ZEINA HASHEM BECK TRIPTYCH: VOICE Zeina Hashem Beck is a Lebanese poet. Her most recent collection, Louder than Hearts, won the 2016 May Sarton NH Poetry Prize. Her work has appeared in Poetry, Ploughshares, World Literature Today, and elsewhere. Her poem “Maqam” won Poetry Magazine’s 2017 Frederick Bock Prize. www.zeinahashembeck.com
Author: Mom Egg Review
REBECCA HART OLANDER FAWN From the age of fourteen, some weekends, I took the train from Gloucester, MA, where I lived with my mom, to North Station in Boston, on my way to my father’s house in Dorchester. The conductor called out Man-ches-tah, Man-ches-tah! Swam-scitt! and Beh-vah-lee Fahms! as we sped away from the rocky coastline toward the city. From there, I rode the Red Line in the direction of Ashmont, to Shawmut, my destination. One time, sitting on a molded blue plastic subway seat, overstuffed talisman of backpack held fast on my lap, I glanced at a…
LESLÉA NEWMAN #MeToo piano teacher sitting beside me on the bench sliding his hand beneath my behind; dentist reclining my chair all the way back and resting his tools on my chest; friend of my father’s pulling me onto his lap and promising to make me a star; co-worker of my father’s calling the house when he knew my parents were at a mutual friend’s wedding to tell me dirty jokes over the phone; mail carrier walking behind me calling, “I wish that swing was in my back yard;” man driving by in blue car yelling, “Nice tits;” man…
IDRISSA SIMMONDS DAWN PRAYER CALL on the line with my dying mother i choose words that land soft as fingers in the sweet of her scalp. sometime ago I became her patron saint of hope and faith a calm weft of voice she ascends. her voice thick with East New York then mine then hers again we call and respond our voices moving like smoke between open mouths. i was not holy before i have never been a light to anyone especially not my mother – pretty brown woman whose body contained mine, gave me my sheen, my breath…
JESSICA GOODFELLOW NIGHTSCAPE WITH RANDOM INTERSECTION Late at night a telephone booth becomes a cage, a trap— its overhead bulb a spotlight. Someone has been watching me— a pantless man. He body-slams the folding door. Dropping the phone, I whirl around, push back collapsing panels. A scramble, a scuffle, a struggle. Then, dead- lock—his weight pushing in equal exactly to my fear pushing out. The thin layer of glass between us shakes. The dangling phone behind is useless—no free hand. Late at night a telephone booth is a glass elevator in free fall to hell. I howl. The half-naked…
JENNIFER FRANKLIN PHILOMELA AT THE LOOM He thought when he took my tongue, he could keep me from telling but my fingers speak for me now. I sleep by day while the arrogant sun cuts the window as his knife cut me. Nightly, I cannot consider sleep. My fingers fly over thread, banishing the pain that slices my mouth—relentless blade. His face looms as I weave. In these brutal scenes, I discover something better than beauty. I never expected to survive so when I transformed agony into a tapestry shaming afternoon light, tulips and bedclothes opened to take me.…
Susan Copich Frustrations, Contradictions and Storm: The Domestic Bliss series Note by Ana Silva With shocking bravery, nuanced humor, and a plentitude of crafted detail, Susan Copich’s Domestic Bliss self-portraits tackle the breadth and depth of Woman, and “all who are in touch with their feminine” as Copich puts it. Each portrait drips with liquid color and engages at both the narrative and lyrical registers. Pass your eyes around the corners of each print to uncover a fuller story— the noose that counters the perfect bursts of blush on the smiling mother’s face in Happy Days — the lurking plugged-in hair dryer in Bath Time. Also, let your eye stay in the…
#MeToo a Vox folio Curated by Jennifer Martelli and Cindy Veach Featured Poets Jennifer Franklin Jessica Goodfellow Idrissa Simmonds Lesléa Newman Rebecca Hart Olander Zeina Hashem Beck Eileen Cleary Everyday, we are witnessing women speaking out, giving their trauma words. Ten years ago, Tarana Burke urged us to “tell your story, if you’re compelled to tell it.” The #MeToo movement was born out of her need to create a place of empathy for women who have been victims of sexual violence. This was the space safe enough for Burke’s own daughter to tell her story. But it’s an…
A Mother’s Love: Essays and Poems Exploring Grief and Loss a folio curated by JP Howard featuring Regina Jamison Breena Clarke Cheryl Boyce-Taylor Sonia Jaffe Robbins Amber Flame Lynne Connor I am writing this introductory essay to this folio exploring a mother’s love on the two year anniversary of my own mother’s passing. Two years into this great loss, I am still remembering, gathering, celebrating, mourning, and holding on to pieces of Mama. Some days she enters my poems and essays and when I turn the page, Mama is there guiding me. Other days I fear I will…
The ProCreate Project, the Museum of Motherhood and the Mom Egg Review are pleased to announce the 25th edition of this scholarly discourse intersects with the artistic to explore the wonder and the challenges of motherhood. Using words and art to connect new pathways between the academic, the para-academic, the digital, and the real, as well as the everyday: wherever you live, work, and play, the Art of Motherhood is made manifest. #JoinMAMA December, 2017 Art by Anna Hughes words by Elise Gregory Art by Anna Hughes The Riddle (2017) This stop-motion animation, made from collaged monoprints The work focusses on the loss of self-identity in early motherhood. What is left of a person’s personality once…