Ramblings_Dec2000.pdf

Title: Ramblings_Dec2000.pdf
extracted text: Volume2

December 2000

In
Ramblings is a publication designed by queer women for queer women as a
venue to display the creative talents which exist within our community.

A literary publicationfar

queer women and their many admirers

Welcome from the Editor
Welcome
to you by
the editor
abundant

to the 2nd edition of 'R,nn.ifinos.
This publication is brought
queer women and will feature writing, poetry and art. As
of this publication, I started this magazine because of the
talent in our community that deserves recognition.

While I encourage coming out, being visible, and feeling proud to be
queer women, I also respect that many of the readers and contributors are not out of the closet. '1(Jim6/ings
is safe space, with the option
of sharing your talents and still remain anonymous should you
chose.

Keepthe
submissions
comingl!I

We're here,
we're queer,

Contributions of any type of are welcome. Submit to:
E-MAIL::
creative_ramblings@hotmail.com.

we're creative!.

SNAIL MAIL::

Sandy

RAMBLINGS
P.O. BOX 13016

MINNEAPOLIS, MN 55414

E-mail is
preferred
(if possible)

•••••••••••••••••••••• ••••••••••••••••••••••
Insight

curious boy. And I remember the rain,

of sorts, an ability. I can deeply under-

by Sandy

never ending and my life since the day

stand people, because I am like the des-

I was eight when my family

we moved was flooded with the energy

ert, calm and watchful.

moved to Seattle, but I have vivid memo-

of the rain quenching the thirst of the

ries of the desert city in which I lived as

desert. I believe that it was this move

a young boy. I, to this day, I have an

from the dryness of the desert to the

overwhelmingly nostalgic feeling about

wetness of the city, from the yellow to

the desert. The times I have gone to the

the gray that made me who I am.

desert in my adulthood I have felt its

believe the rain saturated me in a way I

crowded city. It was just an image, but

calling, understood the beauty that I'm

cannot explain, only I know its true.

she looked at me and I saw it, the desert.

not sure everyone appreciates. I don't

It's as if there was some shift in me,

usually share these feelings with strang-

some reaction between the place I

ers.

should have been and the place in

It's not really something that I

could talk to another man about, and

I met my wife one day as we
passed on the street and her smell was so
like the salty smell of the sand dunes

I

that I stopped her, and although she
seemed afraid for an instance, I know
she felt our connection. I saw the desert
in her eyes, even though we were in a

On our first date she claimed to have
never been to the desert, but I was happy

which I existed.

I've always been too afraid to share this

So, you already think that I

with my wife for fear she would not un-

am not quite sane, but you're wrong. I

derstand.

anticipated your confusion and am pre-

Oh, the desert, the city. I found

pared to lead you through the logical

myself, a small child in a large city,

explanation of my unbelievable decla-

overwhelmingly large, as it seemed to a

ration. I have you see, a power, a gift

with the secret knowledge that she had,
at least in her thoughts.
So what I'm getting at is that I
can see into people's minds.

I don't

mean I can read their minds, I mean I
can see their thoughts and sometimes, if
they are calm, I feel the emotion behind
their ideas. I can only see into the minds
Continued en page2

Continuedfrom page I

of those who allow me to look
into their eyes. This usually eliminates
most men, who as you can imagine,
would not take kindly to my gazing. I
avoid men's minds, for they are sometimes frightening, sometimes too stimulating, like a rainy city day.
I have seen the deepest recesses
of the human mind, I have seen such
pain and hatred and I have seen the most
beautiful things.
I have seen love.
You do not believe me, but its
true. If I could look into your eyes I
would tell you what lies in your mind, I
could understand you completely. I accept the good with the bad, you see, and
so you would not have to hide your
thoughts from me.
My wife. When we were first
married, she was humming a tune while
washing the dishes and as I walked past
her she glanced at me and smiled. I saw
in her eyes the image of her braiding the
hair of a young girl. The next week we
found out we were expecting a child.
We named our daughter after my wife, a
beautiful name.

I

Ramblings, page 2

Perhaps women have that sort
of power, to feel the future, perhaps

ries can fade, or if it because you can

shape it with their images. I can see

only see God by feeling him, and that at

only the present in peoples minds, per-

ten I was innocent enough to accept his

haps women can see what I can, but

image, but that now I cannot recall with

more than that, maybe they don't see it

a cluttered, aging mind.
So now you think I am some

but rather feel it.
I've seen God.

religious wacko, but I assure you I am

I saw Him in my grandfa-

not. I have been to church only the re-

ther's mind, and mind you my grand-

quired times, like weddings and funerals

father was not a religious man. They

and never since my wife died. And to

spoke, him and God that is, and I

tell you the truth I don't know if I be-

could not tell if my grandfather was

lieve in God, although I have seen Him

imagining it, or if, as he lay dying, if

clear as day.

I

But what I really think is that

cannot say for sure, I was only ten, and

he, my grandfather that is, really did

only barely aware of my ability. Al-

speak with God, simply because he be-

though I know I saw God clearly, I

lieved so strongly that he did.

cannot remember now, sixty-five years

whether it actually occurred is not of im-

later, what he looked like.

portance.

perhaps God really spoke to him.

I don't

know if it is because childhood memo-

I 'd

So

found my grandfather

slumped over in the garage, and sat
down quietly and saw his thoughts. My
mother found me sitting next to him and
commented years later that she thought
it so odd that I was sitting next to my
grandfather, smiling calmly next to his
Continuedon page 3

IRamblings, page 3

Continued from page 3

body.

He was

still breathing when I found him, but his
soul was already on the way out and that
is why I didn't run to my mother for

tell you this. I know you think I'm off
my rocker, but let me tell you that I am
wise enough to not argue with that, but
I tell you this, I speak only of what I
know in my heart to be true.

help. I knew that I should leave him to
finish his conversation. She thought I
was too young to understand death, but I
understood it all.
So you are wondering how it is
that I was able to see his thoughts if he
wasn't alive to allow me access through
his eyes. Well, I have pondered that myself and have settled on the conclusion

I wrote this story because several
years ago I used to walk past an old,
dirty bum on my way to school. One
day I smiled at him and he told me I
had pretty eyes. I thanked him and
noticed he had the most beautifully
clear blue eyes. He asked me if I had
time to hear a story, but because I was
genuinely running late, I apologized
and went to school. I never saw him
again and have since regretted not listening to what he had to say. This
what I believe he would have told me
had I stopped to listen.

that once we die, we have no need for
the physical eye, that is, we see thorough
everything because we become everything. You understand.
I am not senile, although I
sometimes forget things. I have told no
one of my ability except for you an
maybe you won't believe me anyhow.
And I've though that perhaps everyone
has this ability but doesn't talk about it.
I've never asked for fear that I might be

>I. It was that kind of morning
>
>It was that kind of morning:
>the boganvilliea played and
>the newspaper sang,
>but the dance, oh the dance
>was all mine
>
>II. Before and After
>
>Dogged, clogged, bogged, flogged,
>
>sifted, lifted, gifted .

the only one, or worse, only one of

By J.T ...
many.
You must think I'm a crazy old
man because I live here on the street and

Reason to Dream
by Natasha

She gives me a reason to dream
those innocent blue eyes looking at me
stopping my heart from being free
she gives me a reason to dream
when the darkness comes and clouds my eyes
It's images of her that make the sun within rise
we talked the whole night through
she had me drowning in the blue
and then she told me
"a tiny part of me, is in love with you"
those words as rare as a liar who speaks the truth
held me fully and captured my youth
she gives me a reason to dream
and some sort of dignity
a little hidden self-esteem
that she's bringing out of me
more than a reason to dream
but an opportunity to really believe
I love to hear her laugh
and to kiss away her tears
I want to be the one
to shelter her from her confusion and her fears
but i don't think that's me
no matter how I want it to be
I just haven't the ability
to set those deep blue's free
last night our breathing compared to our hearts beating
and we couldn't resist to kiss so we did
and shattered our savored innocence
but that kiss
neither had the will to
us breathless in heavens bliss
a reason to dream
and see beyond the hurtful truth of reality
where my heart was deceived
and she chose not to be with me
and let go of the possibility
that comes seldomly
and I wonder
was she
is she really in love with me?
what did those sacred words actually mean
I'm forced to believe
it wasn't spoken truth
that captured my youth
but words to make me smile it seems ...
but she gives me a reason to dream

Rlrn ngt~81Dblinus.
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Dear Mom and Dad,

by Alicia Amberg

I went to a bi-women's discussion group (sort of like group
therapy, but more like a discussion group with a personal bent)
yesterday at this place near my house. It is a place that has all
sorts of support group meetings and socials for people with
many different sexual orientations.

pretty quiet.
Woman #8: Is probably in her mid 30's to mid 40's. She identifies herself as polyamorous and didn't specify if she is sexually
attracted to men or women, maybe both since she came to the
"bi" group. She has two girls, one is 12 and the other is 19. So, I
guess she is a little older than I just said. She seemed to think
that being polyamorous would solve many of our problems. I
don't agree, but it was an interesting argument. She is Jewish.

S'

I just wanted to describe to you the situations of the women
who were in this group last night because I, myself, was blown
away by the variety of issues/experiences these women pre- sented with. It may help you understand what "bi-sexuality" can
~- potentially label. Mind you, most ofus- if not all- don't like la~ bels and feel that being clearly heterosexual or clearly homosexlg, ual are the extremes between which bi-sexuality covers a broad
Ci:>
,.. spectrum of identities. Here are the women's situations: ...
~

f

S'
3

!:!:

Woman # 1: Is 28 and is currently going through a divorce
~ with her husband of 4 years. They have been together for a total
=6.5 years. She has identified herself as "bi" since she was 16.
;- of
In deciding to get divorced, she made a pact with herself that she
would not commit to one person right away and that she would
il' seek to please herself, emotionally and practically, rather than
g.
= always pleasing the other person, as she often finds herself do-:§
ing. She is currently dating a 35 year old man and considers her~
:1 self open to dating women too.
:::,

J
!:!:
Si

'.It

Woman #2: She seems to be in her early to mid 40's. She has
identified herself as a lesbian for as long as she can remember.
She feels that the label as "bi" better describes her current experience because she has been seeing a man for about 6 months.
.-4
This is the first man she has ever been serious with. She clearly
~
00 stated that she found 'being a lesbian' much, much easier. She
[ has met men who feel uncomfortable continuing to date a
woman when she tells him she is "bi." She also finds herself us~ ing gender neutral terms when talking about her boyfriend for

I
z

f

~

continued below

Woman #9: Is in her 40's, most likely. She is currently married to a man and has been for 23 years. 2 years ago she came
out to herself as "Lesbian." She is currently trying to figure out if
staying married while having a non-monogamous relationship
with him is going to work. She talks about being involved in a
group of married lesbians. Her husband, she says, is a needy man
and is willing to try a non-monogamous relationship but she is
not so sure it is going to work. She isn't heart broken with the
idea that they might get divorced.
Woman #10: Is in he early to late 20's. She recently moved
here and stated that she is looking for a monogamous relationship.
Woman #11: Is in her 30's, probably. She facilitated the
group discussion. She has been in a relationship with a man and
has been for quite some time. Recently she started to get involved with a woman as well. That woman is also seeing a man.
Sometimes the four of them go out for dinner and hang out socially (I don't think sexually- you know like orgies).
Woman # 12 feels like a walking stereotype, perpetuating the
stereotype of a "bi" person who is seeing a man and a woman at
the same time. She is really surprised that nothing has gone bad
yet. Everything is fine according to the 4 people, but she feels
guilty and jokes that one day a lightening bolt will strike her
down. She is Jewish.

◄
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Continued from above

fear of being rejected by her lesbian friends/community.
Woman #3: Is in her mid to late 20's. She is in a very serious
relationship with a man. I believe she said that they have been
together for at least a year or two. She feels troubled because
she is deeply in love with this man, however, something is missing. To put it bluntly, after 45 minutes of her boyfriend performing oral sex on her she still couldn't cum. She is deeply troubled
and in therapy. I am assuming she is wanting a monogamous relationship.
Woman #4: Is probably in her early 40's. She has identified as
"bi" forever, she says, and used to help co-facilitate the group
discussions. She is currently seeing a guy who also identifies as
"bi." He is also an FTM (Female to Male) Transsexual. She met
him by putting an add in a paper for an FTM. She describes her
relationship as complex with many layers of interesting experiences that they have both brought to the relationship.
Woman #5: Seemed to be in her early 30's. She didn't talk
about any of her past or current relationships. She kept talking
about her anger and confusion at being shunned by her 'friends'
and family. She feels guilty that she didn't feel comfortable wearing a "bi and proud" sticker at the Dyke March during Pride
Week. She wishes she wasn't so caught up in what others think
of her.
Woman #6: Is in her late 20's, probably. She is currently seeing a woman and, unlike Woman #5, she did wear the "bi and
proud" sticker while holding hands with her girlfriend at the
march. She is currently dealing with the issue of coming out at
work. She doesn't feel like she has to come out at work, but
when her girlfriend picks her up from work, her co-workers
whisper and wonder and talk behind her back.
Woman #7: Is in her early to mid 20's. She was the one who
raised the question of coming out at the work place. She didn't
talk about any of her relationships (past or current). She was

Those are the woman who attended the group. I did not describe myself, nor a few other women who didn't say anything
that stuck in my memory. The group currently meets every-other
Wednesday. I may continue to go because I did learn a lot and
feel a great amount of support, but there is also an Ultimate Frisbee game in the city during that time.
I hope you found this to be informative. I am sure it has
raised some questions and perhaps some more concerns. Please
voice those thoughts either via email or phone.
I haven't spoken to either of you for a while. I hope you are
okay. I love you two very, very much. It took me 3 years to accept my own "bisexuality," so please be patient with yourself. I
am almost finished with the first of the two books I have told
you that I will send to you. I think you will find them helpful.
Mom, what is your office address so I can send it to you guys
there? I also have some good news (about my job). Hopefully
we will talk soon.
Much love,
Alicia

This was an actual letter that Alicia sent to her parents.

Editors Note: I would like to reiterate that this publication is
for QUEER WOMEN I wish to include all queer women:, lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgendered, questioning, whatever.
There is too much discrimination out there to be divided within
our own ranb. Gay or straight, lets not forget sexuality comes
in more flavors that heterosexual and homosexual. ** Sandy

I
s·

IRamblings, page 7 I
~JnlflLfiLITT1Jn

2
2

choices

by Bertao.
◊

lying at the center of a tangled web
~ i look at the two paths before me
~ and know that in the end there is only one choice.
~ both can give me happiness only at the expense of
~ someone else's feelings.
two paths,
~ one leads to excitement and thrills and a future
~ the other to comfort and security and a future
~ two paths,
~ one leads to the lion's den
~ the other leads to the center of the volcano
~ both offer a doom
~ i pick and fate will pluck a piece of my heart and
keep it from me forever.
the third option walkaway
walk away from what i know and what i'm offered.
never look back.
let both paths dissipate behind me as i walk down
~
~ the third path.
let someone else pick up the crumbled pieces and
put them back together
i am a coward, walking away from my future
i yearn for something better, something easier,
something new.
my tangled skin withers away
while i make my choice •
~ soon both paths will disappear, never forgotten,
and ill be trapped again in the eye of the storm,
unable to get out.

2

◊

◊
◊

◊

•o

◊

◊

o
0

$
=

~
&nn

Sally looked into
her eyes, and
shyly stammered,
"I have been
meaning to tell
you, that, well, I,

◊
◊

i'm dirty and uncomfortable
i secretly long to be clean
i need to bathe
maybe it will wash my fear away
it's all building up
the door handle is cold and the hinges
creak
i get in the shower to wash it away
i'm naked and freezing
i'm vulnerable
only guarded by thin plastic and hard
porcelain
all i have to do is turn on the Water
but it's that burst of cold i'm afraid of
i suppose it will get warm if i wait
(but i still can't believe it ever will)
i'm too afraid of the cold i shiver
and clutch my arms around my dirty
skin for warmth
when will i ever get over my fear?
i cower and put my clothes back on
i squint at the sterile bathroom lights
and shamefully escape
i run to a shadowed corner and rock myself
knees touching chin
i hope no one saw me.
i hope no one asks me.
my filth becomes my comfort
i smear my face on niy sleeve and make
up anew lie

. I
Prefer
Girls

◊

Kathy smiled,
looked down,
and replied, "I'm
glad. Me too.
Want to get some
coffee?"

~blings,

Red Nailpolish

page

$1

Fuck-me-red nailpolish on child-like fingertips

my flirtatious smile "Hi, lets go for a lap dance," I invite.

open a door into a room without time.

Its a matter of supply and demand you see,

Closing my eyes briefly, I breathe deeply,

mere economics, and yet its a smiling exchange of my soul for

calming myself before looking once again.

green pieces of paper.

I shield my gaze from the darkness of the room

These men are in control, holding the money I so desperately

and the sickness in the air.

need.

Carefully I proceed, slowly I walk in these heels that hurt me,

"I am you fantasy girl, ask no more ofme please."

six inches off the ground is not a better perspective of this

I always shake, partly due to the lack of clothing, partly due to

world.

my aching legs, and mostly because its all too much for me and

I enter the room, carefully, for these fuck-me pumps

something within struggles to convince me to run and not stop

make me as unstable as the environment.

until this is all no longer real.

I feel like running, screaming and crying,

As I shower, the water, my tears, my sanity swirl down the

yet I do none of these as I toss my hair,

drain.

hoping to hide my disgust, my calm panic.

As I lay the money on my bed I can count my dignity in $20

I pause, my open eyes now try to adjust to the darkness,

bills.

they do and yet my heart never does,

I've made more money than any other girl again tonight.

it only slowly becomes as dark as the surroundings.

As I lay in bed I am thankful I am too tired to think.

Looking around I see nothing has changed

In the morning it will all be a dream.

since the last time I was here,

You know me. I sit next to you in class, did you ever imagine?

and nothing will change by the next time I come.

Remember me? I was the happiest there, the innocent-looking

The silence is deafening, almost as loud as the music and as

beauty ready to please you.

blinding as the flashing lights.

God help us.

I check myself in the mirror to assure no matching

I pray this is not the true nature of man.

red lipstick is on my teeth.
No lipstick on my teeth,
no feeling in those eyes that peer back at me.
No time to think of that now.
I pray to a God that I do not believe in for
enough patience to make it,
enough strength for just one more night,
enough of me to survive as I slowly break apart.
Its been five seconds since red fingertips opened
that door.
I glide, smiling knowingly,
all eyes are upon me, gazing through me.
If they could only see the consuming rage behind

The resolution is not the best, but this is an early
1900s picture of a Butch-Femme Party

I

Untitled

Ramblings, page 9

by Joey

her
By BertaD

wanting her
needing her
feeling something delicious tickling inside
but thoughts whisper dark secrets
maybe something's missing
could her desire be misplaced?
she said never to someone else
but why?
maybe the puzzle's incomplete
wanting her
there's too much to think about
her past has been spoken
thoughts become clear
her love belongs to another
but still
wanting her
the mind laughs at the heart's misfortunes
hiding the wave of pain
the soul weeps
because it knows she wants not what she
has now
but what once could've been

the dim light dances complimenting the sparkle
of your eyes.
learning.
your confidence your smile comforts me.
my spirit stands silent and still
-hoping you won't notice my imagination
wandering close enough
to touch.
I wonder.
.. will you ever kiss me?
if only to justify the patience for
wanting
waiting.
delicate uncertainty moves softly across my skin.
breathing slowly so not to disturb
the subtleties of desire.
fantasy uninfluenced by realities
experience defines my youth.
I touch you with an essence at my fingertips
-too impossible to be true.
the change of the seasons will surely show
more than I want to know.
but for now - i suffer in my innocence.
my dream awaits your awakening.
RAMBLING
MEMORIES
RAMBLING
MEMORIES
RAMBLING
I remember the first time I was attracted to a butch woman. I guess
I'm making the distinction because I'd been attracted to women for a
long time before then. To further explain myself: I'll say that I had
it in my head that I could only be attracted to what you would consider, ''Lipstick Lesbians." I couldn't think of a reason why I would
possibly like a woman who was masculine, for lack of a better word.
Anyway, back to my point. I was in San Francisco at this queer
swing dance, called Swing Out. I was minding my own business
(meaning: looking at all the pretty girls) when I saw her looking at
me. It was one of those moments where I felt like looking behind me
to see if she was looking at someone else. I was real smooth and just
kind of shifted awkwardly. She had on a red bandana, covering very
short dark hair. She had intense eyes that made me feel butterflies
in my stomach. She wasn't just casually looking at me, no, she was
practically caressing me with her eyes. She winked at me, then
walked out of the building. I never saw her again, but she left quite
an impression on me.

r. >V., ty of tl ie

C~1 ,td

I

Ramblings, page IO

the sound of sultry, soft,
sexy whispers
breathy fumblings
of words said and unheard
still linger...
slapping, lapping me
softly still.
a love not meant to be, painful.
a reminder of things to yearn,
and ache, and wait for
the pitter patter
of tapping feet for,
woman.
a creature, powerfully soft
and yielding.
i sink into the memory of her,
with every sigh.

The girl i didn't want ..
and i miss you, or i miss the idea.
i needed someone, somewhere, sometime,
there had to be a first.
i didn't mean to do this,
this thing i only do to boys.
my old habits crept up.
i tried to push them back,
back into my head ...but they came up and out,
and walked all over you.
you got great as soon as i let go.
you got perfect as soon as i turned away,
or so i'm told.
now it's too late,
and too little...to get you back.
so i'm left with the memory,
of the girl i didn't want.

my fingers are fumbling
between folds of flesh
soft, warm, now moist
my body is trembling
and aching with anticipation
finally awake.
i wonder how anyone can think this is wrong
or "unnatural"
i feel like i'm home laying here,
our silky girl skin, burning where we touch.
just yesterday we were laughing about how
i was "... scared i won't know what to do"
but now, i'm home at last. it's as if i
never knew anything but this,
here, now, woman,
goddess.

I

page 11
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Ramblings,
........
•
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.
Untitled
•

•

by Vegan Girl

•
•

•

•
•
•
•

•
•
•
•
•

•

•

•

through the twisting,
turning, pulling
of hair mingling of flesh
and breath i exhale contented
lost in the woman.

•
•
•

•

•

•

•
•
•
•

•

........................
In conclusion ...

'-

~

Submit writing, poetry, art, gushing praise, to:

- creative_ramblings@hotmail.com

(email is p~e~erred if at all possibl~ so I don't have_to re'-_ type submissions, but don't stress 1fyou don't email. I'd
'rather you snail mail them than not send them at all)
~

For a year subscription, (12 issues), mail $15 check
'-_ made out to Sandy Garcia. I will mail Ramblings to
~
you in a discrete package.
'Ramblings
~

"-

Rambling's Third
Issue OUT
First Weekend
of January, 2001

P.O. Box 13016

Minneapolis, MN 66414

Weare
HERE
Weare
QUEER
Weare
CREATIVE!!
(did I mention we rule?)

Part of Ramblings : v.2(2000)