Tag Archives: feminine



To be silenced
It’s inner violence 
Being forced to withhold
A story to be told
A crushing of the inner 
A bleeding under skin and 
A heart growing dim 
She’s becoming a shadow 
A piece or a part
Not a whole 
Never whole 
Deep within the soul 
She’s Scared to make known 
What she’s been shown 
Her cover is blown 
When she takes the lid off 
How she was Forced to eat from the trough 
A Choke and cough 
From these scraps of love 
if it can be called that ? 
It was rather more like bits 
Next “hits”
And their leftovers 
Can She Do overs ?
And hangovers 
These all meant to stifle 
Take out the rifle 
To Fire a shot 
At her voice 
That’s now here 
Loud and clear.



There’s this term 



To be stripped 


And Sifted

See, we’ve been tripped up 

By the things they’ve conjured up  

Held as truth 

This ban on youth 

Conspiring ruse

To quiet the muse 

I have my own way of thinking 

Heard not just seen 

Through verbs, not in memes 

Shot down when I spoke up

So I learned to choke what 

Drove us 


Me and my sister(s)

Learning to unlearn 

All the silence 



And to Unchoke

The hope

That woke

Me up to my dream 


My writing process is this : 

I have a conversation with someone, think way too long and hard about it, find the teachable moment or lesson , and write about it . 
I have had three Or four such conversations today and I just keep thinking on the words, “I want to be fluent in friendship”. 

Each woman is so very different. Different triggers, hurts, pasts, current situations, divorced, single, younger, older. 

So, I guess, the bottom line for me is that in all of my relationships , I want to be fluent in being a friend that can be trusted and counted on. 

 This encompasses all of the different walks of women I encounter daily, the ones I have chosen to walk alongside and the ones that have chosen to walk alongside me. The ones that let me down, the ones that don’t. The ones that help me grow, the ones I have cultivated and poured into. The ones that I call friends.

Fluent in friendship 

Friend to the end-ship 


The written words 

Between hearts and minds 

Words written on pages or not 

Thought out 

No doubt 

That these women are worth having 

In my life

By my side 

Sink or rise 

Part of a tribe 

Of sorts 

Hear us roar 

Collectively Shutting the door 

On the things that bind us 

Wind us 



That we have each other’s back

No smack


Or balkin’


toward healing 


Layer after layer 

Til we get to the core

Of who we are 


But so much more 




No more body Shaming 2017

Read this today out of an updated rendition of “Our bodies, Ourselves”.

Made me want to give up the idea of playing a role. Playing a part.

I don’t mean dressing up for fun. I mean actually finding identity in how successful one is in this subtle, wide spread competition. 

I am denouncing any role I have played in the past. I am resigning. I will really strive this year to forget this body shaming business. This idea that the makeup companies and teeth whitening marketers and fashion designers want me to believe. This forced participation.

I am tired of hearing women complain. I’m tired of hearing myself complain. I’m tired of talking to a cardboard cutout. 

I can’t relate to it in this stage of my life. 

Cheers to no body shaming, no measuring up literally in 2017.


Wasn’t only a dream

More like a scheme

To see

IF I would break

I remember your hands

How they meant to do evil

An upheaval 

Of me

One of your own

As you sat on the throne

Of authority

Keeping me

From experiencing free

I remember learning young that love wasn’t real

Not something you feel

Just words


Free of meaning

Had to fight 

To scratch the surface

Of true purpose

Remember saying we were worthless?

Guess you won for a time

Waved my white flag in surrender



At least a thousand times over

Let their hands

Their words

Their bodies do evil

Personally engaged in my own upheaval 

It’s amazing

How the games changed

After years of absence

Now a passive


Of this abusive


You’re panicked

Because I remember

An ember

A small flame

Inside my members

That renders 

My self worthy

Not a flurry

But a fury of fight


Plus sight


Because I remember

And won’t let it happen tonight 

Waiting on one (or another)

One is waiting 

Not here for the taking 

But the asking 

The why me’s and the what ifs 

The who’s  who and the making sense

Of all of it 

Or none of it 


She doesn’t have an answer to any

So she still waits 

For just one 

Or another 

Or still another 

That has the answers 

To the why me’s and the what ifs

To the who’s who and the making sense 

Of all of it, really