To the Lighthouse by Kim Hamilton
“To the Lighthouse” by Kim Hamilton I saw her lighthouse once, off St. Ives’ shore, a whitewash slip to sunrays sideways glint, a dozen canvases like sails raised on sand— Sunday painters working with the wind. But we ate pilchers from a rolled back tin, salty oils running through our hands like the turn of light, the flash that never will be caught, and never quite repeats. ____________________ Share...
Her Poem, the Oak Tree by Tammi Truax
“Her Poem, the Oak Tree” by Tammi Truax I have carried this poem for centuries. In the end I shall bury it under an oak tree still in the prime of life, assuming life shall attend that symbolic celebration, and that I remember to bring a trowel. Incarnation I The many oak trees in my childhood yard were my playmates. I had no grandfathers, but those big daddies stood sentinel over me daily. I played in their...
What Woolf Dares Us to Write by Lauren Rusk
“What Woolf Dares Us to Write” by Lauren Rusk The Inspiration of Orlando(1) When in her diary Virginia Woolf describes herself as “writing against the current,”(2) she refers to the force of expectations, those of writers and critics—many of them her friends—who belong to the masculine literary establishment. Woolf braved this current because she wanted her work to be valued and widely read. But then if so,...
Celebrate for Anais Nin by Nancy Shiffrin
“Celebrate for Anais Nin” by Nancy Shiffrin in the hills I learn the design the lizard outside my door has different markings each year the same tissue flame terrorizes brush strips ravines cleanses the small animal population I mourn quail and rabbits I’ve fed fire part of the plan the wild cells baffling your armor aspects of the scheme stain them adjust the lens see how they multiply jewels blossoming in...
Anna’s Hut at Komarovo by Trina Gaynon
“Anna’s Hut at Komarovo” by Trina Gaynon Snow melting on the roof and damp from Pike Lake bring chunks of plaster down on our heads, a small matter with Vivaldi on the phonograph and the room filled with cigarette smoke and poets who drop their new work on the table before me. Memorization no longer necessary, reciting is out of style. When I’m alone, pine trees drift into the room, driven by winds of the...
Quotations [and Responses] by Sandy Gillespie
“Quotations [and Responses]” by Sandy Gillespie Helene Cixous [and me] May 11, 1988, Irvine, California I only know what my direct experience...
Knock by Dawn Banghart
“Knock” by Dawn Banghart ____________________ Share your response to this work, in any form, here Dawn Banghart Artist Statement: Dawn works as a health physicist at Stanford University who prefers to view theworld upside down and sideways using words, photography, sports and love as aglue and safety net.
Living With Ghosts by Ellen McLaughlin
“Living With Ghosts” by Ellen McLaughlin It might seem odd that I would begin a speech about writing by talking about how I can’t seem to write, but I have been asked to talk about something I have a certain amount of expertise in and, well… Anyway, what I decided to do, since I was having so much difficulty just writing this speech, was to examine that difficulty. The first problem I encountered was that I...
Counting and What’s Counted On by Robyn Hunt
“Counting and What’s Counted On,” by Robyn Hunt, Waves Anthology: A Confluence of Women’s Voices “Nothing thicker than a knife’s blade separates happiness from melancholy.” (Virginia Woolf, Orlando) I know for sure: 1 I am married. 2 I own a home. 3 I write poetry – creating metaphor where others claim they cannot. 4 I have a daughter; she lives elsewhere now. 5 My grandmothers, both...
Hymnal, Linda Ravenswood
Hymnal by Linda Ravenswood And there she was — on Broadway between 49th and 50th — and you know what that means, even if you don’t know the city you can still feel it — because New York is...
I have not yet written a single page by daylight.
Harriet Jacobs
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Ritual Oct 25, 2024
