Writer. Feminist. Historian. Person.
When the moon beckons
Let yourself rise in the light
Uninhibited
Uninhibited
Let yourself rise in the light
When the moon beckons
When the moon beckons
Let yourself rise in the light
Emancipated
Not sure if this is any kind of actual poetic form or just three separate haiku strung together but I like it (them) and it (they) captures my feelings about the lovely photo that Susi provided at I Write Her.
taste my bleeding heart
its sweetness drowned in fury
battered by the fight
In the words of the fabulous Dixie Chicks I’m Not Ready to Make Nice so (try as I might) not even the word prompts of sweet/heart could quell my rage. But thanks for trying Ronovan Writes.
truly, madly, deeply … a song
truly, madly, deeply … a movie (with Alan Rickman!)
truly, madly, deeply … a partial list of adverbs to be avoided if you want to be a “real” writer (according to conventional “wisdom”)
truly, madly, deeply … a partial list of adverbs that inadequately qualify and/or modify how truly, madly, and deeply angry I am this week
truly, madly, deeply … #youknowme
truly, madly, deeply … a haiku
a song sung fiercely
truly madly deeply felt
demands to be heard
truly, madly, deeply … WE WON’T GO BACK
Many things inspired these random ramblings and specific outrages including Linda’s SoCS challenge to start my post with an adverb.
Not sure this is what she had in mind … but stream of conscience it is.
Image from breakingthroughtheglass.com/2018/02/02/feminism-types/
the steps rise steeper
as her tomorrows decline
yet still she persists
I saw Helene’s What Do You See Challenge directly after reading the news of yet another infuriating decision to exert control over women. I am struggling to retain hope for a future where (as a woman) I am considered to be a person not merely a vessel to be used then tossed aside. So this is as hopeful as I can get this morning.
And to all those who insist on sticking their business in my uterus, I say …
Its big eyes just stared unblinking for a minute. “What do you call yourself?” the Fawn said at last.
Its tone surprised me. Such a soft sweet voice it had! Oozed like honey. Regret briefly crossed my mind. I pushed it back. “Doesn’t matter.” I replied. “I’m just following orders.”
This 50 word piece of Flash Fiction was inspired by the 50 word Thursday Challenge. Hosted this week by Tales from the mind of Kristian
Here’s the picture
And here are the words:
`What do you call yourself?’ the Fawn said at last. Such a soft sweet voice it had! – Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll
Tina Stewart Brakebill 