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special poetry issue
This month we are pleased to present a sampling of the poetry submitted by you, our readers. There were many more
submissions than we could fit into one newsletter. So, to
enjoy more of the writings of our poets, please visit our website at www.herlandsisters.org.
Also, join us at Herland for Poetry Night on Saturday, November 11, at 7:30 pm. All poets in our community, even
those who did not submit for this issue, are invited to come
and read their poetry to an appreciative audience. Light
snacks and beverages will be served.
There's a Hole in the Clouds
There's a hole in the clouds,
The full moon shines through.
The light makes me feel all will be well, soon.
The black clouds sweep by the light is gone.
Covered once again in blackness.
There's a hole in the clouds,
Light shines through.
Moonlight, clouds, light, dark
All through the night.
I feel life is like that, light, dark.
A person walks in darkness then,
There is a hole in the clouds
And the moonlight shows through.
Mortql Love
to Cindy Lou
Glcincing through this purple hcize
this confused mix of plecisure cind pciin
you see CJ clciss clown with mysterious eyes
CJ wcinnci be bubbci with the cutest smile
cind though your mind is not sure
cind your hecirt is CJ little insecure
you step through this crcick in recility
cind fall onto ci bed of trust
in this deception you find CJ conhdcinte
cis you ci!low me to tciste your soul
which Sqturcites me with blinded friction
cis I feel your very cold hcinds
quickly you see the not so innocence in my face
cind question my funky emotions
wishing for ci shooting stcir
to show you cill the right cinswers
becciuse I ccin 't relcite to your immortcil love
which pretty boy Aoyd h<:is corrupted
this sexuql goddess hcis sto le your devotion
cind now you ccin 't reclciim cupid's qrrow
cind I don't feel specicil cinymore
we're both feeling burned down
becciuse of some cold hcinds
becciuse we both do ccire
cibout you immortcil love turned mortcil
by me this sexucil goddess
this wcinnci be bubbci with the cutest smile
this clciss clown hiding in ci purple hcize
with mysterious eyes cind CJ not so innocent face
Tex
The Her/and Voice is a publication of Her/and Sister Resources, 23 l 2 NW 39th, Ol<C 01< 73 l l 2. Our bookstore/lend1ng library is open Saturdays
from 1-5 pm Call us at (405) 521-9696 or email us at herland@herlandsisters.org. Visit us on the web at www.herlandsisters.org.
Homeland Security Breached
Lrnle.?
Isabella's emissary rides through the waving
prairie grasses of the heartland, his blue Castilian
eyes scanning the horizon for seven golden cities.
If C!nl1f f"r A- fninute.
He rides the endless plains breathing the dust
t" fiA-ve
of buffalo, dreaming of wealth, of glory,
JC! Pe ~iet tC!~etker.
returning triumphantly to his monarch.
A- 5A-fe plA-c.e.
JC! relA-X C!n fn1J 5tC!fnA-C.fi,
He rides and rides while saddle sores
t" ~r"p ""'11 5h-C!vilt{en
pock his Spanish butt, and cruelty
fuels his aristocratic ambitions.
int" A- 5kA-re~ peA-c.e.
Wherever he goes citizen bands trail
'" reA-lize
even C!ne fnC!fnent
the conquistador column, silent as breath,
"f u nWfnfnente~
waiting and planning for the right moment,
the split second, when flint tipped shafts
PeA-ut11·
might spill Old World blood in New World dust.
But, when it comes, the "let's roll" rush fails,
the foreign intruders continue the relentless march
until every citizen is slai·n or subdued,
and all the monuments are erected
to honor the triumph of terrorists.
Dorothy Alexander
If
Evening News on PBS
If I had been raised in the
With no more introduction than "today's dead,"
Company of women
they stare at us from the Lehrer Report,
I would have had a lover by
each static face, accompanied only by name,
The age of six
rank, age, and home town: Kalamazoo,
She would probably have been ten
Eagle Pass, Tulsa ...
An older woman has such appeal
Brief notice of their passing from this world,
I would be a fine poet
their silence echoing in a landscape that history
A dancer of stunning excellence
has refined to myth, places faintly remembered
And a delicate water colorist
from old grammar school text books:
Tigris, Euphrates, Fertile Crescent, Mesopotamia,
If I had been raised in the
Company of women.
vague and coldly distant, like the "leader of the
free world" who sent them to that place of death.
Dorothy Alexander
Tay Clare
l
I
For the Land of the Free
Otison
listen children to the debate
about the way we segregate
.. .And so I ptciy ...
afraid to say we discriminate
Wonder thcit is womcin
yet rush to vote and legislate
Bless me with yout grcice
to prevent some from their wedding date
Bestow within me
because they have a same sex mate
cin imcige ... of whcit I wish to be
Deliver me of myself
Plcice me deep in youdender hecirt
plcice me cimid your soft, tempercite wonders
This country that's based on equality
is so full of hypocrisy
we claim all people here are free
but that's not the reality
pure ... so deep, so unmitigcited
it's if they look and act like me
I beg of you, Sweet Womcin
and are in the majority
bless me with your gentle touch
but lets look back in history
bestow the smile of love
Plcice your loving hcinds
upon my upturned face
some came here to escape persecution
some came here to elude execution
some came here running from
starv~tion
And in my hcinds
some came here kidnapped for exploitation
enfold with your sanctity
some came to kill the Indian nation
deliver me of cill fecir
and turn it into their own creation
I vow my love, faith, my soul
for I be but ci mere womcin
You ...
Goddess from exotic shores
but whatever their reasoning might be
all they wanted was to be free
and this was the place for everybody
we thought we could live in harmony
tcike this life, soul, hecirt, this body I give
but we came in such diversity
tcike them cill cind tenderly keep
that we couldn't all agree
This I implore, Sweet Goddess
and started building boundaries
bestow your trcinsmundcine grcice
and pushing our moralities
.. .Till there is no beginning, nor end.
so we grew up to believe
we must fight to remain free
so we can't sit here quietly
5cqrfet Night
but we can do it peacefully
so the majority can see
we're not a small minority
and whatever our own preferences be
I'll stand with the ones who say they believe
a loving marriage is legal for everybody
I'll vote to keep ALL of Americans FREE
Lemmon
Shadow
I feel like a shadow walking behind you.
Knowing all the things I love about you, yet all the indecisive things you do.
Just like myself you're my shadow, walking at such a fast pace to keep up with the
movement of both of our decisions.
Not knowing we are making the same implications. We get lost in the darkness.
Wondering what we are going to run into blindly next.
These things we call consequences of life drag us carelessly through the breaking light to
tease us with happiness knowing our relationship will never be bliss. Making us wonder
why we hold on through that brief moment of clarity that we call love.
That only cleans its hands once in a blue moon.
The glimmers of light have long passed as we decide to go in different paths of
deception, Hoping the other doesn't notice through the darkness what's really going on.
The light is gone and our paths are so dark that we can't see that the other is breaking,
from the pressure of the light that comes in awaking,
every dark secret we thought we kept.... that is now revealed.
The light shows to the other the decisions that change their lives forever as they choose
to believe the love is still there,
Clinging to that last bit of light from that last transparent moment,
When they thought they were still in love.
Ella Smyth
An Ancient Wine{
I h<1vel <1n ;mcient wind
Alone
Lifetime through lifetime.
An <1w<1kener who
Comes
And w<1tches the sunsets.
I am tired of being practical, saving socks
until they become see thru, props for the feet,
only a suggestion. Not ordering wine on a
school night. Although I'm not in school and
haven't been but you know what I mean.
Watching my weight, counting the newest
spider veins, waking up, worried. So I don't
have health insurance, where, pray tell, and I
don't pray, where will it get me besides
roaming these small cold halls and wondering
what that last dream meant.
Anet I remember.
Tired of counting pennies, brushing off the
dust, counting on my fingers. I have one of
those optimistic natures, trusting that
somehow life will even up, pay me my fair
share. So I am declaring this evening, at least,
my own and buying red shoes and going out
to dinner, ordering a small bottle of Sake, for
instance. I am calling other wimmin who
understand what I mean and take me
seriously, who pat me on the back because I
can't reach back there.
Tern' Mt!ler
Deidra
Who pe<1cefu lly
W<1lks
Among pl<1nets <1nd st<1rs.
I know forever
I <1 m <1 voy<1ger
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I------iRuaa
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Attorney at Law
405-604-5923
nla ·wokc@coxinet.uet
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