These Are The Children Of Ereshkigal, The Dark-eyed: Ninazu, By Gugulanna Heaven's-Bull Namtar, By Father

These are the children of Ereshkigal, the dark-eyed: Ninazu, by Gugulanna Heaven's-Bull Namtar, by Father Enlil who sits enthroned in state Nungal, by the queen of the dead and the dust of time that keeps her secrets. These are their titles. Ninazu, city-god, Enega and Ešunna, death-and-life through vegetation and the shadow of the never-never in his blood. Pitiless mace of war, dying and rising serpent-friend. He will suck the poison from your wounds. Namtar, inexorable. Right hand of the sinister, mouth of hell's crown, messenger of An and Ereshkigal and Nergal. Commander of demons whose very name breathes a plague, unfaltering fate, dutiful minister of his mother's court, Death who is the issue of the Dead's All-Mother. Nungal, the neck-stock, the dusty threshold bolt, the screaming lock, the fanged river of ordeals. Rebirther, reformer, who dwells in the mountain where Utu rises. Hers is that corner of the underworld man can return from reforged, the house of dust and shadows where a broken man sheds his old skin or wears it as burial shroud. Goddess Prison-Warden, her mother's daughter in the realm of men, radiant hope and beautiful despair, cool water of compassion on fevered brows. Hear their names in the bellow of a bull, in the snarl of a dragon, in the tolling-bell tones of their mother and as soft as crematory ash. They sit on the borderline like ravens on a fence, silent dark eyes and subtle croaked secrets, twilight-and-dawn owls, young-and-old serpents. Poison and healing, life found in death. Fear. Learn. Become braver for it. Ereshkigal, for deserved awe of you and your children, may your names be marked by the black-headed ones.

how to get a boyfriend according to the epic of gilgamesh

be a terrible demigod king who rules his people so cruelly that they must call to the gods for help

be so horrible that the gods literally create a man just to deal with your bullshit and let him loose in the woods

send a prostitute to introduce the man to civilization by having sex with him for a week straight

literally have dreams about how much you will love this man

get punched in the face by this man that the gods created for you because you are terrible and need to be stopped

congrats, you have a boyfriend now

Sort of a spiritual cousin over here in Sumer. Yo, Devotee of Nisaba here.

So, I’m not sure I’ve ever encountered any other devotees of Seshat on here. Am I alone?

If you're looking for spider deities, may I suggest Uttu, daughter of Enki? Her story should be under the myth of Enki and Ninhursag. She's technically the first wife according to Sumerian standards, doesn't appear in many records, and is the goddess of weaving.

I was wondering if you know anything about any deities related to spiders. I keep seeing tons of spiders all around my house and I think it's a sign, but I can't figure out from who.

Hello lovely,

Spider deities seems to a rare bunch.My initial response was to think of the story of Arachne and Athena. Arachne was a moral Greek woman who thought she was a superior weaver to Athena, the Greek goddess of weaving. A contest which Athena lost, causing her to in fury turn Arachne into a spider.

But weaving, spiders and destiny seem to be connected in a lot of Mediterranean cultures. Athena was connected with a few other deities, with similar attributes so you might be interested in looking up;Inanna - Sumerian Ishtar - Babylonian Neith - EgyptianTaneith - Libyan Minerva - Roman

Because I’m kemetic, I’m going to talk about Egypt. So there isn’t much evidence of spiders used in mythology in Egypt. I couldn’t even find any examples of spider amulets. But you might find it useful to check out Neith. Neith is a goddess of weaving, and although her connection with Athena only really occurred in the Ptolemaic period, it might still be useful to check as she is still a goddess of weaving.

Also Selqet might be a potential goddess to look up. She is a goddess of protection and although she is mainly represented by scorpions, spiders may fall under her department. (Plus I kinda think the native Egyptian spiders look more like scorpions than house spiders from a quick google search anyway)

Another idea is Anansi, who was recently depicted as Mr Nancy in American gods. He is a shapeshifter god who is often a spider. However don’t know much about this deity at all, beyond his appearance in American gods. I think he might even be from a closed religion…

I hope this was helpful :)

🕷🕷🕷

This was a tricky ask, and I couldn’t have done it alone. Thanks @djehutydevo @djar-em-rekh and @anubianpagan for the brain storming session and the great ideas :)

On Worshipping Gods People Believe Are Dead

It’s winter, which means it is negative seventeen degrees outside, which means I’m on the rooftop burning incense again, prayer keeping my lips from freezing off. I hear Her tell me to go back inside before the cold makes me die up there, but I tell Her that She is fire enough- the sketch of a lion on a scrap of paper in front of me, the epithets scrawled in blue ink on my forearm where my long sleeves can hide them. Accidentally saying oh gods in class and pretending I just really love Rick Riordan. She finds me in my dreams and tells me She will be here when it is safe for me to worship Her but I shrug Her worries off, I am Her lion cub, I am young and still soft but I was built to survive. Remind Her the Gods- not just my Gods but the rest as well- are always calling out. This is resurrection by worship and my mother’s church does not feel holy. I call myself devotee, I call Her patron. Somewhere, a girl is learning to put claws on, the burden of life as a battle. Somewhere, Sekhmet is teaching them how to properly slash and stab, how to win a fight, and how to forget. Somewhere, a girl is learning how to love enough to hold her family together. Somewhere, Hethert is teaching her that it isn’t her job to keep wood from splintering. Somewhere, Serket is teaching her to be the stress on the beam if she has to be. To survive. Somewhere, Bast is teaching a woman how to love her strange, wonderful daughter. Right here, I light the candles with a lighter I stole from my father’s desk. I use my body to shelter the flame from the wind.

Gods have mercy, but I think My tongue tripped over itself today. Between the spark of thought And glitch of grammar My voice shorted out Like the bark of a hammer Against a sore thumb, And what's worse is the manner. See, sometimes my words Trickle out like a river In crystalline rivulets Of claret wine. And sometimes my home-grown Amber waves Upbringing Wellspring of sand-dune soft whispers And sandhill plum prickles Sprouts off of my tongue in the shape of dust devils Forged in the prairie fires Of a hail-blasted Southern church. I breathe the name of a god incarnate King substitute sacrifice When I stub my toe, And groan the name of a lord Who is no master mine. What do I do, when colloquialisms Have colonized my throat? Do I swallow them down, Do I drown them out, Do I let them run unchecked? It might be far more trivial Than it seems right now, for me, But as of yet I cannot tell If it's... feasible or not, to be Knocking down the walls of my well-founded Jericho And replacing them with the ziggurats Of Eresh and Nippur. I know the home of my heart And my soul has ceased its wrenching, But still I breathe the name of God From habit And catch my fists clenching. The field is grown stale and tired, And so the crops are rotated. The land of dust and burial Gives rise to a steadfast windbreak. May I be as strong as the juniper, Half blasted and leaning But proud in solidarity. May the line hold. May my fellows never falter, Stark against the searing blue And waves of amber-gold. Nisaba has erected her house in your precinct, O hall of the god of my mothers, And has taken her seat upon your dais.