The Sisters are Rising

We are not the daughters of the witches you burned

we are the witches you burned

the charred remains of flesh hangs off our ancient bones

for we did not die

We have been holding space in this fragmented state

so the sisters could dance

so the ones you now stand beside 

the ones you now hold aloft

the ones that are now the palatable face of sorcery can fly

we are the ones who made this happen

but you have forgotten us

the hags you would rather leave behind

we speak too much 

our banshee cry is too raw for you

you'd rather we wore red lipstick and heels

took to a stage somewhere made a performance piece about our lives

you'd rather we were on a plinth in ticker tape naked

so you could say thats her thats she isn’t she great- hot too

you don’t value the witch who sits in darkness of night

sows seeds under a full moon

lets her blood flow into the earth

births life from her tears

tells you what she sees in teacups and strains

no no how dare we soil the landscape of acceptability 

how dare we lay bare our selves in such an uncomfortable way

what would your mates say?

how could we all sit around sipping champagne discussing the latest concept

you fear the true witch may suddenly bloat up and fly away across a room

shame you

there she goes again

too much for me

no he says

i like my witchcraft in a nice bottle

preferably young bodied and full

with a side helping of popular thrown in

oh yes the sisters are rising

treading on the discarded bones of the crones

of the ancient ones that no one wants

the sisters are rising on  the blood and tears of the silent ones

who held the space for years

the sisters are rising 


Copyright A. Agha