These are linked poems created week by week for a year, inspired by the book No Choice But To Follow, and the poets therein who did it first.

Tuesday, 29 July 2014

July #4

Easy, Do What's Right
A Dedication

I walk in procession
by candlelight, 
cloaked in white 
for my pure intention. 

We form a circle. 
I make affirmation
claiming myself as Goddess,
Daughter of the Divine.

The two women presiding
gently remove the white, 
enfold me
in my own rich magenta.

Earlier, my magenta cloak
lay stretched across the altar
between the candelabra
and the ceremonial sword.

Alone in the temple
I, who in my long life
bent the knee to none,
was moved to kneel to the Goddess.

Private vows; public avowal.
Afterwards all the women dance,
and I with them,
in our cloaks of light.

I am wrapped
in the peace of the Goddess,
embraced by the warmth
of my sisters.

I walk forward
into this new, late stage of life
and find it easy,
knowing it is right.

— Rosemary Nissen-Wade

Wednesday, 23 July 2014

July #3


Like a pill
grim and white
I must take,
good for me,
so they say,
take the nasty
dreams away!

I swallow
so much dreck
from high-ups
smiling wide
wearing suits
planting seeds
poison fruits.

Smell the beans
what it means
to be snowed
be kowtowed
be reduced,
zeroed, cowed.

Stand up, stretch
look around
take it in
what is there,
not the show
see what’s wrong
make it fair.

Spit the pill
grim and white
stuff what’s easy
do what’s right.

— Michele Brenton

Tuesday, 15 July 2014

July #2

To Leave, To Love, To Make

To Leave

The heat leeches from my dry skin
as soon as I abandon the hearthside.
The house sleeps behind me,
and in my seven layers I go
into winter's night under new Moon.
Seven shades past black to true dark.
With finger whitened to bone, I cast circle,
shivering inside.
The earth plane drops away.
I am between the worlds.

To Love

To love the world so much
that magic must be done
close to equinox
when the Moon is yet to swell with possibility,
and the world teeters between death and life.
To love the world enough
to hold seven veils of chiffon
and have them fall, one, two, three,
through the chant
for the dropping of illusion,
truth to be revealed,
for honesty and love to show through.
Seven veils for the seven gates
of Inanna.
To love the world so much
that corruption is willed away,
and lies in government
grow thin as chiffon.
A chant, a mantra for each veil,
a gateway into light.

To Make

In the last minutes of the new Moon,
before She begins to birth herself,
with the power of seven elements – 
air, water, fire, earth, metal, spirit, mind – 
I feel in my cupped hands
the idea of how the world could be,
and it sings one united clean song.
I feed in energy, through the top of my head,
down my body, out my hands,
strengthening, enlarging the vision.
I let it go to embrace the world.

The spell is done.
Circle is open, unbroken.
The hearth welcomes me as a pilgrim.

— Helen Patrice

Monday, 7 July 2014

July #1

Does this mean I’m ready to wake?

Was there an earthquake?
A tremor, even?
A slight jolt?

Is my body in revolt?
Will this darkness last forever?
Oh, get a cup of tea, give me a break!

Relaxation music – imagine a lake:
its beauty, not the depths,
keep breathing!

Ah, stillness,
empty mind, not mind-full,
call upon the Dreamtime, the snake.

How many planetary rotations will it take?
Revolutions? Rebellions?
Interrupted sleeps?

Laughters and weeps?
At least I know I’m alive, tossing.
Until the bed becomes something

to leave, to love, to make.

— Jennie Fraine