Purple Mystique

powerful female
this regal person posing
purple royalty

This incredibly beautiful image crossed my Facebook news feed (Thank you Jesica Nodarse!) and I just had to share it with you all. Of course, the first thing that struck me was the color. Anything purple, it being my favorite color, always attracts my attention right away. In looking deeper, when I compare the original image below to the efforts she made with her colors, shading and placement, I’m just in awe of it! There’s such a feeling of mystery but yet so much strength within her image. Would love to hear your thoughts on the image, and even what you think of her other work. I think it’s all beautiful.

Bartholomew Barker

Early Birds

How I hate those poets who rise at dawn
to write a couple hours before work—
Wallace Stevens especially, Emperor of Ice-Cream,
my ass! You’re not the only one with a day job.

And don’t get me started on Ted Kooser,
who should be staying up late in the flatlands
to watch the milky way flow instead of drinking dawn
from a bucket some early bird probably pooped in.

My muse sleeps in a bottle and does not awake
until neon lights buzz. She inspires the moon
and I do her bidding beneath flickering televisions,
whipping a ballpoint to get every last drop.

The only time you’ll see me in the stark morning light
is if I’ve had to walk home drunk and forgotten the way.

Holding On

As the soft skin of your leg
conceals the strength of your thigh,
I lean in close to hear your voice—
quiet as dandelion seeds in autumn
with words powerful as a storm.

Hand in hand, enjoying your perfume,
your mouth and eyes straighten,
no longer curved like the rest of you.
I don’t want to relax my grip
but know I can’t clutch onto my desire
without losing that which I hold most dear.

Yes Man

I was the teacher’s pet
not because of my smarts
but because of my charm,
smooth chocolate compliments
and precision tattling.

I knew which bully to befriend
for much-needed protection
and when to stab him in the back
then upgrade to a bigger model.

There will always be men
who think they’re great
and need little guys,
like me, to confirm
their awesomeness.

~~~

Bartholomew Barker is an organizer of Living Poetry, a collection of poets in the Triangle region of North Carolina. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food-inspired poetry was served in 2017. www.bartbarkerpoet.com

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Reblog – Furious She by Kritika

From the beginning of humanity, the expression of emotions has driven the poets in our world to write from their hearts. IMO, this piece captures the oppression of women well and the ultimate futility of it as we will always rise. ❤

Undressed Thoughts

Illustration by Kritika

the blue ink will spill
her hands untied will write
she will not let it go
until she empties herself from inside

@ Kritika

Stitching her mouth would not sew the thoughts inside the fissures, deliberately
created by this proud society in the form of her beloveds whom she once admired with respect.

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Reblog – Testimonials by Tebogo Precious Moholwa

I love the strength of this piece! I share this post with all my sisters who have weathered storms!!! You got this! 🙂

Journeying Through My Thoughts

Right at the edge of breaking

At the bending

She stood upright

They said;

She is the girl who refused to break

#Precious

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Womanhood

fuck what others want. be you.

Inspired by Reena’s Exploration Challenge #125

It is not my intention to shock anyone but I certainly mean every word said above. This video describes EXACTLY how frustrating womanhood feels at times,. Being a young, middle-aged or older woman trying to figure out how to navigate life in my body, in my career, in my relationships, and generally, everything has been daunting at times, to say the least! I happened to stumble upon it on Facebook recently, and well, seeing Reena’s challenge inspired me to share it and my feelings about womanhood. Thankfully, I’ve come to align with this notion that my body, personality, and my humanity actually belong to me. So, respectfully, fuck off and let me be who I want to be.

Fake, Not Dope

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Presenting the gaggle, yes you.

Oh, do keep your insincerity down.

You sit and throw compliments at each other.

Faux kisses languishing in the air.

So loud as to not be believed.

You support nothing but your own agendas.

Every group has a leader who runs them.

One kowtows in silence for rewards of pleasure.

Another wants to be liked to the detriment of others.

The other doesn’t want to go against the crowd.

What a group of insincere cowards.

You spout off privately “reality, being genuine, love.” then act like little plastic dolls.

You wouldn’t know what real was if it hit you in the face.

Oh yeah, it has, but you dismiss it.

Authenticity doesn’t really fit in your group, or?

Well, fuck you.

Real people don’t hang with fake bitches anyway.

 

*Originally published here 3/21/18