Madam Moon – by Lunah Eir

The hum of waves against the sand,

The breeze kissing my skin.

The way the wind moves each hair strand,

Like the warm touch of healing Kin.


She sits above, on her throne a-way,

Looking into my soul.

She reads the many struggles a day,

And witnesses the toll.


With depth and tide, they all obey,

Wind and storm, no matter.

With tears or laughter, all night she’ll stay,

To watch you cry or laugh, there after.


The moon she is my goddess, my own,

To stay with me forever.

To monitor my tact and tone,

She is my laugh, my love, she is my clever


Just Here… – by Lunah Eir

It’s August. Winter is almost over. The year is almost done.

 I sit here on a Sunday night, after a weekend that I expected to go pear-shaped, and I aint talking hinies, (it didn’t) feeling the best I have in months.

Some action movie playing on mute, long curly hair is up in a ball, awful fitting pants and a vest….plain and simple, ciggie burning in an ashtray because I simply just need to write and get all that I have to say off my chest. A mixture or Bloodhound Gang, Ben Howard and Kings of Leon blaring into my ears through very funny looking headphones (THEY’RE THE “IN THING” I HEAR – AH HUH), with a complete feeling of contentment, of happiness.



Because I’ve decided that this is how I will always feel. Because this is the only life I have, because for some reason I have been blessed with the little I wanted and all I needed. (Eminem has just started playing – *did I add this to my playlist???* – ‘Ive been to the M#^*F&%@ mountain top, heard M#^*F&%@ sing and drop…’)

I started the year awakening to something I had no idea about, to something I was fascinated with but scared of at the same time. I have experienced heart ache that brought a hard-ass like me to my knees, I have experienced confusion, irritation, aggravation, loneliness and hunger for essence. I’ve also experienced the love of a family that doesn’t even know what I look like, I have had privileges to join groups and share in discussions like my opinion actually meant something. I’ve had people put their trust in me. I’ve found what very few do – home. In every way possible.

The point of life I thought was to be a success, to get married, have babies. Have my parents be proud of me, look after my friends. Make lots of money, have nice things… And then I got bitch slapped so hard by life I fell over backwards and saw things for what they really were.

I wasn’t made to be perfect, I was born to be me, in all my imperfect perfection. I was made to make mistakes, I was made to learn the hard way. Made to have hangovers regretting the night before but doing it all again next Friday, made to be rude to a client that gives me shit, made to give the middle finger to friends that actually aren’t friends, made to walk out of a job into a shittier one that makes me happier. I was made to be exactly what I am (‘Howlin’ for You by the Black Keys ‘***Cant this thing go any louder!!!***)

Since I’ve had this crucial tiny piece of self –discovery, all I’ve thought about is why the fork did I not realize this sooner.

Why do we allow ourselves to be labeled. Vampyre, Pagan, Gay, Canadian, White, Male, Disabled. Why can’t we just be people, people that are learning, loving, singing and MAKING MISTAKES. Why can’t we just …. Just who we are.

I leave you with the words of Ben Howard…

‘I’ve been worryin’ that my time is a little unclear
I’ve been worryin’ that I’m losing the ones I hold dear
I’ve been worryin’ that we all, live our lives, in the confines of fear…

Oh I will become what I deserve’.