(Poem) Herstory Rhyme of Feminine Wilds by Joan Powell


published in Women-Church: An Australian Journal of Feminist Studies in Religion, issue #4 Autumn 1989

Ideas for this Herstory Rhyme came from WEBSTER’S FIRST NEW INTERGALACTIC WICKEDARY OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE conjured by Mary Daly in cahoots with Jane Caputi.


I announce Daly news

I share it with Pride

from the Lunatic Fringe

which spreads far & wide.


cauldronI’m a brewster who brews

in my cauldron at night

and make magic potions

to take away fright.


I wriggle and roar

when I leap on my broom

and wantonly fly

in my starry night room.



I’m a queer crafty Witch

a Wise One who sees

the wasters who harm

the bats and the trees.


I take up my labrys

and chop through all lies

and lustily laugh

while I flash my Wild Eyes.


feathers and maskI’m a dangerous Nix,

a Vixen, a Bear

I do daring deeds

with snakes in my hair.


I study unlearning

I heal and inspire

I’m a sinister dragon

I breathe words of Fire.


I’m a Scold who scalds users

with a Hot boiling Stare.

It is the Hour of Thirteen

coming through Everywhere.


Medusa and Ariadne

I’m a Monster, a Nag,

an Ogre outrageous,

as Weird as a Wild Cat

I break open cages.


IMG_0013I’m Moon-Wise & Shrewd

a Seer,a Sooth-sayer,

sensing deceptions

I am a truth-sayer.


I frisk and I frolic

I boundary dance

with finny and furry

as they splash and they prance.


_MG_0126And sometimes I meet

with Muses and Sprites;

we nourish ourselves

at our Sacred Sites.


We make music that zings

far out to the skies;

the Spelling Bees hum

as harmonies rise.


Our words are like birds

in flight or at restIMG_0031

we wake up our sisters

with songs they love best.


These songs are angelic,

they draw and they soar –

they are Clues in the Maze;

they Spin from our Core.


We have a large hammer

for cracking the rules

IMG_0038that damage our lives

and our Terrible Tools.


The Tools that we treasure

are our Wits and our Rage

they keep us Revolting

to a Venerable Age.


We are Spinners of Webs

and love to cavort;

we go anticlock-wise

with a horse-laughing snort.


Our cloaks are our courage –

a rainbow protectionIMG_0061

they conjure Old Hags

with love and affection.


Our ancestral mothers

are Prudes of Deep Passion

unwinding the binding

in hair-raising fashion.


Now it’s time for a picnic

a snakey parade.IMG_0107

Let’s hop, skip and slither

and get the food made.


We will go to the beachfront

with animal friends.

They are very good Guides

on spirals and bends.


They tumble and scamper,

they crawl and they run.

They come from all over,CatEye

they are ready for fun.


The wild horses thunder,

they bring some wild cows –

there are crabs and a turtle

echidnas and sows.



The dolphins and whales

call out as they dive.

Come to Deep water –

you’ll know you’re alive.


The jackass is laughing,

brolgas dance up the beach.

Crackpots and Crones know

what these teachers teach.


Kookaburra & Water Maiden

We belong to the land,

Her songlines and dreams

We sing up the country,

the forests and streams.


Here lives the Goddess

of Wisdom and Love

Well of Divine Grace

the Queen of Above.


We remember our Dead

now in Her strong embrace,_MG_0159

We, the Living, are part

of a Powerful Race.



Woman most Sensuous

the One who gives Birth

the Bread of our Lives

and Blood of our Earth.


Read Meet Mago Contributor Joan Powell.

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