Women Muse Poems

Why should we 
be allotted a day at all
there is no allotment
we carry the load 
we always have 
we always will
it is au naturale 

we...

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the gulf circle is where 
brown pelicans dive for their 
dinner over the heads 
of the hungry masculine 
wood storks looking men
swarming in schools like...

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"Inside the Winter Wild"

Inside the Wild, 

Winter races 
towards Time 
like a runnaway train

it’s shadowy 
and dark,
yet, inside Winter, 

the wild keeps
without fail
its burning light,...

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a lady of swollen years
sat knitting with glorious colours
she said her name was
saint something or other
I didn't quite catch it
must have been the gum she...

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"Tour of Duty"

go forth and conquer
go forth and multiply
we are taught like 
good little madams, 
it’s fed to us right
(not left) from the get go...

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"The Forest"

In the forest 
we meet strange gods
our reflections 
are seen in their eyes

in our dreams
we remember them
we meet them face on 
we touch them

they...

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"Who Put Luebella down the Wych Elm?"

There are rumours
about me, some 
come seeking me
with their geiger counters
and ouji boards
with their heart 
shaped planchettes

unanswered questions
in the...

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“In the time when the heart beat slows” 

In the time when 
the heart beat slows
I close my eyes 
and meet you there
that place of...

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Such a fine future, his
for the taking,
as hers aligned,
also
in fine fitting will..

though Tehachapi waits..,
still. 

There's no such thing
as a bright future,
without a silhouetted past..

climbing a...

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"The Liberation" 

When your home
is torn out from underneath you,
like a rug or a tablecloth,
nothing of value is left standing
on the surface, except silence.

life implodes...

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Stone stubborn, strictly stuck until struck.
Then mined like gushing gold, loquacious litter.
From hills and dales, from stillness and storm,
fickle muse must be courted and coaxed....

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"As other spirits sail on music, mine, oh my love, swim on your perfume." Charles Baudelaire

"Sometimes you find an old bottle from which the soul...

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Behold Queen of Priestesses 
I bow my head in your sanctuary
Of cool stone, circling your obelisk 
Receiving roses and papyrus
to cover my breasts
of aching love...

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“Strange Creatures and The Forest of Egregore” 

Where do we go -

when our rosebuds
stop still in the cold,
unwanted, 
along the unopened road?

we walk into the...

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"Envelope"

We knew what we were about
when we signed up 
the other side of the mirror
mothers become gods 
for a short while 
and perhaps 
long after

what...

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