Articles

Monsoon Season: A Memoir

In Phoenix, it seems as if you can see forever on the desert floor without mountains to block the view. The flat geography provides a...

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Women Who Inspire: Erin Matson, Writer, Feminist Activist and Co-Founder and Co-Director of Reproaction.org

Erin Matson is a writer and feminist activist extraordinaire whose work has appeared in the Washington Post and on CNN, MSNBC, Al-Jazeera...

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The Night Before Christmas 2017

It was the week before Christmas, when all through the house The kids were asleep, but the parents were out. They searched through the...

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How Do You Like Me Now?

We live in the dirty, digital age of Celebrity wannabe where everyone, including me, overshares everything. At the gym today, I was...

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What We Need

We are sun-baked in the sand, hand in gritty hand, when you ask me, “What’s your favorite season?” Expect me to say—Here. Now. No...

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Aleppo at Christmas 2016

The age of miracles pretending to be this wonderful illusion wanting to see our hearts depths and story lines wanting to leave the eyes and...

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The Hair There

The hair there keeps coming back, pushing through, endlessly, as if there is a message they have been trying to get to you, years now. But...

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Brave Enough

We couldn’t survive the hurt Our injured, tattered, fragmented souls had weathered too much and we couldn’t weather each other any...

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Why Did You Kill My Sister?

“To rise, first you must burn.” ― Hiba Fatima Ahmad Dear Mike, When you were alive, I never quite knew the day of your birthday. Kay...

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Would a Broken Arm Cast a Pall on My High School Reunion?

If you had told me I’d be going to my high school reunion with a cast on my arm, I wouldn’t have believed it. After all, I was still in...

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Queen Of My Paradise

Queen of my Paradise, The lands you keep run wild with berries That pop hot in the sun, stains spreading into wicked smiles Red, purple,...

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Breathe

Breathe. The simple act of pulling the world in and swallowing. When I was a kid, I used to hold my breath underwater for 74 seconds. I...

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My Saturday Morning Baseball Hat

I love my Saturday morning baseball hat, My anti-welcome mat, which I wear When I don’t want to put on makeup on my face Or do my hair up...

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“I Quit!”

The end of the month is crunch time for an accountant. Making sure all activity has been posted to the books; making sure all cash...

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I Won Second Prize in a Beauty Contest and Collected More Than $10

Since the day I could count, my brother and I battled dozens of times in family tournaments of Monopoly. Before each match, he would...

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Carpet Talk

Oh the heavy feet that endless tread my threadbare weave, heavy hearts balanced on heavy feet, heavy thoughts filling hollow heads with...

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Judy.

I named my uterus Judy a few years ago. It made sense at the time. Calling it “Judy” gave me the freedom to air my bodily grievances...

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LOST

How can the voices I don’t hear compete with the voices you do? For loving you has become difficult and the wanting of you now...

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Lamenting with Blue Jays

Blue sparkles in the twist of cold branches tangle vivid stories inside those black eyes darting around spotting me looking, casting glow...

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Losing Myself to Body Shaming

My body is mine, yet everyone is so judgmental about it. But the real judge is me. I’m surrounded by people who care so much about...

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Release Me.

Years spent attempting to destroy myself Never a break given Convinced to have done more Could have screamed Should have fought harder...

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BODY / IMAG(INE) – a poem in four parts

PART ONE/ BODY She dressed Hastily Alone Averting her eyes As loose flesh rolled Over her frame   And by squeezing And shimmering Her...

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Women Who Inspire: Jennifer Jordan, Founder of Aeroflow Breastpumps

Jennifer Jordan is the founder and the director of the Mom and Baby division (now Aeroflow Breastpumps) at Aeroflow Healthcare and through...

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Hmm, So Wistful

for the motel days. for the barbecues and the merry-go-rounds picking the best ponies, not enough to go around. so under the sheets, we are...

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Things to Tell My Son

A woman is more than Lush thighs and warm honey to lose yourself in a drive by. She is a long road trip, filled with aching joints and...

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Days Like This

Okay, picture this. It was years ago. I’m eighteen, skinny, it’s June, early on a Saturday morning, and it’s raining buckets. I’m...

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