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| The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 2/13/2009 1:17:56 AM | ahh blitz so good to catch this before I left tonight..
I love your depth always! Missed you while you were away!
this fit so well with my mood right now..
EDIT: it just came to me I was calling for a poet to capture fragments for me and there you were suddenly *smile.. | |
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| The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 2/15/2009 1:06:41 PM | I thought you might like this....what a talent!
1994
i was leaving my fifty-eighth year
when a thumb of ice
stamped itself hard near my heart
you have your own story
you know about the fears the tears
the scar of disbelief
you know that the saddest lies
are the ones we tell ourselves
you know how dangerous it is
to be born with breasts
you know how dangerous it is
to wear dark skin
i was leaving my fifty-eighth year
when i woke into the winter
of a cold and mortal body
thin icicles hanging off
the one mad nipple weeping
have we not been good children
did we not inherit the earth
but you must know all about this
from your own shivering life
by Lucille Clifton | |
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| The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 2/26/2009 11:45:34 AM | Welcome, alyosha, brizo has great taste doesnt she?
I am here, this mindless inter net dating scheme
blanketing in visual advertising in warmth and
narcissistic decoration
My profile pieces how together I am
never slinging feces
My mass transmissions drape
the illusion of being alone
Tangible as imagined whispers
I volunteer to drown
in all this self recognition
A woman in a wheel chair
with dreams of flight | |
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| The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 2/26/2009 6:30:18 PM | You own the wind
Traversing along ,eyes dusty from the weight of responsbilities
Borrowing the sorrowed oaks will to bend
Pushing against the creaking bridges
Seeing in between the shadows and the crickets
Night illuminates the glimmer in your smile
Painting the stars with a vison of amber disaray
The fog dances you in becoming the softness
For your Soul to swim
Touching
Retreating
Spongy moss pads your feet
Going to apparition
You roam through the asylum
Tapping out a redemption song
Raking the walls
You own the wind
Humming random bars while roaming their halls
Drinking the oversplash of infinities water falls
Breast stroking holy springs
You rest against A weathered rock
Secretly caressing immortal saints
Questioning all that in the end proposes no answer
Tooth picked cherub feathers
Offer a soft place for you to lay your thoughts
While you whisper into the tormented hearts of chained dogs
Wailing for a taste of sun dipped Mondays
The backdrop and physiography
Sway at your announcement
You own the wind | |
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| The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 2/28/2009 6:38:24 PM | I like the title of the thread
with memories of now and then
they perturb deep within and release
the strumming of an instrument
awakens within, a pleasure,
like this whose awakening
our cat keeps climbing onto my lap, it is black,
with yellow eyes
and black around the iris
in the next moment the wild rhubarb erupts from
the side of an empty place facing south
and then the hills, we are in song
together with those that have returned
in this is our brief return and communion | |
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| The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 3/1/2009 9:34:30 PM | | We are all victims you know. The main reason is that only people who say that they have survived, can also say that they were once victims. Victims of what? Victims of oppression, of ridicule, of harassment unending, of ignorance, no? I think of Marg Atw0od | |
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| The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 3/4/2009 11:53:19 PM | on message 1401 "Five Winds" by BonfireGodess
Five Winds
Whisper my name and weave your voice
into a net
you will wrap around me
As long as you give me room to breathe
I won't struggle
Gaze at me with those celestial eyes full of joy
and pain and wisdom
mesmerize me
Then set me free and
I will share my vision
Touch my skin and trace the runes of your desire
into my flesh
with longing and love
Bind me to you but loosely, and
I will never leave your side
Lick the salt from my skin and let me taste your tears
against my lips
intoxicate me
When my head clears
I will hunger for you
Bathe me in the scent of your skin and the sweet silk
of your hair
drown me in your heat
Let me surface and
I will know you in the dark.
this poem is absolutely fantastic... it's romantic, sexy, dark, but also tender.... I like your style
the last stanza is filled with such longing... "I will know you in the dark." is powerful as an ending line.... we all have darkness in our lives; to know someones dark parts is truly intimate...
thanks for this great poem
Tenz | |
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| The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes.
Posted: 3/5/2009 1:23:17 AM | A lot of women think about the unity of many, nurture many and dream of the togetherness. For this i have penned a small lovers verse:
" Let slumber over take you;
and let us sup together,
from nectars of our dreams".
It is about togetherness and unity...and so is healing | |
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Thanx hbd its always a pleasure when you come to visit
