Creative | Posted by Hilary W on 05/29/2015
Love For A Season
Columbia Pictures via http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51RGP0YGFSL.jpg
My prom dress was too big to fit into the car. I worked my hands around the silky tulle of the rhinestone-studded gown and gathered the fabric into my lap. But as the car picked up speed down the hill, the boy in the driver’s seat took hold of the manual handle, cranking down the window. “Here,” he said. “You can let go.” He motioned to my hand, which was tightly grasping my dress. I let my fingers release the now-wrinkled fabric and watched it billow freely toward the window. My open palm followed the free pieces of silk and my arm glided out of the window as we picked up speed in the cool May evening. I was on my way to prom with a …
Creative | Posted by Samantha P on 02/6/2015
Basic Human Rights
What are you women truly fighting for?
What rights don’t you women have?
Basic human rights.
My consent for you to approach me and get to know me
Is a basic human right
My body does not define me
My clothes do not describe me
And your words are certainly not inviting
We the people, for the people, by the people
Don’t they mean we the men, for the men, by the men
I would love to walk down the street
And not be whistled at like a dog
I would love to sleep with whomever I want and not be called a slut
You receive a pat on the back while I receive a text
What makes any of this okay?
You feel content in your …
Creative | Posted by Jules C on 01/30/2015
When I was a little girl my grandma told me that there were princes. Sitting in our house in the Sunset, the N rumbling by, the sky grey and the ocean roaring, she’d tell me about them as I sipped my soup and tore off bread to dip. She said the princes were scattered around, trapped in skyscrapers and under bowling alleys and hidden away in train stations. Some had green eyes, some had black hair, some had baby faces, some were short, some less so. But they were all waiting. They had nothing to do but sit around, doing pushups, combing their hair, shaving their beards till they were just roguish enough for a princess to save them. For a princess with an AK-47 and a leathery attitude to …
Creative | Posted by Augusta G on 01/7/2015
If you can’t handle me,
If my girl-power, middle-finger, bra-burning bothers you
Because I am only gaining momentum
I am charging,
Ignited by the tide of my moon
Surrounded by my sisters.
I am a bitch
And damn proud of it.
You label me,
For fear of my labia –
You try to turn down my volume,
Fix and fondle me.
But I don’t need to be handled,
I have two hands
And they work damn well between my thighs.
Creative | Posted by Kinder L on 12/26/2014
In class my professor stated that being comfortable
is a key factor to a society evolving.
At the time, I took her word for it. But
that night as I tried to fall asleep, I couldn’t help but
think about what she had said.
The more and more I thought about it,
the more and more I started to disagree.
It is with being too comfortable that my problems began
and I was lead astray.
Astray from the life I wanted to live.
Astray from the person I wanted to be.
I got too comfortable with the idea that I wasn’t good enough.
I got too comfortable with thinking that it is alright to
dismiss your intelligence to appear more attractive
in the eye of society.
I got too …
Creative | Posted by Georgia P on 08/29/2014
Shut up he barked
Sit down he wined
Raise your voice he howled
Raise your cup to me he giggled
Make pure and tender love to me he snapped
Pick me up in your arms and tell me how to change he snaked
Shut up he whispered, into my ear on this cold, cold night
Pull out the chairs when they sit down he commanded
Read my mind he yearned
When my mother comes cover your bruises and show me that smile he snickered
When my father comes cover your chest and cross your legs he murmured
Know me like no one has ever known me, care for me like no one has before we wished
to each other
Shut up, he pounded into me, his sweaty hands slurping my …
Creative | Posted by Emily Z on 02/21/2014
Ridges of her spine like fish
emerging from the water:
she stands, condensation dotting
the mirror. Swift shock,
change snapped from the fingers.
Past tense, present: glass,
arrows in knees, never: transparency
in spite of itself, choked
back, unnecessary. I wish, I wish.
Creative, Feminism | Posted by Riya S on 11/8/2013
A Feminist Wave of Fury
I’m not walking ‘before’ Anybody.
I’m not here to parade my body,
Or prance and flit about.
Cause under all the prettiness,
There beats an Amazon heart.
To wear what We want.
To do what We dream.
To be who We are.
I’m watching you with Feminist eyes ,
Waiting for a slip up.
Blood’s been lost for Black and White.
But for battle? Not a drop.
To love whom We want,
But only When We please.
We want to be free.
It’s one thing to be proud of being women but I believe that equality can only be achieved if we treat everyone according to their individual merits. I think that being denied opportunities or being treated as less because of What and not Who you are is a …