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A Word About Tits
Aeolian Heart
Blood
Bring on the Blood
Chalice
Charletons and Snake Oil Freaks
Cosmic Consciousness
Doula
Drunk with My Creative Muse
Emotional Bouquets
Empower My Cunt
Favorites of a Menstruating Woman
Hatha Yoga
Hurt Again
I am a Gentle Woman
I am Called Too Big
I am Determined to See
I am the Bountiful Witch
I am Wombin
I Cried Today
I have Created a Womb-in
I like Me
In the Wheel
I Want
I’ve Learned to Hold my Tougue
Imbolc Spring Cleaning Candlemas
Jealousy is Hard and Cold
Leave Me to Be
Menopausal Wimmin
Menopausal Witch
Merry Meet Lady Luna
Mundane Magick
My Beloved Dead
My Garden is Me
Our Lady of the Starry Night
People Marks
Pre Moon Shakti
Riding Estrogen Bareback
Round and Soft
Seeing People
Suck It Up
The Celtic Cross of Taste
The Child Within
The Place Between Right and Wrong
The Romance of the Sky King and the Earth Mother
Tortured Soul
Unwanted Change
Vulvahhhh
War
When Deep Sadness is like Labor
When the Moon is Right
Wimmin
Witches and Mediums
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Everywhere I go, I find a poet has been there before me.
-Sigmund Freud
Leave Me to Be
Leave me be
Can’t you see I’m in the Red Tent
The sacred three days
The time set apart
The tithe
While there I go to the
Place of the dead
The home of all mysteries
I groan and moan
I’m covered up in darkness
Leave me to be
A woman bleeds and bleeds
She doesn’t die
The men are dumbfounded
Only women can truly
Be witches as the bloodletting must be
Magick of some banal sort
Don’t touch the food!
Don’t look on me with your Evil Eye
You are unclean
And must be ceremonially re-instated
When you are done with that..
Time
The moon, the moon
Herself conspires with the woman
The blood, red moon
She causes the tides to wane
What are they doing in that red tent?
It can’t be good
For we are without our fresh baked bread
Who is to do all this work
While they cast their spells?!
In the red tent we revel in the sweet nectar
Of sister-ness
We know we create the world
But that knowing
That is-ness
Stays in the background
Our joy is in serving
In making the mundane bloom like spring
We are the beauty makers
The maifestors of bliss
In humility we fashion the bodies
Of our children within the hiding place
We nourish our offspring with
Honey milk from our breasts
The alchemy of our oven creates a family
A nest of the elderfolk
The soft fragrance of our alluring mounds
The mound of Venus
Draws a man from a life of frustrated wandering
To ecstatic belonging
In our red tent we rest from this great work
In our red tent we are heard
And our complaints are absorbed into the earth
Of each other
And we are renewed
We then walk out to be
Ceremonially
Re-instated
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