Don’t Say My Name

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Don’t say my name,
see what else falls away,
which words drop off
the tongue in light
of this new consideration?
 
I think of the moon,
and the image changes,
the word alone
conjuring faraway
tapestries of night,
 
also forbidding, in their
very distance from
here. Why not place
faith, instead, in their
colourful inevitability,
 
should we do the work,
here and now, of filling
ourselves with the kind
of light that fills the
contours of tomorrow?
 
Why not remove the
name, the idea, as the
serpent sheds her skin,
the very sheath that
gave her a body, her
 
movement, knowing there
is more to come, knowing
that the movement itself,
which is life and love,
will take us there?
 
– TT
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The Time for Wild

vag1

it’s time.
it’s time to find
the wildness
we bear within
our deep down
jewels
our seeds
of freedom
 
the wild
that protects
our long held
desires
that need not
be suppressed
that will not
be oppressed
 
the wild
borne of wisdom
that knows where
we have strayed
have lost the
secret pathways
from heart
to world
 
to be
the wild ones
we’ve always been,
rooted and rising
fiery in knowing
our ancient longings
and the dawn of
our tomorrows are One – TS

The Great Birth of Love

vag

The goddess

of the mountains

The one who makes

life from life, engenders

the cycle of birth and death

who looks upon us all with her

great gaze of transcendent wisdom

enfolding all beings in her arms of love

inviting us all to breathe her gentle fragrance

reminding us that there are no boundaries in heart. – TS

 

 

I am a Woman. {Poetry}

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Tammy T. Stone

 

I am a woman

Here and now, born to Earth at a long journey’s end

 

A woman

Who clung to the womb for days, more than a little afraid, I think, of what Life would bring

Sprouting from toddlerhood a knobby-kneed wisp of a thing with stringy blonde hair and curious eyes for feasting on everything at once

 

A woman

Who believed that to cry and need were fragility’s realm and held back enough tears to fill three oceans of sad

 

I am a woman

Who bounded after dad at the hardware store and helped him build and fix things (he could fix everything!)

Who tossed her dolls out of bed, thought Barbies were mysterious objects, and didn’t get the world of playing house

 

A woman

Who started seeing herself as a being apart, first from her own body, and then from her slow emergence into womanhood

Who stood back and watched other girls claim their femininity with prowess

 

I am a woman

So comfortable as the observing one, though I have also tried to tend to others with a delicate touch I sometimes forget to reserve for myself

 

A woman

In the arms of the world, at home in the sun and sands of other’s places, wistful when I see the she-gatherings in my midst, the laughter and joining of hearts and bones and golden space between

And I have vowed to join them when I can, because I know I’ve been there before and will be there again

 

I am a woman

Despite the wind energies flowing through me, threatening to carry me away from the trees, earth and waters I inherited as my birthright

 

A woman

Who has found the moon, and knows I was formed by her secrets

How I am woven into the silken, cosmic dance, how I am not just the soft breeze but the sensuous forms moving through them,

How I arise from the ancestral sisterhood that holds a wondrous space for our becoming

 

I am a woman

As all women with me and before me, in my ecstatic leap from the binaries that have constrained us ever since humankind recognized what power engenders

 

I am a woman

Dreaming of oneness from where the many stories of what I am supposed to be make a foundation from which I rise

So I rise, embracing the curves, the gentle slope of my back that has supported me so many miles; let my hair down, bare my chest to the sky, throw my arms back to let me be filled; tune into the gentle and sometimes ferocious rhythms of Nature’s invocations

 

A woman

Whose scream unleashes our shared history madly into space, reaching crescendo, knowing the wild pain of relentless suffering, torture, belittlement, mutilation, of our voices severed through Time

I lift my head from its broken place and awaken to songs near and far that traverse divides to a shared vision of hope and action

 

I am a goddess

I have scarcely allowed myself to whisper the word, but here it is and I must listen

Divine originated, Earth-enchanted, I will free myself from the bottommost cells to the outermost extensions of this body I have been given

The legacy it lives

I will tread the ground barefoot and untamed; I will hold hands with the intuitions bestowed on me when it all began, and

I will talk with the magic ones

Listen to the world’s giant heartbeat

I will love with every possible grace.

 

** This poem was originally published on Rebelle Society.

Goddess Moon

Tammy T. Stone

Tammy T. Stone

 

Goddess Moon

Without work, without rest,
I linger years from home.
A flash warning:
and it is not the weather
and it is not an omen.
Maybe, it is, a little,
both have been
stormy and enveloping.
The humidity plays with
my bare leaking veins,
the sun washes everything
except the stickiest thought,
a memory-picture hurled against
rain and screeching wind,
which it meets bowing,
with a violence bordering
on holy consecration.
I have gotten here, from there.
I go to the store named after a bird,
for coffee and a quiet conversation
that the heavy air will carry
for a long time to come.
There is so much poetry in a life.
Why don’t we all write about it,
And sing poem songs?
Arms dangle over the picnic bench,
back aches from letting love in.
I need to take me back to the river,
where the other half is waiting.
I will find myself there,
forget about everything
for awhile, and half-swim,
half float to the white
tower under the moon that once
witnessed my life transitions.
More than change
More than movement,
my heart longs to fly.
I will borrow scissors
so I can cut all the fear away.
It will take all night,
Crafting freedom from dreams
and I’m scared of
the moon as a witness.
I want her to capture
me as a goddess,
and make me a flowing robe
from her light.

*This poem was also published in elephant journal, here.