Creative | Posted by Georgia P on 08/29/2014

Progress

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 …

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Creative | Posted by Ariella C on 08/1/2014

A Daily Serving of Misogyny

Most do not realize that

they have swallowed you up

today along with their breakfast

and that you are their favorite cereal

 

Yours is a deceptive brand

claiming to have enough

servings of vitamins

while it is really only

heaps of sodium

 

Sometimes your sugar

thickens my tongue

so that when my father

says I am a killjoy and

 

my brother sneers and

calls me a lesbian for choosing

to learn amongst girls

and only girls

 

I say nothing

 

They say you are less in

stock nowadays but

as I amble down the supermarket

 

aisle I see enough of you

leering out at me

to last another twenty years

 

You are not as rare as they think

 

And even so, people have …

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Creative | Posted by Emily Z on 02/21/2014

Woman

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.

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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 …

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Creative | Posted by Riya S on 08/30/2013

The Universal Sisterhood of Puberty

Pain dripping down my legs.
Bumps growing from my chest.
Doubled up. Feel the heat.
Mum, I NEED something to eat!
Checking out the guys,
Just when did they turn out so nice?
Look at myself in mirror again-
I look good!
Call me hormonal. Call me weird.
I’m feeling sick and tired
Of the pain of my red
And the sore swellings on my chest.
Now I’m staring at the bathroom floor.
I don’t call it a sickness anymore.
It’s my invite to a worldwide party
Of girls celebrating Puberty.

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Creative | Posted by Tiffany C on 05/3/2013

Barbie

Let me ask you this:
What do we teach our daughters
When the bestselling doll on the market, Barbie,
Has a made-up face and mascara-ed eyes and lips as pink as grapefruit,
But not enough ambition or intelligence to calculate her net worth?
What do I tell my daughter
when we pass through Toys-R-Us
And she wants that artificial décolletage in a box,
This trickery, chicanery of Mattel
who fashioned this doll, this plastic piece of shit
With a serial number lingering on her lower back like a tramp stamp
Above slim thighs which gap and disproportionate legs,
Legs, I tell her, that would snap beneath
Barbie’s weight if she were real
That would make her fall at the slightest step,
Only for the purpose of mass-production and consumerism
which …

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Creative | Posted by Eden Halo on 04/26/2013

Midas and Medusa

Our suffering was human long before you
Tried to “humanise” it,
Give us the kiss of life,
I am not your wife, I am not your sister
I am not your fucking daughter, sorry to break
All this water
On the embers of you
Deigning, for once, to give a damn
What your friends do to us
By imagining we belong
To you — I will demonstrate
How little you know of possession
As I run
My keys along your car
Til your mouth unlocks, drops open
And I dive down your throat, walk around
In you, the cage
Of your ribs more spacious than
My own, two sizes too small,
Zero, counting down to take-off, space
For my heart all taken
With the frenzied tango
Of me watching you …

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Creative | Posted by Tori A on 02/22/2013

Reborn

The ability to move and be moved by another person, to love and be loved, sends chills down my spine.
To feel another’s emotions intertwined with my own.
The exquisite high of a touch, a smile, a moment, awakens my lungs so that they may breathe in the fresh surroundings you bear.
I once was deaf to the voices of reason.
I once was blind to the changes around me.
But now, I take it all in.
Like a newborn’s first glimpse of the world, you have made me anew.
Like my soul once sat partial, you have made me whole.
Flesh on flesh you consume me.
You take me as I am.
Let me be only grateful to hold you in my arms while I am allowed to.

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