reclaiming MEDUSA

[Whitebird Sings]

Charlotte, Grace, Janet and Caroline
have come home

with tears streaming down my cheeks
i run out to meet them
and i embrace them

and grandmother dances round

welcome home sisters

we gather in Uganda too
the circle is growing


http://www.nytimes.com/2005/05/08/magaz ... 9d&ei=5070

[Whitebird Sings]

i dream of a time

i dream
of a time
before the war gods

i dream
of a time
when the One
washed over us

i dream
of a time
when we walked
hand in hand
by the river
without fear

i dream
of a time
when we took
our naked bodies
and
immersed
ourselves
in
primordial waters --

i dream
of a time
when we were
male and female soup,
drinking deep
filling you and filling me --
washing over us
washing in us

i dream of a time
exhale
inhale

i dream
of a time
and
i pray...
let this dream
take flight
and
return to us
as life
without limit

let us be
who we are meant
to be

without limit

[judih]

i dream of a time when time walks with me
smiling effortlessly,
remembering the past and future
laughing at the silliest of happenings
sudden insights how that was like this
and how tomorrow will be as yesterday

whimsical walks on the planet
how this place is so like the last
and how we are as we've always been

who would've guessed that time
could be so familiar

[Tilly]

Hi Judih and Whitebird Sings.

Your words fill me with wonder at the glories of womanhood. So glad you are both in my life.

I am not a poet, or at least not all the time, so I'll venture in here and read your words and be ONE with all.

Peace,

Tilly

[hester_prynne]

Like a loyal leaf
I fall in,
to stand beside
my sister's
in strength.
Humbly,
I join
in circle of,
Medusa,
the chorus of
her sweet call
to peace,
singing it,
hearing it,
loud and clear;
drinking it in,
unblinking,
amidst the
futile sirens
of war,
and unpeace,
death,
and unlife.
I stand with
you
strong,
infallible,
tho immortal,
yet I remain
in spirit
forever,
a daughter,
mother,
sister,
unbought,
unsold,
by rampant
warlords,
that lead
the weak,
claiming
righteousness,
in their unawake.
Ego,
lies,
ownership,
war,
and fear,
Be Gone!

Hand in hand,
in sisterhood

H

(Beautiful, strengthing thread here.
WOWS, all around.....)

[Tilly]

The hardest thing about living Kabul
Is not the constant dust
Is not the constant threat
Is not the constant lock down
It is having all these people around.

Around all of the time
Lock the door to keep them out
Lock the door to keep me in.

Carry my bag
Carry my lap top
Carry my cup of coffee
Carry my dog
Make my bed
Empty my ashtray
Can’t turn around without running into them.

Make my breakfast
Make my lunch
Make my dinner
Serve my every desire,
Or so they think.

A handshake and 3 kisses
Morning and evening
Watching my every move,
Is it curiosity or disdain?

Arms covered
Chest covered
Ankles covered
Hair covered
Where am I under all of this?

Dishes washed
Clothes washed
Underwear ironed
Bathroom cleaned
Bedroom cleaned
What is left for me to do
In this constant lock down?

Lock the door, lock them out
Have a moment’s peace
Strip down, run around
Jump on the bed, play with the dogs
To my own Medusa true.

So, I am not a poet, maybe none of the time. But sometimes words escape and journey across the page before I can think.

t

[stilltrucking]

All I know about medusa is from sylvia plath's novel and poetry about her mother
Her mother dismissed the novel as part of her daughter's insanity
but the theme runs through much of her poetry even after she was "cured"
I don't know why I have such an obsession with that woman
Like a muse to me
I picked up the bell jar more than thirty years ago, and I have read it at least ten times since then. The first paragrah just hit me like a truck. This shiksa who was so stupid about executions, that queer sultry summer day they executed the Rosenbergs. They say she was a proto-feminist. I don't know about that. But I believe male feminism is bull-sh*t feminism. I suppose I might be a proto-feminist which is about as good as I can do with this man body of mine. I believe in the constitution not the burqa. Slowly the law was evolving to give woman her due. Now we seem to be taking two steps backward.

They say we have another brain in our abdomen, (the enteric brain) that expression "gut reaction" or the biblical "yearn for you in my bowels" has more meaning than I thought. I don't know if this sounds sexist, but:
Since women have such more going on in that belly of theirs, I wonder if you all think deeper thoughts then us wombless men.

But sometimes words escape and journey across the page before I can think.

Sometimes my words don't escape they just fall out of my mouth and hit the floor. And no one hears the sound they make
that was poweful piece tilly.
Take care.

[Tilly]

Some of the most powerful words and lessons have come from men of great intelligence, sensitivity and compassion and because of this I don't believe we are that different. Somewhere along the line things got all f'd up. My personal belief is that a change took place in our human community/society when we stopped hunting and gathering, settled into communities, became agriculturalists and began having a surplus. I think that at that moment in time a paradigm shift took place, no longer did we hunt and gather only what we needed - rather we kept growing more and more and much more than we needed because in that there was power. The surplus necessitated some sort of protection from those that would take it as their own. The women had always been the agriculturists (gatherers), while the men were sent out to hunt - the women's agricultural production, whether it was from gathering berries, etc., or later from cultivation, is what fed the family most of the time. With the advent of a surplus, the men turned their hunting activities into defense of the stuff. This is where we started down the path of men killing men, women and children - of men dominating and violating women and children and those that are weaker in some way. Of men misinterpreting the words of our teachers and obscuring the women of history. Power is a heady thing, and it is not easy to let it go. What we experience is so ingrained in our society, in our global consciousness, that it feeds on itself and we cannot get out of it - except that we can, those of us that see have to DO something. If we all come together in sensitivity and compassion, we can influence and change man's mind, and reawaken the goddess within each of us.

I hear the sound your words make. Thanks!
t

[hester_prynne]

"With the advent of a surplus, the men turned their hunting activities into defense of the stuff"....

Tilly this is definately something to ponder.

As is the poem you wrote....which I really enjoyed by the way, and I hear you.
Sending you wishes of many Medusa moments, just like you described, sounds as if time alone with her is rarely an option.

Don't have words to express how I feel Tilly.
Full heart.
This is truly a wonderful thread all around.

Please take care....
good care....
H

[jimboloco]

woah i'ma gettin outa th way!
whirling feminist witches
making a fray, a fright,
it's a damn good thing tho,
mankind is unable to understand his own suffering
and so he perpertrates it over and again
only able to express his anger
oh yes there are women like this as well
and men who make the leap into moments of joy
then abble to see suffering with some detachment and therfore
compassion for self and otherzzzzz
yet the strength of the feminine side bears revealing
may sanity prevail
witch moon tea with coarse cane sugar.

[Whitebird Sings]

i have been traveling
for a time

perhaps it's an eternity

in search of questions
to answers

in search of
a planet
to care for

wherever i wander,
this island
community
remains
in me

island rhythms
are what move me

the rhythms
of gaia,
the rhythms
of medusa,
the rhythms
of inanna

all
one

powerful one

i step out of the water (but not completely)
gentle breeze (moves my hair)
soft sand (caresses my feet)
bright sun (warms my essence)

i walk,
i run,
and
i spiral dance --
as i approach the gate,
violet lotus
in my hands

and there
as
all-ways
Sappho stands
smiling (pause)
welcoming (pause)
all (deep breath)

new voices i hear

the circle is growing
as time moves on

reclaiming
reconciling
are we

no need to fear us witches

our power is used in the dance
of conception
gestation
cultivation
and
birth
and
death

rhythms (spiraling, i dance)

(stop)
(i move close to you
and you to me
and we to her)
standing side by side
shoulder to shoulder
with Medusa

women of wondrous sisterhood
and some good brothers too

tell us what you call yourselves

and
dance
with us
some more...

(love in abundance)

[jimboloco]

http://www.myarth.net/violet-lotus.jpg

[Whitebird Sings]

ahhh
look there

you too
carry
the violet
lotus

walk
with me

let's walk
the lush
green
hills
beneath
the stars --
together,
spinning
spinning
the illuminous
violet
lotus
flowers
held in our hands
over our hearts

(let's
you
and I
breathe deep

and
come alive

with pulsing
spiraling
violet
blue
warm
and
deep
vibrations)

the lotus'
grow
brighter

and
violet
blue
light
moves down
the stems

and
travels
up our arms

(vibrations --
pulsations --
orgasmic
sensations...
and
colour)

up and out

showering
violet
blue
light

down upon us

medusa approaches
the snakes are swaying

the kundalini
in us
has been awakened

medusa
draws close
snakes swaying

she will guide us

female
and
male
walking
hand in hand
on
a path
of peace
and
of unity

sappho at the gate
isis smiles
and
sirius
shines bright

[Whitebird Sings]

longing to reclaim
that which is my familiar,
i have found my way back...

retracing sappho's steps
i am standing on the edge
contemplating the leap.

i am prepared to jump.
it is not fear that stops me.
it is not knowing what
i feel i need to know.

i am asking for a sign
to tell me which direction,
when...
and i wonder too,
whose arms
await me.

join me in the night sisters,
there beside the water
on the path we've tread so often.

walk with me
and
whisper to me your wisdom
so that with the morning light
i will know what it is
i need to know...

dohiya.

[judih]

reclaiming Medusa
rehearing the reclaiming
rehearsing the rehearing
and reliving the rehearsing

It's a big act
a huge performance
in four score and twenty

those who outlive the five acts
hang out in the wings
flying over the players

we play in the orchestra
we rest when required
and surge when conducted

we hear the rhythm
and supply the harmony
our notes are clear
we squeak or mis-time
then we breathe out, breathe in
and try again

We reclaim our right to reclaim
We persevere
as we know we must

It ain't over till the fat lady sings
and we ain't yet fat enough