and lust are mingled

Never to be abated

Desire and angst

 Passwords to the castle keep.

A trusted friend the reaper, leads the way and seals your fate.

A journey to the interior, has begun

Echo’s from my bleeding heart.

Screams from castles in the sky filled  with  corrupted  desire

Emotions flow like ghosts of the past to rattle the chains that bind.

 Flight  the only option.

Panic and misfortune combine.

Voices, sighs and silence  creep across the garden.

Tears in the dark, blood on the grass.

Lost and torn without enchantment.

Memory faded into corrupted seepage of  imagination.

Consequence delivered with a deadly fright

 Unencumbered the nightmare enlivens every sensation.

Fear and resolution wake me in the dark.

.

 my armour lay all about.

 The beating of my bloodied heart ,echoes in my ears.

 My mind and soul connected rouses  me from my slumber.

In dreams and nightmares, we purge the mind.

The soul renews to fight another day

The light begins the waking dream.

Time elusive and just a bit of fun.

love begins

louisa

           IN THIS FINAL SCENE LOVE OVERTAKES AND THEY RUN TO THE RESCUE BUT TOO LATE.  

RUN TO THE RESCUE WITH LOVE NO MATTER THE OUT COME ITS WHAT MAKES US HUMAN AND WE BUILD BRIDGES TO CROSS.

Health

Healthy eating and exercise can assist problems. Consult your doctor regularly keep bp under control take note of warning signs and act on them to control out comes …Enjoy and lessen stress blood tests and all other testable illnesses please do the tests.. Catch illness early it can make the difference protect yourself at all times… Be aware and be happy to enjoy the time God gives to you and be kind dont make others lives harder and dont pass on hurt.

A taboo subject but more common than thought. I call sexless marriages white marriages since white is purity however divorce can be a result.. Extenuating circumstances could be ill health ! check it out on youtube if you need knowledge.

fish salad dish
Photo by Dana Tentis on Pexels.com

Believe

My father use say worry about the things you can do something about and leave the things you cannot change to god Crusifixion was a normal punishment so jesus knew he would face this and he was prepared to show the roman world that injustice cannot stand and eventually christianity was born out of this miracle of sacrifice.

Believe the impossible is possible and that self empowerment is so important to love yourself. I want you to transcend time and place to imagine yourself in a different time . To rise above and see the full link of every action and reaction historically. The idea that you are independent of your great grandfathers time is an illusion for you are influenced by everything that has gone before.. The body dies but the memories and culture is carried in every aspect of your being. The world around you shifts but you are a beautiful expression of the divine which by its very nature assumes a spiritual knowledge beyond limited theoretical aspect of human interventions. Simply we crave a deity to explain injustice and imbalances implicit in life ,why do bad people prosper so we restore imbalances through spiritualism. People are by nature predators and without spiritual convictions reparations would be non existent. We are in search of God throughout time and we link back to all time through myth language culture we search for what is all around us Spirit.

The Shadow Angle

She spoke in whispers and lived in the shadows. She had rainbow wings that glistened in the moon light.  She loved to dance across the sand.   To watch the water and the waves   She would sometimes wander on the shore, on those golden moonlit nights She listened and heard the happy hearts.  She visited the sad and the lonely ,the sick and the poor. She glowed from the shadows and brought joy into every room. Have you ever woke to glimpse the drifting glow, move quickly out of sight.  Well if you have you will know the shadow angel has touched your heart. For love so needed all across the world came in every window, on every moonlit night.   The colours in her wings as she glided on the rainbows and she listened for every tear.    She worked so very hard to brighten up the night. She couldn’t bear the sun.  So by day she slept in a milky cloud else she wound begin to die.   She was sent from heaven on a mission to work the night shift and care for every soul.   So much to do, so many visits.   She went to all the aching hearts.       She was given magic to share with every soul. For god have given her great gifts of power to spread the joy across the lands.

To connect the world to shine in every shadow. So sleep well and remember the shadow angel is ever near. That no one is forgotten and every tear is heard. So we should all join hands to lift the world to joy.    To see the love on every face sent from up above.

Louisa jen

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The Devil is real and he is your friend. Beware!

Cold embraces from the pitch forked, Demon of hell, Can you smell the smoke, Can you see the fire . Did you hear the shriek from some unearthly creature, see them struggle but chains will not break and death will be their friend,, Look at the melting faces ,Can you hear the devil laugh ,for he fans the flames to die low, I burn too slow I burn too slow and many a friend fueled the fire and wept on their knees. As the blessed clergy declared the devil gone on that last cry. He waved goodbye to their souls and said what a happy day for paradise is near and the devil danced for he had a partner a killer in a sheep’s clothing who carried a bible and prostrated himself before hell. There is no voice no words I am expected to say you blame and tease in cruel jesting and sloganism. Be happy Be strong stay silent and maybe the abuser will see his own fault make his own crime hahahah like asking the devil to put out the fire when he lives for the flame.

The sun hung in the evening sky like a golden orb adrift in ribbons of fire consuming the light in incremental moments of spiritual perpetuity Awe inspiring moments reflected and held within the spectrum of earthly atmospheric drama This mere cosmic routine, miraculous in the reality of day and night we cast our eyes into the heavens and perceive the dying light wonderment silence realisation of our own smallness amongst the mortal souls Believe in eternity believe in power believe in the unbelievable What mighty hand created this world without end

louisa jen

Enchantment

We pass through many doors but at a certain stage unless well healed in all ways there are some doors we dare not enter… People will ever be unmoved to others suffering I think inter connectedness is a fools paradise. Armed conflicts and hard borders are now my advice isnt that sad. Stay in your boxes and deny your humanity cling to false gods and out dated mindsets the world is an ugly invention of your own making BEWARE TRUST NO ONE BUT LOVE ALL STAY ALERT.

Did the frog become the prince or did the princess get warts of the nasty kind.?

See the source image

The word enchant was first used in 1374 from the old French “enchanter” (to sing) based on the idea that some songs are so beautiful they put you under a spell.

The Red Shoes fairy tale, is a stunner. You know the story. A girl covets pretty red shoes to go out dancing away from her responsibilities. So the enchanted shoes hear her wish and dance her to exhaustion. She’s unaware, but if you look closer, little imps are starting to surround her saying, be careful what you wish for. Vanity will take you down. Everything in moderation. (Or whatever else imps say.)

Lately I’ve wished at times to sink into an enchanted snooze like Sleeping Beauty and wake up when things are better. The minute I go to bed my mind pings from one idea to the other, doing a mental Parkour between anxieties, shopping lists, bits of song and worries. Does anyone else feel like they are speed sleep-walking at night? Any remedies that have worked?
Enjoy this lovely book and art. Hope it casts a sweet spell.

The Kiss

Blood dripped from her lips such was the savage kiss of two hearts two mouths two bodies in a twisted connection of tears blood and sweat without regret. Too long she dreamed too long she waited for the kiss and the rose bloomed with dew. A conversation with the world can be enchanting. New intrepid stories new horizons share our worlds. Life is ever changing just go with the flow and maybe things will be ok. Witchcraft has gradually evolved over time… and will continue to do so. Throughout the ages the term “Witch” has labeled healers, medicine men, seers, and every mystical practitioner in between. Not all “Witches” worship the Goddess, as witches are labeled as such in many areas, religions, and traditions of the world.

Up until around 1020 AD, “Witches” were seen in a positive light… healers…wise ones… seers. Many of them also understood how to use plants and nature for healing, and used these skills to help others.

All of that changed under Pope Benedic VIII.

He executed the first “heretic” (a Witch) in 1022. Thus, the “burning times” had begun, and would continue for over 753 years in Europe. People of all races, creeds, and religions…including children, were killed in mass throughout this time.

Torture and death for “Witches” was commonplace.

In fact, in Scotland, James I wrote “Daemonlogie”…which explained various “methods” of determining who was a Witch.

One method was to find the “Witches Mark”, which was a place on the body that felt no pain. Thus, suspected Witches were tormented with needles over every inch of the body in an attempt to find the “Witches Mark” and prove they were a witch.

Another method was to bind an accused Witches hands and feet together and throw them into a river. It was believed (by James I) that since water is a holy substance, it would keep Witches pushed to the surface. Unfortunately, the accused would die either way. If they sank, they’d typically drown. If they floated, there were burned at the stake.

The burning times forced most real Witches to practice in secret.

Starting in 1930, there has been a slow re-emergence of Witchcraft, of multiple traditions.

The leader of the “new age” movement of Witchcraft is and was Gerald Gardner.

Once the “Witchcraft Laws” were repealed in 1951, Witchcraft starated to grow more rapidly. 2 main “new age” groups emerged… one headed by Gerald Gardner, and one headed by Doreen Valiente. Gardner was the main influencer of the Wicca tradition until his death in 1964…and still is a major influencer.

Valiente has been just as important, howerver… as she wrote the Wiccan Rede, and integrated beautiful poetry, lore, and mystique into commonly used rituals and spells.

The number of people involved in Witchcraft has continued to grow into the millions. Popular Witchcraft authors such as Starhawk, Cunningham, Buckland, Telesco, and Ravenwolf have contributed to this modern day resurgence.

There still are a lot of misconceptions…and many Witches still are not comfortable coming out of the “broom closet”… though tolerance has slowly improved, it is still not even close to where it needs to be.

Meditate to these relaxing sounds enjoy life it can be taken any moment.

A rose by any other name is still a rose

Magic

God is always there and even in the silence of surprise!

The quest 

The black knight cast a long shadow

A Dragon maze  led to his castle keep

For there lay the beating heart of  a  slave

A precious prize of golden locks

Blood and fire on the mountain of shadows

A dragons lair of gold and silver

The knight and dragons bonded in blood

The red rose , the black rose

The white rose, the yellow rose

Minions to masticate upon

The mirror cracked

The Dragon’s curse

Habeas corpus

Death of a Butterfly

Perchance murder or suicide

Dragons hate Butterfly’s

Perchance a  toxic dream of fire

Clue; A dragon’s scale

DNA – beast of fire ?

Autopsy completed

louisa Jen

BLACK MAGIC TO KILL DRAGONS

0 thou who desirest a glimp.se of that Face.

Thou needest eyes other than those in thy head Dost thou wish to miss none of those Glances ?

Thou must have eyes in the heart, and within them yet other eye.s.”

■■ The love of thee is not to be bought by every buyer The price of one hair of thine is this world and the next. Thy love is not a rose which blooms in streets and markets, Nor is it such musk ns is found in the pei fumer’s shop.”

“Those complainest of the defilements of the world.

Find not fault with others, for thou, too, art one of the throng. Preserve thiue own skirt from defilement Nami, for the two or three days which thou hast to spend on this midden.”

“ In loving lovely ones one must accustom one’s self to madness, One must lead one’s .soul to the endurance of .separafion-.

One must become as a bottle filled with blood.

And then pour one’s heart out at one’s eye.s.”

“ In our religion thou must ever be constant And keep the faith while in the circle of infidelitv Thiri is the path of love of our beloved.

To stand ever with the sacred thread of idolatry round the neck, and yet remain a Musalma” ’

A rose-garden of beauty Is the cheek of my enslaver. Wht-n it displays I’.self before my wounded heart

raise of the Imam Husain (on him be peace) : —

Whenever, from the fierceness of love’s fire, I burst into flame like a candle,

The flame ever and anon heats against me like a moth.

Since my love has assured himself of ray fidelity and love he emploj’s himself in cruelty.

Would that I had never submitted mr.-^elf to the violence of a test !

If I should become a partaker of tlie boinitj’ of tliy heart

It will be possible for me to convey a hundred tales in one word.

So common has the content of opulence become in the nge’of thj magnanimity

That the soulless body turns with io.atl’iug fiom tlie piospect 301 of life eternal

When the weight of thy comroand.s afl’ecis the nature of the wind

5ven the light breeze oppresses the earth with tlie weight of a mountain.

There i.s no king like me to-day in the kingdom of eloquence,

Whoever doubts this let him test tiie truth of «hat I say by this Bismi’-llah ‘ which I utter.

O ye, beloved of the virgin of reality, when my thoughts soar

They display their beauty through the windows of heaven.”

From another qasidah,

“If craeitj is done by thee my heart cheerfully subniits to

So much love

Light and Dark

Good and evil

A scream, a silent cry

A vampire and his wolf

The shape shifter moved like a mist upon the ground

I touched the black heart and reeled back

I knew the evil intent I felt the hate

I cried a river of tears and my heart grew cold

Ice beautiful but cold like death within one’s soul

To understand light you must experience the dark

There in that darkness a flicker of hope becomes a wisp to illuminate your world

To glow in Gods great heart and to see the spirit within the body

Louisa

Cinderella bit the apple she knew and the witch laughed.

The enchantments are real for sleeping beauty also sleeps

Such a pretty face and she lay in silence within her glass tomb

A kiss to wake her from her frozen dream

Louisa

Midnight in the garden will you meet me there?