for my sistren, a poem

we were magnificence woman warriors armed with words piercing souls healing our own babes in tow men in awe imperfect with our flaws spewing necessary vulnerabilities a revolution in our bosom nectar sipping goddesses shat stereotypes spake stories over rip whiskey and dangling cigars sisters in arms poets, we are.  

feminism, a poem

unprepared the unmitigated force of his emptiness leaves her speechless. ‘tell me what you think,’ a loaded question no one wants answered. especially, if this answer isn’t about me and how we are going to live happily ever after. he is after all here to save me from… molded, our boys become warriors. you specifically…

when revolution is your only option

the end may justify the means as long as there is something that justifies the end. there are no words only deep longing silences that cover us each in sorrow and regret in my mind images twist and twirl leaving me breathless of times that never were but still feel real in my hand i…