Today marks the 17 year Anniversary of the untimely death of Jeff Buckley. On May 29th, 1997, Buckley dove into the Wolf River, a tributary of the Mississippi River, only to surface as a beautiful ghost.

At the time of his passing, I had only heard tales of his music and live performances from friends and clients. Oddly enough, time and again I went to record stores and wound up holding his CD in my hands, studying the covers — staring into his face. Still, each time I left the store without purchasing his music.

Once, after giving a Psychic Reading to Maynard James Keenan (the vocalist for the magickal music group Tool), he told me he was going to see Jeff play at the Troubador. I wanted to go, but for some reason, didn’t — much to my lasting regret.

Buckley Virgin: On June 4, 1997 I was at a KROQ concert with Nancy Berry (the former Vice-Chairman of Virgin Records) and several of her friends. A friend of Nancy’s, a singer named Christopher Shinn, offered to give me a ride to an after party at the Chateau Marmont, which I accepted.

On the drive back, Chris told me his favorite singer was Jeff Buckley. I felt at that point the Universe was definitely conspiring to get me to buy Buckley’s CD, and made a mental note to get it immediately, after Chris continued raving about it. In the car, Chris put on Jeff’s debut album, Grace, and played the track So Real. By the end of the song I was in tears, completely blown away by the sheer beauty of not only the music, but the power and sincerity of Jeff’s mighty, angelic voice. After the song was over, Chris said, “Yeah, it’s a real shame he’s gone.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. When I asked Chris what he meant, he explained that Jeff had mysteriously “disappeared”, and no one had seen him since he went swimming on the night of May 29th, (1997). I was devastated twice that night.

The next day I went out and bought a copy of Grace, and played nothing else (except for a little Satchel and Pigeonhed) for months. His music is that good.

Getting back to my story, 6 days after I first heard Jeff’s music, his lifeless body was found, floating on the banks of the Mississippi River, near Beale Street. The music world went into a period of mourning. Anybody who was familiar with his music was absolutely devastated by the news. The legend of Jeff Buckley was born.

There is much left to my story, but I’ll post the amazing details on my Magickal Forum as soon as I can.

For those of you who don’t know Jeff’s music, please visit Official Jeff Buckley Site for more about his life, and his music.

All I can say now is, Jeff — wherever you are, thank you for the music, the beauty that you shared with all of us, stuck down here without you.

“Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince, And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!” (Shakespeare)
(- Horatio, Hamlet (V.ii.370-371).

Note: I created this special image, based on a photograph taken by Merry St. Cyr. It has since been posted everywhere, without the artists’ credit. So, now you know where it came from.

The great poet, Maya Angelou passed away today on the New Moon in Gemini.

She was an amazing person who lived a full life, and shared her wisdom with us for a great part of it.

I would like to share one of my favorite poems she wrote, along with a link to a recording of Maya reading it aloud. Click on the above link to read more of her work. Maya, you will be missed. ~V~

Phenomenal Woman (Video)

Phenomenal Woman
By Maya Angelou

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size   
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms,
The span of my hips,   
The stride of my step,   
The curl of my lips.   
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,   
That’s me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,   
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.   
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.   
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,   
And the flash of my teeth,   
The swing in my waist,   
And the joy in my feet.   
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Men themselves have wondered   
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them,   
They say they still can’t see.   
I say,
It’s in the arch of my back,   
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.   
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.   
When you see me passing,
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,   
The bend of my hair,   
the palm of my hand,   
The need for my care.   
’Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Maya Angelou, “Phenomenal Woman” from And Still I Rise. Copyright © 1978 by Maya Angelou. Used by permission of Random House, Inc.


Source: The Complete Collected Poems of Maya Angelou (Random House Inc., 1994)

The Sword
By Voxx Voltair ©

To Damascus
We go
Where the planets show
Their barbaric swords
In the form of air

The silent killer hangs
Darts for the throat, with invisible hands
Strangles a child
Eyes stuck open, seeing Nothing
The way adults do

Everything is possible
Now that life is gone
No disappointment
No, “No”

Freedom forever
Being paid for with a single, last breath

Young men heaving
Trying for air, with no luck
For you see, luck has run
Out

Like a wild Adonai, crying out
“For I will come as a thief in the night…”
The Lord does not lie.
He delivers
(Being a God for some)

When will humanity believe more in action, than word?
When will the plan of love, put forth?
When will a single God be enough?

Is this void desert
In the Middle of it all
A place where evolution goes backward?

There may be a day when the Lord accepts
Cane’s gift of plant and fruit
And is no more impressed by the blood and guts of Abel

I know if I were God,
I would love the gift of both sons equally

Then, is it God’s flaw?
A mistake to favor one son over another?
Is this where it all goes
So horribly wrong?

History has proven that man only mirrors
God’s confusion in Himself
…But, God is perfect
So it is merely man pretending to understand God,
And failing.

God has many dimensions
Too many to be seen
At one time

He is All and Everywhere
Yet we see Nothing
Nothing but women and men
Writhing on the ground
Unable to even scream in agony
Such is their suffocating pain.
This, we deem necessary to inflict upon our brothers and sisters
Our children

These human beings, mere targets for poison and rockets.
Just faceless creatures
Beyond an unseen border
Belonging to no one, really
Lines, subjective

It must end, before we do
Before the boundary of War seeps
Out the sides of itself
Rushing the farthest shore.

Then, it will be too late
As History proves each time

There will always be a Dictator
An Eye Con
Who will sway the masses
To tear down a faction from personal distaste

Throngs invariably follow fools,
As suicides fling their ghosts over cliffs

Wisdom is always Past Tense
The future pretends to be Unknown
As a child covers its eyes
Believing itself Invisible
Invincible

We all know quite clearly, what the day brings
Another chance to prove our evolution possible

We must abolish thoughts of God
If all we are capable of is misinterpreting
His command

Love is not a fist, nor a bomb
Nor a traitor’s kiss

God is not an excuse for hatred and ill will

The madness must end
These words will see to it

One day, these words will reach wise ears
Those ears will do more than hear
They will know the Word
They will finally act on command
They will force the hand
To release the Sword

~Dedicated to the victims of the gassing in Syria, 8/21/13~

It is 6:00am, May 21st, 2013. I predict a Death Sentence for Jodi Arias. As I predicted months ago on my radio and television shows.

Anyone who has seen the photos of Travis in death, will be haunted forever. No one deserves what happened to him. May his tortured spirit rest in eternal peace.

~Voxx~

Today marks the 116th Birthday of the great Poet, Antonin Artaud. He is considered one of the first, and greatest Surrealist Poets. Artaud was also the Father of modern avant-garde cinema, as well as one of the first screen stars in cinematic history.

Artaud’s mesmerizing beauty haunts several early films, including the early masterpiece by Carl Theodor Dreyer, “The Passion of Joan of Arc” (1928), and many others.

If you have never heard of Artaud, I urge you to discover his works for yourself. For your benefit, I have included one of his shorter poems below. Please take the time to learn more about this most gifted of artists, one of the greatest of all time. And please remember to say a prayer for his soul, which was tortured during his time on earth. May he rest in divine peace for eternity.

Please also visit this Antonin Artaud Link for more information on Artaud, and take the time to read more of his poetry, and other works of mastery. I will soon post his Astrological Chart for those interested.

Jardin Noir
By Antonin Artaud

Spin the eddies of the sky inside these black petals.

Shadows have covered the earth that bears us.

Open a pathway to the plough amongst your stars.

Enlighten us, escort us with your host,

Silver legions, on the mortal course

Which we strive towards at the core of night.

Blessings & Light,
~Voxx~