The women of my grandmother’s line are cloaked in polished oak. Their nipples bare, silk of budding blooms. I know my father by the cacti growing atop my lungs. The areolas pullulating from my desert chest sprout needles that prick…
Browsing: MER VOX
My Nephew’s teeth are straight like swans in a row better than ducks pretty target for foe I worry about his beauty is his grace what they seek to destroy? does he have Emmett’s eyes? Trayvon’s smile? No child’s nightmare…
My daughter has blossomed into a beautiful butterfly, She has learned to stop and smell the roses while avoiding bee stings, but She cannot avoid the pain that life brings. She still cries for little lost things, like Math books,…
“It’s Time”… Perhaps the phrase You whispered in my Father’s ear When you were Ready to conceive me. “It’s Time” Your water breaks, I was born. “It’s Time” You let my hand go And I walked my first steps. “It’s…
To Mom She slouches in the chair whose alarm will screech when she gets up. “What is this?” she shouts indignant that this has happened- the chair, the bad food, the hospital bed, eighty-nine years of living and now her…
No matter when you’re born you will be whipped in the sand storm of seismic colonies colliding by their dividing and parching the earth to bury life denying any evidence of our presence And there is nothing to do but…
Poems Curated by J.P. Howard We are women writers, many of us are members of Women Writers in Bloom Poetry Salon(WWBPS) or long-time supporters of the Salon. We are diverse and multi-generational; many of us are women of…
How many years since mystery disappearance –who knows? in the basement his things his hurt glance with twinkle of defiance –coming off in charge “As far as we knew you were dead!” kilter of his belongings stored in the laundry…
My body would not give you up. An iris slow to open at the center of me, softened only by hours, in the rush of waters narrowed again and in the end, on the third day, had to be held…
There is a tilt to the world a lilt to the world when I think of her the imagined daughter I might just have one day a delight ringed by a thousand sadnesses of losses I imagine for it is…