Category Archives: WOMEN WE SHOULD KNOW

and so it goes… by pd lyons (re edited and re dedicated to the supreme court of merika) by pd lyons


In My Country

Women walk on eggshells

The way they dress is a rapist’s defence strategy

Their silence confers consent

Their bodies always up for grabs

In every way

There is no privacy especially of the womb

They may be legally and religiously sacrificed on the altar of boys-will-be-boys

They may be murdered at will

But have dubious right to self defence

They are not heard

They are not believed

They are not counted

Their labour not valued

That they are

Our mothers

Our sisters

Our daughters

Our beloved

May be conveniently ignored by law now

Legally 

They are property

of the god

of the party

the state

.

re edited and re dedicated to the supreme court of merika 5.5.22 pd lyons

change is….. (Kore Chant from Starhawk) for the day that’s in it. 1 Feb. 23


Kore Chant

 

Her name cannot be spoken

Her face was not forgotten

Her power is to open

Her promise can never be broken.

 

All seeds She deeply buries

She weaves the thread of seasons

Her secret, darkness carries

She loves beyond all reason.

 

She charges everything She touches, and

Everything She touches, changes.

Change is, touch is; Touch is, change is.

Change us! Touch us! Touch us! Change us!

Everything lost is found again,

In a new form, In a new way.

Everything hurt is healed again.

In a new life, In a new day.

[Repeat any and all verses.]

 

 

from The Spiral Dance  by Starhawk

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Spiral_Dance

 

 

blessed be.

Could She But Think of Cape Cod – by pd lyons


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Could She But Think of Cape Cod

Sand spray ridges

Heartbeat trombone ocean

still out of sight

flavours

her hair

Sifting down out to the open beach

Opalized stones

Darker lighter sand

Crazy north east breakers

Bit by bit

Unnecessaries trail

Shoes Coat

Shirt Skirt

Polka dot bra unmatched pink panties

A string of moonish pearls

Returned

from Bella & Shirley a poetical novel by pd lyons


DSC_2882

It Was Tilkon And The Others from the Lady Camp

 Still alive.

Moving

Milling

Around me.

Our women.

Our people.

Alive.

Our women.

My women.

Alive.

The ground gives beneath me

Their voices drift.

Their arms support me

My weapons

My gear

Removed.

And I am carried

To one of their tents.

To one of their beds.

Sheets sun dried stiff sheets.

Sheets so white I must close my eyes

So, clean I must turn my face into their scent and weep no more.

and so it goes… by pd lyons (re edited and re dedicated to the supreme court of merika)


In My Country

Women walk on eggshells

The way they dress is a rapist’s defence strategy

Their silence confers consent

Their bodies always up for grabs

In every way

There is no privacy especially of the womb

They may be legally and religiously sacrificed on the altar of boys-will-be-boys

They may be murdered at will

But have dubious right to self defence

They are not heard

They are not believed

They are not counted

Their labour not valued

That they are

Our mothers

Our sisters

Our daughters

Our beloved

May be conveniently ignored by law now

Legally 

They are property

of the god

of the party

the state

.

 

re edited and re dedicated to the supreme court of merika 5.5.22 pd lyons

from the bookshelf ~ Joisha Allen’s Wife



Marietta Holley (pen namesJemyma, later, Josiah Allen’s Wife;[1] July 16, 1836 – March 1, 1926), was an American humorist who used satire to comment on U.S. society and politics. Holley enjoyed a prolific writing career and was a bestselling author in the late 19th century, though she was largely forgotten by the time of her death. Her writing was frequently compared to that of Mark Twain and Edgar Nye. Along with Frances Miriam Whitcher and Ann S. Stephens, Holley is remembered as one of America’s most significant early female humorists. Holley’s work appealed to all classes of society. Her readers are scattered over the entire world and include men and women of every station and grade. Her books are widely read in Europe.[2]

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marietta_Holley

As we are moving we are finding many books we have forgotten we had. So here’s one.

#women

through her he was to know god by pd lyons


through her he was to know god

she brought him inward

through a darkness full of wonder

empty of fear

she shared him mysteries

free from all that was jagged

it was not big

it was not seduction

it was an encompassing healing

a grace full of joyful weeping

silence the first breath he ever fully took her beauty communion

change is….. (Kore Chant from Starhawk)


DSC_0053

Kore Chant

Her name cannot be spoken

Her face was not forgotten

Her power is to open

Her promise can never be broken.

All seeds She deeply buries

She weaves the thread of seasons

Her secret, darkness carries

She loves beyond all reason.

She charges everything She touches, and

Everything She touches, changes.

Change is, touch is; Touch is, change is.

Change us! Touch us! Touch us! Change us!

Everything lost is found again,

In a new form, In a new way.

Everything hurt is healed again.

In a new life, In a new day.

[Repeat any and all verses.]

from The Spiral Dance  by Starhawk

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Spiral_Dance

blessed be.

Happy New Year, from May Sarton & Carl Jung and my Good Dad


one of the benefits of growing up with a dad who was an out of print / second hand book seller – or as it was back in the pre computer days , a book scout; was that he would give me little gems that he thought were ” up my alley”.  As a teenager i was given things like Henry miller, James Joyce, Tolkien, Tanith Lee, Anais Nin, etc. these days i am no teenager but i am well blessed with books.

currently i am re reading a beautiful book once given to me by my dad. Of course i no longer have the copy he gave me, one of us may have sold it years ago, or maybe it perished in my own great water in the storage space disaster of 2010 .any way I am reading Journal of a Solitude by May Sarton. She was a particularly beautiful gift to me from my father.

If any of you write or art or deal with solitude or depression  in any way I would recommend her as boon companion. She seems fond of Jung and so my offerings here are her quotes from Jung :

” I have been pondering two passages from Jung. The first is a key to the dangers of sublimation : “One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious” The second is:

” Only the living presence of the eternal images can lend the human psyche a dignity that makes it morally possible for man to stand by his own soul, and be convinced that it is worthwhile to persevere with himself. Only then will he realize that the conflict is in him, that the discord and tribulation are his riches which should not be squandered by attacking others; and that if fate should exact a debt from him in the for of guilt, it is a debt to himself.” – from Journal of a solitude by May Sarton, W.W. Norton New York 1977, page110

so I got mine for .50 used paperback in keeping with my dads school of used book hunting techniques.

why not get your own?

imagine  a world where people decide that they are worth persevering with themselves and that “riches… should not be squandered by attacking others!

http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/845386.Journal_of_a_Solitude

845386

Women We Should Know – Elizabeth ” Brave Bessie” Coleman


 

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Born on January 26, 1892 in Atlanta, Texas, Bessie Coleman was one of 13 children to Susan and George Coleman, who both worked as sharcroppers.   http://www.biography.com/people/bessie-coleman-36928#awesm=~oF0BOHRrIMTtVR

 

 

 

 

Elizabeth “Bessie” Coleman (January 26, 1892 – April 30, 1926) was an American civil aviator. She was the first female pilot of African American descent[1] and the first person of African-American descent to hold an international pilot license http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bessie_Coleman

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jYYy-dT44

 

bessie-coleman

 

 

 

 

 

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