Healing Across Time and Space
Nov06

Healing Across Time and Space

Dear Creative Woman, To begin to comprehend our need for each other, consider the medieval pair Hildegard von Bingen (a mystic cloistered from age eight) and Eleanor of Aquitaine (a queen imprisoned by her husband for sixteen years), who forged an epistolary relationship. Today, we are no longer forced to wait patiently for letters to cross seas, yet our connection is equally precious....

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At Least Prostitutes Bring Home Money by Sokunthary Svay
Oct09

At Least Prostitutes Bring Home Money by Sokunthary Svay

  “At Least Prostitutes Bring Home Money” by Sokunthary Svay     Why you come home late in the dark You wear the dress and stupid big boot no job   Where the money you want me save? At least prostitute bring home money   What you want for dinner—noodle again? Yeah you like your big noodle   Don’t worry about freckle American men like that Go to college get marry then work bring home money...

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There Was a Door by Leatha Kendrick
Oct05

There Was a Door by Leatha Kendrick

  “There Was a Door” by Leatha Kendrick   There was a door and her hand on its lever.  In too many clothes – her coat’s wide cape collar, her high button shoes, a bonnet heavy and huge whose beruffled lining frames a thin face.         Enough to smother a watcher.   For more than a century she’s stood, not going through. Was she leaving or coming home? Time has carried her cheekbones into our Susie. Susie running...

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And Rose Our Voices Like Waves
Oct05

And Rose Our Voices Like Waves

Dear Creative Woman, Today we respond to the call of our times and our community to release the confluence of women’s voices — both from our anthology and new work — into shared, published WAVES. Our New WAVES         “Dragging Virginia Woolf’s Body Out of the Ouse” WAVES digital cover art by Christy Sheffield Sanford, Artist in Residence, Global Day Camp, Oct. 24  ...

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She Let Herself Go by George Ella Lyon
Sep23

She Let Herself Go by George Ella Lyon

“She Let Herself Go” by George Ella Lyon   1. She let herself go    soft    fat   sexual    She let herself go to the library to college to extremes    She let herself go wild   and gray   and all the way  She let herself go deep    go alone    go sane     She let herself stay    She let herself abide by her own rules    She let herself out    She let herself in    Let herself in for it    She put down her mask    She...

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Hymnal, Linda Ravenswood
Sep23

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...

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Bracelets by G. Evelyn Lampart
Sep23

Bracelets by G. Evelyn Lampart

  Bracelets by G. Evelyn Lampart   Sophie is wearing bracelets – I can hear them jangling. I can’t take my eyes off her face to look at them because she’ll think she isn’t interesting. That would break her stream of confidential I am special speak. She is talking non-stop again. About herself. Herself as a woman who is jealous of younger women, the 25-year-olds, with privilege, and with trust funds. I understand. I tell her...

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we should have by Carrie Nassif
Sep23

we should have by Carrie Nassif

  we should have By Carrie Nassif   we, the sisterhood of barbed wire museums who among us isn’t a collection of prickly, of misused connections of twisting pointed links crafted by thumb and elbow-grease once wound-tight-over-driftwood wires long since uncoiled from their uprights those fence-mending callouses all smoothed away with time it was yellow polaroids ago water over rocks under bridges we should have lassoed...

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Open or Safe by Laura Grace
Sep23

Open or Safe by Laura Grace

  “Open or Safe” by Laura Grace     When she decided to go back, it opened again. The stitches popped in response to that final thought, that, I miss her more, moment. She went to the hospital the next day. She needed to be closed before she could make that phone call and she wanted to be sewn up before she began to pack herself back in. The doctor fingered the would-be scar. “This is a strange happening,” he...

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Without Turning by Sandy Gillespie
Sep23

Without Turning by Sandy Gillespie

  Without Turning by Sandy Gillespie   She feels him curve against her back.  She knows he is awake, his hand moves with purpose, traces hip, thigh.  Settles. She feels his beard on her neck; she wants to roll toward him, offer breasts to hungry eyes. The weight of her beak holds her. From behind, he cannot see feathers sprouted on her brow. He breathes greedy accusations. She opens her mouth but doesn’t turn to him,...

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