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My Sister, My Wound
While the lockdown has been going on, I’ve been leaning into my creativity. One resource which has been helping me with reading and writing is the Social Distancing Writing Retreat hosted by Amanda P Moore.
Each day, there are four parts to each prompt. First there’s a poem to read followed by an essay on craft. Bearing these two in mind, there’s a writing prompt followed by an outlet, a place to publish your creations recommended.
I’m behind in the prompts but I’ve been finding this retreat a rich oasis of inspiration for my writing.
Here is a piece, I’ve redrafted today after following the readings for Day 6.
My Sister, My Wound after Ross Gay
No matter the mauling.
No matter the removal of face awaits.
There is no coming back
from coming to you.
My body betrays me
offering myself just like that.
With arms furred with pollen
like bright things at your feet;
marigold, opal, purple kale.
Biting my tougue, smile open
singing my insides our like an angel,
for you, to you.
I place my head into your mouth
knowing I’ll lose my head,
just like the sky biting down
into my torn flesh.
Sharing Your Work – 003
“ When women speak truly they speak subversively – they can’t help it: if you’re underneath, if you’re kept down, you break out, you subvert. We are volcanoes. When we women offer our experiences as our truth, as human truth, all the maps change.” – Ursula Le Guin
Sharing Your Work – 002
“ I think deep down we know that our creativity is not just for us. The creative power flows through us and it’s not meant to stop there. We need to keep the faucets open and allow the gift of creativity to circulate, so that it can touch other people. So it can grow beyond our own limited reach. “ Anna Lovind, The Creative Doer
My Boundaries – 006
“ I will stand up for myself and voice my opinions with confidence.”
Sharing Your Work
“The joy you feel when doing your work is a gift from life to you. Sharing that work is how you give back.”Anna Lovind
The ‘ Shelter in Place’ Goddess Series
My Boundaries – 005
“ I will communicate openly and honestly, and when I need to assertively.”
Chuck, bartender
It was late fall and crisp.
Leafless trees were approaching fast.
But a still a few had tongues enough
to whisper; orange, yellow and red jazz
through the swinging door.
Inside the air was close and smoky.
Eyes closed, heads dropping into
their drinks, bodies swayed to the beat.
I blew into the bottom of glasses,
wiped and placed back onto shelves.
I caught her in the mirror, just her back
just as she was leaving the stage.
Her white gown flowing.
Wilted gardenia petals around the mike.
Living Wild Studios 