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Glo : Even As We
I'm in Your Gravity | Doom Ghosts | Spirit Lover | We Walk The Streets | Goddess Love Oranges | Lets GLO | Back to the Sea

I'M IN YOUR GRAVITY

If we were gods and goddesses,
But we are you are and so am I
and so is he and they 
We are boundless swirls of D.N.A.,
Waves of energy play.

We bubble like ancient telephones,
All on the same exchange.
We send faxes without machines
Speak without words,
And God is in your coffee cup 
Does she play dice she does, she does,
She plays and laughs at the tyranny
Of needs and musts.

If we were gods and goddess
We would flow like seas 


	

DOOM GHOSTS

I am a witch
I heal dogs
and help the grass to grow
I speak to birds
And particularly owls
gather herbs on the full moon
and frighten patriarchs 
I threaten those 
who wish to market the universe
So they burn the competition 
I have been burned nine million times
And I am still alive 

She is the great goddess
She is the great goddess
She made the world
the life force in trees
and the rhythm of tides
that follow her bleeding 

Once she was everywhere
men and women lived in her seasons
They loved where they would
With no priests robbing her blessings

What is she, mother goddess
She is trees, and seas
and rocks and fish
and horses foaling, hens laying
and the bliss of every leaf 


	

WE WALK THE STREETS 
- Gilli Smyth

We walked through the streets 
as if they were snakes, 
but their skins never fell, 
and beneath gasped 
the children of our antiquity, 
the memory of our power.

We walked through the streets, 
we walked through the streets, 
like snakes with old scales, 
glued to our nakedness 
and tongues flicked 
into the oily syrup of air. 
The fear of vulnerability, 
the vulnerability of fear 

Ee walked through the streets 
as if we had always done so, 
and cold winds of forked tongues 
licked screams upon our lobes, 
perhaps our own

The streets walked through us, 
and as we now gasped beneath 
water from our eyes 
washed our dead scales 
and the curled bone 
of a leather finger 
pointed to a moth, 
or perhaps the moon 
as the naked shadows 
of our indigina, 
our indigina, 
melted like alcohol 
into the wind 

The streets walked, 
the streets walked, 
and we rose off them like steam 
to curl onward, to forget.

And shells whispered spirals 
on the shores of our silence 
as the moons around our heart 
could be quiet no longer! 
They called, 
ullulated to their oceans, 
rivers, puddles, 
rains, clouds, blood, 
like a lobsters death cry, 
a planet cracking like an egg.

The sun cracked, 
the galaxy cracked, 
the universe scracked, 
curling our fingers of steam, 
with skins of leather, 
into embryos and the streets ran, 
and the streets ran! 
shimmered, ran, shimmered, 
coiled, shimmered, steamed, 
into scales that fell 
like crystal tears, 
to shatter upon the earth, 
and become the mist it once was 

Father lies, mother cries, streetwise 


	

BACK TO THE SEA 
- Gilli Smyth

I remember ancient magics
that moved huge stones 
and cured all illnesses.

I remember the boy 
who became a bird, 
the fish who walked out 
of the sea as a woman,
giants, mermaids, sorcerers 
and the waters of sight.

Back to the sea,
Back to the sea.


	
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