In a "Wild Bride" class (with the gifted priestesses Sirena Andrea and Mayra Stark) writing prompt:

Filling a cup in the full moonlight- what I most want to birth/ mother (and from the part of me that was banished at birth!)

This came out (poetic license in the incensed part):

Dear Crones and Marys, Isis, Kali, Kwan Yin, Tara, Teresa, Ruth, Eve, Lilith, and all my mothers, mentors and sisters,

Hear my plea.
Hear my answer, finally,
to the OCEAN asking me, “Oh, sweetheart what do YOU want??”

I want Real LOVE.

In all its glorious dimensions.
In my house and in the White House.

F*k. I am so tired of trying to be a good girl
for the patriarchal containers and complainers
and the faux kings in their Tantra classes and groovy glasses,
who do not see me.
Who do not really cherish and meet me,

Untamed and rising
out of my programming to be polite,
to be proud I don't start a fight

I want to scream all bloody hell from all the rooftops
and all the dark corners.

Let these cries become a watershed of revolutionary change.

I shall no longer re-arrange myself to be more pleasant and accommodate.

I will still sing of LOVE stronger than hate,
but the new anthem rising out of my soul and pelvic bowl
will be a roar of
no more
no more
no more.