Priestess Poetry

WAKING MAGIC… by Lisa Citore There was a time when women were magic… when we made love with rocks and rivers  and cried in the arms of oak trees. When we knew the language of light, and could speak in spider, squirrel, snake and hummingbird. When the Elementals were our dearest friends  and we could call down the rain or

I received so many letters for the Love a Woman poem, I had to write its counterpart, but I needed to grow more first. After a good humbling and coming through the other side, I could bust women’s egos like I did the men’s in Love a Woman. If you want to change the world, love a man, really love

When a fairly spiritual male friend of mine who had finally found and was deepening into committed relationship with his soul mate confided in me he was thinking of being single again, and in the next breath expressed his latest idea for raising consciousness worldwide, I wrote this poem. If you want to change the world… love a woman-really love

I love men (I have a bullheaded one living inside of me), but sometimes your ignorance and arrogance makes me want to throw lightning bolts. Testosterone, Sweet cologne, Goddesses gift to her own. I can’t resist your musky mist, wanting more once I’ve been kissed. Testosterone, thorn in my throne, who taints my estrogen ozone with looting hands and hungry

Interestingly, I wrote this poem while on a Christian women’s retreat. We were staying at a nun’s sanctuary, which leaves me to think that nuns and witches are more alike than different. Every woman keeps a secret broom in her closet. Not the broom she sweeps the kitchen floor with, the one handed to her by her husband to keep

I envision a world where we can honor and appreciate each other’s beauty without it being violating or threatening to one another-where we feel more alive in the unabashed expression and witnessing of that beauty.First of all you tell her to her face, so she can see yours. Unlike the coward who yells anonymously, “Nice tits!” out the car window

Perhaps my actions can be traced to the memo that said flex time was being eliminated and all employees were required to be sitting at their desks by eight a.m. sharp or we would be issued a warning. (Three warnings was grounds for automatic termination.) Or maybe it was the equally dehumanizing memo that said paid maternity leave was being

Performed at the 1998 Slam Nationals to a standing ovation, quoted on CNN & mentioned in the Wall Street Journal I wrote this poem about the corporation I was working for. At the time I thought I was exaggerating, but later found out my imagination which came out of boredom had more truth in it than not. In fact, shortly

In honor of the White Tigress, the feminine Tantric archetype and lover of the Jade Dragon, I wrote this poem, the first in the Tao of Sex series. And how can you not write a poem about a sex position entitled Flying White Tiger? Her lips are wide open, watering, hungry. She crouches belly down on all fours, sliding her upper body beneath