Baby & Me – Kristiana Reed

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In baby’s small hands

she saw his

and as baby pulled her necklace

into an embrace

she trembled, remembered

the power he once had.

Still had, swimming

in baby’s blue eyes,

nothing like hers,

her bruises were purple,

yellow and green.

Green like baby’s vomit,

gurgling screams,

a chest full of blood

a heart full of hurt

a heart full of love.

Love left in no man’s land

and a bed for a trench,

once balled up,

finally curled up

stroking baby’s hair.

Hair like hers,

wispy and wind-kissed,

free to breathe

a future, called

‘Baby and Me’.

 

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Kristiana Reed juggles writing and teaching English; in both vocations she endeavours to remind people of their self worth and how dazzlingly beautiful the world can be.

You can read more of Kristiana’s writing at My Screaming Twenties

Stepping Off the Spiral Path- Christine Ray

No longer virginal maiden

lips like ripe peach

no longer fertile earth mother

babe at breast

I have fallen out of memory

fallen out of myth

Filled with the wisdom

of time

experience

I reject the title crone

I am decades from being wise woman

alone in the woods

Is there no place

on the spiral of life

in a society obsessed with youth

beauty

for midlife woman

come into her own

comfortable in her own skin

in her own sexuality

sharp of mind

no longer defined solely

by relationships to others?

My vibrancy undimmed

my ambition awakened

I refuse the mantle

of invisibility

only sanctioned option offered me

I choose instead my naked soul

blaze my own trail

in a world unprepared for smart

passionate

confident

hungry women

who do not fit in a rigid mold

who belong solely

to themselves

 

Image of Helen Mirren courtesy of Pinterest

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

 

But What About My Brain?

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Teacher of femininity,

unbashful was she;

saw Mother naked often enough, and

couldn’t help but admire

her

small breasts and

well-manicured

mons pubis.

 

She’d bought me a training brah

adorned with ah

pretty pink bow, and

my own

hedge trimmers

when I came of the age—

showed me how to shave my pits and

chicken legs.

 

Tweezers for the brows were

lesson next, then

brown mascara and

plum pigmented

Mary Kay to compliment

my steel blue

irises—

“It’s your eyes that will always get the guys.”

It’s a Boy – Kristiana Reed

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Their toothy smiles

exude youth;

their laughter is too loud

for this carriage

but it’s glee breathes

like an orchestra.

 

The beauty of youth

blossom cheeks

is met by their mother’s

smile and nightingale patience.

 

She is rapt;

 

with her own creation –

memory of skin

stretched like a picnic

blanket in Spring.

 

Their laughter is too loud

for this carriage,

a chorus of the voices

she is teaching

to sing along

to life’s sweet heartache.

 

She is rapt;

 

each boyish gesture

reweaving the tapestry

once folded beneath

her heart, threads

of silk, of fear, of hope

and unforgiving promise.

 

Most beautiful of all

is her poise –

shoulders pulled taut,

never bowing like Atlas

as she nurtures

and tackles boys

and their toys,

boys will be boys,

 

indeed, the weight

of the world.

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Kristiana Reed juggles writing and teaching English; in both vocations she endeavours to remind people of their self worth and how dazzlingly beautiful the world can be.

You can read more of Kristiana’s writing at My Screaming Twenties

 

Christmas Morning by Nadia Garofalo

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We sit in pregnant silence
The current distress collects
in my head, rains down my face
You say nothing
Again I’m that girl
in the black skirt
That drank too much
Didn’t work hard enough
Snuck out of your life
All without permission
The woman next to you
The stranger you raised
Despite all you did
I’m still living in my own skin
And I won’t speak first
I can’t afford to
So we sit here
Until we get to the airport
And for the first time
I look back from the security line
and you aren’t there.


Nadia is an artist/ musician living in Chicago, originally from western MA. Currently she works as a freelancer doing props for TV and film. When not working she is an active member of the Chicago music community as well as a founding member of the post-punk band Ganser. She is very excited to be a contributing member of Whisper and the Roar.

Christmas Morning by Nadia Garofalo

sufjan-stevensChristmas Morning by Nadia Garofalo

We sit in pregnant silence
The current distress collects
in my head, rains down my face
You say nothing
Again I’m that girl
in the black skirt
That drank too much
Didn’t work hard enough
Snuck out of your life
All without permission
The woman next to you
The stranger you raised
Despite all you did
I’m still living in my own skin
And I won’t speak first
I can’t afford to
So we sit here
Until we get to the airport
And for the first time
I look back from the security line
and you aren’t there.