Creative | Posted by Bryan N on 02/3/2012

Beauty Chase

society told her she was ugly and she bought into the lie
she dissected every bit of herself for judgmental inspection
and tried to feel beautiful all in vain
comparing herself to photoshopped figures on a magazine page
I saw the sadness in her eyes
as she flipped through the shit they use sexualized bodies to advertise
subliminal brainwash since birth that writes on the mind
I want her to feel beautiful in the body she was born with
feel happy in her skin
never satisfied with the body she is in
compliments never do shit so where do I begin
she points at bodies she says are perfect
not knowing that she is too
sadness blooms as she starts to slip
downward spiral spin
cuts down on meals to …

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Creative | Posted by Julie Z on 12/30/2011

Winner of FemFlash 2011: Male Privilege

I recently had the honor of co-judging a Feminist Flash Poetry and Fiction contest (called FemFlash) for the website MookyChick. The winner of the contest was recently announced and I’m proud to cross-post the winning poem: “Male Privilege” by C. Askew. Read the other finalists here.

MALE PRIVILEGE
by C. Askew

Give me the shovel.
Give me the tattoo gun’s kiss on my skin.
Give me the hard day’s work.
Give me the graveyard shift.
Give me the white van.
Give me lager and the night.
Give me the warship and the race car.
Give me the walk home alone.
Give me the chainsaw.
Give me the streetlit alleyway.
Give me the roadmap’s cryptic veins.
Give me the fearless midnight park.
Give me the swagger.
Give me …

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Creative | Posted by Nicole T on 07/8/2011

The Girl Doesn’t Like to Compromise

the girl doesn’t like to compromise.

she likes to sip mauy tais while staring at guys and watching movies waddle across the television screen. the girl likes to tell the truth but is more comfortable with lies.

she kissed one of her boyfriends in secret because of his blue eyes, her girlfriend in secret because of her second pair of lips, and man that she carnally desired behind closed doors because of the extension between his hips, while

still touching finger tips with her girlfriend. Sometimes she wished that they were all just friends. The guys and the girl… and the other guys that are not mentioned. She wishes that she could sit in an apartment alone, while her girl and those guys pendulum closely by, and she can experience …

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Creative | Posted by Talia on 07/1/2011

He Promised Her A Rose Garden

It was 1976.

Peak of the women’s lib movement.

New York, New York.

Peak of the peak.

She was going for a PhD in psych.

She could, thanks to Betty Friedan.

“After you finish your PhD,” he told her,

“We’ll move to Long Island.

Have three or four kids.

Buy a house.

With a white picket fence,

And a rose garden.”

She was nineteen.

She fell for it.

A week after the wedding

He got fired.

It wasn’t such a surprise.

Between the mental illness

Never showing up

And long sick leaves

It was just a matter of time.

“I won’t get a job immediately,” he told her.

You can type anywhere.

I have to do something important.

I have to have a career.

I’m the man of …

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Creative | Posted by Tesneem A on 06/3/2011

My Anthem

I won’t follow your conventions; I’ll lead my own way,

And I will refuse to listen to those that say nay,

I’ll speak my mind and do whatever I like,

Whether you think I am wrong or right,

For who are you to judge me or the things I do,

When you have barely spoken to me for a second or two?

I’ll welcome your friendship with open arms,

Yes I’m kind and cool, don’t be alarmed!

But the day you treat me like dirt on the floor,

You’ll sling your hook, and there’s the door!

I am a person of value and high esteem,

No matter how anyone else tries to make me seem.

Bash me and bruise me if you dare,

I’ll still trust my convictions sans any …

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Feminism | Posted by Annie T on 03/12/2011

Saturday Vids: “This Is For You”

These three young men were National Youth Poetry Slam finalists. Their willingness to stand up for women is inspiring.

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Creative | Posted by Emily B on 11/24/2010

Excerpt from a Fairytale

Girls should have exoskeletons, he told her.

Their ribs could be can openers.
My parents never touched each other enough, she said.

He traced her stomach like a coloring book, stopping

And starting to a thousand imaginary traffic lights.

“Happiness is a cliché,” he told her.

“I want to feel in black and white,” she said.

She wanted her heart to print receipts.
Their menus rest on the table like slain birds.

She garnished her soul like it was a thing to be consumed.

Every human being is waiting, she said,

At the bus stop of someone else’s

soul. wanting to be taken to Paradise.
So stop waiting, he said.

He imagined her soul bobbing away, like a balloon.

She wanted to kill him and press him into the

dictionary …

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Creative | Posted by Emily B on 11/19/2010

Faster Tonight

Girls always believe in

things told in whispers. And the

circuits connecting tangential fields of

stars and fingertips holed

in alphabets slip across rained in minds in a circumcision

of pleasure.
I’ve invented you, carved you out of traffic lights

to become beautiful–what kills me is the way birds always

fly south, down, and the way their beaks preclude

the possibility of kissing.

I’ve invented the colors underneath your clothes and

the things you could say under street lamps, erased a thousand illuminated mosquitos

But this isn’t a drawing class and the symmetry of sidewalks

is sketched to be beautiful only to insects.

Let’s say the stars are in your eyes, because

beauty is always imagined, and the lights are too

dim by the mattress anyway. Let’s say the moon …

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