Cradles it now, climate-controlled, in her concave belly.
She’s cedar, stained dark from time,
from human hands and fish oil,
a century’s-long avalanche
of sand.

So holding, she becomes everything’s mother:
all bounty, all food, all tidbits, even
the earth and air. Thus she offers
her power of bearing to your
command.

Head, arms, legs splayed, she’s open to anything:
salmon, oolichan oil, seaweed, berries,
your curious eye; her emptiness
is fullness, her submission
demand.

Neile Graham

“Life is a hard thing for a woman. Your tall supple body will grow bent like mine, and broken with childbearing; your hands will become twisted — and your mind will grow strange and grey — with the toil and the weariness — and the everlasting face of a man you hate … look at me. Would you become as I?”

Robert E. Howard
Sword Woman

For Woman, in her weakness, is yet the strongest force upon the earth. She is the helm of all things human; she comes in many shapes and knocks at many doors; she is quick and patient, and her passion is not ungovernable like that of man, but as a gentle steed that she can guide e’en where she will, and as occasion offers can now bit up and now give rein. She has a captain’s eye, and stout must be that fortress of the heart in which she finds no place of vantage. Does thy blood beat fast in youth? She will outrun it, nor will her kisses tire. Art thou set toward ambition? She will unlock thy inner heart, and show thee roads that lead to glory. Art thou worn and weary? She has comfort in her breast. Art thou fallen? She can lift thee up, and to the illusion of thy sense gild defeat with triumph. Ay, Harmachis, she can do these things, for Nature ever fights upon her side; and while she does them she can deceive and shape a secret end in which thou hast no part. And thus Woman rules the world. For her are wars; for her men spend their strength in gathering gains; for her they do well and ill, and seek for greatness, to find oblivion. But still she sits like yonder Sphinx, and smiles; and no man has ever read all the riddle of her smile, or known all the mystery of her heart. Mock not! mock not! Harmachis; for he must be great indeed who can defy the power of Woman, which, pressing round him like the invisible air, is often strongest when the senses least discover it.

H. Rider Haggard
Cleopatra

made of flesh and blood

December 28, 2019

The summer she was fifteen, Melanie discovered she was made of flesh and blood. O, my America, my new found land. She embarked on a tranced voyage, exploring the whole of herself, clambering her own mountain ranges, penetrating the moist richness of her secret valleys,  a physiological Cortez,  da Gama or Mungo Park.  For hours she stared at herself, naked, in the mirror of her wardrobe; she would follow with her finger the elegant structure of her rib-cage, where the heart fluttered under the flesh like a bird under a blanket, and she would draw down the long line from breast-bone to navel (which was a mysterious cavern or grotto), and she would rasp her palms against her bud-wing shoulderblades. And then she would writhe about, clasping herself, laughing, sometimes doing cartwheels and handstands out of sheer exhilaration at the supple surprise of herself now she was no longer a little girl.

Angela Carter
The Magic Toyshop

you’re what I need

November 10, 2019

I’m saying that I’m a moody, insecure, narrow-minded, jealous, borderline homicidal bitch, and I want you to promise me that you’re okay with that, because it’s who I am, and you’re what I need.

Jeaniene Frost
Halfway to the Grave

ancient powers

October 27, 2019

As a child, playing, I imagined I had super powers. Then one day, suddenly, unexpectedly, I realised that such powers were ‘real’! And I had them!

It was a truly amazing moment!

This realisation had grown from distant, long buried memories of ancient powers that all women possessed. Something biological, I felt it to be. Something passed from generation to generation, mother to daughter. Now, this discovery of an ancient truth transformed my life. One day I was a child at play, the next a Shaman-ess with growing awareness of my inherent power.

P

Becoming a Witch

October 26, 2019

Fuck your karma, I don’t need it! I’ve descended the dark chasm of self, glimpsed the chaos of ego, and returned to the light. I’ve reached for the moon and stars, whispering the secret words I learned from them. My chaos is now controlled. My self is a spear of pure power. I own the darkness. I’ve become the dream you never want to meet, and I wear each of my scars like badges of honour. Yes, I have changed – mutated, if you will. Become a living, breathing manifestation of the Goddess. Hathor, Isis, Aphrodite are one with me. I am volcanic. I have power and I’m not afraid to use that power – so beware. For I am the fertility of the Earth and of the Goddess, celebrating the cycles of seasons. I am Alpha and Omega: woman and witch, overflowing with holy rage. So, again, Beware, I say.

P

Masturbation

September 1, 2019


(A woman without man is like a fish without a bicycle.)

A woman can’t live without a man?
Ha, what logic, the logic of a ghost! Bah bah!
Throw the ball,
Don’t let orchids embrace you at all,
Don’t go to poisonous ant bushes.
Push yourself into sensuousness.
You have the bow, you have the arrow.
Do it girl, masturbate.

Taslima Nasrin

 

The body needs stimulation and the mind poetry. Masturbation offers a safe way to explore our bodies and encourages blood flow. The dopamine release makes us feel better and relieves tension.

Poetry and masturbation are about self-discovery. It’s why they go so well together. We can’t limit our self-awareness to fleeting thoughts. We have physical senses that are waiting to be used on ourselves, boys & girls, for our pleasure and for our poetry…