Humanity: Raw & Unfiltered
Four girls, heads together Wish to be seen seeing me. Their gaze sashays past mine, and in their hair Fork-tongued ribbons turn to snakes, Babbling in hisses, as their mistresses do, Dancing as though my faltering words Were music from a charmer’s flute. The girls look at me, Then Read more
Fifth Grade. 10 years old. I chose Harriet Tubman. My mom made my dress measured and cut to size. I was Harriet Tubman, but I was unlike her, a skinny shy kid, the tallest fifth-grader, slouching in my chair, a white girl trying to hide in the crowd. My dress Read more
Sara Dutilly studied creative writing at High Point University and today she stays at home with her three children, writing and wrangling and finding countless surprises along both paths. Her work has appeared in r.k.v.ry., Quarterly Journal, Mothers Always Write, and PopSugar. A few years ago her husband purchased her a website for Mother's Day and she's been writing her mothering stories at www.haikuthedayaway.com.
i. The Warring States I unified the warring states for you Old classics, Confucius teachings burnt Wisdom buried – scholar by scholar Insurgency cut – tongue by tongue One Emperor, one wall is all you see ii. The Red Little Book I swam across the Yangtze for you Old ideas, Read more
Amy Lee is a lawyer, emerging writer and poet based in Seattle. Her work was published in Thrive Global, HR.Com, The F-Word, Cicerone and FemAsia. She holds a BA/LLB from the University of Queensland and LLM from the Melbourne University. She has worked in-house for major corporations on LNG projects and now lives in Seattle where she volunteers as a career coach for Hopelink and at the Seattle Repertory Theatre Shop.
I discover kernels in poems. The shell breaks open to a singed blossom of hair. Before I spit the weirdness out, I savor a reeling storm in my nose and mouth. For a split second, I see a topiary. I awake to dreams; perhaps they are catchers to my middle-aged Read more
You said you wanted me when you turned to face the lamppost. The snowflakes caught your eyelashes on the last languid Christmas. Your fingertips braided my hair. Your chilled lips smoothed my legs. Your breath in hot clouds warmed my skin. Maybe I love you a little. I stand in line at Read more
I stoppedbelievinghopingsearchingdreamingpleading for one more time memories lingerbittersweet pain of thepastprayers offereddesire lastingwishing foranother true lovestill longing for one more time invocations answeredyou stepped into mylifeeuphoric,my heartthrobbed withpassion one more time my dream weavermy second chance lovermy last forever goodbye one more time Photo ©Julie Anderson All Rights Reserved Julie Read more
Julie Anderson is the Creator and Publisher of Feminine Collective. Julie was inspired to create this safe place for women to share their secrets, desires, triumphs and pain as the antithesis of what mainstream media offers women today. In her column Pursuit of Perfection, she explores the importance of rectifying the balance of inner and outer beauty through essays, poems and articles on self-esteem, shame, family, and self- acceptance.
Breath— The Sphinx got weary of always being the mysterious one out in the desert, so she slumped off to the nearest pub and drank herself silly in the middle of the afternoon which she knew her mother wouldn’t approve of but she was the fucking Sphinx and decided not Read more
Megan Coleman has been writing from the womb and is an emerging poet in Chattanooga, TN. Five of her poems appear in Elephant Journal (2017), and she is featured in Ordinary Madness Magazine (2017), Vocal Magazine (2017), finalist in the Fortnight Eyewear contest (2017), Visera (2012), and the winner in poetry in Chattanooga Writer's Guild contests in 2003 and 2004. She has given readings at Barking Legs and Mudpie Cafe in Chattanooga. She also has a B.A. in Women's Studies.
