This week we bring you the poetic voices of four out of five Divas of FEPC.
Julie Watkins~ Her poetry can be found at rockpool poetry.
No-one in our real lives gives a shit that we write,
that our raison d’etre is to drag definitions
from the depths of our guts
and needle scratch them into our skin.
I wonder if,
when the words that ink us,
that silkscreenprint us,
have dried and cracked
and not an inch of skin remains,
they will gather around our naked corpses
and read the story of our lives.
Old African Elephant
life span of
proud old bull
© Marion Friedenthal
Metaphor written, with love and respect, about Dr Nelson Mandela – affectionately known as Madiba – when the media camped outside Milpark Hospital after he was admitted during the week of 28 January 2011. Viva Madiba Viva. *continues at the bottom of the post
Christi S Moon~ Her poetry can be found at Letters to the Moon
Enslave the world with cryptic words, etched on a stony wall,
brutalizing, bible thumping, biased, sacred fakers;
depraving man’s equality, wield power over all.
Church and State; obliterating, greedy, conflict-makers.
Pretending we’re not bedding down, slick drilling, oily whores.
Toting guns, we can’t outrun, arms bought without affording;
keep sending troops, of youth, to die – reprising holy wars.
Shameful Bay parading bearded, amber jumpsuit, hoarding,
a righteous inquisition that our sanity ignores;
patronize convention’s rule, with wicked water boarding.
In white starched tailored-shirts, kneel down in Sunday morning pews,
clutching validation theories, banking on confession;
guilt paying for forgiveness; Fox’s Headline evening news,
void of true integrity, perpetuate oppression.
- Sun on face; I sit
on my doorstepWatching river me pass by.
Going to ballet class; pink satin shoe
tied with long ribbons, around, under, through.
Moment to moment, no movement between,
pirouettes, dancing, advancing her dream.
River pass by me watching
When wild teen wilderness laid claim her name,
life became this; a chaotic domain.
Down and out daemons, found home and held sway,
talons found purchase and reason to stay
Pass me by watching river
Next mer-memory waterheld phantom
found rhythm stirring, lighting a lantern.
Saved by the music, hopelessness fading.
Creative expression came cascading,
Me watching pass by river
Yesterday’s ghost, swam back safely to source,
never avoided her obstacle course.
Less moorings, more lessons, riding the flow
as river and I get on with the show.
http://www.a-gallery.de/docs/mythology.htmHyena giggle: The giggle is a high pitch, staccato sound that is not communicating a good time. In fact, it is commonly produced by distressed, or submissive, animals in situations where they are both excited and conflicted between approaching and leaving the situation. For example, giggles are made by submissive individuals at a kill waiting their turn while being chased away by higher ranking animals.http://www.acoustics.org/press/155th/theunissen.htm