Featured Post: Against Our Will – Tamara Fricke

You climbed my body
like kudzu claiming
successive trees
slowly choking out
room for anything but
your own tepid
perpetuation. Pushing
further, deeper, wider
my leaves howled
for one final gasp of air
and you wonder
why a sapling shudders
when you whisper
her name.


Tamara Fricke is the 2010 co-winner of the Gertrude Claytor Award of the Academy of American Poets and is previously published by The Lyon Review, Meat for Tea, Attack Bear Press Poetry Vending Machine, Whisper and the Roar, We Will Not Be Silenced, and has been included in a number of compilations.  Her poetry chapbook Our Requiem was released in 2014.  She lives in Springfield, MA, with an ungrateful cat, where she writes grants professionally.

Featured Post: Backlash – Tamara Fricke

I’m a lesbian
because I can install
a garbage disposal
and don’t like
being called a cunt.

I am a whore
because I like
my body, sex, and
am totally comfortable
talking about it.

I am a second-class
woman because
I refuse to reproduce.

I am bossy and bitchy
and pushy and stuck-up
and a know-it-all for
being well educated,
articulate and successful.

I am a murderer
because I chose
what was best
for my body
and that child’s life.

And I deserve
every ounce of abuse
because I dared
step into a manly
manipulated world.


Tamara Fricke is the 2010 co-winner of the Gertrude Claytor Award of the Academy of American Poets and is previously published by The Lyon Review, Meat for Tea, Attack Bear Press Poetry Vending Machine, Whisper and the Roar, We Will Not Be Silenced, and has been included in a number of compilations.  Her poetry chapbook Our Requiem was released in 2014.  She lives in Springfield, MA, with an ungrateful cat, where she writes grants professionally.

Featured Post: Women Who Run With Wolves – Tamara Fricke

Maiden, Mother, Crone
seduce the night
and wrap us tightly
in your honeysuckle thighs
as we draft a new tomorrow
on one another’s skin

Mother, Crone, Maiden
suckle every hungry spirit
with mother-milked kindness
and spare not the rod lest
it spoil humanity as a whole

Crone, Maiden, Mother
let me scream every obscenity
until they imbed in stone
drafting tattoos on mountain faces
time can’t unforge.

Forgive this rage
and let me run again
freely, with my pack.


Tamara Fricke is the 2010 co-winner of the Gertrude Claytor Award of the Academy of American Poets and is previously published by The Lyon Review, Meat for Tea, Attack Bear Press Poetry Vending Machine, Whisper and the Roar, We Will Not Be Silenced, and has been included in a number of compilations.  Her poetry chapbook Our Requiem was released in 2014.  She lives in Springfield, MA, with an ungrateful cat, where she writes grants professionally.

Featured Post: Ain’t I a Woman? – Tamara Fricke

same skin and muscle
same strength and hunger
whole-souled and whetted wit
we are as constant as surging seas
more bountiful than fruited plains
filled with kinetic energy
and on the brink of eruption

Ain’t I a Woman?

having begged and cajoled
on bended knee, tongues lagging,
blurry-eyed, our pints
remain Sahara dry, and now
at the edge of starvation,
hallucinating from thirst
your flint and our tinder
set a stage for penitent fire

Ain’t I a Woman?

knowing a sister’s worth
lock-stepped together
our fire will rage so blistering
soot will render all ashen grey
and in final defiance,
refusing succor, we’ll whisper
at the grave, “ain’t you a woman?”


Tamara Fricke is the 2010 co-winner of the Gertrude Claytor Award of the Academy of American Poets and is previously published by The Lyon Review, Meat for Tea, Attack Bear Press Poetry Vending Machine, Whisper and the Roar, We Will Not Be Silenced, and has been included in a number of compilations.  Her poetry chapbook Our Requiem was released in 2014.  She lives in Springfield, MA, with an ungrateful cat, where she writes grants professionally.

Featured Post: The Beauty Myth – Tamara Fricke

Teen Vogue
argues Karl Marx
and I weep, carefully
blotting tears
with rice paper
so I won’t ruin
my foundation;

while a 16 year old
orders elitists
to panic, to action, to account
for climate decimation
and I smile,
but not too widely,
and slowly so lipstick won’t
smear on my teeth;

and when I realized
my age made me
societally obsolete
with the force
of a rip current
I quit shaving my legs
and burned a city
to the ground.


Tamara Fricke is the 2010 co-winner of the Gertrude Claytor Award of the Academy of American Poets and is previously published by The Lyon Review, Meat for Tea, Attack Bear Press Poetry Vending Machine, Whisper and the Roar, We Will Not Be Silenced, and has been included in a number of compilations.  Her poetry chapbook Our Requiem was released in 2014.  She lives in Springfield, MA, with an ungrateful cat, where she writes grants professionally.

Featured Post: The Bluest Eye – Tamara Fricke

I am never
what is needed
a hammer where
a shovel’s needed

as a thing
I am an obstacle
a broken tree branch
in the road obstacle

but I am not
a hugs and kisses human
a beloved,
singing praises human

a rag doll
with brown eyes
torn to pieces by
hard green eyes

desperate to consume
this transcendency
as a blue eyed
butterfly, I transcend


Tamara Fricke is the 2010 co-winner of the Gertrude Claytor Award of the Academy of American Poets and is previously published by The Lyon Review, Meat for Tea, Attack Bear Press Poetry Vending Machine, Whisper and the Roar, We Will Not Be Silenced, and has been included in a number of compilations.  Her poetry chapbook Our Requiem was released in 2014.  She lives in Springfield, MA, with an ungrateful cat, where she writes grants professionally.

Featured Post: The Awakening – Tamara Fricke

Velvet has a subtle way
of scratching neglected angles
thought hidden, laying bare
imperfections once declared
hallmarks of originality
leaving one scarred, creased, and scared
in the floodlights of public opinion.

Satins and silks are no better,
sliding as they do, snagging
on every hangnail feathered edge
running off to tell the neighbors
there’s a pimple on your ass
worth debating.

Now cotton, loves your hips
but do you ever wear it without
thinking of cotton-ginned machinations,
blood and heat commingling
making a mockery of 300 years
with it’s rosette patterns and
floral bouquets?

The truth is your skin is
salted perfection, texturized
to highlight every precious
imperfection and perfectly
encapsulating your singularity,
your contradiction of simultaneous
infinite and finite-ness that
no fabric should ever hide.


Tamara Fricke is the 2010 co-winner of the Gertrude Claytor Award of the Academy of American Poets and is previously published by The Lyon Review, Meat for Tea, Attack Bear Press Poetry Vending Machine, Whisper and the Roar, We Will Not Be Silenced, and has been included in a number of compilations.  Her poetry chapbook Our Requiem was released in 2014.  She lives in Springfield, MA, with an ungrateful cat, where she writes grants professionally.