THE SEA IS NOT A PEACEFUL PLACE, all spirits of all the long legged & lipsticked things before me move the current, and bring him crashing. i sing to men only until i am sure they are dead. i never told anyone to name my body anything. but they’ve called me dangerous since …
A Blues for Nina You’ve got to learn to leave the table When love’s no longer being served Nina Simone When love is no longer being served, I stay seated and finish off the scraps. I chew the gristle off all the bones then eat the bones, sop up the last of the …
Listen to “Sway” Listen to “Ode to My Pussy” I Am (after Monica Hand) I am A. what you say I am or what I answer to. some of us carry our prison with us wherever we go. B. cell memory. same family. different colors. C. water mixed with blood; call us mud babies; a …
Tumblr And today born; bare untroubled few seconds, unconventional, unembarrassed angst is best friend after. Society – only hidden body beautiful. Only man; pleasure his stop being uncovered body acceptable dignifying redemption (how?) For the sake of self. This . is. NOT. How you revolution. Instead become whore; …
Erika “Extra Bread” Brown. Born and raised in Cleveland, Ohio. She has been gracing stages stages since 2005. After taking a break on the rap scene in 2014 she is returning with a powerful message through her music. Finding her way back in the scene not just defined as a rapper but as an artist. Creative In many more aspects than just music. As a early childhood educator she fines it in her blood to teach children through music and art.
I Be Too Busy to Love Anything But a Drink I’m used both the bottom of a bottle I drank alone and body of someone I kinda loved. what makes a wine bottle a body. is what spills on the floor and onto my hands I lick it up clean, nurse …
Cooking Day My momma cleans our history in a bowl of water; calls them chitlins Mumu spread wide like legs, an emblem of her childhood, this trance that transports her back to fridges being the cool depths of lake wata, of pickin cotton that bites ya hands, I watch the blood Pool …
Does One Heal From Domestic Violence?
does one heal from domestic violence /
is it a trauma / much like losing the mother?
did your mother succumb to the abuse/ a blunt object / specifically : a thick glass bottle /
to the head / an early Tuesday morning / after an argument / when she finally had enough / broke
it off / said the relationship no longer served her / an affirmation she had practiced –
or was that you / also at the death / of an exhausting love /
each heavy clash / your lover blows / against your skull /
you scream /
smell your mother / being buried
Simone Savannah is the author of Like Kansas (Big Lucks). She is a 2017 finalist for the Rita Dove Award in Poetry. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming GlitterMob, The Fem, Powder Keg, The Continental Review, and The Pierian. She holds a Phd in Creative Writing from the University of Kansas. She is from Columbus, Ohio.
My inspirations are drawn from a place of worry. I reflect my troubles on a canvas as bright colors. I believe I’m changing the negative moods into positives perspectives with colors.
At a Feminist Craft Talk a tall white man sat in the chair in front of me and began scooting back, a just little scoot, enough so that his knees didn’t touch the seat in front of him, exploring. Then it grew larger, bolder. he began to colonize– his chair less than an inch …