Category Archives: poem

Birth, the Production Line

by Alisa Blanchard

Right now, the rights to my body are being sold
And I tumble like scraps into the trash can
Knowing my remaining worth is misplaced
Into the void of methane growth
Amassed by the systems
Pathologies and labels adorn my body
And stories of the correct way to be submissive
As assaultive reminders accumulate
The fact I cannot be trusted with my own body
Apparently to question absolute authority
I must ransack and pillage my temple
Or completely sever ties to judicial reflection
Sterile images and threads
Weave around my body like braids
Captivating me in their hold
I am hard, clean and easy to read
Like numbers on a chart
Or curves on a monitor
Printed ink on paper
Leave no room for the mural on the wall,
The shelves of picture books and journals,
iPod full of songs,
That write complete story of me
And forever I remain a name spoken incorrectly
By eyes peering down
As I am strapped to the barricade of
Machine, tests, drugs, and games
Until I fully surrender my whole
To this wild experiment
Without voice
And kept warm in a blanket of shame.

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Filed under birth, Guest Blogger, motherhood, poem, poetry, Reproductive Health, women's stories

Moon Time

By LuAnn Morris

Magickal moon time
I welcome your
Power of transcendence
As I take my worthy place
In the rhythms of
Your universe

My third eye opens wide
As I receive your
Gifts of divine insight
And bathe in your
Sacred crimson life force
Of inspiration

© 2011 LuAnn Morris All Rights Reserved

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Filed under Guest Blogger, moon, moontime, poem, women's stories

Why Doesn’t She Leave?

by Kerissa Kuis

Millions of women get battered every year,

Thousands left to die crying their final tear.

These men draw on our weaknesses and try to destroy our strengths,

Leaving us hopeless and broken with absolutely no defense.

First they are sweet and supportive,

How quickly it changes to intimidation and ignoring.

Friends and family think your stupid shouting “why do you stay”?!!

Fear keeps you there because of the consequences of walking away.

We need less judgment and more support.

We have no place to go, not even the court.

The government wants to blame us and publicly shame us.

Instead they should protect and proclaim us.

We are women sacred and pure, the world’s greatest cure.

We are DAMN WORTH fighting for!

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Filed under Guest Blogger, poem, poetry

Tidal Call

 By Bethany Webster

Drops of blood into water

She watches the slow dark lines

Billow and squiggle as they fall.

Thin lines expand outward

In a slow, verticle drop

Revealing striations and curves in the clear space.

Gravity pulls down the ancient thread back towards

The earth’s molten core

Like a nostalgic memory it wants to relive

An intensified longing for reunion

The moon’s call is so strong that it lifts the water

From the earth, pulling waves toward it in space.

The waves respond, temporarily resisting gravity’s beckoning

And reach into the air to the silver orb.

The tension between earth and moon moves the oceans in a silent harmonious chord.

The oceans and women’s bodies know the same tidal call

Know the same tension that lifts and pulls

That suspends and plummets.

A timeless mystery that is present in all places when

Something stirs inside a silent egg.

© 2012 Bethany Webster

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Filed under Bethany Webster, poem

The Red Line

By Bethany Webster

In my blood there is poetry

In my blood are ancient stories

You are there, too, my sister

The red line all the way back to the beginning

A red thread I hold onto for days every month

A red path that appears beneath my feet

A red echo I hear through my inner yearning

My punctuated flow is the steady tempo of a drumbeat

That life plays through me

The drumbeat that is played in the bodies of women

Across the planet

The drumbeat of all of us bleeding is the heartbeat of the earth

We are Gaia’s heart in perfect timing with the tides

That keep the earth turning

Woman, we must rise up

Removing the veil of shame

We are ancient

We who trace the red line

We who hold the red thread

We are She in whom courses the river of humanity
As sacred as the highest temple

The holiest of chalices

The spiraling path of birth and death

The womb is a cradle of both

We are a gate between worlds

© 2012 Bethany Webster


Filed under Bethany Webster, blood, menstruation, moontime, poem, red tent

Video of the month clip

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Filed under "things we don't talk about", Isadora Gabrielle Leidenfrost, poem, red tent experience, red tent film, red tent movie, Video of the Month Clip

“An Invitation”

by Laura Gail

Come sister. Let us remove heart’s armoring and sit for a moment. No more sideways cutting glares of “back off bitch, the man is mine,” or careful calculation of one another’s weight and wages. You are not the blade, hungry to cut me for my man, my job, or home. And my un-lying skin and slender thighs make you neither ugly nor worthless. Let us cease the mindless chant of fat, stupid, ugly, which we try to silence by shining it outward like a lighthouse beam onto women around us. Let us smash the noisy lens, pick up the pieces, hold them to the sun, letting light split apart in jagged edges and shatter what kills you. Know that in women our cure lies within the poison. Healers and witches hid in church convents covering wild wisdom under nuns’ wimples. This is how we have survived through burning and binding. So come, sister. Sit with me awhile in this tent of red. Let us place that which we slice ourselves upon here on the table that we may find a cure.

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Filed under "things we don't talk about", poem, poetry, red tent, red tent experience, red tent film, red tent movie, red tent temple, story