Tag Archive: Poetry


Blessed Be!

“Then came cold February, sitting
In an old waggon, for he could not ride,
Drawne of two fishes, for the season fitting,
Which through the flood before did softly slyde
And swim away; yet had he by his side…
His plough and harnesse fit to till the ground,
And tooles to prune the trees before the pride
Of hasting prime did make them burgeon round”

brigid

Brighid Hymn

This is absolutely beautiful!

Adventures and Musings of an Arch Druidess

Hymn to Brighid

Brighid, Lady of flame
Forge of me a link
In the chain
Of strong women
Create a song in my heart
Help me heal with love

Sing me a song of flames
Sing me a song of hammer and anvil
Sing me a song of peace
Sing me a song of creation

Make me strong
Make me shiny
Make me tempered
Make me precious.

Sing me a song of flames
Sing me a song of hammer and anvil
Sing me a song of peace
Sing me a song of creation.

Use me to help
Use me to heal
Use me to create
Use me to make real

Sing me a song of morning
Sing me a song of night
Sing me a song of between times
Sing me a song of your light.

Kat – TOILA Brighid ritual 2001

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The Type – Sarah Kay

There is power in words.
And thoughts.
And actions.
We are power.
We are women.

The Muse & Her Demons

If you grow up the type of woman men want to look at,
you can let them look at you. But do not mistake eyes for hands.

Or windows.
Or mirrors.

Let them see what a woman looks like.
They may not have ever seen one before.

If you grow up the type of woman men want to touch,
you can let them touch you.

Sometimes it is not you they are reaching for.
Sometimes it is a bottle. A door. A sandwich. A Pulitzer. Another woman.

But their hands found you first. Do not mistake yourself for a guardian.
Or a muse. Or a promise. Or a victim. Or a snack.

You are a woman. Skin and bones. Veins and nerves. Hair and sweat.
You are not made of metaphors. Not apologies. Not excuses.

If you grow up the type of woman men want to hold,
you can let…

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May I Feel, Said He – E.E. Cummings

Dear Tom Hiddleston,

I love you.
-heart-

Me.

Under the Big Tree

A little dream, one that wasn’t quite so violent as the others that I’ve had lately.

The Muse & Her Demons

I danced under the big Willow while you watched.

I felt safe, and loved, and admired.
I felt all the things a dancer, a woman, should feel in a moment such as this.

Your eyes followed my lines.
I was fire and water and wind. I was poised chaos.

You watched me, like someone who had just regained their sight, with such passion, that I felt naked and powerful.

I was stripped of all my doubt.
All my fears and worries melted into the dirt with every turn and glide.

The Willow was my theater. Her branches swayed with my music, caressing and kissing me as I spun around.

I danced under the big Willow while you watched.

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Dear Straight People

http://www.upworthy.com/dear-straight-people-we-have-to-talk

A big thanks to ElfKat for posting. 
A HUGE thanks to Denice Frohman for her powerful and poignant slam here in the Twin Cities.